He took his time, displaying his dominance with incongruously gentle licks and touches. Amelia became dizzy, her sex squeezing emptiness while he palmed her hips coaxing her to ride him in a rhythm that felt so familiar and she understood. This wasn’t going to be mutual participation; he didn’t want her to give. He wanted her to take. To accept him and what he was giving her without wanting anything in return.
“This isn’t a good idea,” she said between nibbling kisses. She could feel him already hard beneath her and her sex grew wet for him. How easily, how masterfully he’d trained her body to respond to him. With only his hands on her lower back now, urging her closer, and his erection against her core, she ached for him. Her legs trembled with the need to squeeze him between them. Her arms were sore from the effort to hold still.
Gabriel’s eyes lightened again and grew heavy lidded as he inhaled deeply. “I happen to think this is the best idea I’ve had all day.”
Amelia couldn’t stand it anymore, she slid her hands down over his chest, needing to bring herself closer, to press her breasts against him. He caught her exploring hands instantly and pulled them to the small of her back. Imprisoned that way, she ended up hugged to his hard chest. She moaned, frustrated that she might have gotten what she’d wanted, but now she couldn’t move at all. Gabriel’s mouth settled on her shoulder, brushing back and forth while his free hand smoothed down over the center of her spine, slipping between the globes of her bottom. She reacted on reflex, grinding down on him and he groaned.
“Gabriel, please,” she gasped out, already on the verge of coming. “I need you.”
His hips curled up into her in a sharp thrust right against her clit and she cried out. So close! “Do that again!” He stilled beneath her, harsh breaths rumbling in and out of his chest. She couldn’t begin to fathom why he’d stopped.
“Do you trust me?” he growled against her neck.
“Yes,” she said without hesitation.
“Lean back.”
“What?” There was nothing back except the ground.
“Do it,” he said, licking the column of her neck from shoulder to just under her ear.
Her tongue darted past her lips, hungry for another taste of him. Trust him. With only his arm at her back for support, she did as he asked and leaned away from him. Her back arched, her sex ground more fully against him, and the fabric of the dress pulled taut over her clit, making her core spasm. Still not enough to bring her off! She was tense, helpless without the use of her hands to stop herself if his arm gave out and she toppled back.
Gabriel groaned, his eyes glowing. With his free hand he ripped the shoulder seams of her dress. The front pooled in her lap and he bent over her to capture her breast. At this strange angle, Amelia dangled from his arm, her knees braced on the couch no longer enough leverage for anything. When his mouth latched onto her nipple and sucked, Amelia’s eyes nearly rolled back in her head. She went limp, trusting him fully and he growled his approval, moving her against him to keep up the rhythm he’d instigated.
And all she could do was take it; accept what he gave her. When his teeth rasped over her nipple, her belly tightened and a perfectly timed thrust shattered her. She cried his name as she came, arching more to press her breast deeper into his hungry mouth. He pulled her back up and held her tight against his chest, thrusting his hips steadily against her to keep the pleasure coming wave after delicious wave.
“I thought I’d never get to do that again,” he rasped.
When he finally released her hands, she grasped his hair and kissed him. She was out of breath, still rocking from her orgasm, but her hunger for him hadn’t abated at all. She channeled it all into the kiss, holding on to him so he couldn’t pull away.
He didn’t. With a savage snarl, he met her in kind and within moments he was overpowering her again, his control shattering. His kisses became wild and hot, the way she loved them. He devoured her, hardly ever coming up for air, as if he couldn’t stand for their lips to part even for that short tick of time. He pulled his kilt aside and snatched the remains of her dress from under her, the fabric sliding over her sex and making her shiver against him.
*
At first contact of his cock with her wet heat, Gabriel nearly lost it. His balls pulled up tight and he grew harder. Amelia settled her slight weight over him, rubbing herself up and down his length, drenching him with her juices. His mouth watered to taste them but he wouldn’t last long enough to try. The scent of her orgasm was making him light headed, bringing the panther to the fore. His teeth ached to sink into her shoulder and hold her still while he pumped into her.
