DARK ANGEL’S OBSESSION (The Children Of The Gods Paranormal Romance Series Book 14)

by I. T. Lucas

  Brundar was tempted to show her the error of her ways. One light punishment would drive the point home. Leaning closer, he whispered in her ear, “I should spank you for not taking this seriously. And for that disrespectful tone.”

  Instead of jerking away, Calypso closed her eyes and let her head fall back into his loose grip. “Oh, God. Yes. Please.”

  He nuzzled her neck. “Not shy, are you, lass? Is that the wine talking?”

  “It’s not the wine. I’m tired of waiting around for what I want.”

  Brundar had to admire her honesty. “Good for you.”

  Encouraged by his praise, she lifted her hands to his chest. He could tolerate a female’s hands on him; it was only another male’s touch that repulsed him, but that didn’t mean he was comfortable with it. Gripping her wrists in one hand, he held her hands down on her lap.

  She whimpered, her arousal rising.

  Damnation. Not taking it further than a kiss was going to strain his formidable self-control to its utmost limits.

  Could he survive just kissing her for the next hour until she sobered up?

  Or should he give her the one kiss she’d asked for and leave?

  That would be the smartest course of action. The problem was, for a change, Brundar wasn’t thinking with his head. His gut and his lust were screaming so loudly for him to take her that he could barely pay attention to what his brain was trying to tell him.

  Chapter 28: Callie

  Callie should’ve been shaking like a leaf. How the hell had she summoned the courage to proposition Brundar, the most dangerous man she’d ever met, and goad him into taking the first step?

  Was it liquid courage?

  Or was she certifiable?

  Looking for the baddest of the bad boys?

  First Shawn, and now this deadly angel of a man who made Shawn look like nothing more than a sandbox bully.

  Where Shawn was quick to anger, making as much noise as possible and breaking things while at it, Brundar’s silent control gave the impression of real and mortal danger. The analogy that came to her mind was a bulldog versus a tiger. One raged and barked loudly, the other delivered justice stealthily, swiftly, and emotionlessly.

  One was a potential criminal, the other a lawful executioner.

  The paradox was that Brundar’s leashed power didn’t scare her. Not much anyway. She had a strong feeling that if he only let her in, it would be like taking shelter in the eye of the storm. The world could rage around her, but she would be safe.

  Naturally, there was a price to pay for that security.

  She was more than willing to pay. Ceding control to the only man who could ever live up to her fantasies was no hardship at all.

  His thumb stroked the back of her neck where his large hand held her in a loose grip.

  “You’re a beautiful woman, Calypso,” he said as he closed the distance between their lips and kissed her.

  As lights exploded behind her closed lids, sizzling energy flooded her body, frying her synapses and making her limbs feel limp.

  She’d been waiting for this for so long.

  How many times had she fantasized about being held immobile and taken by a man she trusted implicitly?

  But the reality of Brundar being that man was so much better than the fantasy. For the next few minutes her choices were no longer hers, but only because she agreed to the transfer of power and was a hundred percent sure she could get it back anytime she wanted to. A contradiction, a paradox, but somehow it all made sense to her.

  His lips were firm, but gentle, and as his tongue licked at the seam of her mouth, the fingers holding her nape tightened. On a gasp, her lips parted, granting him entry. Keeping her immobile with a firm yet careful grip on her neck, his other hand holding down both of her wrists, he plundered her mouth expertly, thoroughly.

  She was being taken and loving everything about it.

  As Brundar possessed her mouth, the fire burning inside her got so hot she felt like she was melting. For a few precious moments, Callie experienced something so new, so different, that it was outside her sphere of reference. Nothing compared to this.

  When his mouth abandoned hers, she was ready to cry from disappointment, but then Brundar lifted her into his lap and closed his arms around her, cocooning her in his warmth.

  The iceman wasn’t cold at all.

  But why had he stopped?

