He locked his arms around her lower back, as his body pounded into her. Anya reveled over every inch of him, so deep that it bordered on a pleasure-pain sensation, and that thought drove him wild. Knowing he filled her up so completely, gave her so much of himself, sent him over the edge like nothing else could have. She cried out, her screams of pleasure competing with the music from the ballroom.
As if in answer, the air around them thrummed with the brass-based dong of clocks striking the thirteenth hour. Dong. Anya arched, her body clenching his cock in glorious surrender to the orgasm that wracked her body. Dong. Hunter threw back his head, releasing a loud groan as his cock filled her with cum. Dong. They clung to each other, panting, as they listened to the clock strike ten more times.
Chapter Seven
Hunter stood upright, a soft smile on his lips, as he reached up to cup her face. His hands traced the edge of her mask before he lifted it over her head. “You are so beautiful, Anya McBrock.”
Joy filled her, quickly followed by the realization of what they’d done. “What happens now?” Despite her best efforts, her voice shook with uncertainty. To calm her nervous energy, she untied the ribbons that held his mask in place. As it fell away, Anya stared at him in amazement. Hunter’s face, all angles and pale skin, was as handsome as his jawline had indicated. And he was all hers… Forever.
He pulled free of her, his cock sliding out with ease. Hunter offered her a kerchief to wipe away the cum before laying a gentle kiss against her forehead. “I ‘ave a home, ready and waiting for us. It needs a woman’s touch. I’m sure yer sister and ya could cast a portal in one o’ the rooms if’n ya wished to continue working at yer shop.”
“My sister.” Anya stared up at him, the kerchief forgotten in her hand. “Amber will hate living alone! We’ve always been together.”
“She said she won’t mind living in a spare room of our home.”
Anya froze at his words, then glared at Hunter, suspicion filling her. “When did you talk to my sister?” Even to her, her tone sounded deceptively calm.
His lips twitched. “When I contracted a witch named Amber Kindler to perform a spell for me earlier today. I asked her to scry the whereabouts of my mate whom I’d been searchin’ for.”
“Amber can’t scry. It’s not her talent.” Anya dabbed at her pussy, her movements shaky and stilted as she tried to process this information. He said earlier today, but she’d tended the shop all day. Except for when she’d left to get the dresses.
Her gaze shot up as she stared at him. Him! He was the one she’d almost run over when she’d left the shop. Gods! She’d narrowly missed encountering the very man destined to be her mate. What if they’d never met at all tonight? What if—
“She didnae have to.” Hunter captured her face between his palms, lifting her face until he stared directly into her eyes. “I saw yer picture on the shelf and knew I’d found my mate. I just had to wait for ya to find me.”
Tears filled her eyes. No wonder her sister had been so insistent that tonight was the night while they’d gotten dressed. She’d known all along that Hunter would be here, waiting for them, waiting for her. He helped Anya stand, smoothing her gown around her.
“Come, Lady Peacock, I think we should return inside to watch the end of the night’s festivities.”
“No, I…” She shook her head. “If Amber knows about you, she knows where I am. I don’t think I want to go back in there. There’s too many people.”
“We can go somewhere else other than the ballroom,” he offered.
Anya mulled it over for a moment. What she wanted—no, needed—was a warm fireplace, a blanket, to get out of this dress, and time to process everything. The cool air the balcony exposed her too made her too cold to think now she wasn’t in the heat of the passion anymore. By all rights, she’d become a married woman, and the weight of her decision finally hit her now that she wasn’t wrapped up in the sexual haze he induced.
“Won’t the owner get mad if we go snooping around his castle?” she finally asked.
Hunter’s lips twitched and she stared at him, waiting for him to admit he owned the castle. It’d be par for the course at this point. “The owner gave me a master key and leave to go where I wished, as long as we didnae have sex in his private chambers.”
“He did not!” Anya responded as a shocked giggle escaped her. “Why would he do that?”