“Do it,” she whispered, inflaming him even more. “Make love to me. I’m ready.”
Gabriel’s chest ached with the harsh thud of his heart. His arms twitched, muscles roiling; he had no control over them. His hips thrust up against her, but it wasn’t enough. With an animal growl, unrecognizable from his own voice, he snatched her down to the couch and rose over her. She was breathing hard, just like him, eyes unfocused, hands roaming over him. When she skimmed them over his abdomen, his muscles tightened in reaction, bugling and then receding. No, changing. Into something else.
He could feel fangs sharpening in his mouth. When she locked her legs around him, pulling him down, the head of his shaft lined up perfectly with her entrance, something inside him snapped. Gabriel pushed her legs away from him, flipped her so fast she gasped. His clawed hands grasped her hips, pulling her ass up in the air, arching her back so temptingly he wanted to rub his face over the hollow of her spine. He spread her and impaled himself in her heat to the hilt with one strong thrust.
Amelia cried out but it wasn’t a sound of pain. It egged him on and he lowered his face to her neck, nipping lightly as he pulled out almost all the way and slammed back in, going as deep as he could. The slap of flesh against flesh was so loud in the silent cave. He did it again and again, trailing his fangs over her perfect skin. Her hands curled in the edge of the couch, digging in and holding tight. “More,” she said.
It snapped the last of his control as if it had never existed. Gabriel caught her shoulder between his fangs, holding her still with his bite as he rutted over her like a frenzied beast. He felt her sex squeezing him, demanding more. And he gave her more, pounding into her as her moans became louder, faster. She screamed when she came, milking him like a fist. He shuddered at the feel, the scent and taste of her.
It wasn’t enough.
He released his bite and flipped her again, without relinquishing her orgasm for an instant. Face to face now, he snaked an arm underneath her hips and pulled them up into his thrusts. She was too far gone now to lock him in, too boneless to do anything but accept him, wild as he was. With a gasp and an arch of her back, she came again, harder this time, her fingers digging into his hips. Gabriel never let up, guiding her into another orgasm before the last one had had a chance to ebb.
He fell over her, pulling her tight against him as he moved inside her like a piston, letting the clench of her body wrench the pleasure out of him as well. The roar that tore out of his chest shook the world around him and he heard nothing, saw nothing; felt nothing but Amelia coming apart in his arms.
It could have taken minutes or hours for his breathing to level out. And even then the satisfied purrs rumbled in his chest. He couldn’t stop that if he wanted to. Gabriel could feel Amelia’s heartbeat against him, felt her soft breath on his skin. Her arms were around his neck, one of her hands tangled in his hair and he’d never felt so calm and content in all his life. A curious sort of peace settled over him, as if everything was right with the world.
Not ready to relinquish the feeling, he maneuvered so they lay on their sides, facing each other, still joined in the most intimate of ways. Amelia smiled the sort of sleepy, sated smile that made him feel like a god among men. She yawned delicately and cuddled closer to him, settling trustingly in his arms to sleep.
Gabriel buried his nose in her hair and closed
his eyes, breathing a sigh of relief. Everything would work out. With Amelia by his side, there was no way it could not.
* * * *
Rain pelted down on him in heavy sheets, stinging his eyes like acid. The sand beneath his feet was mud, puddles of water mixing with the blood of his opponents. It was all over him. As the rain washed the blood away, so the pooling water at his feet stained him with it once again. There was no getting rid of it.
He raised his twin swords high and roared his courage to the heavens, his voice bouncing off the arena walls. The crowds leapt to their feet, cheering madly, thousands of people screaming and waving, gesturing for whatever outcome they wanted to see most.
This time, they were all for one.
Gabriel lowered his swords to the neck of his defeated foe. The gladiator knelt before him, head bowed in submission, neck exposed for the killing blow. The blade of one sword kissed his nape but Gabriel didn’t move more. He raised his gaze to the faraway balcony where Caesar sat underneath a makeshift umbrella. She would give the final order.
