by Kresley Cole
“Go,” Jade whispered in Lilica’s ear. “Return to your body while she’s distracted.”
As if. “I don’t know how. Besides, I’m not leaving you with him.” She spoke the last with enough volume for John to hear. “I don’t know what he plans for you.”
He clenched and unclenched his fist. “I’m her shield. Nothing more, nothing less.” If his possessive tone meant anything, he wanted to be more. “And you’re preventing me from doing my job.”
“What job is that?” she demanded. “Protecting Jade or killing Trinity?”
“Just . . . leave the circle of mist.” Jade gave her a little push. “Your spirit will do the rest.”
She dug in her heels.
“Do you plan to kill me, John?” Trinity took a step closer to him. “Perhaps we can negotiate a truce instead.”
Fear radiated from Jade. Obviously she cared for John. And not just because he provided peace and quiet.
Lilica made a split-second decision. She couldn’t allow Trinity to hurt him, so she dove on her eldest sister, flinging them both outside of the mist. Before they landed, invisible chains yanked them apart. Those chains pulled Lilica on a roller-coaster ride . . . until she slammed into a brick wall. No, not a wall. Her body!
With a gasp, she jolted upright.
8
Dallas had been pacing inside his bedroom for hours. The entire time, Lilica had slept on his bed. His own personal Sleeping Beauty.
At the lab, when she’d gone limp in his arms, he’d almost passed out himself. Somehow he’d found the strength to stay awake and dress her in her bra, panties, and the shirt off his back. He’d had other options. Like her own clothing. But he’d wanted her perfect body draped in his clothing, her skin touched by his scent. A possessive instinct he hadn’t been able to override.
He’d driven her here, because he’d needed her here. He’d needed his woman surrounded by his things. As soon as he’d tucked her into bed, a sense of contentment had sprouted, and it had only grown.
What was he going to do with her?
His resistance to her—to a future with her—was crumbling fast and would soon be nothing but a pile of ruin. When she’d stripped for him, he’d basically had a near-death experience. Ecstasy overdose. Her nipples had glittered like pink diamonds, and the scrolls etched on her flesh had glowed softly, like a thousand rose-scented candles meant to set the mood.
Moth to flame? Yeah, he finally understood the phrase. He would do anything to follow those marks with his tongue, no matter the end result. Hunger clawed at him, leaving him raw and aching, nothing but exposed nerve endings and raging testosterone.
Why had he knocked her out? Why had he turned her down? How stupid could he be! She was everything he’d never known he needed.
If Lilica wanted him to attempt to save Trinity after the disease died, he would attempt to save her.
What’s wrong with me?
With a gasp, Lilica sat upright. Her wild gaze scanned her new surroundings.
Incapable of staying away, he strode to the side of the bed and eased beside her. Moth. Flame. Going to get burned. Didn’t matter. He had to touch her.
No, no. Not without permission. Only a few hours ago, he’d knocked her out to save himself from temptation. Because he’d wanted her, and she’d only wanted to control him.
His body cried: Want me the way I want you.
She would be frightened of him, or determined to hurt him back. He had to tread carefully.
“Where am I?” she demanded.
He hardened instantly. Her voice had always made him think of sex, lots and lots of dirty sex, and the forced nap had only made it worse.
“You’re in my apartment.”
He tried to look at the bedroom through her eyes. Everything screamed bachelor. The bare walls he’d never cared about decorating. The king-size bed with a light-brown comforter. The nightstand filled with condoms. The minifridge in the corner, currently stocked with beer.
Her northern lights gaze roved over him, softened . . . and then sharpened. Her leg shot out from under the covers to kick him off the mattress. “Bastard!” She stood, fury pulsing from her.
He thumped on the floor and, glaring, jumped to his feet. “I’m a bastard, yes, but you’re worse. You were using me to save your sister.”
Wait. Was he seriously complaining about her reason for seducing him?
