Castle of Dark Dreams 01 Color Me Wicked

by Nina Bangs

  Without speaking, Con strode from the room and unlocked his door. Mandy waited. Any second now .. .

  "What the hell is this?" His outraged shout made her wince. He answered his own question. "It's a frickin' jungle."

  Mandy joined him as he stared at the roomful of plants. "Why don't you jump into the shower, and then we can go get something to eat." She surreptitiously checked for hidden cameras.

  Without comment, he headed for the bathroom, leaving her alone with the plants. "Sorry, girls, but you're out of luck tonight." No way could she make love here with Con tonight. Just the thought of all those leaves watching them gave her goose bumps. Good grief, Sparkle was making her crazy.

  Con pulled out of Guido's parking lot onto Sea Wall Boulevard and drove toward the west end of the island. Over dinner, Mandy had tried to come up with the identity of the idiot spreading crazy rumors about their sex lives. Con pretended bafflement. Mandy wouldn't want to have the kids of a man who talked to cats.

  Kids? His spontaneous thought startled him so much he almost drove his truck off the road. Where had that come from? From the little over a week they'd been together? Or had it lain dormant all these years, waiting to pop out and surprise him? And what did it really mean? You know what it means.

  "Where're we going?" Mandy stared past him at the Gulf.

  "To the place of perfect memories." He looked over at her and grinned. "The place of blue butterflies and black roses."

  "Oh." And that's all she said until he eased the truck to the side of the road.

  "Ten years have changed a few things." He stared at the line of beach houses. Ten years ago buildings were sparse this far west on the island.

  "No kidding." He didn't miss the regret in her voice.

  "With all the new houses, this beach is off-limits for the truck now, but we could get out and walk." It was off-limits for lovemaking, too, unless they wanted to outrage all the weekend visitors.

  She shook her head, her gaze pensive. "I guess that old quote, `You can never go home again,' is right."

  "But you can make a new home." With me. Now that sounded like a man thinking about a serious commitment. It should scare him more than it did. "Guess we better get back to the castle."

  "Right." Mandy stared straight ahead at the gathering darkness for the rest of the drive.

  Con let quiet fill the cab, because he wasn't feeling too talkative either. Once inside the castle, he decided to work on his project for a while. The air around them was too emotionally charged. If he went upstairs with her, he'd want to make love to her, and that might lead to him admitting something that would make her uncomfortable.

  "I'll be working down in the dungeon if you need me." She simply nodded and headed for the elevator.

  Exhaling deeply, he strode to the steps leading down to the dungeon, flipped on the lights, and descended to the Castle of Dark Dreams' ghoulish room of horror. Mandy would hate it. Dark gray walls. Dripping blood. Chains. Diabolic instruments of pain. He loved it.

  Good thing she was still too busy with the rest of the castle to worry about this room. When she found time, she'd want him to paint the walls cream while she artistically arranged flowered rugs and potted plants to make it more homey.

  All right, so he wasn't being fair. Except for her cream walls, she'd done a great job so far.

  He'd barely started working when Deimos padded into the room. For once he was glad to see the cat. They had a major issue to deal with—whether Deimos lived or died. "Why the hell did you tell Sparkle those lies?"

  Deimos blinked up at him. "You told me to tell her anything I wanted. Hey, I did you a favor I made you sound like the hottest thing to ever hit the island. Twelve inches, man. Women'll be lined up along Sea Will Boulevard once the story spreads. So when are you guys doing it again?"

  "You're assuming you'll live to report on it?" He narrowed his gaze on Deimos, and the cat backed up.

  "You gotta tell me something." He padded over to take a closer look at Con's project. "Or not. I have a great imagination." Con took a threatening stride toward him.

  Deimos looked a little nervous. "Well, gotta go." He edged past Con to the door. "Just so you know I'm really an okay guy, I'll tell you a secret. Mandy's thinking of staying. " Then he was gone.

  She was thinking of staying.