He focused on her impassive face, her cold eyes, and not the bodies littering the arena. The fallen dead were everywhere, their faces frozen death masks.
Faces he knew.
Gabriel held steady, refusing to look at them and remember. Names swirled in his mind, demanding to be acknowledged. Male and female, so many he could hardly keep track of them. Amaya, Malcom, Ruby, Seth—his training mates. Desiree, Juliana, Roland, Braiden, Thom—servants and slaves hired to see to his needs. And the ones that hurt the most: Alex, Jack, and Paige. He’d plowed through them without mercy.
And it had felt righteous. His chest puffed up with primal aplomb. He stood unmatched another day. None would dare challenge him on his turf again. He was master of his demesne.
Caesar rose from her seat, graceful as a swan, draped in nearly transparent white silk, her hair glittering gold—a wig. She was magnificent. Hatred oozed through his veins like thick sludge. It choked him; infuriated him. He’d bested his enemies. He had. All on his own. He’d proven himself champion among them all, yet his hand was still stayed, waiting for her decision. Her command. He might have won the battle but she chose whether or not he could end it.
Fury uncoiled in his gut and he ground his fangs together, clawed hands gripping his swords until they shook. The prey was his to end, not hers! Still, he could not move. She held him prisoner with her gaze, the powerful magic of her glacial eyes searing the tattered remnants of his soul to ash. He had no more will than she chose to grant him. She chose not to. And so he could not move.
One delicate arm rose, fingers curled, thumb held out sideways. Gabriel held his breath, waiting for her to choose. Despising every second that ticked by while she stalled.
My prey! Mine!
At last, that pale thumb turned up.
The crowd screamed approval, their voices rising to a fever pitch as Gabriel raised his sword. Without looking, he brought it down, smoothly severing his opponent’s head. Only then did he deign to look upon the challenger’s now useless body.
Breath left him.
At his feet, a female form lay still in death, her blue dress now black, soaked with rain and blood. She lay in a pool of it, fingers still twitching with the last of death spasms. She looked so small, so delicate, the silver bulla at her bleeding throat glinting at him, blinding him. He knew the symbol etched on it: Asclepius, the healer god.
A wretched wail tore from his throat. He fell to his knees, battle hazed mind refusing to comprehend what he was seeing. A shaking clawed hand reached for the body lying so still, but recoiled. She was dead, her head severed from her body. It was far too late to fear hurting her. But he did.
Gabriel tossed his head back and let loose another wail that almost punched a hole through his chest. He clutched it, feeling his own heart still as he rocked back and forth. Hot tears mingled with the icy rain running down his face.
My angel…
Mine…
No longer.
A peal of laughter echoed in the suddenly empty arena. Soul numbing wrath made his heart beat fast and strong again. He zeroed in on the Caesar, rising to his feet taller than before. His fangs shot longer as he stared at her, his claws sharper. The woman paid him no heed, lost in her amusement.
Muscles tightened, a growl rose from deep within, clawing its way up his throat until it bled. He tasted his own blood, the blood of his mate. The absence of her breath in him made his insides twist and wrench. He doubled over and fell to his hands and knees.
But the pain made him stronger, even as his back bowed from it near the breaking point.
He raised his gaze once more to his prey. A snarl split his upper lip and made his claws dig into the mud. With a powerful launch, he shot after her, leaving his human self behind to bleed and die with his mate…
The agonizing spasm twisted his insides until he was certain he would cast them out. Gabriel levered himself up on a shaky arm, mind still hazy with dreams, and looked down at the still body nestled against him. Shock propelled him away from her, off the couch onto the hard rock floor. He scrambled away as fast as his trembling limbs would allow, claws scraping rock like nails on a chalkboard.
His heart hammered against his ribs, too large, too strong to contain. It bruised him from the inside. Another spasm laid him flat, and the next arched him off the floor. He felt muscles twisting and tearing, bones grinding as they changed. His throat locked up, allowing neither breath nor scream to escape him.