“That’s right. I was trying to save the sister I love . . . and the woman you wish you could screw before you kill!” As she stood before him, chest heaving, dark hair tumbling to her waist, he waited for her thoughts to fill him. . . .
Silence.
Irritation darkened his mood. He needed help with the conversation—or rather, the mountain studded with land mines—but because their emotions were high, he wasn’t going to get it.
What he said next would either whisk him to the safety zone or throw him behind enemy lines.
Tread carefully.
For the case. Of course.
“You told me yesterday I couldn’t want you because I didn’t know you. I’ve never known Trinity and have no interest in learning. You, I’m learning, and I only want to know more.” The words were truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.
She’d been created in a lab, an experiment gone wrong—or incredibly right. Even now, despite everything, it gutted him to remember the loneliness she’d lived with her entire life. Her strength humbled him.
Scowling, she lifted her chin. A stubborn gesture he was coming to loathe. “The bond is speaking for you.”
“Maybe, maybe not.” Was it the bond feeding his curiosity about her? The bond causing every cell in his body to crave information as much as sex? “Before you say anything else . . . don’t. We’re not thinking clearly right now, and we won’t . . . until we come.”
Breath snagged in her throat, the pulse at the base of her neck suddenly hammering. “The bond will—”
“Solidify. I know. If we have sex. But we won’t. We can make each other come in other ways. With our hands and mouths.”
She licked her lips with slow deliberation before shaking her head. “I don’t trust you.”
“I won’t knock you out again. You have my word.”
Her eyes narrowed to tiny slits. “Perhaps I like the idea of leaving you like this. Hungry for me. Desperate.”
His erection jerked beneath his fly. “Trust me, sweet. I won’t be staying in this condition. If I must, I’ll take care of it on my own.”
Her eyes widened as he kicked off his boots and unfastened his pants, then made a big production of sliding the denim down his legs and kicking the garment a few feet away, the many weapons hidden in panels of material thumping as they crash-landed on the floor.
Trembling, she reached for him, caught herself, and let her arms fall to her sides. “The rest,” she rasped. “Remove the rest.”
“Is someone else hungry?” His erection stretched past the waist of his underwear, revealing a bead of moisture that welled at the tip. He rubbed a hand up and down. “Desperate.”
She watched his hand, and her breathing quickened.
“I’ll make you regret this,” she grated, then gripped the hem of her shirt to slowly . . . so slowly . . . work the material overhead, revealing the exquisite femininity no other woman could ever match.
Satisfaction hit him like a bolt of lightning.
On a rack—or hell, even on someone else—the bra and panties would have been nothing special. On Lilica, they were a treasure and belonged in a museum.
Her body formed the perfect hourglass, flaring at the hips. Her breasts were more than a handful, high and pert, her legs long and lean . . . providing the perfect path to dessert.
“Your panties,” he said. “Remove them.”
Dark hair danced over delicate shoulders as she shook her head in negation. “You first.”
“Mine are called underwear, sweetness, not panties.” He smiled, even though the moment of levity fail
ed to lessen the tension between them.
He hooked his fingertips in the elastic waistband and pushed.
Her gaze locked on his steel-hard length, and her hand fluttered to her throat. “You are so big . . . so beautiful.”
“So ready for you.” Cupping his sac, he repeated, “Your panties.”
Her tremors worsened as she shimmied out of the fabric.
Need clawed at him. She’s going to be the death of me.
Without being asked, she freed the front clasp of her bra. The material parted, revealing the pinkdiamond nipples that would forever haunt his dreams.
He closed the distance and twined his fingers with hers to lead her into the bathroom. He wanted to run or, barring that, to pick her up and carry her, but he forced himself to remain unhurried.
With the press of a few buttons, water sprayed from the shower spout rather than enzyme mist, as the rest of the world used. Thick steam filled the air, drawing a delighted gasp from Lilica and a smile from him.
“Water?” she squeaked. “I’ve heard about it, read about it, but never actually seen it.”
