by Celia Aaron
Bart was still looking for what was most likely a very delicate way of explaining whatever Roth was up to or into, whatever the case might be. “Never mind about that, Bart. Would you mind if I looked around on my own for a bit?”
He practically collapsed with relief, kneeling down to retrieve the dropped cloth and continuing his war on grime. “Yes, madam. That would be fine. We have some wonderful artwork throughout both wings on each side of the home. The east wing is far more classical, while the west is somewhat modern to postmodern. The upper floor has more sculpture and artifacts.”
I rose from the couch, satisfied from Bart’s delicious meal and ready to explore. Wandering down the central hallway, I once again admired the lavish furniture and art. Every so often I had to bat away thoughts of what or who Roth was doing upstairs.
After spending more than a little time in the more modern wing, enjoying the manga covers, abstract nudes, and dot-matrix pieces that covered the walls, I ascended the stairs to the second level. When I got to the landing, a statue of Aphrodite bathing in the sea confronted me. The carefully carved face, which was as lovely as the goddess was rumored to be, seemed to lock me in a withering gaze. Sheesh.
I ambled through a corridor hung with rich tapestries and lightly glowing sconces. There were several smaller sculptures here, some of ballerinas, others of shrouded figures at prayer or mourning. It was an interesting mix—metal, marble, and plaster works. Doors punctuated the space at intervals; otherwise the entire hallway was an art gallery. At the end, double doors beckoned. I edged closer, noting that a hand-carved scene of Apollo chasing Daphne graced the sturdy wood panels. They were ajar, and I thought I heard noises within.
9
Roth
I’d raced up the stairs but not out of excitement. The pounding need inside me battered against my skin, my skull, my heart. It demanded to be sated. There was no other option. I could feel the incubus inside, now gleeful, knowing his meal would soon come. The doors to my private rooms were already open, an invitation.
I dashed inside, stripping off my shirt. Corinne and Anne lay on the bed. Corinne’s face was buried between the young nymph’s legs. I had no time to admire the scenery, though the incubus practically clicked his heels at the sight of Corinne on all fours, her ass in the air and her sex already glistening, ready for me.
Anne did not hide her enjoyment, as was common to her kind. Her moans spiraled into a breathy delight. Anne tangled one hand in Corinne’s blonde hair as the other pinched the stiff peak of her own ebony nipple. Anne’s gaze captured mine as I approached, and she licked her plum lips, anticipating what would happen next.
I dropped the last of my clothes on the floor and moved to Corinne. She stopped only to say in a throaty purr, “Missed you,” before going back to her pleasures.
How many times had I felt disgusted that I needed this? But I was resigned to this fate and knew I couldn’t stop, lest history repeat itself. But the feeling of distaste still lingered. Especially while that exquisite beauty waited on me below. I could sense her, even here, in this room. Just the thought of Lilah made me hard, gave me what I needed to keep my sanity through these necessary acts.
But as I reached out to grasp Corinne’s hips, I stopped. Lilah’s scent still lingered on my skin, her taste on my lips.
“Do it.” The incubus whipped through my consciousness, gutting my soul with its claws. My hands shook as I tried to buck its command. How long had it been since I’d resisted?
Its voice grew louder, screaming in my mind that it was hungry, starving, desperate. It was only the first, but like a toddler throwing a tantrum, it added the other two for dramatic purposes.
I gripped my cock and closed my eyes. The incubus roared with rage. “Corinne, now. Corinne!” It begged and screamed.
Tremors rocked my body, but I fought it and began to stroke myself. The incubus growled, but the tenor of its protests had changed.
Instead of the debauchery before me, I imagined Lilah moving beneath me. It was her plump, sweet sex I wanted to plunge into. Hers alone. The incubus quieted, enjoying the movie I was playing in my mind. Lilah here with me, her dark hair cascading down her alabaster back. Her eyes beckoning me to enter her and please her. Anne’s moans intruded on the show, but I let the sound play as background music as the image of Lilah’s sapphire gaze lit up my consciousness. She wanted my touch, needed the release only I could give her.
“Yes,” the incubus whispered.
I kept the show going, imagining licking the sweet spot between her thighs, then seating myself deeply inside her. My cock pulsed in my palm. I stroked hard and fast, working myself and placing my other palm on Corinne’s lower back out of necessity. The slight sizzle of electricity between us gave the incubus a thrill, my cock hardening even more as I imagined roping Lilah’s hair around my fist as I pounded into her. The edge of her pleasure was approaching fast. Rapt with the thought of Lilah’s body under my command, the incubus no longer cared if my eyes were shut. No longer cared if it was only getting the barest bones of a meal. Like me, the incubus thought of her. Wanted her.
I sped my punishing rhythm. My cock bucked as I came, imbuing me with only a faint surge of power from the contact with Corinne, yet quelling the incubus’s need for the time being. It was nothing compared to the infusion of power I would have received from the full act, but for the first time in a long time, I simply couldn’t bear it. Not with Lilah so close.
