by Jo Carlisle
“Okay,” she said in a husky voice.
She joined him, and, slipping an arm around her waist, he ushered them from the room. “I think I’ll reward you for your swift compliance.” He considered for a few moments as they descended the stairs. “I’m going to speak with Nikki, our cook’s assistant. Wait here.”
Striding to the kitchen, he found Nikki stirring a bowl of eggs. The young man looked up and smiled hesitantly, no doubt still wary of him after the rendezvous with Leila. “Lord Soren. What can I get for you this morning? Want an omelet, or would you like to put in a special order?”
“Make that breakfast for two—omelets, some fruit and muffins, and juice. Instead of the dining room, however, I want the tray brought to the bathhouse,” he directed. His stomach growled in appreciation, and he thanked the gods that vampires could eat what they wanted.
“Yes, sir,” the boy answered brightly, setting down the bowl. He gave Soren a look of undisguised curiosity. “Is this for you and the new Chosen you brought home? The whole estate is buzzing about her.”
“Yes, and you’d do well not to listen to gossip about Harley, much less spread it.” His dangerous tone caused the younger man to pale.
“No, sir! I wouldn’t,” he stammered. “I was just wondering, that’s all.”
Giving the kid some slack, Soren clapped his shoulder. “Just a reminder. This female is special to me, and I won’t have her harmed in any way.”
“I understand, sir. I’ll send that tray right over.”
“Good boy.”
Leaving Nikki to his work, Soren rejoined Harley, who was chatting with Jordy. On seeing Soren’s approach, the boy bid her a quick good-bye and hurried back to whatever he was supposed to be doing.
“I think he’s a little intimidated by you,” she remarked as the Chosen vanished through a doorway at the end of the corridor.
“I don’t know why. I’ve never done a thing to Jordy.” He frowned.
Oh, but you want to, the beast rumbled. And you will.
Not now. With great effort, he squashed the intruder and offered Harley his arm. “Shall we?”
“I can’t wait to see what you have in mind.”
He led Harley toward the back of the house and turned down the hallway that skirted the gardens. The outside wall was glass from floor to ceiling, giving a great view of the lush, tropical flora and fauna that flourished in the Deep South. He watched her admire the scenery, taking pride in his home. It was as close to paradise as they could make it, and he loved sharing it with someone special.
At the end, he pushed through a set of doors, and beside him she stopped to stare. “Oh, wow. This is unbelievable.”
“Isn’t it?”
He took in the space as though viewing it through her eyes. The bathhouse was enclosed, the pool a large L surrounded by palatial columns, plants, and flowers. The vaulted ceiling soared overhead, making the room seem even bigger than it was. Fragrant steam rose from the surface of the pool, testifying to cozy heat for those who ventured in. At the moment, they had the place to themselves.
He waved a hand. “This is one of my favorite areas of our resort.”
“I can see why! It’s amazing. Are we getting in?”
He didn’t miss the enthusiasm in her question, and grinned. “Of course. Ladies first.”
Without hesitation, she shed the robe and waded in, the water lapping at her ankles and thighs as she carefully negotiated the steps. It wasn’t too deep, barely more than waist high, and she walked out a ways, slapping her palms on the water’s surface like a playful child.
Chuckling, he followed suit, leaving his robe in a heap next to hers and venturing out. The warm bath felt so good, soothing muscles that had gotten much exercise of late. Reaching the spot where she stood splashing, he grabbed her around the middle, pulled her back against his front, then bent to nibble her neck. She giggled.
His erection rested along the crease of her butt, eager to be buried in her snug channel, but he didn’t want to rush this. He wanted to know this intriguing woman inside and out.
“The water smells so good,” she commented, dipping a hand in and bringing a scoopful to her nose.
“Herbal bath salts. They’re supposed to promote healing and relaxation.”
“I don’t think they work.”
“How so?” He nuzzled her ear.
“You’re not relaxed.” To prove her point, she ground her bottom against his rod and tilted her head to the side, baring her neck in submission.
