Sid’s mother was a weaver. Her pieces were much smaller than this, but they hung in small galleries and wealthy homes all across the Northeast. As her only daughter, Sid had been dragged to every decorative arts collection in museums all over the world. Sid knew fabric and weaving. And this hanging was as fine as any she’d ever seen. Even better.
She stared at the magnificent piece of art, completely taken in by the decadent and bloody scene it depicted. Eastern lords—she couldn’t have said which country, only that it wasn’t the western hemisphere—rode into battle, their horses’ hooves sharp and deadly, their teeth bared and eyes sharp, their swords dripping blood. And at the other end of the hanging, an elegant palace where ladies in dresses of striking color reclined in indulgent splendor while servants bowed and scraped.
Feeling grubby after her recent crawl through the dirt and bushes, Sid shoved her hands into the pockets of her hoodie to resist touching the tapestry and wished she could turn up the light just a little to see it better.
She was so engrossed that she didn’t realize someone else was in the room until a deep, smooth voice drawled, “Sidonie.”
She spun around, chagrined at her own rudeness, irritated that he’d managed to startle her. She glared at him as if it was all his fault.
Aden sat in a deep, upholstered chair on the other side of the room. The chair was covered in short-napped velvet, its burgundy color rich with gold deep in its threads. A standing lamp was just over his left shoulder, casting a circle of warm light over him, sparking red highlights in his black hair and blazing off his olive gold skin, while leaving his eyes dark and gleaming.
Just sitting there, he took her breath away. She tried to focus on something else, anything but the way her foolish body was reacting to the mere sight of him, and her gaze fixed on what he was holding. A pile of paperwork sat on the table to his right, and he was holding a multiple-page document, the top pages flipped over as if she’d caught him in the middle of reading it.
Aden made a noise like an abbreviated chuckle, and Sid’s eyes flashed up to meet his lazy stare. He did a quick head to toe scan before meeting her glare with a small smile of amusement. He gestured with one hand at the matching loveseat opposite his chair, and his smile only grew broader when she stubbornly remained standing.
“Sidonie,” he repeated, his voice flowing over her skin like the finest silk. “I wouldn’t have thought criminal activity was your thing.”
“Very funny,” she said, feeling the blush to the roots of her messy hair. “But as long as we’re talking criminals, I wouldn’t have thought slavery was your thing.”
Something changed behind his eyes. Every shred of humor was gone in an instant, replaced by something much colder and angrier. He dropped the papers to the table and stood, towering over her just as she’d known he would despite the fact his feet, too, were bare.
He reached out and twisted a lock of her hair around one long finger, then leaned in close, as if to share a secret.
“You don’t know me, Sidonie Reid,” he purred. “So I will forgive you this once. But never again accuse me of tolerating slavery. I won’t forgive it a second time.” He tugged her hair until the curl slipped away from his fingers, and started to turn away. But then he stopped. As if it was an afterthought—although she doubted Aden did anything without thinking about it first—he said, “And for the record, I don’t need you or anyone else to tell me what’s going on in my city.”
“Your city?” she managed to say.
Aden’s lip curled into a crooked smile. “My city. My territory. It’s only a matter of time. And not much more of that.”
Sid thought privately that his arrogance knew no bounds, but she kept that to herself, saying instead, “So, that vampire Elias, the one who brought me here, he’s one of yours?”
Aden regarded her skeptically, clearly deciding whether to answer her question or not. “Elias belonged to Klemens,” he said, still studying her as if trying to figure out what angle she was working. “Klemens’s people now belong to no one, other than Lucas who holds their lives until a new lord claims the territory. Elias knows who’s going to win this battle and is being useful in hopes of gaining favor. Eventually, he will be mine.”
“You already knew about the slaves when I talked to you the other night, didn’t you?”
“I suspected, which is why Elias was there tonight. Fortunately for you.”
“Why didn’t you saying something? You know how important this is to me.”
“Do I?” he asked archly.
She felt suddenly foolish in having assumed he would have found out about Janey, and that he’d know what she’d been doing since her friend’s death and why. “I’ve spent the last several months trying to—”
“I know what you’ve been doing.”
