by Gem Frost
At the reassuring words, he seemed to relax a little in my arms. I looked down at him, seeing the finely etched lines of his face, the brilliant eyes, the way the light from the chandeliers gilded his hair. He looked like a Greek god, almost too beautiful to be real. I felt him grow softer, more pliant, against me, and he began to move more smoothly along with the music, letting me lead.
We were perfect together.
Tonight was perfect.
At least it was until a familiar, grating voice spoke so loudly it all but drowned out the music.
“Who is the child, Blade?”
Chapter Five
Val
I knew something was wrong. Blade’s body tensed up beneath my fingers, and his eyes went as hard as gold coins. He looked like he was bracing for a fight.
The music went on, but everyone around us stopped to stare as an older man approached us, shoving his way through the crowd and stepping on toes without apology. He had salt-and-pepper hair and lines around his eyes, but he was still a good-looking guy, if nothing compared to Blade. He was a couple inches shorter than I was, and a little… well, not fat, but blocky.
Blade let go of me—reluctantly, I thought—and turned to face the older guy. “Roger,” he said, and though his eyes were hard, his voice gave nothing away. He sounded coolly polite, almost indifferent, but I knew damn well he wasn’t.
“Blade.” The older man looked me over with insulting thoroughness, as if I was a horse he was considering buying. “I see you’ve replaced me… with an infant.”
Replaced him? I didn’t have time to figure that one out before Blade replied. His voice was a shade colder.
“You replaced me first, Roger.”
“Ah, yes, that little tryst at your birthday party. Surely you know that was simply a little peccadillo, Blade? My heart has always belonged to you… as yours has to me.”
These guys obviously had some sort of bitter personal history between them, and the gears in my confused brain began to work. Hurt began to swirl through me. So Blade hadn’t asked me out because he found me attractive after all. He’d needed a date to spite this guy—Roger.
“I don’t even remember that young man’s name,” Roger went on. “As you won’t remember this one’s name, after tomorrow. You know that as well as I do. But does he?”
The hurt inside me began to coalesce into something hot and angry. I guess it had been dumb to imagine that Blade really found me attractive, but after everything that had happened between us in the limo, I’d thought maybe—
But no. I was stupid. Young and naïve and stupid. Blade had just been using me to get back at this guy, and that was all. I was just an extra in a play starring these two men. Hell, not even an extra. I was just a prop.
Blade spoke softly, but firmly.
“I can assure you that I am never going to forget Val. Not ever.”
The words were spoken with a sincerity that cooled the heat inside me, and my brain began to work a little more logically. Of course it had been silly to imagine Blade really had a thing for me. But I remembered the way he’d held me in the limo, and I still felt pretty sure that no matter what his motives, he did feel some degree of attraction to me.
Anyway, if he’d brought me here to try to hurt Roger, I couldn’t object too much. Roger was clearly an asshole.
“Really? He’s that good in bed, is he?” Roger was not bothering to keep his voice down. It was loud enough to carry, and he quite obviously had an interested audience. I suspected he liked having an audience. “Interesting. Maybe I should give him a try, then.”
Blade’s fists clenched, and he took a step forward, but I put a hand on his arm and spoke just as loudly as Roger had.
“As if I’d be interested in someone your age,” I said, making my tone as scornful as I could manage. I had an inkling of what this guy had done to Blade now, and no matter how irritated I was at being dragged into their stupid drama, I felt like Roger deserved a public beatdown. “I don’t date old men. Come on, Blade. Let’s dance.”
Blade looked every bit as stunned Roger did, but he let me take his arm and guide him back into the midst of the dancers. We left Roger standing there red-faced, looking like he might have a stroke.
We danced, moving smoothly together, and for long moments, the crowd continued to gape at us. Apparently society people were a lot like high schoolers—they found it hard to look away from a fight, or even the aftermath of one. But gradually, the gazes drifted away, and everyone went back to dancing. Roger slunk off across the thickly crowded room and disappeared.
