A sliver of unease skittered along her spine. She prayed he was right.
Chapter 15
Blaéz leaned against the eaves of the gabled roof of the warehouse, an arm braced on his bent knee. Somewhere in the distance a church bell rang twelve times as his rift duty drew to an end.
The day had passed astonishingly fast for the first time in his endless life. He’d taken Darci to her brownstone, which it appeared her godmother had bequeathed to her and her brother. She’d packed clothes and things she needed, then he’d taken her back to the castle. Only after he’d dropped her off did he deal with her boss. It had been easy enough to insert the knowledge in her co-workers’ and boss’s minds that she’d worked out her notice.
The blonde, Irina, had given him an invite and said to remind Darci about her engagement party. Guess he’d have to take Darci to that event.
The still night air stirred near him. Blaéz didn't bother to turn. He knew exactly from whom aggression rolled out in waves.
Dagan dropped down beside him. A faint coppery scent drifted from the warrior.
A quick scan revealed the male wasn’t hurt. Demoniis didn't smell of fresh blood when stabbed, they stank like decaying eggs since their blood turned black when their true souls died.
“Trouble?”
Dagan sent him an unreadable look before turning to stare down into the dingy alley. “Depends on how you see it,” he muttered. Pulling out a half-smoked cigar, he lit it.
Blaéz shifted and his arm brushed the warrior’s. At the touch, that timeless haziness appeared…
Night gave way to a barren landscape… heat… endless heat and no sun. Birds, bloody, torn apart… the warrior amidst them drenched in blood—
“Anything?” Dagan’s voice yanked him back.
Blaéz glanced at the warrior. He could make no sense of what that vision was supposed to mean. He didn’t know if it was a forewarning, or if he’d merely picked up a past thought. If it were the past, well, no one wanted their shit aired.
Before he could answer Dagan, the air below shifted. The serration where the rift had ruptured tore open again. Several dark figures stepped out.
Blaéz eyed the demons checking out the alley. In the bright moonlight, he’d recognized Maloch’s minions, the invisible branding marks on their faces glowed — indeed, he could see those clearly, since he’d seen them up close far too many times.
Dagan blew out a ring of smoke and flicked the cigar butt away.
One of the demons glanced up to the rooftop and bared his stained teeth in a snarl at Blaéz. “My lord will have what he seeks—”
Blaéz shoved into the demon’s mind as he leaped all twenty feet to the ground, and let loose his power. The shithead exploded.
Dagan flashed down from the rooftop, his sword shimmering into his hand and flew into the ones charging him.
Blaéz let fly a brutal kick and sent another demon crashing into the wall. He thrust into the scourge’s mind, turning him to ash seconds later, as well. A dark miasma seeped into him. Blaéz shook his head, tried to clear it. The pure evil triggered his own darkness.
A pale-faced demon grinned. “You’re so easy. Come along, pet.”
The insult barely registered. Voices trickled through Blaéz’s shields. You can't resist me, warrior, you know I have what you want… the familiar words slithered through his mind. The flickering rift slithered around him, tugging at him. Blaéz took a step forward—
“Celt—” With a vicious yank, Dagan slammed him against the grimy walls, pulling him back from the ominous hold. “Get your damn mind back on the job!”
The job? He shook his head to clear it. Right, he had to finish these fuckers.
The demon rushed him. Blaéz grabbed his mind and blasted him to pieces. Ash rained down to the eroded asphalt.
At the sound of a hiss, Blaéz spun around just as Dagan evaded a fiery demon bolt that had almost took a chunk off his head. It hit the wall in a dull explosion. Rubble scattered to the ground. Growling like a pissed-off tiger, the Sumerian attacked, sword winging, and beheaded the remaining demon. He pivoted, pinning Blaéz with a stone-cold yellow stare. “What the hell did he mean by that?”
Blaéz shrugged, struggling to hang on to his shields as the voices battered them, threatening to disintegrate them. “Can't imagine — but I still live with the hope I’ll somehow get my soul back.”
Dagan’s jaw tightened.
