The Invitation

by Sanderson, Scarlett

  Gabriel motioned for her to sit. “More champagne?”

  Strains of Troika tinkled in the background as she accepted a cool glass of champagne.

  Her host’s eyes burned more intensely than before. Was Gabriel jealous of Lucian?

  Absurd. Why would he be jealous? Gabriel commanded the room. Lucian was a shadow compared to him.

  “In your books you write of forbidden eroticism, of long-lost love, of vampires and things that go bump in the night. Do you believe in the impossible?”

  Shocked, Evie almost sprayed champagne on his jacket. The conversation had taken a weird turn. She’d always been fascinated by the supernatural. Ghosts and ghouls, vampires and werewolves, fairies, gods and monsters—she’d dreamed of them all as a child. Later, she’d started having more erotic dreams. Dreams of a decadent court, of a mystical king who fucked her over and over.

  Did she believe in the things she wrote? Maybe. “You’ve read my books? I guess so. In some form, in some realm, they could be real.”

  Great admission, Evie. Now he thinks you’re a wacko.

  He wet his lips. His eyes sparkled. “Do you believe in a dashing king who can sweep you off your feet and bring you to orgasm again and again?”

  Her nipples puckered. Things low in her belly tightened and her pussy creamed. As she watched the moisture glisten on his mouth, her hormones zipped into overdrive. She felt empty, needy, desperate to be filled.

  Fuck me. The sneaky voice in her head screamed the traitorous thought.

  Sexual tension thickened between them. His presence became overwhelming as he leaned forward. “Dance with me, Evelyn. Let me touch you.”

  On a normal day she would find that really creepy. Tonight, however, it sounded like heaven. He wanted to touch her. To feel her body against his.

  Though tired and sore from numerous dances with Lucian, she could not deny him. He looked at her as though she were the only woman in the room. His eyes smoldered with desire. She was compelled. Bewitched.

  She slipped her hand in his. The contact unleashed a tantalizing series of emotions. Heat. Desire. Longing. Completion. They curled her toes and sent blood racing through her system. Her clit throbbed. If she clenched her thighs together, she’d come without any stimulation.

  She blinked. She wasn’t sure if she should dance with Gabriel or run for the door. No man should affect a woman so thoroughly.

  He led her into a crowd of swaying bodies. As if on cue her favorite Christmas carol began playing. The soft strains of O Holy Night never failed to stir her emotions. Gabriel opened his arms and she stepped into them. His palm fit snugly against the small of her back. They fit together.

  His spicy scent enveloped her in a sensual cocoon. The music played on and she snuggled her face against the crook of his neck. His pulse sped up and she smiled. She wanted to lick his skin, taste salt and musk on her tongue.

  “Evie,” he murmured, his voice thick and deep.

  The rumble echoed in her clit. Her pussy bloomed, lips swollen and dripping.

  He stroked the nape of her neck. He fisted her hair and drew her head back so she looked at him. “You are beautiful.”

  Her core quivered. She didn’t care if it wasn’t real, if this was all a game. All that mattered was how she felt right now. Feminine. Desirable. Wanted.

  But questions remained. Why her? Why was she here? “Gabriel—”

  He pressed a long, graceful finger to her lips. “Please, don’t speak. There will be time for explanations later. Give yourself to me, Evie. Let go.”

  She swayed in his arms. He led her around the dance floor with elegance. She knew people stared. The plain, ordinary woman and the dashing, handsome millionaire. She didn’t care. She was with Gabriel and everything felt right.

  She could fall in love with him.

  A smile lifted the corners of her lips. She was already in love with him, had been since she was a little girl watching from a distance. Over the years no man had ever quite reached the dazzling romantic pedestal she’d placed Gabriel on. Tonight he was making everything she’d ever dreamed a reality.

  The majestic Cantique De Noël finished. She tried to step away from his embrace but he tightened his hold.

  “Stay with me.” His voice was filled with such longing it pierced her heart.

  The music changed into something more sensuous. She could manage slow dancing but she’d never been any good at grinding her booty. Her limbs tended to flail around, gawky and geeky. Definitely not sexy.