  The hard length prodding her backside proved that he’d been just as affected.

  Callie’s experience with guys wasn’t extensive, limited to Shawn and what she heard or read about, but it was enough to know that stopping in the middle of something so hot was not what the vast majority of men would do.

  To have a willing woman they were obviously attracted to and refuse her?

  “Is it because I’m not on the pill?” she blurted. It was something Callie intended on taking care of as soon as she could.

  Brundar rested his chin on the top of her head. “No, sweetling. It’s because of what I told you before. Alcohol impairs judgment.”

  “I’m not drunk. I can prove it to you. I can touch my nose with my finger.” She tried to release one of her hands, which he had trapped between their bodies.

  His arms tightened around her. “Don’t.”

  The edge of command in his tone sent a wave of heat rushing through her.

  “Okay,” she reluctantly acquiesced.

  Were they done?

  Would he ever allow her to touch him? Just a casual touch when they were not in what he called a scene?

  A chilling thought occurred to her. What if he never did anything with a woman outside of those parameters?

  Was he one of those who demanded obedience at all times?

  Talk about a splash of ice-cold water.

  The disappointment was so deep that it almost felt like grief. Already, she was mourning the loss of him.

  Callie could never tolerate a relationship like that. No matter how amazingly sexy the guy was, or how much he’d done for her, her freedom was not something she was willing to barter for a few moments of passion. This was not how she wanted to live her life.

  Brundar’s hold on her loosened. “What’s going through your head, Calypso?” He sounded worried.

  She shook her head. For someone who appeared so stoic, he was way too perceptive. He felt her emotions changing even without observing her expressions.

  She couldn’t tell him, though. It wasn’t fair to him. This was all on her.

  She’d been the one to initiate, to push him into something he didn’t want or would only participate in under strict conditions.

  No wonder going over the rules was so important to him.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed.”

  He chuckled. “If I didn’t want to kiss you, it wouldn’t have mattered how much you pushed.”

  The compulsion to ask was too strong for her to ignore, even if the answer she was expecting would hurt like hell. “Why can’t I touch you? I understand when it’s part of a scene. But we are done, aren’t we?”

  “Yes, we are.”

  When he didn’t continue, she thought he wasn’t going to answer her, but then he sighed and put his chin on top of her head again. “I don’t like being touched. I don’t even shake hands.”

  Was he talking about his sexual partners or in general? “With no one?”

  “No one.”

  Okay, so it wasn’t about sex with him. Some kind of a phobia?

  “But you’re touching me. You offered me your hand several times.”

  He chuckled. “I have no problem with touching you. I love having my hands on you.”

  She could live with that. Maybe not forever, but in the meantime, until she helped him work out whatever issues he had with being touched.

  Listen to yourself. After one kiss you’re already planning on fixing the guy? What if he doesn’t want to be fixed?

  Relaxing in Brundar’s arms, she rested her cheek on his hard chest muscles, l
istening to the steady beat of his heart. He was so strong. Yes, he’d just revealed vulnerability, but that required strength as well. It was hard to imagine a powerful man like him having trouble with such a simple thing as a handshake.

  “You’re a bodyguard. What happens in a fight? Like in hand-to-hand combat?”

  “I’m very good with knives, swords, and guns. You name it; I mastered the use of it. No one ever gets close enough to touch me.”

  Callie shivered. She could totally imagine Brundar with a sword like some medieval knight.

  Curiosity demanded that she ask why, but compassion overpowered that need. He didn’t know her well enough to share such a personal thing with her. That being said, she could at least sate her curiosity regarding his relationship preferences.

  “Forgive me for asking,” she started and felt him tense. “What kind of a relationship are you into?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I read about the lifestyle and I know some dominants like to be in charge at all times. Are you one of those?” She held her breath as she waited for his response.

  And waited.

  The guy took his sweet time.

  “I don’t think so, no.”