“After I left yer shop, I came here to ask Jasper for the favor. Our friendship has lasted many a year, but he was most insistent we couldn’t use his bed.”
She gasped and stared at him with an open mouth. “Jasper. The Jasper of Devonshire Castle? Is that where we are?” To her dismay, her words came out an excited squeal.
“Aye.” He raised one of those perfect eyebrows and tilted his head. “Donnae tell me ya covet Jasper. I’d rather not be killin’ the poor bastard.”
Anya laughed and shook her head. “I’ve heard so much about his library of magical tomes. There’s even a chance my ancestor’s original grimoire is here from when my family still lived in France. I’ve always wanted the opportunity to see the library and check… I’m sorry. I’m fangirling.”
“As long as tis nae him ye want,” her sexy Kelpie replied.
“No.” She shook her head. “That’s more Amber’s thing. She’s had a picture of him on her bedroom wall for years.”
Hunter crooked an elbow and escorted her from the balcony and back into the room they’d came through. “Perhaps she is with him now.”
Anya snorted. “I doubt it. Even she has limits to her moxie. He’s way out of league for the likes of us.”
“I think it might be wise to see what yer life is like now that yer my mate afore ya make such assumptions,” he responded as he unlocked the door and let them out.
Immediately, the sounds of celebration surrounded them even though the ballroom was down the corridor. The noise level overwhelmed her so much, she almost bolted back into the room they’d just walked out of. To her relief, Hunter guided her further down the hall and away from all the noise and people.
The furnishings around the castle were sparse, but certainly tasteful. The fact Jasper didn’t crowd his home with tons of pricey pieces to make a statement endeared him to her, though she figured she’d never meet him. He sponsored quite a few research teams and almost all of the rare paranormal events, but he never came to them. No one knew why, and theories ranged everywhere from claims of his death to bets that he hid a shameful disfigurement.
“Do you ever see Jasper?” she asked, afraid he’d chastise her for being nosey.
Hunter nodded while he navigated them through so many turns, she’d become lost already. “Aye. We speak oft.”
“I’ve never met him, nor seen him,” Anya admitted. “I don’t think the picture Amber has is even recent. He stays out of the public eye quite a bit, doesn’t he?”
They stopped before a set of ornate double doors and he paused to look down at her. “Jasper…has a good heart, but he likes his privacy. I cannae say I blame him. When ya grow as old as we, ya learn to appreciate the peace of solitude.”
A loud crash and a muffled yell pierced the air, and Anya found herself shoved behind Hunter. “What was that?” she asked.
“I don’ know. No one else should be in this section o’ the castle. Only we had permission,” Hunter said, then he shoved the doors open.
Mayhem filled the room. Books flew across the air, pelting a man with long black hair and a green suit matched with charcoal-colored pants. He wore no mask, and his features would have been strikingly handsome were they not twisted in a grim smile. Anya knew his face immediately. She’d seen it a thousand times, though he’d seemed far more composed then. Jasper of Devonshire stood before her, and he looked almost feral. A crazed combination of lust and anger blasted from him, washing over her in waves of emotion so strong, she nearly crumpled to the floor from it.
“What the bloody hell is goin’ on here?” Hunter demanded.
“Her,” the vampire lord snarl, pointing across the room.
“Fuck you! You started it,” an all-too familiar voice called.
Anya turned, wide eyed, to regard the tornado of swirling books that encompassed the opposite half of the room. “Amber?”
Some of the books paused, hovering and creating enough of a window so she could finally see her sister in the center. Amber expended so much energy levitating the books that her hair had returned to the normal blonde, but she didn’t look any less appealing. Her features were also twisted in anger, and her eyes flashed with wild magic that burned from too much emotion.
“What is going on?” Anya asked, doing nothing to keep the panic out of her voice.
Her sister had done something to irk the Jasper of Devonshire, and it didn’t bode well for them. Jasper was the one who created the rules for Midnight Masquerade, and very real terror filled her over whether Amber would live through the night. Was that why he threw off lust? Had a blood lust taken hold of him as he prepared to execute Amber for some crime?