Blade hadn’t said a word, but at last he chuckled.
“You are really something, Val. You know that?”
“Nice of you to finally notice,” I answered, acid in my voice.
He had the grace to look chastened. “You’re pissed.”
“You promised me I’d feel like Cinderella by the end of this evening, Blade. But right now I just feel used.”
“I’m sorry. I admit it, I screwed up. I did use you to get back at my ex, and I’m sorry. It was shitty of me.”
At his meekly self-reproachful tone, some of the hot anger inside me dissipated, and I felt my mouth curve slightly. “Roger kind of deserves it, if he really did that on your birthday.”
“He really did.”
“You know…” I blew out a breath. “He’s not worth your time. He’s not even worth taking revenge on. He’s just an asshole, and you should probably count yourself lucky that the two of you aren’t dating anymore.”
“You’re right,” he said softly. “I have to admit, I’m pretty sure there are much better people I could be dating.”
He looked down at me, his eyes warm and gentle, and then he bent to kiss me, right there in front of the entire roomful of people.
And I felt like Cinderella again.
*****
“It’s midnight,” I said sleepily, looking at the heavy gold Rolex on Blade’s wrist. “Shouldn’t this car be turning back into a pumpkin any time now?”
I was slumped against his broad, solid shoulder, and he toyed with my hair absently, smiling a little.
“For you, Valentine, the coach will remain a coach forever.”
I was too tired to object to him calling me by my full name. In fact I discovered that I kind of liked the name, when it was uttered in his deep, rich voice. For the first time it sounded almost poetic to me. Kind of romantic, actually.
“So, tell me,” he said. “Would you like to return to your apartment, or go to the prince’s castle?”
I thought about that. It was a work night, so the sensible thing would be to go home, in order to be conscious and functional by seven a.m. tomorrow. But I remembered the way his touch had made my body ache, the way I’d been brought so close to the edge after just a few minutes of his long, deep, drugging kisses. I remembered the way I’d jerked off in my lonely, cold bed over the past week, and how unfulfilling it had been.
I was pretty sure only Blade could fulfill me now… and maybe forever.
“I don’t want the spell to end,” I answered, turning my face into his shirt and nuzzling against him. “I want to go back to your castle.”
He chuckled, that soft, deep sound of amusement that always seemed to make me smile.
“I hoped you’d say that,” he said.
Chapter Six
Blade
My “castle” was an old Victorian mansion built from rough-hewn granite blocks, a relic of the Gilded Age, when the rich built vast monuments to their wealth to set themselves apart from everyday men—not unlike today, really. With the various turrets and towers rising from it, it really did look a lot like a castle in the moonlight.
“Holy shit,” Val said as he got out of the limo. “I thought you were joking.”
The limo had brought us up the long, magnolia-lined drive, and he hadn’t gotten a good look at the property until now. He stared up at the house, outlined against the starry night sky, and a look almost of wonder cros
sed his face.
“A prince, a coach, and a castle,” he said in a musing tone, almost to himself. “What’s next?”
I had a very good idea what was next, and I suspected he did too, but I didn’t comment. I just took his hand in mine and led him up the flagstone path toward the front door.
The moon gilded Valentine’s hair, turning it to silvery gold. In the shadowy light his eyes looked dark and mysterious. He was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, and I had to have him. I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anyone.
I remembered Roger’s mocking voice: I don’t even remember that young man’s name. As you won’t remember this one’s name, after tomorrow.
And my own reply: I can assure you that I am never going to forget Val. Not ever.
It was more true than I wanted it to be, and a faint feeling of trepidation trickled down my spine. I tried to calm it by reminding myself that I hardly knew this young man. Yes, he was beautiful, and yes, he was funny and charming and surprisingly strong-willed—but he was just an intern, one tiny cog in the vast machine that was Blade Enterprises. There was nothing outstanding about him, nothing special.