She glared at him angrily. Why couldn’t he ever be up front with her? Why was he always with the games? “You’re an asshole, you know that?”
Aden gave her a devastating smile. “That may be,” he said, closing the fingers of one hand over her hip and drawing her closer. “But you want me.” He glanced over her head, and she started to turn, thinking someone was there, but then she heard the door close and lock with a quiet snick of sound. She looked up and met his eyes in surprise.
“Magic,” he whispered against her ear, his breath a fan of warm air against her skin.
“I don’t want you,” she insisted. “I only—”
“Do you know,” he began, depositing a row of butterfly soft kisses along her brow and down to her cheek, “that when you lie, your heart beats faster?”
Sid’s heart was pounding against her ribs.
“Your pulse speeds up.”
Her pulse was throbbing like a tiny creature trapped inside her artery.
“Your breathing grows shallow.”
She was going to faint if she didn’t manage to draw more oxygen soon.
“And you sweat.” Sid’s gaze flashed up to meet his. “Just a tiny bit,” he amended, and his tongue darted out to taste her skin.
“Altogether—” He kissed each corner of her mouth, then touched his lips to hers. “It tells me you just lied when you said you don’t want me.”
Sid swallowed hard. “Okay,” she said, still fighting for breath, “you’re attractive, maybe unusually so, but I don’t want to want you, and that means—”
His arm slipped around her waist, pulling her flush against his hard body. And, oh God, it was so very hard. Everywhere. Her hands ached to touch, to stroke her fingers over the ridges of muscle she could feel pressed against her stomach, to squeeze the thick pads of his chest and shoulders that were straining the soft cotton of the long-sleeved black T-shirt he was wearing. She bit her lower lip, her eyes closing of their own volition as she imagined slipping her hand beneath the zipper of his low-slung jeans, her fingers wrapping around the solid length of him, imagined the velvet glide of his skin as she pumped—
“Some women,” he murmured, his dark voice a burr of sound that rubbed along her every nerve, “want what’s not good for them.”
“I don’t—”
“Sidonie,” he growled in warning.
She looked up at him and found his nearly-black eyes limned in deep blue, the color more of a light than a tint. They were so beautiful, and his face was so very handsome, that she reached up without thinking and touched his cheek. It was softer than she’d expected. Rough where his beard was already stubbled, but silky smooth above that. He blinked slowly, long, black lashes coming down to shadow his eyes.
“Why me?” she whispered. “You could have any woman in the city. Why me?”
His eyes filled with heat and something else . . . victory. “I like redheads.”
Sidonie started to pull away, pissed that her only attraction to him was something so shallow. He laughed at her efforts, holding her fast and not letting go.
“You don’t like that?” he asked. “Then answer the same question. Why me?”
Sid
looked up at him in surprise. This arrogant, confident, powerful creature . . . and he needed to ask her that? She stared at his perfect face with its sensuous mouth and chiseled cheekbones. His extraordinary eyes.
“You’re beautiful,” she said honestly.
“And so are you,” he crooned, and then he was kissing her. There were no more teasing brushes of his lips. His mouth came down hard, crushing her lips against his. It was passionate and sensuous, a demand and a claiming all at once. Sid lost herself for a moment in the force of that kiss. She clung to him, her fingers clenched in the fabric of his T-shirt, and she felt . . . things. Emotions and desires she’d never experienced with any other man. Things she’d read about, but never thought to feel for herself.
His hand slipped from her waist to cup the curve of her butt, lifting her up until the thick bulge of his erection was nestled in the vee of her thighs, taunting her with its presence so close to where she wanted him, where she needed him. Sid moaned softly, rubbing the unaccustomed ache between her legs against the temptation of his cock.
As if her soft moan had been the trigger he was waiting for, Aden swung her up into his arms, and, holding her tightly, his fingers tangled in her hair and tugging her head back to make her mouth available to his kiss, he strode across the room to a closed door she hadn’t noticed before.
