by Kiersten Fay
“Did you kill him?” Her tone was hollow.
He pulled back to look at her. “No,” he said, unable to tell if she was relieved or distressed by that. Her bruised cheek was starting to swell. “Come,” he commanded, pulling her into the bathroom and lifting her onto the counter.
She made no objections, but he could still sense she was frightened. She wouldn't meet his eyes. He retrieved a washcloth, dampened it with cool water, and began dabbing at the blood on her cheek.
* * *
——
* * *
Anya watched Sebastian from the corner of her eye as he went to work cleaning away the blood. He was focused and intent on his task, but couldn't seem to stop touching her in little ways. Softly brushing her hair, her shoulder, her hip. Was he checking her for further injuries? It seemed more intimate than that. It was almost as if he didn't even realize he was doing it.
His tenderness with her was astonishing. While he was focused on wiping the blood from her cut, Anya allowed herself to study him closer. He seemed calm now, though his energy was still erratic.
When he had first returned, still resembling the monster, it had terrified her. He'd still been enraged, much more so, it seemed. And not for the first time, she'd thought he might hurt her.
But when his eyes had found hers, he'd visibly relaxed, instantly morphing back into the Bastian she recognized.
With a gentleness contradictory to the man standing before her, he cleaned her wound. By his soft pats and concerned looks, she knew now that he would never hurt her. She felt silly for ever thinking otherwise. He'd shown her nothing but kindness from the beginning.
“You're not frightened of me anymore?” he asked without averting his gaze from the cut on her cheek.
He was almost completely back to normal now. His horns were returning to their original dark black, and his fangs had receded. Thinking back to his other form, she couldn't muster the terror it had inspired in the first place. “No,” she said simply.
“So easily?”
“You make it hard to fear you, Sebastian, when you treat me the way you do.”
“And how's that then?”
“Like you would never hurt me, no matter how angry you are, or how much you might want to.”
His golden eyes locked on hers with such intensity it stole her breath. “I would never want to hurt you.” Cupping her face, he rubbed his thumb along her unmarked cheek. “I could never hurt you. If anything ever happened to you, I fear I will be trapped on the Edge forever.” Leaning in, he lightly kissed her bruise. “I think of you constantly.” He kissed her forehead. “Always.” Then with the lightest touch, he kissed her lips.
With words so sweet, Anya couldn't help but lean into him. This wasn't the demanding kiss from before. This was soft, smooth, tender. This time he allowed her to explore him at her leisure. His lips were soft and warm, molded to hers, and she caressed them.
Her second real kiss ever was turning out to be the most erotic experience of her life. Sebastian was watching her with his liquid gold eyes, filled with restrained lust as he let her place soft kisses on him.
When she darted out her tongue, he dropped his hands to her hips, his body wedging between her legs. The second time she darted her tongue to lick his sweet lips, he opened, his tongue meeting hers.
From deep within him, she heard the rumblings of a satisfied groan. The mere sound stroked her own lust, and she instinctively dug her nails into his shoulders. Liquid pooled between her legs. Bastian's grip tightened in her hips.
“Let me taste you,” he grated.
She couldn't think past the kiss. “W…What?”
“I'll go mad if I don't. I can scent your desire.”
Her cheeks flared with heat. “I…”
He silenced her with a rough kiss, fueling her passion. Then he was on his knees, kissing and licking her inner thighs. She sucked in a breath. “What are you…” She trailed off when he hitched up her skirt and his hot mouth came over her. The only thing separating them was her thin underwear.
Then, as if he knew what she wanted before she did, he moved aside the fabric and licked slowly along her tender folds.
“Ah, gods!” Throwing her head back, she melted.
He licked again, up and down her sex. “You taste so good.” His voice was deep and rough. She shook with pleasure as he traced his tongue back and forth. Her heart beat faster, her breath stuck in her throat. Soon she was panting. He groaned heavily against her, the vibration reverberating through her core. Her hips began to rock into his caress. Crying out, she arched her back as pleasure raked through her.
Sebastian pulled away with a mischievous look. “Do you like this then?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want more? Until I make you come?” When she only nodded, he slowly licked, sending a thrill through her, yet stopping once again. She let out a frustrated sound, his eyes turned teasing. “Tell me you want to come.”
She did, badly, and she wanted Sebastian to be the one to give her such pleasure. “Please, Bastian! Please make me…come.” For once! Her voice was anguished with the need he'd built inside her. Her body was throbbing and her nipples had gone painfully hard.
Bastian latched onto her once again, stroking her with his masterful tongue. He pulled her to the edge of the counter, forcing her legs wider, and relentlessly swept his tongue through her tender flesh. When he found the spot that made her moan, he stayed there. Over and over he raked that spot, licking and sucking her into his mouth. Mindless to the bliss, her breath was coming in fast. She cried out as the wave of intense pleasure hit her.
“You're so beautiful,” he said, watching her writhe before him. His lids had gone heavy.
She glanced down at his heated gaze, her cheeks burning. “Please don't stop.”
