Bond with Me

by Anne Marsh

  “Bonds require witnesses, dushka.” Brends reached the elevator bank and keyed in his private code with one hand. She might balk. Sometimes, the humans who came to the clubs weren’t ready to accept the earthy nature of the Goblins. Sometimes, when the bargain was spelled out in black and white, they reneged and ran. Until she agreed in front of his chosen witness, she could still walk away.

  Never mind that he’d chase her to the ends of the earth.

  “And his role in this?” She jerked her chin toward Zer as he followed them into the elevator cage, leaning with boneless indolence against the chrome and glass wall of the elevator.

  “He’s the witness,” Brends growled as the doors slid smoothly open onto his private office. He’d deliberately picked the big teak desk and black leather couches for the impact. Guests in his personal domain wouldn’t forget who was dominant here. Couldn’t forget that Brends was a sensual master in that domain.

  Her eyes widened, her breath catching, as she surveyed the place, her eyes returning to the nearest couch.

  “A witness to what?” She phrased her words as a question, but she knew. He could see that. The pink flush spread over her cheeks, down the curve of her throat. Instead of protest, though, there was only shocked interest that made his libido ratchet up another notch.

  “Does that make you wet, baby? He’s here to watch us. Watch you,” he growled against her throat, chasing that delicious flush of color with his mouth. She tasted so good. Through the fragile beginnings of their bond, he could sense her. Bright and spicy, the sweet, wet welcome of her body mingled with the cinnamon and chocolate scent of her soul. Warmth. Heat. A welcome he’d forgotten ever existed.

  “He’s going to watch us,” she repeated, but her eyes never left his face. Her thighs pressed together and he swore the scent of cinnamon and chocolate grew stronger. More inviting.

  “Yeah.” He waited.

  She surprised him again, and he should have known by now that Mischka Baran had a gift for surprising him. And that she never, ever backed down from a challenge.

  “All right,” she said, stepping toward him, sliding her arms up around his neck.

  “Kiss me,” Mischka ordered so that she didn’t have to think of Ming John or Pelinor or what the rogue out in G2’s gardens had tried to do. She was done thinking for tonight. Right now, she was going to do what her body demanded. With a small grin, she tugged his head down to hers. He was going to kiss her, and she was going to enjoy it and enjoy it and enjoy it. He cursed, a low, violent hiss of sound that slipped from his mouth and almost shocked her from the strange waiting silence of her needy body.

  He wrapped one hand around the back of her neck, holding her still for his kiss. His tongue plunged between her lips, stroking and licking her mouth as if it fascinated him. As if she fascinated him.

  She knew the moment Brends stopped holding back.

  His kiss was a hot revelation.

  He angled his head down and her chin up. His fingers were firm on her jaw, nudging her mouth open so that his tongue could sweep inside. His hands were deliciously warm and reassuringly solid after the shadowy coolness of the cave. Sliding her hands up his arms, she reveled in the feel of all those hard muscles.

  He smelled so damn good. Of outdoors and heat and some tangy musk that belonged to Brends and Brends alone. His hand tangled in her hair, using the long mane to angle her head backward for his deeper kiss. His tongue stroked the roof of her mouth, pressed against her own tongue. Deep, slow strokes that made her grow wetter. Fuller.

  Told her exactly what he wanted.

  With a guttural groan, he lifted her effortlessly to the edge of the massive desk that dominated the room.

  She turned the tables on him.

  From her perch on his desk, Mischka wrapped her legs around his waist. The wicked slit in her cocktail dress spilled the frothy, delicate fabric back around her waist. The thong she wore sent another heated bolt of desire jolting through him. A leather thong. Oh, yeah. His bonded-to-be had a wicked streak.

  “Put your leg here.” He patted the sleek surface of the desk beside her hip. Without taking her eyes from his, she slid her booted foot up beside her. Heat burned through him as the thick wedge of her boot arched her calf into a delicious bow, opened her up for him. He could almost taste her. The beautiful curve of her thigh had him clenching in anticipation.

  Her fingers ran lazily up the leather. Their fingers met, tangled on the zipper. The soft rasp of the metal filled the room. When he pulled off the boot, she arched backward on the desk. Watching him with heated, wary eyes.