She felt the magic this time—maybe because he was holding her so close to his chest—but she felt the frisson of energy as he exerted his will, as the door swung open at his command. He walked through without stopping, the door slamming behind them, sealing her inside with this dangerous, sexy vampire. Sid shivered in equal parts fear and excitement, her eyes going wide when Aden looked down at her with fangs bared for the first time since she’d met him.
“Are you afraid of me, Sidonie?” he asked, though he didn’t seem bothered by the prospect.
She nodded, not admitting that what she felt was nothing as simple as fear.
“Excellent,” he growled. “Now tell me the rest.”
Sid closed her eyes, unwilling to admit she was more aroused than she’d ever been in her life. He was already too damn arrogant by half. He didn’t need any more ego stroking. But then he bent his head and kissed her once again, his tongue exploring every inch of her mouth. She couldn’t stifle the groan of desire that started somewhere in her gut and rolled out of her throat. She’d never wanted anyone as much as she wanted him.
“Tell me,” he demanded, nipping at her lower lip sharply enough that she was certain he’d drawn blood. “Or I’ll take you back out there and tell Trav to drive you home.”
Her eyes flashed open. He wouldn’t. But his expression said very clearly that he most certainly would.
Sid wrapped her fingers around the back of his neck and tugged hard on the ends of his hair, trying to gain some small measure of control. He bared his teeth at her in a snarl and started to turn back toward the door to the sitting room.
“I want you!” she said before she could stop herself and felt her entire body heat with embarrassment. At least the parts that weren’t already burning up with lust. “I want . . .” Sid didn’t know how to say what she wanted him to do to her, or couldn’t say it out loud. “I want you,” she repeated.
Aden tugged her head back, baring her neck. He lowered his head, and his lips skimmed along the curve of her jaw and lower, until she felt the kiss of his teeth on her neck, his breath warm and moist, his voice a rumble of sound when he said, “I’m going to fuck you.”
Sid felt herself falling then gasped in surprise when he dropped her onto a bed she hadn’t even noticed. She sat up, trying to take it all in, when Aden yanked off his T-shirt, and she suddenly couldn’t look at anything else. There was nothing in this room, nothing in her lifetime of experience, that was more beautiful than the magnificent male standing in front of her and stripping away his clothes.
He tossed his T-shirt to one side, and Sid could only stare at the play of smooth muscle over his chest, the power of his shoulders and arms. She saw with some surprise that he had identical tattoos on both arms, dark bands that circled the thick muscles of his biceps. He started on the buttons of his 501s, and her gaze lowered, taking in the rippled abs and flat belly, the line of silky hair arrowing down to . . . The blood left her brain when he slipped the last button and shoved his pants down past narrow hips. Her imagination hadn’t done him justice. His cock was long and thick and hard, proudly jutting upward as he stalked toward the bed, his eyes lit with that blue-moon glow again, his fangs white and gleaming.
Sid tried to scoot back, but he struck with snakelike speed, grabbing her ankle and drawing her closer before climbing onto the bed and straddling her still fully-clothed body. He didn’t bother taking off her hoodie; he simply yanked the two sides open, breaking the zipper, then gripped her heavy T-shirt in both hands and, with a powerful flex of his arms, tore it down the middle. He paused briefly then, his hot gaze taking in her blue satin bra and the curve of her breasts pushing out of the top. A strange little smile crossed his face as he slipped a finger under one of the straps and tugged it over her shoulder, then shoved the bra cup down until her nipple was exposed, flushed and hard. His eyes lifted to meet hers, his look smoldering and heavy lidded at this undeniable evidence of her arousal. Heavy lashes came down to cover his eyes as he leaned over and took the traitorous nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around in a wet caress. Sid’s moan of pleasure turned into a startled gasp when his teeth closed over the swollen bud, biting down until she could feel the sharp edge of his fangs. She looked down, scraping her nails through the back of his hair, and found him watching her over the curve of her breast, his gaze filled with something wicked, something out of control that dared her to stop him.