Laughing softly, he let his teeth graze over the delicate skin but didn’t bite. The prize would be sweeter for the anticipation. “Not yet, beautiful. Let’s eat our breakfast.”
He gestured to a servant who’d arrived bearing the promised tray. The man placed it poolside and addressed Soren. “Will that be all, sir?”
“For now. Thank you.”
The man nodded and left, and Soren took her hand, leading her to a built-in bench that was set just a foot or so below the water line. Taking a seat, he pulled Harley onto his lap and positioned her sideways, one arm holding her tight.
“If this isn’t the height of decadence, I don’t know what is.” Smiling, she placed a palm on his chest. “I feel so spoiled.”
“I believe you deserve to be pampered some after what you’ve been through.” The idea of her being alone in the world, homeless, jobless, and struggling to survive, made his gut churn. Yet she’d survived, where Helena would not have.
Harley shook her head. “I don’t know about that. I just did what I had to do and went with the hand I was dealt.”
The truth of that hit him hard—Helena would have been eaten alive if left to survive on the streets. She would never have been as resourceful or bounced back as well as Harley, and she would’ve died before consorting with demons or allowing herself to be placed on the auction block. The shame would’ve killed her. Another resounding difference between the two.
“You’re an amazing woman,” he murmured.
Succumbing to temptation, he crushed his mouth to hers, tasting as his fingers skimmed down the slick swell of her breast to find a pert nipple, puckered and tight from being wet and then exposed to the air. He played with it as he swirled his tongue with hers, stroked, teased, and pinched until she arched against him, whimpering for more.
Pulling back, resisting the urge to impale her then and there, he caressed her cheek. “Food first, then play.”
“Or food while we play,” she suggested in a husky voice, wiggling on his lap.
“Perhaps. Now hold still.” He tried to be stern, but managed only to sound as needy as his companion—a fact that didn’t escape her, from the heated look she gave him.
Reaching out to the tray at the edge of the pool, he took his fork, cut off a bite of omelet, and speared it, bringing the savory morsel to her lips.
She frowned. “I’m not an infant. I can feed myself.”
Her mutinous expression was cute, with her jaw set and green eyes glittering, but he forced himself not to smile. That would undermine his authority and ruin the lesson. Instead, he arched a brow and returned her glare with a stony look. “Are you defying me, Chosen?”
Startled, she blinked at him, annoyance vanishing. “No. I’m sorry, master.”
Softening his tone, he relented some. “I know. The more you’re with someone, the easier it is to get comfortable, forget who’s in charge. I don’t want you to walk on eggshells around me, but you must remember I’m in control. Always.”
“I’ll do my best, sir. Though I admit I’ll probably forget again, because I’ve been on my own for so long,” she said. She took the bite he offered and chewed, humming in pleasure. “That’s fantastic.”
“Our cook is the best.” He fed her more, and decided that just observing her while she ate was an orgasmic experience. He liked the way her pink tongue flicked out to catch the bits, how she closed her eyes as she enjoyed the meal. He liked taking care of her needs.
All of the
m.
After he’d fed her the omelet and fruit until she protested that she was full, he questioned her between bites of his own meal. “Tell me how it happened that you ended up on your own.”
“I already told you that my boyfriend got me fired and—”
“No, before that. Where is your family?”
She looked away, but not before he saw the flash of pain. “They’re all dead. My parents and younger brother were killed in a car accident several years ago. They had a modest income and not many credits saved, so I used what I’d managed to save from my job at the newspaper, then sold the house to pay off the bills.”
“What about aunts and uncles? Cousins?” He tried to sound casual, though he was dying to learn what had become of Helena’s branch of the family after the Fontaines had lost touch with them, as well as if and how Harley was descended from her.
“I have a few cousins scattered around, but we were never close and I don’t know how to contact them. As far as aunts and uncles, they’re all gone, too.”