  Running both large hands up her legs, he savored the delicious quivering of her muscles and the sweet, hot scent of her welcome. “Brends,” she groaned, shifting restlessly on his desk.

  “Yes?” he growled, wrapping both hands around her hips and dragging her closer to the edge. To him. The second boot followed the first, his hands massaging slow circles across her flesh. She shivered.

  Her fingers stroking over the harsh planes of his face, his cheekbones, dragging his face down to hers drove him crazy. Burying his mouth against her pulse, he drew her scent deep inside his lungs. His female.

  A delicious dampness moistened her thong.

  Deliberately, he stroked the hot, wet core of her through the fabric. She shuddered. He wanted to give her all the hot, messy, luxurious, self-indulgent sex she could handle.

  He was going to wake his ice princess up, damned if he wasn’t.

  Mischka recognized a challenge when it stared her in the face. Zer was here to make damned sure she didn’t hurt his boy. Fine. He wanted a show—he wanted guarantees—She’d make sure he couldn’t forget tonight.

  The wet ache between her thighs guaranteed she wouldn’t forget. She’d never been this aroused before, and Zer’s hooded gaze only made those flames burn higher. Because every time Zer looked at her, she saw the possessive heat in Brends’s dark eyes. Brends wanted her. And he wanted all of her.

  So if he wanted to play games, she’d play. And she’d play to win. Slowly, she stroked a hand up her midriff, drawing her fingers between the damp valley of her breasts. Two pairs of dark eyes followed each light touch and the sure knowledge of her power, of their attraction, made her grow wetter.

  Brends inhaled slowly and his eyes blazed. Oh, he knew. He knew what he did to her.

  She drew her fingertips over her collarbone, savoring the sensation as her body came alive. Sliding closer to the big male, she looked over his shoulder, pinning Zer with her own gaze. “You want to watch, big guy, you watch. But right now, Brends is all mine.”

  Deliberately, she reached up and pushed the heavy leather duster down his arms. His broad shoulders flexed as she trailed her fingers over their hard width. She wanted to press her lips to all that smooth, hot skin, but first she wanted him undressed. The leather straps of the longswords, which crossed his chest, stymied her.

  “Off.” She snagged the offending leather with a finger and pulled. Behind them, Zer inhaled sharply, but she was done caring about his presence. All of her senses were riveted by the male she was slowly revealing. Brends hesitated, but unbuckled the weapons, setting them carefully to one side. Close to hand. Hell, even with Zer to watch his back, he didn’t trust that he was safe. She should have been offended. Instead, she was flattered.

  Maybe he hadn’t underestimated her after all.

  She threaded her fingers through the long, sleek weight of his hair, tossing the leather band carelessly to the side.

  “You’re teasing the beast, baby.” His words were a primal promise. His eyes glowed for a minute and she hesitated. He wasn’t human. But she’d given her word. And somehow, she didn’t think stopping him now would be simple. Some sixth sense warned her that he’d stop his penetration of her body, but the bond they were building between them would remain in place nonetheless.

  He’d warned her.

  And she’d still wanted him.

  He braced his legs and reached for her.<
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  There was no turning back now, for either of them.

  Mischka Baran was a gift Brends didn’t deserve, but this was one present he was unwrapping. Her confident blue eyes, glazed with passion for him, were the hottest damned sight he’d ever seen and made his cock harden more than he’d thought possible.

  The bond was an excuse, he freely admitted, to get his hands on her delectable person. To give her a reason to trust him.

  He raised his hands to the front of her wicked cocktail dress, where Eilor’s blade had sliced through the laces. She’d dressed for him. Worn what she had to know would appeal to him. The concession to her femininity made him even hotter. The ruined sides parted with a delicious whisper of fragile fabric and he ran his hands up the delicate lines of her ribs, cupping her breasts.

  Those nipples that had teased him all night hardened.

  “I want to tongue those tight little nipples,” he said. Her eyes fluttered shut and the sweetest little whimper escaped her mouth.

  “Do it,” she panted. Oh, yeah, he would. He was going to do her good. Real good.