  He’d sounded unsure, which was weird. He either was or wasn’t. Brundar seemed to be in his late twenties or early thirties. A guy as handsome as he probably had a lineup of ex-girlfriends. He should have some idea of what he liked in a relationship.

  “Think back. What did you like or not like about your relationships with women?”

  “I never had any.”

  That couldn’t be true. He must’ve misunderstood her meaning.

  “Your other girlfriends. Did you want to dominate them twenty-four-seven?”

  He sighed, sounding exasperated. “I never had a girlfriend. I only do hookups.”

  She looked at him. “Do you mean to tell me that all you had your entire life were fuck-buddies?”

  “That would be correct.”

  “So…” she started.

  “That’s enough, Calypso. Don’t try to fit me into a box, and forget all you’ve read about on the Internet. It doesn’t apply to me.”

  “But you told me to read—” His disapproving expression shut her up.

  It was true he’d told her that, but what she could learn from reading about others would tell her nothing about Brundar. Every person was different. The only way she would find out what made him tick, what he liked or disliked, was by getting to know him.

  The question was whether he’d ever let her get close enough.

  Chapter 29: Roni

  Two weeks and nothing.

  Roni knocked on the glass, letting Barty know he was ready to go.

  Maybe Andrew’s venom was too weak?

  The last time they’d met at the dojo, Andrew had said something about bringing another immortal male. Hopefully it wasn’t that scary Brundar guy.

  Was he even bigger than Anandur?

  Were all immortal males big?

  Sylvia was of average height, and none of her girlfriends was huge, so it made sense that the men were of average height too. Maybe Anandur was the anomaly.

  He could hope.

  Crap. He wasn’t looking for a repeat round of getting thrown to the mat and bitten. Then again, now that he knew what was coming it wasn’t as scary. The bite had stung like a son-of-a-bitch, and being overpowered so easily by Andrew had been humiliating, but the after effects hadn’t been so bad.

  Hell, if he cared to be honest it had been fucking awesome.

  A psychedelic trip.

  Roni wondered if it was what smoking pot felt like.

  From movies and books it seemed that his entire generation was doing it and he was the only one not partaking in the fun because he was a prisoner. A pampered and respected one, with a nice crib and all, but not free to do what other guys his age took for granted.

  He was beyond lucky that Andrew had agreed to help him get laid, otherwise he would have still been a virgin. And he was luckier still that Sylvia liked him enough to stick around.

  “Ready for some ass whooping, boy genius?” Barty asked as he opened the door for him.

  “Fuck you, Barty. Put your fat ass on the mat and let’s see how well you do.”

  Barty shook his head. “Touchy, touchy.” He slapped Roni’s back. “There is nothing wrong about getting your ass handed to you by someone better trained. That’s how you learn.”

  Yeah, if he was training to become a fighter that would’ve been true, but Roni was fighting a war with a different set of tools. His were much more valuable than the muscles needed for simple hand-to-hand combat.

  One day, in the not too distant future, he would be able to topple regimes without firing a single shot. Working for the government, with the best hardware in the world at his disposal, Roni’s skill had grown exponentially over the years.

  Anandur, Andrew, and their like had nothing on him.

  This was the new reality. The world belonged to geeks and nerds, not the strong of arm. The days of might making right were over.

  On the drive to the dojo, Roni distracted himself by reading a book. The old fashioned paper kind because his supervisors refused to let him use a smartphone or a tablet outside his secure glass enclosure.

  God, he couldn’t wait to be free.

  “Who’s the new guy?” Barty asked when Roni opened the door to the dojo.

  “I don’t know.”

  The new immortal they’d brought in looked less intimidating than Anandur, but not by much.

  Anandur beckoned him over. “Roni, my man, come meet Onegus. Your new sparring partner.”

  The guy cracked a smile and winked as he offered his hand. “Don’t worry, kid. I’ll go easy on you.”

  “Don’t,” Barty called from the peanut gallery.