When I was done making love to him, I would kiss him, thank him, and send him home in my limousine. Our paths would likely never cross again. And that was okay. This was a one-night stand, nothing more, and there was absolutely nothing wrong with that.
And yet, as we went up the front steps together, I looked down at our linked hands, and knew I was lying to myself. This was more than a one-night stand. A lot more.
The heavy old doors—oak, with stained-glass inserts by Tiffany depicting irises, lily pads, and dragonflies—creaked open under my hand, and we stepped into the vast entrance hall. The lights had been turned down low, but there was enough light to see the surroundings—the brass chandelier glinting far above, and the sweeping staircase that led up both sides of the foyer. Val looked around.
“No one’s here,” he commented. “I figured you’d have an army of servants, waiting on your every need.”
“I told the staff I’d be bringing you home. They’ve been given the night off.” I grinned at him. “So we can make all the noise we want.”
He instantly went as pink as the roses I’d given him earlier, and I couldn’t help chuckling. He wasn’t like anyone I’d been with before. I was accustomed to bedding men who were sophisticated, urbane, self-confident. But Val was totally different. He was so sweet, so innocent.
After tonight, I thought with a pang, he’d be a little less so.
I discovered I still hadn’t let go of his hand. For some reason, I didn’t really want to give up that small connection. I tugged on him, guiding him toward the stairs, and together we went up the curving staircase.
My bedroom was down a long hallway. I opened the door, and he gaped.
“Wow. It’s huge.”
I almost cracked that I hoped he’d say that again a little later, but I refrained. Although it was indeed quite large, my bedroom was homey, with an old stone fireplace that had been converted to gas. It was burning now, casting a golden light over the room. I drew him toward the enormous sleigh bed, and he hesitated for a moment, looking wide-eyed. I had to coax him to move.
“It’s all right,” I told him, keeping my voice soft. “We won’t do anything you don’t want to do, Val. I promise.”
He swallowed audibly, looking at the bed.
“I want to do everything with you,” he answered, just as softly. “That’s what scares me.”
I wanted to do everything with him, too. But I wasn’t sure I could hold myself back long enough. The memory of our brief but hot encounter in the limo kept ricocheting around in my brain. I remembered the taste of his mouth, the feel of his cock against mine, and all at once I was so hard I ached.
But he was a virgin, and I was going to do this right if it killed me, damn it.
I drew him down onto the emperor-sized bed. One of my staff had turned down the covers, and the sheets were red satin—not something I slept on every night, but it seemed appropriate for the occasion. He sat stiffly beside me on the edge of the bed, as rigid as if he were carved from marble.
I slipped an arm around his shoulders and brushed a kiss over his ear, trying to relax him a little. He shivered, so I did it again.
“Unnhhhh. Blade…”
I liked hearing my name uttered in that breathless tone. I traced the shell of his ear with my tongue, then trailed downward. I laved the lobe, then suckled on it, and he shivered again.
“Blade.” His voice was hoarse. “I need—I need—”
“I know what you need,” I told him. “Don’t worry, Val. I’m going to make sure you get it.”
Chapter Seven
Val
I wanted… I wanted…
Well, I wanted a lot of things. Mostly I wanted the feel of Blade’s skin against mine, his hands caressing me, his mouth kissing me. I didn’t dare imagine any further ahead than that. The thought of him touching and kissing me was plenty erotic, for now.
Blade’s mouth was busy pressing urgent, hot kisses to the side of my neck now, and it felt good. It felt so good that I wanted to be kissed more. Everywhere.
“Tuxedo,” I muttered, as articulately as I was able. “Off.”
He laughed, a low sensual sound. “Good idea.”
Getting a tux off isn’t the easiest thing in the world—why on earth do the things have cufflinks instead of normal buttons, anyway?—but we managed it. A moment later I was naked as the day I was born, and so was Blade.
And he was beautiful.