When it was over, I fell to the side and grudgingly allowed the lucid dream of Lilah to recede from my mind. Corinne and Anne lay next to me. Anne satisfied and covered with a fine sheen of perspiration, Corinne with what verged on a murderous glint in her eyes.
“What the fuck was that?” she snarled and tried to climb on top of me.
“Knock it off.” I pushed her away.
“You need this.” She tried again.
I flipped her onto her back and pinned her beneath me, but kept my hips angled away from her.
“That’s more like it.” Her voice was like a cheese grater on my brain.
“No.” I squeezed her wrists for emphasis.
“No?” The dangerous flicker returned.
“Not tonight.”
Her eyes narrowed—the precursor to an all-out war between us—as I heard footsteps in the hall.
10
Lilah
THE SOUNDS BECAME clearer the closer I got to the doors. I knew what was going on inside, knew I should slip back the way I had come. I didn’t. I wanted to see, to know. This way, I would have no illusions about Roth de Lis. He was an incubus who thrived on bedding as many women as he could. That sexual energy kept him alive, the same as blood for vampires. Instead of retreating, I pushed the doors open with tingling fingertips. Roth had a woman pinned beneath him. Naked. Everyone in the bed was stark naked.
I was too shocked to blush.
He sprang from the bed, his well-muscled body gleaming golden in the soft light. My gaze drifted down the washboard expanse of his abs to his narrow hips. The substantial length of him made me stifle a gasp. I could feel my nipples hardening despite myself.
One of the women, a blonde, gave me an acid look and reached up to stroke Roth’s perfect ass. He waved her hand away. Was that embarrassment flickering across his face? Surely not. After what he’d just done with these two women while he knew I was in his house? His embarrassment could fuck right off.
Even as I seethed, I couldn’t deny my pang of jealousy. I reminded myself that any such feelings were nothing compared to the triumphant joy I would feel upon my return to Artemis. Despite the emotions he churned up inside me in that moment, I told myself this was a strictly business relationship. And my business was gaining his trust and selling him out. Simple as that.
I backed away, intending to make my escape from the threesome before things got even more intense.
“Wait.” Roth pulled on a pair of pajama pants.
The blonde in his bed hissed as Roth covered up. She nev
er took her eyes off me.
Roth snapped his fingers. “Go,” he ordered, his tone short and full of command.
Both women rose from the bed. Neither made any effort to conceal their perfect bodies as they traipsed past me.
I couldn’t control the rising tide of anger inside me. “I think I should be going.”
“No, stay.” His words were more entreaty than order.
The door shut gently behind me. We were alone. He still stood next to the ornate four-poster bed, his bare chest revealing a trail of dark hair that disappeared into his bottoms. He watched me like a predator stalking prey, which was a turnabout for me. I was a huntress, trained by the Huntress.
But as I remembered what the rest of him looked like under the pajama bottoms, a rush of heat jolted through my body.
“See something you like?” Embers flickered in his eyes.
“Oh, please.” I shrugged, doing my best to play it cool though I couldn’t tear my gaze away from his chiseled physique. “You aren’t seriously flirting with me after I caught you with two hookers, are you?”
“Corinne and Anne aren’t hookers. They do, however, provide a valuable service.”
I didn’t want to hear any more about the perfect women’s “services.” Especially not from him. “Let’s just get down to the terms of the deal.”
“Fine.” He gestured for me to sit with him on the divan at the foot of the bed.
I raised an eyebrow at him. “Dream on.”
“Suit yourself.” He sank onto the couch, lounging there like a powerful cat.
I tried to make my tone all business despite the ache he’d set off inside me. “Look, you know what I want—the book. So, I’ll offer you a split of the profits; seventy-thirty.” Knowing he would sense the trap if I offered him favorable terms right off the bat, I began the negotiation in cutthroat territory.
He let out a low laugh. “Carissima. That can’t be your best offer. Try again.” His gaze traveled over my body, lingering at the apex of my thighs. I shifted my legs so one was in front of the other, remembering all too well I wasn’t wearing any panties.
“Fine. Sixty-forty.”
“No, no, no. That just won’t do.” I sensed he was toying with me. Good. He needed to be focused on the game between us, not the bigger angle I was working.
I recrossed my arms over my chest. “Well, since we’re horse trading, what did you have in mind? Fifty-fifty isn’t an option so don’t even go there. Besides, it looks like you aren’t hurting for cash.” I took a long look around the room. The ceiling was made of thick, curved wooden beams, and the walls were done in a gilded paper. The furnishings alone were worth more than my paltry flat in the Pigalle district.
“That’s correct. I’m not after money,” he agreed smoothly.
“Then what?”
He rubbed his hand over his mouth and watched me hungrily. His eyes flashed the color of embers before returning to dark brown. “I think you know what I want.”
“I already told you I’m not that kind of girl.” The thought of his proposition sent my mind whirring into secret places. I knew plenty of women would kill for one night with a powerful incubus like Roth. Their lovemaking skills were the stuff of legend and erotic dreams. And I was sure Roth wouldn’t disappoint. One look at his toned body and broad shoulders told me that. His eyes promised pleasure like I had never felt before. But I wasn’t here for him—not like that.