  “Asshole.” Roni turned around and flipped him the bird.

  “Don’t mind him.” Onegus wrapped his arm around Roni’s shoulders and leaned closer. “Let’s give him a good show,” he whispered.

  Roni groaned. It might be a show for Onegus, but it sure as hell wasn’t going to be for him. “Yeah. Let’s.”

  Onegus assumed the stance and Roni mirrored it.

  “Barty, you’re not listening,” Sylvia complained.

  “I want to watch the new guy.” The handler waved for her to move.

  That was a problem.

  “Pay attention to Sylvia,” the one called Rachel said, compelling both Barty and Roni to look at Sylvia.

  Onegus snapped his fingers. “Eyes on me, kid.”

  Roni shook his head and turned to face his sparring partner. There had been something weird in both Onegus and Rachel’s voices, a sort of vibration that had an almost hypnotic quality. Was that thralling?

  “Last warning, Roni. Pay attention.” Anandur said. “Let’s start with a warm up, going through the katas you learned.”

  “Okay.”

  “Onegus, you’re on the offense.”

  The guy moved in slow motion, broadcasting his move so Roni could prepare the appropriate block. They went through several sequences until Anandur clapped his hands.

  “Okay, boys. Warm up is done.”

  Roni glanced in Barty’s direction. The handler had forgotten all about him and was giving his undivided attention to Sylvia, who was telling him about her imaginary brother who wanted to become an agent.

  The girls must’ve been thralling Barty all along for the guy not to realize that it was strange they never joined the guys for practice, or that Sylvia was spending most of her time entertaining him with stories instead of training.

  “Don’t worry about him,” Onegus said. “A bomb could detonate next to him and he wouldn’t notice.”

  Roni nodded.

  Onegus smiled again, this time flashing a pair of elongated fangs. Interesting. The warm up had been enough to spur aggression in the immortal. There was so much Roni still had to learn about these people. Just as humans, each one was an individua
l—different and unique. Onegus was nothing like Anandur, and Andrew was nothing like either one of them.

  Getting in position, he waited for Onegus to make the first move, but the guy motioned for Roni to start.

  Roni attacked, and Onegus blocked but didn’t attack back. For a few minutes, he let Roni practice his moves and then started a slow attack. Roni managed to block a few, but the guy was so strong that blocking him nearly shattered Roni’s bones. When this match was over, he would be bruised black and blue.

  “Finish it,” Roni said quietly.

  Onegus shook his head. “You have to work for it, buddy.”

  Crap. The immortal was toying with him.

  “Showing off to impress the ladies?” He taunted the guy, hoping to make him angry.

  “Always.” Onegus smiled again. The guy used that smile of his like a weapon. “But these ladies are my cousins. So no, I’m not showing off to impress them. Come on, boy. Show me what you got. You can do better than that.”

  Frustrated, Roni forgot all about the damn katas and just charged forward, yelling as he barreled into Onegus.

  He barely managed to move the guy an inch, let alone topple him. Roni’s miserly one hundred and thirty pounds were to the immortal what a fly was to a wolf.

  With a sigh, Onegus grabbed Roni as if he was going to give him a hug, picked him up and slammed him down to the mat, turning him around midair.

  The air rushed out of his lungs and his ribs hurt, but Roni didn’t stay down. Rolling sideways, he kept Onegus off him for another split second.

  The immortal didn’t pounce on him. He grabbed him like a rag doll, turned him around and slammed him back face down. A powerful hand closed over the back of his neck. “Stop squirming and make like a possum,” Onegus hissed, his hot breath bathing Roni’s neck.

  Easier said than done.

  Roni’s brain was telling him to submit and have this over with, but his instincts screamed for him to get away and avoid the mouth with those sharp fangs poised for attack, hovering an inch away from his neck.

  “Stay!” Onegus’s hand squeezed tight, cutting off Roni’s air supply.

  Roni bucked harder.