  “Rough or gentle, Mischka?” For now, until he had her bond, he’d give her the illusion of control. Bending his head, he tongued her nipples, rolling the sweet little fruits into his mouth. She tasted so damn good.

  When he shaped the soft skin in his hands, her legs scissored around his waist, all that damn material billowing around them like they were angels on clouds. Which he wasn’t. Would never be again.

  Ruthlessly, he stripped the material from her, dragging down the wicked scrap that passed for panties. He left the corset.

  She wasn’t cold now. No, she was all hot, wet cream.

  He ran one large hand down the arch of her spine and she pressed up into his caress. Stretched out before him. His beast growled, demanding its freedom. The thirst was an impossible fever, urging him to take more than her body. Already, he could sense her, the fiery, sweet soul that was Mischka Baran, the hesitation that had her holding back from him, keeping that little bit of herself disengaged from the pleasure he was pressing on her body.

  When they bonded, he’d be able to touch her mind whenever he wanted. She would—could—hide nothing. He’d feel every touch he gave her, would know what made her hot, would know if she held back any inch of herself from him.

  Damned if he’d let her hide from him now. She’d show him exactly how she felt.

  Dragging his tongue along the velvet bow of her neck, he savored the sweet female taste. Damp skin. The urgent beat of the pulse in the vulnerable hollow. She was nervous. And aroused. His. He tasted her, whispering compliments, praise. The soft texture of her skin, its warm scent, fascinated him.

  Brends’s spicy male scent teased her, but she couldn’t quite block out the hot, dark presence of the other male in the room. Zer was so still. Only his dark burning eyes moved. He wasn’t polite. No, he stared at her, making a blunt examination of the scene playing out before him. For him.

  When Brends lowered his head to her other breast, Zer leaned back against the walls, arms crossed over his chest with the inborn stillness of a predator. What would happen if her nerve broke and she ran?

  He’d stop her.

  She knew it bone deep. If Brends decided to have her, Zer would make sure that his brother got what he wanted. When he shifted, the small sound was almost swallowed by the heated whisper of skin against skin, Brends’s hands stroking over her bare skin.

  Brends froze. Possessive growl. Something unfamiliar, bestial, flickered over his face. Dark. Hard. Feral. Was that the inner beast she’d been warned about?

  “Mine,” he snarled. There was no mistaking the dark thread of masculine satisfaction. “Does it turn you on,” he rasped into her ear, licking a hot, damp path around the fragile curve, “knowing that Zer is watching you?”

  “He’s watching both of us.” Was that her voice that sounded so breathless, so needy?

  “No,” Brends contradicted. “He’s watching you. Watching you open for me. Smelling hot, wet pussy and knowing why.”

  His fingers stroked down her throat, smoothing into the sweat-slicked valley between her breasts. Circled each, teasing the tips.

  “Brends—” The word caught in her throat. She needed this, she needed him.

  “Whatever you need, baby,” he promised. “I’m here to give you whatever you need.”

  His fingers circled, moving lower to her slick, aching core. And then those fingers paused wickedly, tracing small, teasing strokes on the soft curve of skin just below her navel.

  “Maybe what you need is this,” he said. Stepping closer, he sank to his knees. His broad shoulders split her impossibly wide. Exposing her to his gaze. And Zer’s. Oh, God. When she hesitated, those large hands continued stroking their sensual pattern on her thighs.

  “Open up for me,” he urged. “Isn’t this what you want, love?”

  She looked up, dazed with the pleasure that fired her nerves. Zer’s gaze was hard and hot, fierce in its intensity. His eyes held hers and then deliberately dropped.

  He was looking at her.

  Flushing, she felt herself grow wetter. Brends’s thumbs stroked the swollen lips of her pussy, separating her with his thumbs. At the brutal shock of pleasure, she heard her own keening cry. She arched backward, searching for an anchor in the maelstrom of overwhelming pleasure. She was about to brace herself on the surface of the desk when Zer stepped forward.

  “Give me your hands,” he commanded. He moved behind her, twining his fingers with hers, supporting her. She was practically suspended between the two huge men—utterly at their mercy.