Damn. No information there regarding his dead mate. He wasn’t going to learn more unless he told her about Helena outright, and he wasn’t ready to do that. Not yet. Setting down his fork, he turned all his attention to the woman in his arms.
“I’m sorry for what you’ve had to go through,” he murmured, kissing her lips.
“It’s been difficult. But I’ve come through it, thanks to Val . . . and you.”
Harley was far from out of the woods where Soren was concerned, but he didn’t have it in him to tell her that he might just be the greatest nightmare she’d ever faced. No, he was much too selfish to ruin this developing closeness. He wanted her, and it didn’t matter at the moment who she was or where she’d come from.
She was simply his.
And it felt right.
Putting his back to the pool’s edge, he turned her to face him so she straddled his thighs. His cock was nestled against her curls, the swirl of the warm water adding a welcome caress. He ached so badly, but was more determined than ever not to rush this wonderful interlude. Cupping both breasts, he thumbed the stiff peaks of her nipples, loving her breathy gasp and how she pushed into his touch.
Continuing to pluck at one nipple, he slid a palm down her stomach, below the surface of the water, to grip his cock. He fisted it tightly, moaning as he pumped the shaft with agonizing slowness, letting his imagination run wild.
“Do you need some help with that?” Harley asked, lips turning up.
“I’d love some.” He took one of her hands, but she pulled back.
“Not like that,” she said with a mischievous grin. “I’m going to be a mermaid, seducing my sexy sea captain.”
“Really? How?”
“Watch.”
With that, she pushed off his lap and moved to stand in the deeper water a few feet beyond the bench. Taking a deep breath, she lowered herself until she was completely submerged. In fascination, he eyed her rippling form as she swam toward him, long auburn hair streaming behind her like a banner. When she reached him, she tugged on his calves, urging him, he thought, to scoot to the lip of the bench.
He did and was rewarded.
Slender fingers squeezed his balls and began to manipulate them, a damned good feeling in the medium of water. But when she took the head of his cock between her lips and began to suckle him . . .
He nearly came undone. If anything had ever felt as fucking terrific as being sucked underwater, he couldn’t recall what it might have been. “Shit,” he moaned, lifting his hips. If any sea captain had encountered a mermaid like this one, he hadn’t stood a chance.
That hot, tight cavern enveloped his dick like a silken glove. She took him deep inside, down her throat, doing something mind-boggling with her tongue and the muscles of her throat to massage his length, driving him to the very precipice. Gripping her hair, he indulged in fucking her, using her as his naughty hole.
In and out, making her swallow all of him. To the root. His balls boiling.
But he didn’t want to come yet, and he had to let her up for air. Worried that he’d let her go too long, he forced her head up, grabbed her, and hauled her back into his lap. She heaved a lungful of air, and he wiped her face and her soaking tresses clear of water.
“That was incredible,” he praised. “Are you all right?”
“Better than.” To prove it, she reached between them and grasped his throbbing shaft. “Is this for me?”
“It is, and I hope you’re ready, because I can’t wait another second.”
His hands spanned her waist and he lifted her slightly, then took his cock and brought it to her pussy lips. She needed no further encouragement and sank onto him inch by inch, lashes fluttering closed.
“Oh, Soren. Master.”
That damned word! It tossed him into the abyss every single time. Capturing her mouth with his, he began to fuck her with slow thrusts. There was nothing finer on earth than the joining of two bodies, lost to passion. The tips of her nipples lapped at the water and grazed his chest as they bounced together, her fingers digging into his shoulders.
It wasn’t going to be long before he lost control, and he relished the moment as much as he dreaded it. He didn’t want this moment to be over, but his body demanded completion. That he mark this female as his.
His to fuck. To drink. To do whatever he wanted with, because she’d given herself to him.
He increased the tempo until he was slamming into her, putting as much force into it as he could, given their position in the pool. When the tingling started in the base of his spine and he knew he couldn’t hold off anymore, he pulled her head back, bared her throat, and struck.