After the human-alien war, when three-fourths of the planet had lain in ruins, plant and animal life destroyed, the oceans and lakes poisoned, new methods of sustainability had had to be found. Fast. Now people lived on synthetic everything.
He stepped into the stall, drew her beside him, and closed the door. “Feel free to drink the water. I’ll be drinking you.”
Her cheeks flushed. She chose to stand directly under the waterfall, the heat of the spray deepening the pink hue of her skin, her hair curling down her back. Her eyes closed, a purr rising from her.
“This is amazing.”
“You are amazing. Beautiful beyond compare.”
Frowning, she faced him, water droplets catching in her lashes. “You truly think I’m beautiful.”
“That surprises you?”
She leaned toward him, the tip of her tongue emerging to snatch a water droplet from his chin. “Do you want me more than you’ve ever wanted anyone else?” she asked in lieu of an answer.
He scowled, his body aching.
She grinned slowly. “You do.”
“Enough talk. Come here.” He drew her closer while lowering his head. His lips pressed into hers, claiming a deep, wet kiss.
This time, she kissed him back right from the start, their tongues thrusting together. He wasn’t gentle, but then, neither was she. The need blazing between them was too great, driving them both into a madden frenzy.
He cupped and kneaded her ass, the harder pucker of her nipples abrading his chest, creating a dizzying friction.
“More . . . give more.” She bit at him, as if she wanted to devour him. Her nails dug into his shoulders to keep him in place as she grinded against him, her hips moving forward and back in a too-fast rhythm.
Attempting to sate her need?
He gripped her hips to still her and lifted his head to stare down at her. Her eyelids were hooded and heavy, her lips blood-red and already kiss-swollen. “Will this be your first orgasm?”
She fought his hold, doing her best to rub her core against his throbbing erection. “Gave myself one or two . . . I think.”
“If you think you had one, the answer is, yes, this will be your first.”
She nipped at his chin. “Then make sure I enjoy it.”
“Oh, sweetheart, I most definitely will, but you have to let me set the pace.” He brushed his thumbs over the rise of her cheeks. “I promise I’m up for the challenge.”
Another nip. “Is that a reference to your penis?”
The word penis said in that carnal rasp should be considered a weapon of manly destruction. “Just so you know, ninety percent of the things I say are a reference to my penis.”
She twirled a lock of his hair around her finger. “I’m curious about it . . . your penis.”
Well, hell. Those words were a weapon of Dallas destruction. “I think it’s time for an introduction, then.” He guided her hand to the base, hissing with sublime satisfaction as she wrapped her fingers around it.
“Just like that,” he told her as she squeezed him.
She angled his length as she arched her back, rubbing the tip between her legs. Just the way she’d wanted.
“My Lily is determined to have her orgasm. Very well. I’ll help.” He kicked her ankles apart, spreading her legs, and slid his fingers through all her succulent heat and wet to spear one deep inside her.
“Dallas!”
“Tell me when I hit the right—”
“Yes! There!”
“—spot.” He moved the finger in and out of her, her inner walls clenching on him. The feel of her . . . better than he’d imagined.
“Don’t stop.” A growled command. Her free hand landed on his shoulder, her nails not just digging but also cutting into his flesh.
In. “Dying would be preferable to stopping, sweetheart.” Out. He kissed her jawline, then her neck, and sucked her hammering pulse. Maybe it was the bond. Maybe it was her alone. But no woman had ever been so sweet, a drug he couldn’t live without.
“I don’t understand how I can want you so much . . . how you can want me . . . too soon, too intense.” She licked his neck, sucked on his pulse as he’d done to hers.
Sharp teeth grazed his flesh, and he shuddered with rapture.
“This wanting is only beginning, Lily.” He speared her with a second finger, stretching her. Preparing her for his invasion.
No, no. Hands and mouth, nothing more.
But she was so deliciously tight, as if she’d been made for him alone. A gift he would never deserve.