Sid could only moan, too overwhelmed by sensation to think rationally. She wanted to grab him by the hair and yank him away from her breasts, to pull her torn clothes together and run for her life. But even more than that, she wanted him to suckle the other breast in its lonely cocoon of blue satin, wanted to know what it would be like just once to make love to a man, a vampire, who could make her feel such intense pleasure with nothing but his mouth. Her brain couldn’t begin to conjure what the rest of him could do to her.
With a final swirl of his tongue, Aden released her breast and sat back, reaching for the zipper to her pants. Fearful that he’d destroy them the way he had her T-shirt, she grabbed for the zipper herself. But he pushed her hands away with an evil-sounding chuckle, and taking slow, exaggerated care—so slow that she began to wish he’d simply rip them off—he slid the zipper down and stripped her jeans away, exposing the blue satin thong that matched the bra.
Aden eyed the tiny blue triangle briefly before hooking his fingers into the narrow bands to either side and snapping them like thread. Sid’s entire body blushed when he fisted the now useless piece of blue satin and tossed it over his shoulder before running his big hands up the insides of her thighs and pushing her legs apart, baring her aching sex to his hot stare. She moaned, uncomfortable with such unaccustomed exposure, and tried to close her legs. Aden gave a warning growl and bent her knees toward her chest, pushing her thighs wider apart and opening her even further to his scrutiny. Fixing her with a scorching stare, he dipped one thick finger between the swollen lips of her pussy and found her slick with arousal. His sensuous lips curved with satisfaction as he slid his finger up and down, smearing her wetness over and around her clit, tormenting her with slight touches that had her thrusting against his fingers, her hands gripping his forearms as she cried for more. And then, as if to torture her, he took his hand away altogether, and while Sid was still trembling, while her clit was still begging for his touch, he brought his finger to his mouth, and, holding her captive with his hot gaze, he tasted the proof of her arousal, sucking his finger as if to get every last drop.
Sid closed her eyes against the sight, her head thrashing from side to side as she swore in frustration. He moved in close once more, and she felt the ha
rd brush of his cock over her wetness. Her eyes flashed open, her thighs closing around his hips as she reached for him, certain he’d fuck her at last. But instead, without saying a word, and without releasing her from his stare, the sadistic bastard reached down, grasped his cock, and began pumping it slowly.
Sid groaned at the sight of this beautiful male, golden skin stretched over sweeps of elegant muscle, dark hair tangled and messy, his eyes no longer the blue of moonlight, but the searing blue of lightning before it strikes. There he sat between her thighs, stroking himself, the very picture of masculine perfection.
And she wanted him like she’d never wanted anything or anyone in her life.
“What do you want, habibi?” he crooned
Sid nearly sobbed with relief at the question. “You,” she whispered.
Aden’s sexy mouth curled into a satisfied smile. “Say it.”
“I want you.”
He tilted his head curiously. “What do you want me to do?”
Sid mewed a wordless protest. He knew what she wanted, but he was still waiting, watching her with that smug look on his face, while all the while his strong fingers stroked up and down his shaft, the muscles in his arm bunching and releasing . . .
“I want you to fuck me,” she muttered, knowing that’s what he wanted her to say, that he wouldn’t settle for some pretty euphemism.
“Mmm,” Aden moaned, eyes closed, head thrown back as he pumped himself.
“Damn it. Fuck me!” she demanded loudly, worried that he was mulish enough to jerk himself off right in front of her, just to make his point. But she needn’t have worried.
He was on her before she’d finished speaking, pressing her against the bed, his hips spreading her thighs wide apart, and his cock plunging balls-deep into her slick sex. He fucked her fast and hard, giving her no time to come to grips with his size, no slow buildup to the overwhelming thrill of his thick shaft filling her beyond what she’d thought possible. He pumped in and out, forcing the quivering tissues of her inner walls to accommodate him, taking her just to the point of discomfort before pulling out and starting all over again. And all the while, his eyes were locked with hers, keeping himself propped up, his arms straight, gorgeous muscles straining as his hips pumped between her thighs.
Aden (Vampires in America) Page 10