  Brends lowered his head and her breath caught. The wicked heat of his tongue pierced her aching core.

  Who knew such hard lips could be so wickedly gentle? When his tongue delved through her soaked folds, she came apart, convulsing. Zer’s fingers tightened on hers, anchoring her, even as his savage growl echoed in her ear.

  The female spread before him was stunningly erotic.

  And she was his.

  All that fierce desire that his ice princess had concealed behind her perfect facade was his. He had a fierce craving to make her lose control again. Brends had never seen anything so sexy in his long lifetime as Mischka Baran coming apart in his arms, those delicious little pants and the catch of her breath as she came.

  He was going to make her come again. And this time, he decided, she was going to scream for him. Good and loud. He hadn’t had a female in decades, and the lush taste of her on his tongue only made him want more. And he could have more.

  She rode the wave of the orgasm, leaning back against Zer. The male was being careful not to touch more of her than her hands. If he lost control of himself, however, he still could snap every one of her fingers. Her head tipped back against the male’s dark chest.

  Her dazed eyes focused on Brends. Wary but aroused. And the hint of wicked mischief was still in her eyes.

  Good.

  Deliberately, he opened her. Her flesh was meltingly hot around his fingers. “You feel good, baby.” With two fingers, he stroked the small opening, widening her.

  He pushed inside her slowly. Deliberately. Her slick pussy gripped him in erotic spasms.

  He wasn’t anyone’s dream lover. He knew that, and so did she. He was a Goblin, a beast who’d been booted out of the Heavens, and three thousand years hadn’t been enough time to earn his way back in. Fine. But she didn’t fear him and that was hotter than hell itself. He had a feeling that the female in his arms would give as good as she got. Oh, she’d let him push her sexual boundaries and she’d enjoy it. But eventually, she’d push back.

  Her pussy clenched on his finger. She was coming. So, hell, why couldn’t he enjoy this? He’d keep her safe and Zer would get his killer. Everybody benefited.

  Yeah. Before he could change his mind, he stood in one fluid motion and slid his thick cock inside her.

  “Choose,” he growled, stroking into her with long, slow, wicked thrusts. He
could feel himself losing control. Losing the discipline he’d spent three thousand years building. Ice Princess wasn’t the only one melting.

  Her dazed eyes looked up at him, her lips parting. “Choose what?”

  Choose me, he thought. He could feel the fledgling bond connecting them grow stronger, more tensile, snapping into place and coming to vibrant life. “You will bond with me.” He made it a statement, not a question.

  “Yes,” she said. Her fingers tightened on Zer’s, her body melting farther around Brends. “Yes to it all. You bond with me, Brends.” She said the words like she was asking him to fuck her. “You do it now.”

  Her hips twisted against his, her pussy squeezing his cock with a delicious urgency.

  Pleasure twisting through him, he lowered his head to her shoulder and bit. The skin broke and he tasted blood. Her blood. He took her essence deep into himself. Savored the wild, unfamiliar taste of his sweet female.

  “Mine,” he growled. His mouth moved over the small wound, surrounding it in an erotic, wet heat. Marking her. Her erotic intake of breath shot straight to his cock. It hurt, but she’d enjoyed the little sting of pain. Interesting. He made a note for the future. There were other, more exotic games he could show her.

  “Name the favor,” he said harshly. He dragged his tongue over the small bite. She tasted so damn good on his tongue.

  She wet her lips, but didn’t hesitate. “Pelinor,” she said. “I want you to find Pelinor Arden for me.”

  “And you swear that you are bound to me, to serve me and do whatever I ask of you.”

  She hesitated. His arms tightened. His fingers found her throbbing clit. Circled.

  Her breath caught. “Yes,” she inhaled. His fingers pressed. “Brends,” she wailed. “Now, damn it.”

  “Done.” Her scent was all around him. On him.

  Zer’s hands were stroking over hers, drawing her hands to Brends’s chest. “Witnessed.” The guttural groan was almost torn from his sire’s throat. Unbound hair sliding around their faces, he cupped a hard hand around the smooth skin of their wrists. His kiss burned against Brends’s forehead.