  Mandy turned in front of her mirror to get a look at the red dress from all angles.

  She'd done a mental tally sheet. Con on one side, New York on the other.

  Hmm, the dress didn't cover very much. Good. It was all swirly and girly, and almost but not quite showed everything. A total tease.

  Back to her tally sheet. Con—made her laugh. New York—her career. Con—made her mad, but she got a rush from arguing with him. New York—her career. Con—made her heart pound and her blood run hot. New York—her career. Con—made her feel beautiful, desired, and . . . Hmm . . . she saw a pattern forming here.

  Ten years ago, she'd needed New York. She'd believed that true acceptance in the interior design field meant being successful in one of the greatest cities in the world. Did she still need New York? Did she still want New York if it meant leaving Con behind again? She'd pretty much answered that question on their drive back, but she'd needed her tally sheet to make it official.

  She slipped on the red sandals she'd bought to go with the dress. Time to take a look at the dungeon. And even as she left her room, walked down the winding steps, hurried across the great hall, and descended the final set of steps to the dungeon, she wondered if Con wanted her to stay.

  As soon as she stepped into the dungeon, she started talking. Nerves. The more she cared, the more power Con had to make her babble. "Ugh, I can't believe this room. Blood, gore, and really gruesome accessories. Can we say unoriginal? I—"

  Silence wrapped around her as she saw what Con was working on. A large painting. She moved closer. Right in the middle was . . . ohmigod! Her bare butt. She knew it was hers because it had a blue butterfly on it. Mandy had already opened her mouth to shriek when she looked at Con for the first time. She closed her mouth.

  Sure, he looked wary. How else would he look when faced with the Medusa? But there was something else in his eyes. A vulnerability she hadn't seen before. She took a second look at the mural.

  If she could get past her butt, she'd admit he had talent. The scene showed a sunny day, and in the background was a hill with a castle that looked a lot like the Castle of Dark Dreams. In the forefront was a meadow surrounded by trees and filled with bluebonnets. One huge oak dominated the scene. Two lovers lay among the flowers, half hidden behind the tree. Too bad the wrong half was showing. Her bare behind was front and center. For the first time, she took a closer look at the man. There wasn't as much of him showing, because her bottom hogged the show. But when she looked really close, she saw the black rose on his bare hip.

  "And you were inspired to create this why?" She would not shout.

  "I started this the first day you arrived. I figured it'd look great on one of the great hall's walls." A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

  Over my dry and shriveled corpse. "Uh-huh. I guess that's why you agreed to the cream walls without a fight." Maybe she was finally getting a sense of humor about her behind, because the whole thing was kind of funny.

  "Well, I figured you deserved to have three walls painted the way you wanted them, because this baby would be hanging on the fourth." He put down the brush he still held in his hand and moved toward her. "I decided to paint myself into the picture three days ago."

  "This painting yourself into the picture, does it have a symbolic meaning?" She forced herself to breathe normally.

  "Yes." He held her gaze. "I don't want you out there by yourself. I want to be with you."

  Mandy exhaled the breath she'd sworn she wouldn't hold. She glanced around the room again. "This room, as gothic as it is, does have possibilities." She twirled in front of him, and knew exactly what he could see as the skirt flared. Panties
were so nonessential in her seduction plans. "I wore my best dress, and I came to play."

  His eyes darkened. "It's the sexiest dress I've ever seen. Take it off."

  "Nope." She hoped her smile was suitably provocative. "You owe me for this painting. I've always fantasized about having a hunky man chained naked and helpless in my very own dungeon."

  "And you were naked, too?"

  He looked so hopeful. Too bad she'd have to disappoint him. "Never. In my fantasy, I keep my clothes on. It's a power thing."

  "And then what happens?" He looked disappointed but intrigued.

  "I torture you with my mouth and, umm, other body parts until you scream for mercy." Her smile widened. "And then, sometimes, if you've amused me, I free you."