The light from the fire made his eyes look more golden than ever, almost blinding in their intensity, like staring into the sun. His black hair glittered with gold highlights, and his body—well, it was spectacular. Not that I’d had any doubts, but the perfectly tailored suits he wore were definitely not concealing any flaws. He was broad-shouldered and narrow-waisted, and his chest and back were heavy with sculpted, taut muscle. His arms bulged with muscle as well, and his thighs…
Well, let’s just say I wanted to start at his feet and kiss my way all the way up to…
I became aware of what I was staring at, and of the outright dirty thoughts swirling around in my brain, and I felt my cheeks heat. He chuckled again.
“I’ll take your expression as a compliment,” he said.
I didn’t deny it, because I definitely did like what I saw. Although it was shockingly huge. Was that really supposed to go in—?
I cut that thought off, because it was way too early to wonder if we could fit together or not. I didn’t even know if we were going there. I wasn’t sure he did, either.
“You’re beautiful too,” he said, looking down at my cock. It was hard and heavy, if not quite as enormous as his, and under the heat of his gaze it immediately twitched. I blushed hotter than before, and he laughed, drawing me to him.
His mouth was gentle, but commanding. He was clearly accustomed to being in charge, and I was more than willing to submit to him. I parted my lips, trembling, and when his tongue brushed against mine it was like falling into cool water on a hot summer day. I hadn’t realized how badly I’d wanted to feel his mouth take mine again.
He kissed me for long moments, deeply, sensuously, until I could feel my cock throbbing. I knew I was leaking pretty copiously, and I was a little afraid I might just lose it entirely before he could even touch me there. Could you come just from kissing? I wasn’t sure, but it sure felt like I could.
Eventually I felt myself being pressed back against the cool, smooth satin of the sheets, and his mouth left mine. I whimpered in protest, but he settled between my thighs and began trailing his lips down my throat and over my chest, and I instantly forgot all my objections. This was what I wanted. I buried my hands in the thick depths of his hair, and let him kiss me all over.
His mouth explored my chest thoroughly, and then slipped down further, exploring the sensitive terrain of my stomach, kissing me so tenderly it almo
st tickled. I gasped and squirmed as he moved closer and closer to my cock. It was dripping precome now, twitching nonstop, and I felt self-conscious because he was mere inches away. If I lost control now, I’d come all over him—spurting all over his face, and in his hair.
For some reason, the thought made my balls tighten.
I waited breathlessly for him to take me into his mouth, but he didn’t. He just trailed kisses all around my cock, while I moaned and sighed and made noises that had never before come out of my mouth. My cock jerked spasmodically with every kiss, and the thought of coming all over him made it worse.
At last, at long last, he licked my cock, stroking his hot, wet tongue all the way from the base to the head. I sobbed, breathless, frantic, needing the release of orgasm more desperately than I’d ever needed it in my life. He did it again, finishing with a little twirl of his tongue over the head, and I sobbed with frustration, because I was close… so close…
“Not yet,” he whispered, and I heard myself whimper.
Now, now, now, I thought, but I couldn’t say that. He was in charge, and I’d wanted it that way. I still did.
But I wasn’t sure how much longer I could bear this teasing.
He reached over, found something in the nightstand, and did something with his hand I couldn’t see. Then, slowly, he bent down and began licking the aching head of my cock, licking away the precome. I gasped, my hips rising off the bed.
His hand slipped down, grazing the delicate skin beneath my balls, and I instantly freaked, stiffening beneath him.
“It’s all right.” His voice was very gentle, and his hand stilled. “I won’t touch you there if you don’t want me to, Valentine. But I can assure you that you’ll like it.”
I lay there for a moment in agonized indecision. I wanted him. I wanted all of him. But this was all very new, and a little scary. To open myself to someone that way, someone I hardly knew…
Well, it felt a little like stepping off a cliff into nothingness, and hoping someone would catch me.