  He flashed her a predatory grin. “Turn around.”

  She shook her head.

  “Turn around.”

  Eventually she followed his command. He grasped her from behind, rested his hands on her hips and began to move them to the music.

  “Don’t think. Feel the music. Let it guide you.”

  Blood thickened in her veins. He rested his chin on her shoulder and she almost moaned with pleasure. Having Gabriel so close drove her insane with desire. Her breasts swelled, begged for him to place his palms over the sensitive flesh.

  “See, not so hard.”

  Is your cock hard? Is this affecting you as much as it’s affecting me?

  He bent her forward slightly and her ass brushed his groin. He was hard. Very hard.

  What should she do?

  Like one of her heroines, she decided to take the initiative. She pushed back and ground the cheeks of her ass against his cock.

  He hissed and she stopped, unsure if the hiss was a good or a bad thing.

  He cupped her neck and whispered, “You are tempting fate, Miss Ward. Maybe we should move to more neutral territory.”

  Gabriel led her away from the dance floor and escorted her into the library. It was unlike any library she’d ever seen. The walls were lined from floor to ceiling with dark-oak bookshelves, every shelf stocked full with expensive leather-bound books. A fire crackled in the hearth, giving off a cozy atmosphere. A homey feel. A Christmas tree decorated the corner and in front of the fireplace stood two high-backed leather chairs.

  “I have often sat in this room on Christmas Eve and thought of you, Evelyn Ward.”

  Startled, she faced him and drew her gaze from what she was sure was a first edition of A Christmas Carol.

  He thought of her? Wow. That was either incredibly sexy or incredibly creepy.

  “Thought of me? You don’t even know me. We’ve never met.” She omitted spying on him as a horny teenager. “I’m still curious why you sent the invitation. You’ve paid so much attention to me tonight—surely there has to be a catch?”

  She hoped not. Being in his presence was akin to basking in the sun—spectacular. She couldn’t go back.

  He gave her a wistful, almost pained look and moved closer to the fireplace. He appeared to be contemplating something. Fear slammed into her. What was he hiding? No matter how attracted she was to the seductive Mr. Longthorn, she didn’t understand him.

  “Would you be willing to take a leap of faith with me, Evie?” A dark, dangerous look blazed in his eyes as he turned. His hands fisted at his sides as he stalked toward her.

  She took an involuntary step back and let out a squeak even as her loins ignited. Her nerve endings tingled. His nostrils flared and she bit her lip. Surely he couldn’t smell her arousal?

  “Gabriel—”

  Before she could protest, he towered over her like a conquering hero claiming his prize. “No more waiting, Evelyn Ward. I want you.”

  Heat slammed into her. Her thighs quivered as her clit pulsed.

  Oh god.

  He was going to touch her. Now. Would his kiss be commanding? Demanding like the invitation? Or would it be gentle and coaxing?

  He kissed her. The soft lips teased as his tongue traced the seam of her mouth. He tasted of Christmas—spice and cinnamon. All the tempting things that made her want to dive in and bathe in him. Despite his hot words he didn’t deepen the kiss.

  So much control.

  But she didn’t wa
nt his control. She wanted him naked and inside her.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and parted her lips. She nibbled and coaxed, willing him to take more.

  He tensed before plundering her mouth with his tongue. She moaned. Her nipples became turgid peaks. She throbbed with need. Moisture pooled in her panties. She’d never been so damn horny.

  Their tongues dueled as the fire between them burned as bright as an evening star. His scent seeped into her, musky and masculine. His unique taste was an aphrodisiac in her mouth.

  She ached for him. It was implausible. Fantastical. But she didn’t care.

  She ran her hands through his inky-black hair and was surprised at its softness. He caressed her shoulders and feathered the pulse point beating erratically in her neck. It fired her blood to an inferno.

  She rubbed against him and let out a tiny mewling sound. “Please…Gabriel…” She didn’t recognize her voice. It was low, husky, filled with pleasure and unspent passion.