When he toppled to his side, his back bowed the other way, stretching and distending while his limbs contracted toward his body into a fetal position.
“Gabriel?”
His head raised, gaze locking on the pale, golden haired female draped in white rousing on the couch. Caesar!
Gabriel snarled at her, showing off his huge fangs as his spine stretched and grew into a long tail. The wrenching agony made him howl.
The female gasped. “Oh, God!” He could hear her heart thundering; could scent the disgusting tang of her fear. It would taint her blood and stink up this whole place when he tore into her. He couldn’t wait.
But her voice was different. “Gabriel!” she cried, and instead of running, came off the couch toward him.
He shook his head, at the last second recognizing Amelia’s face. Claws dug into the rock as his limbs broke and snapped into a different shape. The panther was frenzied, its bloodlust spreading across his mind, blurring everything but the need to hunt. And to kill. On a rising growl, he managed to grate, “Run.”
And then the panther took over.
Chapter 23
Amelia snatched the blanket tight around her and sprang to her feet, running out into the tunnel. She didn’t stop to think; didn’t even slow to grab her glasses. Squinting at the blurry world in front of her, she ran for her life. Part of her knew the worst possible thing she could do was run from a predator but she was in no way prepared to face it head on. Heart in her throat, she hurried through the passages, praying she wouldn’t trip one of the booby traps and get herself killed.
The panther’s roar echoed through the cave system. She ran faster, a shot of adrenalin propelling her whichever way she could go. He was closing in on her. She could hear him making his way toward her, stalking her. He wasn’t running, as if he knew there was no way she could escape him. Amelia rounded a corner and nearly fell into a deep pool of water. The underground stream emptied here, into what looked like a thousand foot deep pit. The light shone down as far as it could go and then the water was … black. Not gray rock, but black abyss. There had to be an outlet down there somewhere, another crevice in the rock where the water disappeared, otherwise it would have flooded the tunnels by now.
Dead end. Amelia spun on the balls of her feet, cutting one on the sharp rock, and ran back, taking another way. The panther at her heels was growling now, a purring rumble that bounced off the walls, as if he enjoyed this cat and mouse game.
She turned anothe
r corner, trying a different branch of the tunnel. This place was a labyrinth and she’d already gotten so turned around she had no idea which way she’d come from. I’m going to die here, she realized. If not in these tunnels tonight, then somewhere out in Rome tomorrow. Or the day after. It was only a matter of time.
The premonition sapped the strength out of her and she stumbled, the cut in her foot stinging. She was leaving a trail of blood in her wake the panther could easily follow right to her. Amelia couldn’t have made it any easier on him if she’d tried.
A crossroad. Left or right? Both tunnels were pitch black and deathly silent. She’d be completely blind in there and ridiculously easy prey for a creature with his exceptional night vision. Amelia tossed a frantic glance behind her. Left or right? Left or right!
She dashed right, feeling her way along the wall. Without the benefit of her sight, she was reduced to a snail’s pace, carefully sliding one foot in front of the other. The pain in her foot barely registered, nothing more than a dull ache at the moment, but when she calmed down—if she lived long enough to do that—she knew she’d be in agony.
A pebble skipped down the rock wall behind her. She stilled, turning around blindly while keeping hold of the wall. If she let go, she’d be completely lost. No sense of direction at all. She could feel her pulse hammering in her neck. Her eyes darted left and right and she struggled to keep her breathing as quiet as possible so she could hear. It was making her dizzy with lack of oxygen.
Another pebble skittered across the floor. It thumped off her big toe and she gasped. “Gabriel?”
Silence answered her.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She could feel eyes watching her and shivered with dread and cold. The blanket wasn’t nearly enough to stave off the chill of this cave. Her hands were starting to feel numb and the ache in her foot intensified. Her teeth chattered as she spoke. “Gabriel, listen to me. You have to control this. It’s your mind, your body. Don’t let the panther rule you. You’re stronger than that.” She eased her foot back a little, skimming her hand on the wall.
Blood Debts (The Blood Book 3) Page 21