With a chuckle, he returned his velvet tongue to her sex. Once again, he brought her to the edge of climax. Back arching, she screamed from the force of it. Sebastian rode her through the ecstasy, drinking her down. Wave after wave of intense pleasure assaulted her. When it was over, her body slumped, lethargic. Sebastian was still petting her, kissing her thighs.
When he stood, he said in a rough, teasing tone, “You're my new favorite flavor.”
Embarrassment struck her. She quickly straightened her clothes and hopped off the counter, not knowing what to say or do. She'd never experience that before.
As if he read her mind, he asked, “Had anyone ever done that for you?”
“No.” She darted past him into the room, not sure where she was going.
“Good.” He followed her. “I don't like the thought of any other man touching you.”
She stopped to look at him, but didn't say anything in response. Then she noticed the bulge in his pants. Nervously, she looked away.
“I did not hurt you, did I?”
“Of course not.” In fact, that was the greatest thing she'd ever experienced.
“Then what is upsetting you?”
She pointedly looked back at his crotch, and then at him.
He seemed to understand, because he said, “I will not lie to you. Right now, more than anything, I want to be inside you.”
* * *
——
* * *
“But I will not push you,” he hurriedly added when he saw her abashed expression. Gently, he pinched her chin and forced her to look at him. “I won't do anything more until you ask me.” Gods, her taste was still on his tongue, and his shaft was so hard it pained him. “And when you do, I will take my time with you. I want to taste every inch of your body, touch you everywhere. I want to hear your screams of pleasure while your legs are wrapped around me.”
Eyes wide, her jaw dropped. He drew her in for a kiss, and once again she melted for his touch. He thought she would always melt for him like this.
When he pulled away, she said, “I thought you wouldn't unless I asked?”
“Kisses don't count,” he smirked. “If I had to give up kissing
you now, I'd go mad.” A dark thought worried him. “Unless…do you not want me to kiss you?”
To his relief, she smiled. “I would have you kiss me whenever you like.”
With that, his mouth was on hers once more, in the most zealous kiss he'd ever experienced.
Against her mouth, he asked in a playful tone, “What else am I allowed without permission?” She giggled, and the sound filled him with pride. Her fear of him had dissolved, and she sweetly clung to him as if she didn't want to let him go. He didn't want her to. Then he heard the unmistakable sound of her stomach growling. “You're hungry.”
She clutched her stomach. “I guess I am.”
“I will bring you something to eat.”
“No, I want to get out of my room. I'll go myself.”
“I'll join you then, but I would like to take you to sickbay first.” At her look, he added, “Just to heal the rest of your cut. Then we'll eat.”
She gave him a sheepish look. “I know the way myself, if you're too busy…”
“I'm not busy at all.” In fact he hadn't been able to concentrate on anything but her since last night. Cale had to take command of the ship.
On the way to the sickbay, she kept looking at him as though deciphering a motive or a flaw in him. As for flaws, he would be sure not to show her any if he could. As for motives, it must be obvious. He wanted her, badly. As hard as he tried to keep her at a distance, to keep his emotions in check, he wanted her still.
Taking her with his tongue had been one of the worst decisions—and greatest, mind-altering, erotic experiences—of his life. He had a taste of her now, and he wanted more.
The doctor did a simple healing. Her cut was now only a pale scar. Soon that would be gone too. There would be no physical evidence of her attack, but Sebastian wondered how this would affect her mind. Had it even fully sunk in? Then he worried how his own action might affect her so soon after the attack. He'd been unable to restrain himself.
He stayed close. Being too far away from her made him uneasy. When she excused herself to the bathroom and closed the door, Sebastian nearly grated the walls with his claws. The doctor was not oblivious to the change in his demeanor, but said nothing.
Then, like a kick to the left temple, realization hit him. He suddenly saw himself as though looking through another pair of eyes.
In his culture, it was fabled that every male was destined for a single female. One person among thousands—millions. Many mated couples swore by it, but Sebastian had always been skeptical.
Could it be true?
For a moment, dizziness surrounded him. He'd never given it much thought before. He'd been young and carefree when Cale had found his mate—and then that tragic end. The thought of Anya betraying him in such a way made him hollow with despair. How could he let himself get close to her? How could he give himself to Anya, knowing the sharpness of Calic's pain?
Then he spotted her, walking toward him, and her mesmerizing pale-blue eyes drew him in. The subtle sway of her hips accentuated her lush curves. Long blond hair framed her gorgeous features and lazily trailed down her shoulders. All but a single thought left him.
Mine.
He felt it through his soul.
* * *
——
* * *
Together they entered the salon, and Sebastian led her to an empty table. She felt warmed by his protective gaze. Even when he wasn't looking at her, he was watchful.
Marik stalked over. “Not you too?” he moaned. At their confused looks, he continued. “With Anya working here, everyone has grown used to being served at their tables. Now when you're gone, they all expect me to come out here and take their orders.” He held up his hands when she opened her mouth to apologize. “Don't say anything. It's not your fault. I just can't wait for you to come back to work. How are you feeling?”