Jasper snarled as Hunter took a step toward Amber, and her handsome Kelpie froze. “Ease, lad. I donnae want yer mate. I have mine, aye? Look.” He pointed at her, and the vampire’s eyes flicked her way, then he openly stared.
“That’s a doppelganger,” Jasper nearly growled, and the deep base of his voice made her see for the first time why her sister had been so infatuated with him.
She probably isn’t anymore.
“Wait, what? Mate?” She stared at Hunter in shock. “What makes you say that?”
“Jasper’s—” he began.
“Jasper?” Amber shrieked, and all of the books levitating around her fell to the floor. “He’s here?”
Anya watched everything as if it happened in slow motion. Her sister stared at the man she’d mooned over for years, then he seemed to disappear, only to reappear beside her within a heartbeat from across the room. Before anyone could move, he grabbed Amber, pulled her to him, utter something in French, and sank his teeth into where her shoulder and neck met.
Strong arms encircled Anya as she started to sprint for her sister. “Let me go,” she yelled, struggling in his grasp. “He’s going to kill the only family I have left. Please. Whatever the crime is, she didn’t do it.”
“He’s nae killin’ her, love. He’s claimin’,” Hunter whispered into her ear.
“You don’t know that!”
He placed a gentle kiss against her temple. “Aye, I do. He’s no longer stuck in the mirror.”
Chapter Eight
Hunter watched his friend perform one of the most glorious rituals in the world, and the joy of the events of the night filled him until his heart sang. His own mate’s distress increased when Jasper gave Amber some of his blood, but Hunter kept Anya tightly enclosed within his arms. If only she knew how long Jasper had suffered. How long both of them had waited for their mates.
Anya’s sister struggled in Jasper’s grasp. The little spitfire had spirit, and seeing it only made Hunter more certain the gods gave his friend the right woman. He didn’t fear his friend would accidently kill the young witch—the vampire would die first.
After a few minutes passed and Jasper seemed satisfied with the blood exchange, he allowed Amber to push him away. She glared at him as she wiped the blood from her lips, and even Hunter could feel the power she began gathering as she prepared to lash out. Thinking quickly, he released Anya so she could run to her twin.
“What happened?” his mate asked her sister as she sprinted across the room then drew Amber close. Whether Anya knew it or not, she threw off soothing waves of her own energy which affected even him. He watched as Jasper seemed to relax a little as well, though his friend remained silent.
“I was in here, looking for our original family grimoire. I found that”—she threw out a hand to point at an ornate mirror—“and thought it was a really good portrait of Jasper of Devon. How was I supposed to know the fucker was going to suddenly launch out at me? Except, I didn’t know it was him. There was this flash and bang, like a thunderstorm. And then this man tackle me, and I threw him across the room.”
“More like magically flung me,” Jasper stated in a dry tone.
“You deserve it, you pervy assaulter person,” Amber retorted. “Why I ever had a crush on you—”
“You have a crush on me?” The vampire appeared startled by the news. It didn’t surprise Hunter. His friend had never suffered from a large ego.
“Had. Notice the past tense, twat waffle.”
Hunter choked and watched as his mate placed a hand across her mouth and averted her eyes. When laughter did finally break out, it was from Jasper.
“Nearly a hundred years I’ve been stuck in that mirror, and this is what I come out to? The gods do have a sense of humor. Hunter, ol’ boy, where did you find these women?” Jasper asked once he’d composed himself.
“In America,” he replied with a wry smile.
The vampire nodded. “Ah, that explains it.”
“Wait. You said you were stuck in a mirror? How does one become stuck in a mirror, exactly?” Anya’s quiet voice sounded loud in the room as she asked the pivotal question.
Jasper’s face grew cold and distant as he regarded her for a moment. “Apparently, if you piss off the wrong witch by refusing to bed her.”