Yeah, that shut him up. A low blow, but it got him what he wanted. Blaéz dematerialized and found himself in another backstreet. The voices bantering inside his head turned up in full force. Maloch was toying with him. It was why he’d sent those fuckers here. If the bastard upped the pull, Blaéz knew he’d be dancing his way back into Hell like a marionette.
He stared blankly into the gloomy alley. With barely half the night gone, he couldn’t hold out. The cold inside him was growing too fast. He needed her. Stepping into the shadows, he dematerialized to the castle.
The moment he entered his bedroom, her warmth surrounded him, drawing him. He shut the door behind him. The sheets rustled, the bedside sconce flickered on. Darci sat up and swept her hair back from her sleep-flushed face. “Blaéz?”
As if under a compulsion, he crossed to her, reached out, and caressed her cheek. Emotions freed, desire raged like a geyser close to exploding. As if it weren’t enough he’d been fucked over by the Fates since birth and lived in a husk for millennia, now they had him by the balls with a hunger he could barely leash.
He didn't want to scare her with the raw need pounding inside him, or worse, disappoint her. If he took her now, it would be all about him, not her. Jaw rigid, his groin heavy, aching, he dropped his hand.
“Blaéz—”
He shook his head. Before she could ask what was wrong, he flashed to the bathroom, hoping to regain some damn control. He pulled off his clothes and stepped into the shower, turning it to a full-on icy blast.
***
Darci pushed off from the bed and hurried through the dressing room only to hesitate at the bathroom door, unsure what to do. Blaéz appeared too wound up, looked like he was caught in turmoil and couldn’t find his way out again.
Dammit, she couldn’t leave him like that. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open. The sounds of a rustling shower hitting the tiled surface filled the place. Through the clear glass pane she saw him — head lowered, fists braced on the wall as water crashed over him.
She ran across, opened the cubicle door and stopped dead. She’d seen him naked, but still, he took her breath away.
“Blaéz?”
He turned, blinked away the water, then his expression changed, as if the sound of her voice had cracked through whatever had had him in its grip. Those beautiful glacier blue eyes took on a wild, carnal glow. A powerful arm reached out and yanked her inside and into a blast of stinging, icy water. “Blaéz,” she gasped. “It’s freezing!”
With a low growl, he spun her around and pushed her against the wet marble wall. The water turned warm, the velocity eased. She barely noticed, far too aware of his naked body against her back, his erection a thick and hard length on her backside.
“You shouldn’t have come in here.” He dragged his tongue from her nape to bite the shell of her ear.
Her breath hitched. “I was worried.”
“You should be scared.”
Scared? God, with his body pressed against hers, every part of her had turned to molasses, desire dampening her core. The only fear she had was that he’d stop and leave her wanting. “Blaéz,” she panted, looking at him over her shoulder as his mouth tormented her neck with small bites and licks. “Please…”
As if her word was a trigger, he wrapped her wet hair around his hand, angled her face to his and kissed her, hard.
Darci tried to turn around, but his hand in her hair tightened, holding her in place. She leaned back into his body and met every stroke of his tongue with one of her own. He pulled up her nightshirt and slipped
his hand into her panties and rubbed her center with a calloused finger. She closed her eyes at the sheer pleasure flooding her. His mouth left hers and fastened on her shoulder as his fingers parted her. He teased her clit lightly then eased a finger inside her. Her eyes flickered open and her breath caught when she found him watching his hand thrusting in and out of her body.
God! The sheer eroticism of the moment had her knees weakening.
“You feel… incredible.”
Before she could draw her next breath, he pulled off her nightshirt and panties, tossing them aside. Turning her to him, his gaze swept over her body to linger on her breasts. Darci clenched her fists, trying not to give in to the impulse to cover her nakedness… Heck, he’d just had his fingers inside of her, what was a little skin. Her shyness fell away at the awe in his expression.
“You are a vision, a leannan.”
The raspy words torn from him made her hotter.