  His gaze darkened. "I wouldn't count on me screaming for mercy any time soon."

  Mandy brightened. "No? Great. I hope it takes a long time." She moved up close and tugged at his T-shirt. "Take it off."

  Without comment, he pulled it over his head. The pure visual impact of his wide muscular chest always wrung a small startled gasp from her. You'd think she'd be used to it by now. Maybe some natural wonders never lose their ability to awe.

  Still silent, he discarded his sandals, and slid his jeans over his lean hips. Red briefs. Why was she not surprised? And she absolutely had not bought a red dress as a cheap ploy to turn him on. It hadn't been cheap at all, and American Express would back her up.

  He hooked his thumbs over the briefs, but before he could slide them down, she put her hands over his thumbs. "I'd like to do the honors."

  Con nodded and dropped his hands to his side. Kneeling on the concrete floor, Mandy pulled them over his powerful thighs and then let them fall to the floor where he kicked them out of the way.

  Mmm. While the thinking part of Conleth Maguire was probably still analyzing data on her fantasy's possibilities, his primitive center for sexual gratification had already decided that, hey, kinky is fun, and was rising to the challenge.

  "You know, I'm glad those rumors that you're twelve inches of long, strong man are off by a couple of inches." She stroked his erection with the tips of her fingers. So much power to please sheathed in smooth taut skin. "Because according to those same rumors, I can fit every studly inch of you in my mouth. That would officially make me the babe with the biggest mouth in Texas."

  She watched him bite back his laughter. "If you keep mentioning my studliness and your mouth in the same sentence, you might have a very short fantasy."

  "Right. All serious here." She narrowed her eyes and thinned her lips until she morphed into Super Vixen. "Up against the wall, animal." She glanced at the wall. "What're those manacles made of?"

  "Plastic. Chains are plastic, too." He backed against the wall and waited expectantly. "I won't be able to put them on myself."

  "I guess I'll have to get close to you and do it myself." She offered him an evil leer.

  Swaggering to where he stood, she pressed herself against his bare body as she reached for the manacles. "Spread your arms and legs." Standing on her toes, she clipped the plastic cuffs on his wrists. When she was finished, she rubbed her breasts against his chest, lightly pinched each of his nipples, and then bent over to shackle his ankles. She maintained her bent position long enough for Con to realize that bras didn't figure into her seduction plans either.

  Finally straightening, she brushed her lips across his. "Where to start, where to start?" Mandy smiled her most wicked smile. "You have so many things to pay for." She trailed kisses across his chest, pausing to flick each nipple with her tongue. All of this nipple action was making her feel . . . anxious. It was also setting off some minor tremors in parts of her body susceptible to major quakes.

  "Okay, had enough. Let me go." A thin sheen of sweat was forming on his body.

  She made a small moue of disappointment. "I can't let you go yet. I haven't even started to exact payment." Mandy slid her tongue down the middle of his chest and over his flat stomach. "That's for the snakes with blue butterflies on their tails." The minor tremors were escalating to anticipatory clenching, and her nipples were experiencing extraordinary sensitivity. All signs of a coming eruption. She frowned. Wait, eruption meant volcano and trembling meant earthquake. Oh, what the hell. The earth would move. That's all she needed to know.

  "Push me too far, Harcourt, and you . . . probably won't regret it." He looked desperate, but loving it.

  Dropping to her knees again, Mandy glided her fingers along his inner thighs, and then bent forward to gently kiss the flesh around his arousal. "This is for painting my bare behind in your picture. The only reason I'm showing some mercy is because you painted yourself beside me." And because her own body was making some pretty specific demands. She needed to speed things up.

  "You're killing me with your mercy, wicked woman." His breathing was taking on a raspy sound.

  "Thank you. We do what we can." She cupped his balls in her palms and circled each with the tip of her tongue.

  "And this is for making me want you again." Circling his erection with her tongue, she worked her way up to the head. Then she slid her lips over the head and swirled her tongue in ever tightening circles—teasing, tormenting."

