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

by I. T. Lucas

  Giving himself only a moment to catch his breath, Brundar untied Calypso and carried her to the bed, laying her down on her belly. She was a mess. The sight of her back and her ass and the back of her thighs covered with his seed brought him a sense of odd satisfaction. He hadn’t come inside her, but he’d marked her as his nonetheless.

  Where had that primitive response come from? It was nothing like he’d experienced before. Nonetheless, he wasn’t embarrassed by it. On the contrary, he felt like pounding his chest caveman style and shouting ‘mine’.

  An odd feeling, but not unpleasant.

  Calypso was changing him.

  For the better, Brundar decided.

  A caveman was a marked improvement over an iceman.

  In the bathroom, he wetted several washcloths in warm water, then went back and gently wiped the evidence of his possession of her.

  To the naked eye, she might’ve appeared clean, but his scent was all over her, warning any immortal male to stay away because she belonged to him.

  It was a nonsensical sentiment, as no immortal male would care if Brundar claimed a human as his own, but it was significant to him, as was the fact that for the first time ever he’d bitten a woman’s neck instead of the inside of her thigh.

  Chapter 49: Callie

  “Brundar.” His name was on Callie’s lips the moment she woke up.

  No longer tied to the bench, she was lying face down, tucked inside the blankets burrito style. Brundar was next to her on the bed, sitting with his back propped against several pillows, his eyes trained on her with that unwavering focus she was becoming accustomed to.

  “Here.” He lifted a water bottle off the nightstand, unscrewed the cup, and held it out for her.

  Freeing one arm from the tight bundle of blankets he’d wrapped her in, she took the bottle and lifted it to her parched lips. After the first few gulps wetted her dry throat, she wiggled out of the burrito style wrapping and sat up, holding a blanket to cover her nakedness while she drank the whole thing up.

  “Thank you.” She handed him the empty bottle. “Do you happen to have another one?”

  “I do.”

  She drank half of the second bottle before her thirst was finally sated. “Thanks.” She handed it back.

  “You’re welcome.” He reached to cup her cheek, then leaned and kissed her lips chastely. “How are you feeling?”

  A sheepish smile lifted the corners of her lips. “Like a woman who had the best orgasm of her life.” Amazing, considering that he hadn’t even been inside her. Which raised the question, why?

  Had Brundar remembered what she’d told him about not using birth control with Shawn? Or had it been what she’d told him about getting pregnant because of a defective condom?

  Brundar smiled, a real smile and not the slightest lifting of lips that barely passed as one. “I’m glad.”

  It seemed that pleasuring her into oblivion made the guy not only happy but proud. His male ego had probably inflated to the size of a zeppelin.

  “I’m sure you are. I never passed out from one before.”

  Callie had been so out of it that she hadn’t felt him cleaning her up, which he obviously had done because she didn’t feel sticky. She hadn’t heard him showering either, but it was obvious that he had. Brundar’s long hair was swept away from his face and tied at his nape, the wet ends leaving water spots on the pillows behind him. She must’ve slept for a while.

  “How long was I out?”

  “About an hour.”

  “Shit.” She lifted her other arm and glanced at her watch. “I’m late.” She slid off the bed, dragging the blanket with her.

  Brundar caught the end of it, fisting the fabric and twisting it away from her. “You’re not late. I told Franco you’re off tonight.”

  Yanking on the blanket, she turned around, the sharp movement making her head spin. “Why? I need the hours, Brundar.”

  “Because you need to rest more. He’ll give you another shift.”

  “I’m not tired.”

  He lifted a brow. “Are you steady on your feet, Calypso?”

  About to answer in the affirmative, she remembered his new rule about lying. As fun as the erotic spanking he’d given her had been, she didn’t want another one right away.

  Tomorrow? Heck, yeah.

  “No, I’m not. You’re right.” She wrapped the blanket around her, tucking one corner in. “It’s so weird. I’m tired and dizzy as if I ran a marathon when I did basically nothing.” She chuckled, lifting her fingers. “I didn’t move an inch.”

  “Come here.” He patted the spot next to him.

  She did, snuggling up close and almost purring when he wrapped his arm around her and brought her even closer. She needed the intimacy. That what had been lacking before. As hot as it was, it had been a scene, a sexual experience, a physical coming together of desires, not souls.

  Resting her head against his pectoral, Callie sighed. The only thing missing now was her touching him, but she wasn’t even going to mention it. He obviously had a problem with that, and she was in no position to ask when it would be okay for her to do so just because they’d had sex.

  Sort of.

  As far as the simple mechanics, what they had done was heavy necking. Except, they had both orgasmed, which in her opinion counted as sex.

  “Scening is intense. That’s why you’re exhausted.”

  Hmm, he might be right. “Was it for you? Exhausting, I mean?”

  “Less so. It’s always more intense for the one on the receiving end.”