  “What, Evie? What do you need?”

  She’d never been vocal with her lovers. Too shy. But tonight she wanted to beg him to fuck her. “Touch me.”

  “Where? Describe it to me.” He cradled her head so she couldn’t look away. No hiding from him.

  Her chest heaved. She closed her eyes.

  “Don’t hide your needs from me. Open and tell me what you need.”

  She’d never been with a man so intense. It thrilled her. “I want you to stroke my breasts. Tease my nipples.”

  He cupped her left breast. “Beautiful. I bet your nipples are already hard.”

  Heat flushed her cheeks. “Yes.”

  He squeezed and she gasped as pleasure shot straight between her thighs. “What else?”

  “I want to see you naked. Feel your skin pressed against mine.”

  “And then?”

  “And then I want you to fuck me.” She never used such bold words, except in her books. She was wild. Wanton. As though she’d explode if she didn’t get Gabriel’s cock inside her.

  “No more waiting, Evie. I need you. I’m going to take you.”

  “Yes.” It was foolish to do this. He was a socialite, a rich businessman, while she was a struggling writer. It could never work.

  She was already in love with him. After tonight she’d probably be starting New Year’s with a broken heart, but she didn’t care. She wanted something for herself. She wanted Gabriel. Consequences be damned.

  She couldn’t explain it but somewhere deep inside, in some dark part of her soul, it felt right. Like it was meant to be.

  She squashed the thought. She couldn’t let her writer’s imagination take over. She needed to stay grounded in reality.

  Gabriel lifted her into his arms and strode over to the fireplace. He laid her gently on the rug before lying beside her.

  “So beautiful.” He ran his fingertips down her exposed neckline.

  Gooseflesh rose in his wake. Not from cold but from lust. Anticipation hung heavy in the air. It beat against her skin like a thousand butterflies.

  He leaned down and suckled her breast through the velvet of her gown. Her eyes fluttered shut. Pleasure burned behind her lids. The intense emotion bowed her spine and she pushed the eager, waiting nipple farther into his mouth.

  He chuckled. The reverberations of the sound hummed in her core and it answered with a gush of wetness.

  “Lie on your stomach.” His voice pierced the misty haze of sexual tension and she did as he asked.

  The rasping sound of the zipper on her gown ramped up her desire. He dragged it down and she quivered. He flipped the clasp of her bra like an expert. His fingertips traced patterns on her bare skin. He was killing her with his slow, leisurely pace. He savored her as if she were some special Christmas present to be unwrapped. Evie almost screamed in frustration but she dared not break the magic spell he weaved.

  “Beautiful. So soft, smooth, delicate. So perfect.”

  No one had ever called her beautiful. She was well and truly sunk.

  Unable to stand it any longer, she turned. As she did, her dress shook free of her shoulder and her breasts were exposed to the warm air.

  A wolfish grin appeared on Gabriel’s face. “Ah, a veritable feast.”

  Like a starving man, he took one dusky pink nipple into his mouth and then licked.

  The sensation sent an electric current through her. She gripped his hair and bit her lip to stop herself from screaming his name.

  Jesus fucking Christ.

  When his teeth grazed her sensitive flesh, she finally cried out his name. Practically sobbed it.

  She ached. Yearned. Her panties were soaked and he’d barely even started to touch her. He was devouring her. She might not survive.

  He transferred his attention to the other nipple. Evie tugged firmly on his hair, trying to anchor herself to the moment lest she be consumed.

  “Please, Gabriel. Stop torturing me. I can’t wait.”

  “Torture? If I were going to torture you, love, I’d have bound your wrists and feasted on your pussy.”

  Her bones melted.

  “But I’m impatient tonight. You shall have your wish.”

  He stripped off the rest of her clothes and kissed the curves of her body. Her navel. Her hip bones. The backs of her thighs. Her feet. He rose and she watched, fascinated, as he removed his clothing, piece by piece, in devastating slow motion.

  She wished she could strip him, remove his clothes and worship him as he had worshipped her.

