I like them just the way they are, he said softly, his hands just as soft as they cupped the aforementioned breasts.
A man will say anything when he's about to be soaped up and washed off.
His fingers stroked lazy circles around all the sensitive parts of my chest. I leaned forward into his hands as his mouth closed onto the wonderfully ticklish spot beneath my ear, shivering just a little as the warm water lapped around us with tiny, oil-slicked erotic movements.
"No more," I murmured into his hair.
"No?" He pulled back from where he was nuzzling my collarbone.
"Not for a bit. This is my turn. I get to drive you wild." I smiled a special wicked smile that I kept just for him and soaped up the sponge. "You, sir, need a bath, and I'm just the woman to see that it's done properly."
"You are so arousing when you give orders," he said, his half-closed eyes giving me a look that went straight to my groin. I just smiled and soaped up his arm, running my fingers along the slick surface of his skin, feeling the hard muscle flex and tense as I made soapy little finger designs along the flesh. I leaned forward to nip at his lips for a second while I soaped up the second arm, kissing him properly and biting his lower lip until he gave me what I wanted and opened his mouth.
He groaned into my mouth as I stroked the soapy muscles on his arm in time to the gentle little dabs of my tongue around his lips.
"Now for your chest," I said, pulling away. The water came to just above his belly button, which left me a delectable amount of chest to play with, and play with it I did. I soaped, I swirled, I spread my fingers across the muscles and through the chest hair, and watched his skin ripple in response.
"I like your chest," I murmured into his mouth.
"I like you liking my chest," he answered, his hands on my hips, tugging me forward.
"Not yet. First I have to wash you."
"I am not certain I will be able to survive such a delight."
"You'll just have to give it your best shot," I answered just before taking him into my soapy hands. "I have decided I like this extra bit you have."
His head tipped back and his eyes closed as I explored his hard length, letting my fingers dance on him as he had done earlier to me. I was suddenly possessed with a desire that shocked me because I'd never thought I'd willingly want to do it.
I moved off his legs. His eyes opened quickly and he looked at me with a worried concern that touched my heart. I smiled. "Slide up onto the seat."
The bath was so large that it had a broad marble ledge that ran around one side. He looked at the seat, then looked back at me, one eyebrow cocked.
"I know what I said, and I meant it at the time. My ex-husband used to make me—"
He laid a finger across my lips, then replaced it with his lips. "There is only you and me, Beloved."
I bit his finger, then kissed away the sting. "Then move over to the seat."
He did. The water now lapped at his thighs. I put a hand on either knee, sliding my spread fingers up the slickness of his legs, spreading them wider so I could kneel between them.
"Allegra, you do not have to do this…"
"I know," I said, slanting a look up at him. His eyes were hot and filled with passion, his chest rising and falling quickly as my hands slid around his heat. "I want to, Christian. I want to give you pleasure."
"Every breath you take gives me pleasure, Beloved. What you wish to do may just kill me."
"What a way to die." I smiled before lowering my head to him. I relaxed the moment I tasted him. This wasn't like the times in the past. Christian was different; he accepted what I gave and opened his mind to me so I could feel the elation my touch was bringing to him. I swirled my tongue around his flesh and reveled in the way I made his hips move, experimenting until I found a rhythm that I knew was driving him mad with pleasure, then redoubled my efforts until he suddenly pulled me upward along his body, my breasts pressed against his chest, my legs straddling his, the hard, extremely aroused tip of him nudging me open.
Let me love you, Beloved.
I tightened my arms around his head and wiggled my consent. He lowered me with so much gentleness that it brought tears to my eyes. How could one man be so very different from the others I'd known? How could one man care so much that every stroke of his fingers did nothing but push me to higher arousal? How could one man fill me with such joy that I happily merged myself with him in order to show him how much I craved his touch?
You are my Beloved. I can do no less.
I moved upon him, relishing the feeling of such erotic impalement, thrilling in the way he filled me, moving upward just so I could experience again the pleasure of him pushing into my body, joining with my flesh until there was no ending of him and beginning of me; there were only our two bodies and hearts and minds sharing every moment.
When his teeth pierced the flesh beneath my ear, I shouted his name, knowing this was right, it was meant to be, and that nothing would ever change that. He drank from me and my body contracted around him, pushing him into joining me as our bodies burned brighter than a supernova.
His hunger filled my mind as he continued to drink, but now there was another need in his mind, the need for me to take the same from him. His tongue was soft on my neck as he whispered the words in my mind.
Feed, Beloved. I know you wish to. Join with me. Take from me what only I can give you.
I trembled on the verge of another orgasm as he continued to move within me, the scent of him filling me, merging with the desire that he had recognized but which I refused to admit. My tongue swirled over the tendons in his neck, his pulse beating loud in my mind. The thought of tasting his blood teased me, aroused me further, claimed every thought in my head until all I wanted was the taste of him on my tongue.
Yes, Beloved. It is right. It is as it should be.
His finger traced a small line on his neck, blood welling up from it and beading along the scratch. I stared at the ruby drops gathering and felt my body ache in response. I lowered my head to his neck, wanting to lick, the wound, wanting to taste him in a way more intimate than anything I'd ever done, needing to take his life's blood into my body and complete the circle. Several drops gathered together and snaked a crimson trail down his neck.