He gave me an easy smile. “I suppose it all comes down to how badly you want this.”
You have no idea. “I could live without it.” I looked away for the lie. “I’m still pretty flush from my Wife of Bath cash.” Another lie. Desmerada had approached me about the book after hearing of my writing talents through the Underworld, but the vamp didn’t take kindly to sharing the profits with what she termed “a two-bit hack ghostwriter leeching off my fame.” I had barely escaped Desmerada’s clutches with my life and hardly any of the money from the sales of my book.
I traced the edge of the plush rug with the tip of my boot, attempting to appear noncommittal. “But I do want to write your life.” Only a half lie. I was truly curious about him, but I was aiming much higher than another pop-literary tour de force. Ever so much higher—all the way to the slopes of Olympus.
“Well, then, carissima, it seems we are at an impasse.”
“There has to be something else you want.” I tried to keep the desperation from my voice. If letting him have my body for a night truly was the only way to get him to Ares, I would do it. No turning back now.
“I’m afraid not. However, I will ‘horse trade’ as you called it. You must agree to spend one night with me—”
“I told you I’m not going to—”
“You didn’t let me finish. You agree to spend one night with me at the time and place of my choosing. Sex is not required, though extremely preferable. You must grant me everything I ask within reason on that night. That’s not too much to ask, is it?” He blinked at me slowly, innocently, but the look wore thin on him. He was clever—far too clever for his own good.
I felt the trap being set around me and realized too late that Roth was a hunter in the same league as Artemis herself. I knew he would do whatever it took to seduce me, an idea that thrilled me to a disturbing degree.
“No sex. You promise?” I felt like a gullible child wheedling an adult for an oath he’d never honor.
“I always keep my promises.” His lips curved with wicked intent.
Looking at his hard body splayed out on the divan was beginning to be too much for me to handle, especially given the conversation I was having. I’d never felt desire like this before. Roth seemed to know I was having trouble keeping my composure because he began playing with the drawstring of his pajama bottoms, drawing my eye to the edge of the fabric and then even farther down.
“Done.” I cursed the breathiness in my tone. I snapped my gaze up to his mischievous eyes and turned on my heel to leave.
“One more thing, carissima.” His voice was a throaty whisper that glued me to the spot. “On our night, when you start begging for my touch, all bets are off.”
11
Lilah
Two years ago
A windswept cliff on the Mediterranean
I’d been climbing for days, desperately searching for some sign of a tributary from the crystal waters of the Cephissus. Following the river was the only way I’d ever be able to reach the well-hidden entrance to the Oracle of Delphi. After so long on the mountainside, I was beginning to lose hope of ever finding the soothsayer I’d been seeking for what had seemed like an eternity.
A blustery gust of wind blew past, sending me listing to the side, my fingers gripping the rock face as tightly as they could. They were blistered and sore from the climb. Though they healed whenever I stopped to rest, each new bout of climbing rubbed them, and my reserve, raw. The mountain taunted me—its gray crags leering at me as I scaled the unforgiving stone.
As I continued my climb in the elements, I thought I spied a small crevasse in the mountain’s otherwise unbroken surface. I laughed through cracked lips, having drunk the last of my water the day before. This wasn’t the first time during my climb that I’d seen a way through, only to find the “crevasse” was a slightly darker shade of stone or a sharp edge that resembled an opening. I looked down between my dangling feet and saw the waves crash onto the shore far, far below. Though immortal, in my weakened state, a fall like that would likely kill me.
So, I pressed on and hitched a leg up to the nearest tiny ledge, crabbing my way across the stone toward the illusion of the opening in the rock. My fingers stung, and my muscles felt like molten fire was pulsing through them. Sweat dripped into my eyes as I labored on, closer and closer to the slash in the granite. The slightest runnel of water spilled out through the vertical opening, leaving a dark indention that marked its flow. If the water could get out, I could get in. Finally. This was it, what I’d come for. It had to be.
W
ith a last heave of my body, I clambered into the narrow hole, bracing my back against one side and my feet against the other. I gulped deep breaths of air and let my arms dangle so the blood could return, despite the aching protest from the nerves in my fingers. I got a good look at the opening. It began widening from the point where I’d wedged myself until it had enough room for two people to walk abreast, but then abruptly curved to the right. The rivulet of water followed the same path deeper into the mountain. Though my body screamed at me to stop and slake my thirst, I couldn’t risk drinking tainted or bespelled water. The Oracle was well hidden for a reason. The pains it took to reach her were a defense mechanism, and I didn’t know what others might be in play.
I shimmied farther in, moving my feet and back along the wall until I could step down on solid ground. Just the feel of stone beneath my shoes instead of under my fingers had me sighing with relief.
I followed the stream along its harshly twisting and turning path. The rock above me opened as the path grew wider. Eventually, the stream led me to a larger one that created a magnificent waterfall over the side of another sheer cliff face. The water never made it to the ground, blowing away into a thousand refracted drops and forming a constant rainbow in the azure sky. It was the singularly most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