  He groaned and then sucked in his breath. For a moment the room was completely silent. As he exhaled sharply, she slid her mouth down his length, taking him deeply. Slowly, she began the rhythmic in and out motion that would drive him beyond control.

  Talk about control . . . The male taste of him, the heated scent of him, and the sensation of her mouth sliding over his flesh, made her want to stand up, wrap her legs around his hips, and take him right there against the wall. Whoa, she was losing it.

  "Stop now, Mandy. I'm not going to last much longer." He sounded seriously upset by that fact. "Set me free."

  She leaned back on her heels and gazed up into his eyes. Heat, hunger, and an emotion she wasn't quite sure of moved in them. Well, here went all or nothing.

  "This is the last thing you have to pay for, my Druid." She laid her palm over the black rose on his hip. "Your special magic made me love you, Con." She replaced her palm with her mouth. And carefully traced the flower with her tongue.

  "Set. Me. Free. Forget it. I'll do it myself." With a growl that would've thrown fear even into the heart of Holgarth, he broke the plastic manacles.

  Uh-oh. She scrambled to her feet. "Gee, they don't make dungeon equipment like they used to."

  That's all she had time to say before he was on her. He spun her around, and before she could yelp her alarm, he'd unzipped her dress and it was floating to the floor. Since everything else was gone, she kicked off her sandals.

  "I'll never make it up those steps. So we have a choice, sweet-heat. We can make love on the concrete or do it standing up. I'm a softy at heart, so you get to choose." His breath was hot against her neck.

  The concrete biting into her behind? Not likely. "The wall sounds sensational. But do it fast before I self-destruct."

  She braced herself against the wall while he gripped her bottom and lifted her off her feet. Wrapping her legs around his hips, she put her head back and whooped her joy as he drove into her. Faster harder, faster, harder. The words ran together in her mind as the pressure built, built, and then exploded. The earth rocked and rolled, the volcano spewed fire into the sky, and she screamed her completion to the universe.

  Her legs slid to the floor, but they sort of wobbled. Con kept his arms locked around her, and she could feel the thump of his heart as an extension of her own heart.

  His breath was still coming in painful gasps. "I love you, Mandy Harcourt. Marry me, and you can paint all the walls of our house cream for the rest of our lives."

  He loved her that much? Mandy leaned away from him so she could see his eyes. She knew he'd probably see the shine of tears in hers, but it didn't matter. She was just so damn happy. "Really?"

  "Really." He scooped up their clothes scattered around the dungeon. "Let's get upstairs so
we can generate some plant growth."

  "We can hang your painting on one of the walls of our house." She raised her arms as he slid her dress over her head and zipped it up.

  "Great." He picked up each of her feet to slip on her sandals. "I'll wear a red wedding dress." That would make the sluts in her basement cheer.

  "You can wear cream if you want." He must be feeling mellow.

  "We have to invite Holgarth and Sparkle to the wedding." Mandy frowned. "I know it's unusual, but I want Sparkle to bring Deimos. I mean, he sort of helped to bring us together."

  Con mumbled something as he pulled his T-shirt over his head. She'd take it as a yes.

  "Do you think the owner would let us take Sweetie Pie and Jessica home with us?" She was feeling generous toward the world.

  "No. Absolutely not."

  Well, that was definite. "Sheesh, you didn't have to shout."

  "Look at me, Mandy." He tipped her chin up so she had to meet his gaze. "Besides loving me for the rest of your life, there's one other thing I'd like you to do."

  "Anything." Well, almost anything. She still wouldn't paint the castle walls red.

  "I want you to model for me. I want to paint pictures of you in every mood, with sun shining on your face, and shadows turning you all sensual and mysterious." He stroked the side of her face with the back of his hand.

  She widened her eyes and slid her tongue across her lower lip. "I don't care where or how you paint me, but just make sure of one thing."

  "What?"

  "Always color me wicked."