More than anything else I wanted his blood.
A tiny voice in my mind screamed out its objection. If I did this, if I took the final step of Joining, there would be no going back. I would be trapped forever, without escape, without the power to leave him. If I let those tantalizing drops of red touch my tongue, I would never again be completely in control of my life; I would be governed by him.
Beloved—
"No." I turned my head and nuzzled it into the other side of his neck, a profound sense of loss making me sob with frustration. "I can't, Christian; I just can't."
Do not distress yourself in this way. Take only what you want from me, no more. I will never force you, Beloved. I seek only your happiness.
He moved within me again, kissing my neck and urging me to move faster upon him, sharing with me how much pleasure he felt. I gave in to the demands of my body and whispered my need into his mouth. He kissed me, his tongue mimicking the movement of our bodies until I knew his hunger would claim me. I tore my mouth from his and arched my back, trembling as his teeth closed on my breast, the familiar flash of pain dissolving instantly into ecstasy as our bodies and minds celebrated our joining in the most elemental manner possible.
It was just a few minutes shy of dawn when Christian carried me back to the mammoth bed, both of us exhausted, my body still humming with the pleasure he had given me. He'd made me scream out his name four times, not three, but as he had done the same, I was happy. I lay limp in his arms and listened to his heart beat, too sated and contented to question whether making love with him had been the wrong thing to do.
It can never be wrong between us.
Do I have to put up a No Trespassing sign ? I smiled into his mind.
I cannot help sharing your thoughts. It is the way of things.
I let that go and just enjoyed snuggling against him, drowsily tracing protection wards on his hip. "What are we going to do about finding the location of those two houses in town, Christian? You don't happen to know any clairvoyants, do you?"
"Yes, but not one you wish to consort with."
I looked up to frown a question at him.
"She is a Guardian."
"Oh. You're right. We don't need to bring a Guardian into this." Guardians are powerful mages who shield those hot spots in the world that are open to the influence of the dark forces. You'd be surprised how many of those places there are. The city of Detroit alone has hundreds of them. "How about hiring a really good private detective to look up the leasing and ownership records of likely houses?"
He stroked one of the sore spots on my back, his fingertips warm as they healed the bruise. "I've already done that. The Trust has covered its tracks in a very clever manner; it was only through a lucky coincidence that I found out who leased the house in Greenwich."
"Poop." I thought about the problem, worrying it from a new angle. "You can talk to your friend the way you can with me, right?"
"It's not quite the same, but yes, we do not need words to communicate. I have tried to reach him repeatedly, but either he is too weak to answer, or he is at too great a distance for me to find him."
"How great a distance is too great?" I asked, wondering if perhaps I was wrong in my assumption that the Dark One was being held in London. Perhaps they had shipped him off to Scotland.
"For Sebastian? A few miles. Three or four, perhaps."
I frowned again, propping myself up on my elbow to look at him. "So little? I was all the way across town and you didn't have the slightest bit of trouble reaching me."
"You are my Beloved. It is much easier to maintain contact with you."
"Still, a couple of miles doesn't seem like a very big range."
He touched a bruise on my shoulder. "The distance can increase if I were to know the exact location of the person I'm trying to contact. The powers of a Dark One are great, malý váleèník, but they do have limitations. If I do not know where Sebastian is, when I send out a call, it goes out in all directions until it reaches him. Once he answers I can focus the call so it goes directly to him. Until I know where he is, however, I must blanket the area. That reduces the distance I can reach."
"Oh. Sorry, I didn't mean to accuse you of being weak in the mental department." I snuggled back into him, stroking his chest. "I think our answer is going to have to be something illegal."
"Breaking into the Trust offices and searching for information?"
I nodded and kissed the little dip at the base of his throat. Above my head, he sighed, tightening his arms around me. "I fear that is the only solution I can see, as well."
"We should do it tonight. It's less likely that anyone will be around in the offices. They'll be too busy trying to raise spirits elsewhere."
Christian said nothing.
"Then again, they might expect us to do just that, although I don't think they know what it is I'm seeking. It's possible that if they really do know who and what you are, they will connect you to Sebastian, but we can't be certain of that."
His chest moved slowly beneath my hand, one breath to every five of mine. "Hmmm. You know, with your new tolerance of sunlight, it might be better if we waited until just before dawn. Then Guarda and Eduardo and Phillippa would likely to be heading off to their beds, never thinking that you would be able to get out and about then."
His body lay tense beneath my cheek. I wondered briefly if he was worried about the sunlight. "Of course, there's always the direct approach. I could hire myself a couple of really big bodyguards, and just march into the office during the day. Maybe I'd luck out and Guarda and the gang would be out to lunch or something."
Not only had his fingers stopped stroking me, he didn't veto the last, asinine plan that even I recognized was pure folly. Brute strength was nothing to the power of the triumvirate, and if Guarda had any brains at all, she'd be sure to keep Eduardo and Phillippa close by just on the off chance I came calling.