“If you’ve been stuck in a mirror for that long, how come you don’t sound positively archaic like Hunter does?” Amber demanded with her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
Hunter gestured at a television near the mirror. “He drove me bloody daft with that damn thing. Had me stoppin’ by to change the channel e’er few hours or put in a new movie. I cannae stand the damn things, but I had to learn for him.”
Awkward silence filled the air as they all stood there for a moment. Hunter found comfort in his bond with Anya. She’d accepted him and willingly came into his arms. But how were Jasper and Amber going to reconcile? He’d not touched her sexually, but he had forced a mate bond on her. Some people would find that unforgiveable.
Anya rubbed her palms up and down her sister’s arms as if warming her up. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. I don’t think he attacked you.” She then turned to look at Jasper over her shoulder. “Why did you tackle Amber?”
“I didn’t mean to. When she came near the mirror, it forcibly threw me out. I regret that I couldn’t have stepped out gracefully and wooed her as she deserves, but my curse prevented that. I can only hope Lady Amber will allow me to spend eternity rectifying my cruel behavior,” Jasper said.
“Tell me what your curse was exactly, and I’ll think about it,” Amber said, but even Hunter could tell she was starting to soften toward him. Perhaps her previous feelings were helping smooth the way faster. Hunter held no doubts that, eventually, she would be happy with his friend.
Jasper sighed and rubbed his temples. “As selfish as your love, you shall be, stuck in a mirror, a reflection only. This curse may be broken when your mate lusts for you, but the claiming will strip humanity too. She must kiss you of her own desire, or back in the mirror amidst hellfire.”
Amber’s eyes widened as he spoke the last line. “Hellfire? That doesn’t bode well. How long do you have before the mirror takes you back?”
She left the unspoken question hanging in the air. How soon do I have to kiss you? If she kissed him, but only to keep him from such a cruel fate, would it still count? Considering the spitefulness of the witch who’d cursed Jasper, Hunter doubted it.
“I don’t know. She didn’t specify.” The vampire pressed his lips in a thin, grim line.
Amber turned, walked to the nearest bookcase, and thunked her head against it a few times. “I’m. So. Fucking. Confused.”
“Amber?” Anya called her sister’s name softly, and Hunter’s balls tightened in need. How could something that sounded so sweet and loving make him imagine such naughty thinks in reaction?
He watched in silent awe as his mate spun calming and cla
rity empathy magic without effort. Did she even know she was doing it, or did it come as natural to her as breathing? He suffered a sneaky suspicion that she remained unaware of the influence she held over those around her. More than likely, she’d be appalled, citing some fear of taking free will or the likes as the basis for why she saw her actions as a crime. His beautiful, compassionate mate.
“Think this through. If someone were to tell you this morning that before the end of the night, you’d get to kiss Jasper of Devonshire, how would you have reacted?” Anya asked.
Amber’s laughter sounded almost bitter. “I’d have told them to stuff it, and not to toy with my emotions like that.”
“Mhmm. Because it’s something you’ve always wanted, isn’t it?”
The twins stared at each other a moment, an obvious silent exchange happening between them both. Whether they were talking via telepathy, or just communicating in that special way twins had a penchant for didn’t matter to him. All he cared was that his mate seemed to be endorsing his life-long friend, and it made him all the more certain the gods granted him a boon when they placed Anya in his life.
Jasper remained completely silent the entire time. His gaze snapped back and forth between the two women, but he kept his body completely relaxed. Hunter knew it was a sign his friend’s emotions were anything but calm. More than likely, Anya could feel it too. He had to give the vampire credit for holding steady with so much thrown at him. Perhaps it would win him favor in Amber’s eyes as well.
The spunky witch finally let out a deep sigh before turning to her new mate. “Look, we got off on the wrong foot. How about we start again and see where this leads? I’m Amber Kindler.”
Under the Mask: A Multi-Genre Collection Page 11