Rivulets of water ran down his pecs to the ridged surface of his abs. She traced their path with a finger. While she was soft with too many curves that could use a little gym time, Blaéz didn't have any give in his body. Each muscle sculpted to perfection. She leaned in and kissed his chest where he’d been hurt. “You are beautiful.”
He shuddered then shook his head. “No. Males are… just males. But you, little sun, I'm drunk on your beauty.”
He cupped her breast reverently. As if he’d never touched a woman before. Like a man possessed, he ran his tongue over her nipple then tugged on the peak with his lips. She grabbed his forearms, desire swelling again. His other hand went back between her legs, stroking her. Her breath hitched.
His mouth pulled hard at her nipple as his thumb pressed down on her clit in a rolling motion. Darci choked back a cry, everything in her focused on only one part of her body.
“No.” A growl. “I want to hear every sound you make.” He gave her clit a light pinch.
She jolted. Unable to bear the erotic onslaught of his mouth and tormenting hand, a moan tore out of her. He spread her feet with his, slid another finger into her, thrusting in and out. Unbelievable pleasure scored her mind. Her inner muscles tightened around his fingers as her climax built… he pulled out.
Noooo! She broke free from his kiss. His pale eyes glowed with a burning intensity. “You are exquisite, a leannan. But I want more. I want to taste your sweetness with my tongue. I want you to come in my mouth, I want it all.”
Her protest died in her throat.
Lowering his head, he gave her nipple another languorous lick with his tongue before hunkering before her. He ran his calloused palm up her left leg and pulled it over his shoulder. At eye-level, he could see everything. She didn't care. She wanted him so badly.
Raking his fingers through her curls, he spread her open and ran his tongue up her cleft. A shudder flew through her. A hand on her stomach, he held her against the tiled wall and lapped at her — once, twice. Pleasure rebounded. She panted, her hands sliding over his head, she tried to find purchase in his short hair then he sucked on her clit with long, hard pulls. Her entire body split. Her control lost, her body ablaze, caught in a whirlpool of pleasure. She could do nothing but feel, Blaéz her only anchor amidst this furious sensual storm.
Her heart thudding in her ears, legs trembling, she collapsed over him.
Blaéz rose. His mouth covered hers and he kissed her again. She tasted herself in his kisses — wanted more — wanted him inside her. Darci lowered her hand and grasped his thick erection. All smooth skin and steel, she stroked him.
He hissed as if in pain and removed her hand. “No. Or this will end before I want it to.”
***
By the heavens, he didn't want to mess up, but he was killing himself prolonging this. His cock throbbed in excruciating agony. But she was so damn sexy in her arousal, and worth the wait.
Blaéz kissed her again, taking in her shuddering breath. He couldn’t seem to stop touching her, tasting her — he needed her with a desperation that gnawed deep inside of him. Wanted her embedded in that empty place where his soul should have been.
He lifted her thigh and angled her hips, his cock sliding against her cleft. He tried to be gentle but knew he hadn’t a prayer in hell of that happening. The tempting heat of her slick flesh undid him.
Driven by a primal need as old as time, in one swift thrust, he entered her. She stiffened at his sudden intrusion, her fingers digging into his biceps. Her silky sheath fisted him so tightly, and at the unprecedented sensation, he gritted his teeth. It took all his will power not to pump his hips and find his release. He reached down to where his body impaled hers and stroked her clit.
She shuddered, her fingers biting into his shoulders.
“You okay?” he rasped
“God, yes! But you're killing me, Blaéz. Move.”
“Thank the stars!”
A husky laugh escaped her as he picked her up and braced her against the wall. Those long legs he adored locked around his hips. He sunk deeper into her body, her gasp music to his ears. By the heavens, she was so fucking perfect.
His mouth found hers and locked down in another scorching kiss. Angling his hips, he pulled out and thrust deeper. Then he could do little but just move, in a motion as old as time, he pounded into her. Harder. Faster… Her inner muscles tightened around his sex.
She pulled her mouth free, her eyes shut tight and whimpered.
“Look at me, a leannan.”