"Christian?"
"Peste," he swore, gently rolling me off him and getting to his feet, grabbing a pair of black jeans and pulling them on. Tension was visible in every line of his body.
"What's wrong?" I sat up and pulled the sheets up over my chest. "Christian?"
He started for the door to the hallway. "Don't you feel it?"
I stilled and opened myself up to the house. "No, I just feel the gruesome fivesome. They're all in your study. What is it? The triumvirate?"
He spat out a word as he slipped through the open door, leaving me frozen with fear.
Demon.
Chapter Fourteen
"Oh, crap," I breathed, for a moment too terrified at the thought of a demon to do anything. Then I realized that was the man I loved out there about to battle a soldier of some demon lord, and it was my job to be at his side, helping him where I could. Summoners might not be any great shakes at fighting minions of the dark, but we do have a few tricks up our sleeves. I hurried into my jeans and pulled on a sweater, taking time to step into some shoes before dashing out into the hallway and racing down the stairs.
Demons go to ground whenever possible; they draw their strength from the earth, and get weaker the farther they are from it. Therefore, demons will almost always engage you in battle in a basement. I stumbled down the stairs to the ground floor, my leg screaming its protest at the combination of my earlier exercise in the tub and being jolted down two flights of stairs.
"Allie? What is the matter?" Esme appeared at the top of the stairs.
"Demon," I called over my shoulder as I ran for the door to the basement stairs. "Stay in the study and keep the others there."
I tried desperately to remember the little I'd learned of demon lore. What did come back to me had me spinning around on the stairs and gritting my teeth as I forced my poor leg into leaping back up the stairs to Christian's study. I ran straight through Esme, and then Antonio as he drifted through the door, throwing apologies and orders over my shoulder as I scrabbled through my bag. "Sorry about that, Antonio. Esme, bring Alis back in here. You'll be safe here. Where the heck is my… Oh there it is."
"Mi amor, what is the problem? That one, 'e 'as frightened you? 'E will answer to my sword this time, that I will swear upon my life."
"You're dead, and the problem isn't Christian; it's a demon. For heaven's sake, stay here where you're safe." I gathered up my chalk, the bottle of holy water, and my notebook, and spun around, dodging Alis as I hurried back down the stairs. My leg was screaming, but not as much as my mind. Christian had been alone with the demon for two or three minutes; what was he doing? Did he have experience with demons? Did he know they didn't like water, that if you captured one in a circle, it could be made to tell the truth about who summoned it? Did he know how to draw a circle strong enough to hold a demon? And worst of all, just what type was the demon—one of the weak minions, or a strong emissary of a demon lord?
The smell hit me as I raced down the basement stairs. Demons have a very strong odor, something that has been compared to that of a moldering grave. Never having stuck my nose in a moldering grave, I couldn't say, but I did know the smell raised all the hairs on the back of my neck and made my internal warning system go into overdrive trying to convince me to turn around and get myself out of there.
What I saw as I threw open the door to the wine cellar stopped me dead in my tracks. Christian leaned against the wall nearest the door, his arms crossed over his bare chest, his eyes solid black. Standing at the end of one of the six-foot-tall wine racks was a handsome man in a three-piece suit.
A very handsome man.
An exceptionally handsome man. One with dark blond hair slicked back from a broad brow, dark, sardonic eyes, and a pencil-thin mustache.
It was a demon… in Eurotra
sh form.
Are you okay? I asked Christian. He didn't answer me, didn't even glance over to me, but he held out his hand in warning to keep me from stepping between him and the demon. I could feel the power he was exerting to keep the demon in one place, but I didn't see any signs of containment wards. I had no idea how he was controlling the demon, but decided how wasn't important.
"This is your woman," the demon said, its voice making a couple of cracks appear in the cement wall.
I knew Christian wasn't happy having me there with him in the room with what appeared to be one of the greater demons. Only the upper soldiers in a demon lord's service could cause the wall to crack with just a few words.
"She is not Joined with you. Will you give her to me?"
A hand-size patch of plaster fell off the far wall.
I wet my fingers with holy water and moved next to Christian to trace a ward over his heart, being careful to avoid blocking his gaze.
"She is nothing but flesh and bones, Dark One. You could be powerful, more powerful than you can imagine. I know what you seek. If you give her to me, I can give you more power than the lord who created you."
Two of the ceiling lights went out.
I repeated the warding process on my own chest, then squatted down to draw a circle on the tile floor using the holy water, wondering what the demon was talking about. Christian had told me his father had been the one made a Dark One, not him.
"That will do you no good," the demon told me, its words punctuated by the sound of a bottle of wine exploding. I looked up, quickly tracing a capture symbol with my still-wet fingers, an archaic spell a wizard had taught me in case I ever ran up against a succubus or any of the other minor creatures who were sometimes attracted to haunted sites. It didn't last long, but if you were quick, you could use it to keep the creature held to one place for a few vital seconds.
"It's going to take more than just holy water to hold one of its power," I told Christian. He dragged a fingernail across his wrist, stepping forward to allow the blood seeping from the scratch to drop into the circle. I held out my hand to him.
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