  She could wait. She hoped there would be other nights for her to indulge that desire. Right now she needed to focus on the man before her.

  His body was a pure work of art, all rigid planes and muscle yet graceful and lithe. His long cock jutted from a smattering of dark curls. The bulbous purple head glistened as he spilled pre-cum.

  His arousal excited her. She needed him inside her. Filling her. Completing her. She wouldn’t survive unless he fucked her.

  As if reading her thoughts, he moved his powerful body over hers. They fit together perfectly. She cradled his hips between her thighs. His eyes smoldered. His lips were a dangerous weapon, breaching her well-erected defenses, and he used them with dazzling effect.

  She locked her thighs around his legs. Her pussy came into contact with his cock and the head brushed against her wet curls. He groaned and she smiled. A ripple of feminine pride warmed her belly. She might not be from his world but it was mind-blowing to know she turned him on.

  “Fuck me, Gabriel. Long and hard. Make me yours.” She didn’t know why she said the last part. It just felt right.

  He pushed against her. His length teased her clit, causing friction before gliding down her slick folds. Her thighs were sticky with her juices and still he continued to tease, bringing her to the edge before dragging her away from release.

  Finally, when she was sure she would burst, he pushed inside her core. Her walls stretched to accommodate him. There was no pain despite his impressive size. He filled her. She was stuffed. Stretched to capacity.

  Rapture covered his face. “We fit together.” He kissed her with hunger and thrust in and out.

  As Gabriel pulled back, Evie moved forward. They flowed together, stoking the fire inside them. His cock caressed her deep inside, stroked over her G-spot and made her gasp.

  “It’s never…been like this…before,” she managed to choke out as he nibbled her collarbone.

  “You’re mine. All mine. Only I can give you what you need.”

  He quickened his strokes. He fucked her faster and faster like a whirlwind of passion and fire, pouring all that into her and more. She dug her fingernails into his shoulders, trying to reach the pinnacle, to ease the delicious pressure burning between her thighs.

  “Come for me, Evie. Give yourself to me. Come.” He grunted the words in her ear.

  As his body became taut as a bow string, she came on a wave of pure bliss. Stars exploded behind her eyes. Her walls contracted violently around his
cock, forcing hot jets of cum to splash inside her. She screamed his name, clawed at his skin and gave herself over to the intense pulses of pleasure.

  She felt him in her mind as if they were connected. She experienced his joy, his happiness, his pain at what tonight would hold. His feelings for her shone like a beacon. It stole her breath. Then it was gone.

  She panted and wrapped herself around him, cradling him. What was that?

  As her breathing returned to normal, she stroked his back.

  “I love you, Evelyn.”

  She tightened her grip. After what she’d seen she knew his words were true. She didn’t want to examine it. For now she was content in his arms. For now, hearing it from his lips was the best Christmas gift she could have hoped for.

  Chapter Three

  She lay naked, sated and content in his arms. He stroked the nape of her neck, a tender lover’s caress. Gabriel loved her. Butterflies danced in her stomach. She wanted to believe it but could it really be true? They didn’t even know each other.

  She’d been in love with the fantasy of him for years. Tonight cemented her feelings in reality. She shouldn’t be so sure. No one could be in love after one round of sex. Mind-blowing, earth-shattering sex, but still just sex.

  It was stupid. Irrational. Yet her heart belonged to him.

  “You’ve dreamed of me for years.” A statement, not a question.

  She toyed with the damp strands of his hair. “Really? And how do you now I’ve dreamed of you?”

  “It’s the truth.”

  The aftermath of good sex made her slow to respond. Her body hummed and purred. She laughed and kissed his forehead. “How do you know that?”

  “Because I’m not human.”

  She froze. Tendrils of panic pushed at her contentment.

  Not human? Surely this was some kind of weird role-playing, like the bowing and the masquerade.

  She rolled away and stared directly at him, looking for any indication he was high. No dilated pupils. No jerky movements.

  You knew there wouldn’t be. You’ve wondered about him for years. Why he’s only seen at Christmas. Why he doesn’t age.