Nodding, she replied, “Better.”
“Well, well, well.” Calic's voice called from behind. Offering Anya a scolding glance, he said, “You missed training. An enemy won't care if you're feeling like shit."
She gave a bitter laugh. “Yes, I know.”
Cale cocked his head.
Sebastian gestured for silence. “Anya, I must tell them what happened. Do you mind?”
She studied the table a moment, then nodded her approval. They would find out eventually. Why did she feel so guilty? As if it was her fault that Xandar had attacked her. Of course she knew it wasn't her doing, but she couldn't shake the feeling.
Sebastian began speaking to Cale and Marik in another language. Anya realized it was to keep others from hearing, she was grateful for that.
As Sebastian continued, she watched their faces grow dark and they periodically cursed. In turn, they all began mumbling very fast, their tones demanding, while glancing at her as if searching for evidence of harm.
When Sebastian pushed back his shoulders and spoke in a prideful tone, Cale turned to her with a grin. “That's my girl. You beat his ass, yeah?”
Wide eyed, she recalled her escape. With all that had happened, she hadn't thought of it till now. Amazingly, she had fought Xandar off, and had been on her way to safety—to Sebastian, to be exact—when she had run straight into him.
With a dumfounded grin, she replied, “I did. I didn't even have to think about it. My body just reacted.” She recalled how great it felt to make him bleed.
Cale let out a triumphant holler. “I think everyone will agree that I deserve an award for superb training.” Marik shoved him playfully as Cale continued, “I need to go rub this in Sonya's face.”
After Cale left, Marik turned serious and asked, “What are we going to do with Xandar?”
Sebastian looked at Anya before answering. “He's locked up for now. We'll figure the rest out later.”
Marik nodded, bloodlust evident in his eyes. They all wanted him dead. Because of her, another person would die. But didn't this one deserve it? Either way, she didn't like the idea. She noticed Bastian's eyes were on her, taking in her expressions.
Marik brought them an order of something he called comfort food. It looked like a simple noodle dish, but tasted sublime.
After only a few bites into the meal, Sebastian set down his fork and intertwined his hands. “Why do you want him alive?”
She slumped. She didn't want to explain, at least not here in the busy salon. “I just don't like the idea.”
“Why? You of all people should want that more than anything.”
True enough. She supposed she had every right to demand his head. A part of her wanted to, and she knew Sebastian would not hesitate. “First tell me something. What was that thing you turned into?”
He looked at her as though he didn't want to stray from his own questioning. “It's a demon trait. We call it the Edge. It happens when we are driven to a boiling point of anger. A chemical, similar to adrenaline, but one hundred times more potent, is produced and distributed through our bodies, increasing our strength and senses. The drawback is that we tend to lose all reason, becoming more like a wild beast.”
“It happened so fast.”
“It's not always that fast working. But when one of our…” Sebastian paused. His lips quirked in a sexy grin. “When someone we care about is in danger, it can happen quicker than usual. There are a lot of factors involved. Just like when you get angry, many different things can push a demon to the Edge.”
Anya was silent for a moment. “Is that what you meant when you said you feared you would get stuck on the Edge? You’d get trapped like that?”
“Yes.”
“Can that really happen?”
“It has been known to happen when a demon’s…mate, is killed in front of him.”
She studied him for a long while. “Mate?”
“It's my turn to ask a question. I want to know why you asked me not to kill him.”
She sighed. “You already know more of my past than I would like.” When his gaze didn't waver, she conceded that he wouldn't let it
go. “In the beginning, I was not compliant. I fought, hard. When it became clear that I would not submit through way of torture, D…the person who owned me began looking elsewhere for a way to control me. It didn't take him long. He began to torture others in front of me. He told me they suffered because of me, that I was the cause of their pain. When he started the killings, I gave in. I can't bear the thought of someone dying because of me.”
Sebastian grew cold. Once again, his face was unreadable. His energy, however—
“Tell me his name.”
“No.”
“Why!” The room went quiet at his outburst.
Anya's eyes darted around the salon before she whispered. “Because I know what you would do.”
Through a clenched jaw, he replied, “You can't possibly think I would take you back there.”
“At first that is what I thought, but not now. Now I know you would seek him out to kill him.”
“And what is the problem with that?”
“Bastian, he's ruthless. He's a madman, a madman with a lot of firepower. I don't…I can't bear the thought of you getting hurt because of me, especially at his hand.”
* * *
——
* * *
Anya's lip quivered, her beautiful blue eyes glistening with unshed tears. This madman was a dead man. He had hurt her in so many ways, and Sebastian suspected he was only scratching the surface. “So this is why you pander for Xandar's life? He committed a crime against you. He is not some innocent who needs to be saved.”
“Believe me when I say I'm more than conflicted about it.”
Sebastian would accept that for now. Xandar had a stay of execution. Besides, there were other ways to punish one such as he.
Sonya rushed through the doors toward them. “Anya!” She scooped her up for a painful looking embrace. “I'm so sorry.” To Sebastian she growled. “Where is he? I'll kill him!”