At his demand, those passion-glazed eyes flickered open as he drove his cock into her. Her muscles clamped him like a vise, and with a cry she crested and fell. Blaéz slammed harder into her and groaned. His own release rolled down his spine and exploded in a burst of light. He stiffened, spilling himself into her. Incredible pleasure flooded him. Brightness warmed him like rays of sunlight, filling the abyss in his chest. The connection so profound… it was almost as if their souls had connected.
Her head lolled on his shoulder, shaking him out of the strangeness he felt.
“Darci?”
She didn't respond. Her eyes closed, her face flushed from their bout of lovemaking.
Panic surged. Had he hurt her? He flashed to his bed and laid her down. Her arms fell away from him. He scanned her for injuries but found nothing. Dammit, he shouldn’t have been so rough with her. His saliva would heal whatever bruises he’d caused. He parted her thighs and licked her, worked her gently with his tongue, all his focus on her still face.
Come on, love, wake up.
Her legs tightened around his head. She breathed deeply. A dreamy smile touched her mouth. “That, was amazing — we forgot the condom.”
Amazing? She damn near gave him a heart attack.
In retaliation, and because he wanted to see her come again, he grasped her clit with his lips and sucked hard. She jerked and squealed in protest, grabbing his head to pull him off.
Ah, still a little sensitive, was she? He smiled. Perfect. For the scare she’d given him, he trapped her hands at her sides, pushed her past her comfort level and drew out another orgasm from her.
As she fell again, he crawled up her body and said, “Don’t need a condom, love. I’m safe — can't pick up any diseases… can't give you anything.”
***
Blaéz brushed his lips over Darci’s hair, inhaling her scent merged with the musky smell of their love-making. She lay curled at his side, eyes closed, legs tangled with his. He’d tired her out with his demands. But he couldn’t get enough of her. Only because she needed a break, he let her be.
Absently, he stroked her arm she’d slung over his waist. And like a cunning snake, reality slithered into him after the most transcendent moment of his long life. He may have taken Darci as his, but he could never claim her in the elemental way of his kind. There would be no bonding of souls. At the thought of just who had his, his euphoria dimmed and faded. His fingers clenched.
“Blaéz!”
At her sharp cry of pain, he shot upright. Even in the gloom, he
saw the red welt on her upper arm. Her shock. What had he done? Anger and self-disgust pulsing through him, he pushed off the bed and crossed to the dressing room. With jerky movements he changed, had no idea what the hell he pulled on, and walked out.
“Blaéz, wait-wait.” She got out of bed, naked.
As if his eyes had a mind of their own, his gaze slid down her body, and need corked him hard, like he hadn’t just spent hours with her, licking, tasting and touching every inch of her.
Cunning laughter erupted inside his mind. She will never be yours, try all you like to convince yourself of it.
His mouth compressed at the truth.
She’d yanked the sheet from the bed and covered herself, embarrassment reddening her face.
He’d made her uncomfortable. His self-loathing increased, as did his urge to put his fist through the wall. He wanted to tell her she was perfect, that he was the fucked-up one. All that came out was, “I'm… sorry.”
“You didn't hurt me — I'm fine.”
“Fine? Don’t sugarcoat my fuck-ups, Darci. I hurt you and that should never have happened.”
“I don’t understand — ”
“No, you wouldn’t.” I'm trapped by a bastard who controls me, who’s ruining this incredible moment. Christ, he was a fucking fool, with a fool’s dream. An abomination who’d tapped into her emotions, pretending he was normal — normal? What a goddamn joke.
Unable to say it, or look at her again and see the hurt eclipsing her happiness, he walked out. How could he explain this powerless feeling surging through him? This helplessness. No matter that he’d claimed her physically, she wasn't truly his, would never be. And he wanted her with every fiber of his being. He wanted her tied to him in the elemental way of their kind — with a soul bonding.
He jogged down the stairs to the foyer. Outside, he dematerialized, and moments later, he took form near the fighting pit downtown. The stench of fish hit him square in the face. Shoving open the heavy metal door, he headed down the dimly lit passageway into the glaringly bright arena and straight to the cage.
Breaking Fate Page 15