“Dallas . . . I need . . . give me . . .” She writhed against him, trying to force him to go deeper. She had no finesse, no rhythm, operating solely on need, and he loved it.
“You are silk inside.” He ran the lobe of her ear between his teeth. “My new favorite playground.”
Her nails cut deeper into his shoulder and even into his shaft, the sting as much a pleasure as a pain. She dove in for another kiss, working his tongue hard and fast before rearing back to gaze down at his shaft . . . at the beads of blood she’d drawn there. As if in a trance, she licked her lips, a look of absolute hunger consuming her expression.
His Lily was part vampire. Noted.
He throbbed as he ran a finger over his length to collect the beads. Beads he then smeared over her mouth. Her tongue darted out, pink and pretty, to lap them up.
“More.” The word was a rough command.
Yes, oh yes. “You can have more. From here”—he pointed to his mouth—“or here.” He pointed to his erection. “Your choice.”
A loud beep suddenly erupted from his phone. Hell, no. Not now. Take her! But the beep continued, and Lilica stepped away from him, the spell broken. A good thing. The beep was not a call but a warning. Security had just been breached.
He cursed as he hopped from the stall, the urge to murder the intruder strong. A quick scan of the screen revealed an open front door. He pressed a few buttons, rewinding the camera feed, and discovered Devyn.
Send him away. Return to Lilica.
She flattened her palms against the clear glass wall, her gaze hot on him. “You promised me more.”
Yes—no. Their first time wouldn’t be rushed or witnessed. She was going to scream. He was going to make sure of it.
Planning to do more than give them both an orgasm now?
Yes. No. Hell. Maybe. He was screwed—just not the way he wanted. “We have a visitor.”
The lights in her eyes slowly faded, and he almost screamed. “Danger?”
“No. Friend.”
She scowled. “Let me guess. Devyn.”
He offered a stiff nod. “I won’t allow him to harm you.”
“I won’t allow him to harm me.” She cupped her breasts. “For today’s meeting, I’ll be staying in here.”
“Good idea.” He pinched the hard crests of her nipples . . . then pressed another
finger into the paradise between her legs. “Do not bring yourself to orgasm.” The honor would be his, and his alone. “Wait for me.”
She unveiled another smile, this one pure challenge. “If I do bring myself to orgasm?”
He liked that smile. Naughty and nice, innocent and wicked all at once. “I’ll forget we have an audience and have you on your back in two seconds flat.”
9
Trembling, alone in the bathroom, Lilica slid to the floor of the shower. She should dress, march out of the bedroom, and teach the Targon king the error of his ways. Mess with me, die horribly. But she ached, and as the hot water continued to rain over her, a thousand little caresses from head to toe, she contemplated bringing herself to orgasm despite what Dallas had said. Or maybe because of what he’d said. Exploring her body was something she’d only ever done after taking over IOT, but she’d never felt like this. As if she were burning alive, and glad of it.
She should have told Dallas no, should have let him sink deeper into an animal state, but she’d been stinging from her encounter with Trinity. And then he’d taken off his shirt, all those delicious muscles on display. And his tattoos! He had three. A tree of life along both sides of his rib cage; a pair of eyes, one on top of each foot, and her absolute favorite, a group of musical notes over his heart.
The heat inside her disintegrated her restraint.
Screw waiting for Dallas, and screw his consequences. She brought herself to a swift orgasm, but oh, it wasn’t as satisfying as she’d hoped, leaving her confused once again about whether she’d actually had one.
Dallas would tell her she hadn’t. And maybe he’d be right. She still ached. Still needed.
Legs unsteady, she emerged from the shower at last. As cool air kissed her wet skin, she rifled through Dallas’s closet, then dressed in a T-shirt, a pair of boxers, and pair of sweatpants.
If he complained about sharing his clothes, she’d probably claw his face off. If you want to keep me, be prepared to provide for me!
Should probably provide for . . . myself?
Whatever. She braided her hair and, wanting to assassinate something, ripped up another of Dallas’s shirts to use as a tie.