Her scream of ecstasy, her pussy clenching around his cock, drove him over the edge. As her rich blood flowed over his tongue, his release erupted, shooting spurts of hot cum deep into her womb. He drank until they were both sated and then withdrew. She slumped against him and he just held her for a while, enjoying the intimacy of being buried in her after what they’d shared.
“You, sweetheart, are amazing.”
She cuddled close, and he heard the smile in her sleepy voice. “No, that would be you.”
He kissed the top of her head. “Why don’t we bathe and get dried off? Then I need to make some rounds and check on the guests.”
“Whatever you want, master.”
A grin teased his lips. “I think you already know how that gets to me.”
“Does it?” A finger trailed down his chest, her fingernail scratching lightly at his nipple.
He shivered and moved her off him with regret. “You know it does, naughty girl. Come on.”
Grabbing some soap from a built-in ledge nearby, he scrubbed them both from head to foot. They had fun dunking each other while rinsing off; then he led her from the pool and fetched them two big fluffy towels from a rack.
Once they were both reasonably dry, he left the towels poolside for the staff to pick up and grabbed their robes. After helping Harley with hers, he shrugged his on and took her hand, leading her down the glass corridor once more. When they reached the staircase, he gestured toward it.
“Go and get dressed. I’ll see you later,” he promised.
“Aren’t you coming up with me?”
“No.”
“But you’re still in your robe.” Her brows furrowed.
“Exactly. Our guests frequently see me in less, darling. It’s part of their entertainment,” he said.
“Now I know what you meant by make some rounds,” she muttered. She looked so miffed, he couldn’t help but laugh.
“Yes, now you do. Go,” he ordered, sobering. “Remember who’s in charge.”
“Yes, master.”
She obeyed, but not before shooting him a rebellious look and marching up the stairs. Fire. He liked that. So unlike Helena, his Harley. In every way.
“A delicious piece of ass, is she?”
Soren turned, squelching a curse. He hadn’t heard Leila sneak up
on him from behind, and he hated that. He noted the skimpy shorts and top she wore, as well as the fact that she really did nothing for him. Without the black magic she wielded to use his mind and body, he’d never look at her twice.
“I’m not discussing her with you,” he said evenly. “Especially our sex lives.”
Closing the distance between them, she parted his robe and palmed his softened cock. “Really? What a shame. I suppose I’ll have to content myself with other adventures regarding my mate—for the time being.”
“Leila,” he ground out, removing her hand. “I have guests to tend.”
“Of course.” Smirking, she raked him with her hungry gaze from head to toe. “You do that, and I’ll see you later. Remember your task, though.”
He worked not to show his exasperation. “What task is that?”
Leaning close, she whispered, “Take the one you’ve been waiting to taste. Bury yourself deep and drain him dry. You want it.”
“No.” His protest was spoiled by the quickening in his groin, in his blood.
“You do. I can see the truth. There’s no point in resisting what you are and all you can be,” she urged. “You’ll do it. When you can’t stand it another moment, you’ll fuck him—”
“I can’t.”
“—and you’ll kill him.”
“I won’t.”
She spun and sauntered off, tossing him a knowing smile over one shoulder. Then she was gone.
He wanted to deny what she’d said. But the beast that had been blessedly quiet during his time with Harley awoke with a vengeance. It stretched and growled in dark anticipation of doing exactly what the witch commanded.
Admit you want to fuck, to kill. To be what you were meant to be, and more.
“Yes,” he whispered helplessly, the blackness descending.
He was left alone, his mind struggling against it, but his body aching for it—the taste of his prey’s total surrender.
And the elixir of death.
7
Soren toweled himself off, drying his hair as much as possible. He dressed in jeans and a mesh shirt that showed off his chest and abs, a teasing look the guests liked, and he didn’t mind indulging them. After all, they were paying. Then he brushed out his long hair, leaving it to finish drying naturally, and went in search of his oldest brother. He’d been putting this off for a couple of days, ever since the interlude in the bathhouse with Harley, and that was too long.