  She lifted her head to look at him. “You mean the submissive?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t like the term, the same way I hate being called a Dom. People don’t fit into neat categories or same size containers, and words have power. Your sexual preferences do not define who you are. You’re not submissive, Calypso. In fact, you’re quite bossy. But you enjoy yielding sexually.”

  Lifting a finger, he rubbed it over her lower lip, awakening her desire. “If I order you to do my laundry, or pick up my stuff from the dry cleaners, it’s not going to turn you on, and you’re not going to obey. But if I order you to strip, you probably will. Do you get the difference?”

  The small touch and the desire she saw in Brundar’s eyes were playing a number on her. Her nipples tight beneath the blanket, she wanted him to kiss her, to fondle her. In the sexual haze of arousal, Callie had a feeling she would’ve agreed to do a lot more than wash his dirty clothes. She wanted to do things for him, to please him.

  Was it wrong?

  “If you ask nicely, I might do your laundry and pick up your stuff from the dry cleaners. People do nice things for each other when they care.” She’d meant to say it teasingly; instead, her words came out sounding throaty and needy.

  He tugged at the blanket, and she let it drop, her breasts exposed to his smoldering gaze.

  Cupping one, he lazily thumbed the nipple. “And I would have done the same for you. If you asked nicely.” He bent his head and flicked his tongue over her other nipple.

  “Oh, God.” Callie moaned. Crossing her legs, she clenched her core in a futile attempt to relieve the ache that had started down there.

  But all too soon Brundar sat up, taking his talented tongue and fingers away. “At this rate, we will never get out of here. Get dressed. I’m taking you home.”

  Bossy man, ordering me around.

  Disappointed, Callie felt like reminding him of his little speech from before. It wasn’t that she didn’t agree they should leave the room. Franco probably needed it for his members, and whoever did the cleaning needed time to replace the bedding and the towels and wipe all the surfaces clean. But a different phrasing would have made all the difference, turning an order into a request.

  Perhaps, though, such subtleties were lost on Brundar. He was a military man, used to issuing and taking commands. For him, it might have been the only way he knew how to communicate.

  She knew so little about h
im, especially about his past. Had he been in the service? And if yes, doing what? A Marine? A navy SEAL? A demanding physical fitness trainer?

  Their shared experience didn’t give her the right to question his aversion to being touched, but it did allow for at least a few questions as long as they weren’t overly intrusive.

  Once they got back to her place, she was going to lull him with a good meal and start a carefully worded interrogation.

  Chapter 50: Brundar

  “Can you stop by the supermarket?” Calypso asked when Brundar backed out from the club’s parking lot.

  “Sure.” He stifled a smile.

  The girl was more resilient than he’d given her credit for. He had underestimated her and her resolve. Apparently, when Calypso set her eyes on a goal, nothing and no one was going to deter her from it. Not even him.

  She’d wanted him, and she’d had him.

  Case closed.

  He’d been mistaken thinking he could scare her off by showing her a few spanking implements or letting her read the long list of kinks Franco allowed in his club. It was by no means exhaustive, but it should’ve been enough to send a newbie with as mellow tastes as hers running.

  Not Calypso.

  She’d cornered him into doing exactly what she’d wanted. Obviously, he hadn’t been a helpless victim, nothing would have happened if his restraint had held, but he wanted her too much to keep fighting on both fronts.

  “I’ll be just a moment.” Calypso opened the door as soon as he parked next to the small neighborhood supermarket.

  “I’ll come with you.”

  “No, it’s okay. I know what I need. Give me three minutes.”

  “If you’re not out in five, I’m coming in.”

  She rolled her eyes and closed the door.

  Why did he have the sense she was plotting something? But what the hell could it be that required a trip to the supermarket?

  It wasn’t as if the place had a lingerie section, and she was planning the next step in her seduction by getting herself something sexy to wear. But even if it weren’t the stupidest idea that had ever crossed his mind, and she really was going to buy sexy lingerie, he could have told her that she didn’t need anything special to entice him.

  Calypso could’ve been wearing a potato sack, and he would’ve found her irresistible.

  Especially if it was one of those made from a thin plastic mesh…

  Her small nipples peeking through the weave…

  Fates, he was a goner.

  The iceman had melted. The tin man had gotten a heart, or as was the case, a hard-on. Brundar cursed under his breath and adjusted himself in a failed attempt to relieve the pressure. What was the last part? Something about a lion and courage?

  As promised, the passenger door opened a few minutes later, and Calypso slid inside holding a brown paper bag.

  With his acute sense of smell, Brundar didn’t need to ask her what she’d gotten. There were steaks in that bag, rib-eye, his favorite. By the heft of it, though, there was more in the bag, but he couldn’t smell anything other than the meat. Maybe she’d bought several pounds of it and was planning a block party to celebrate her victory.

  “What’s the smirk for?” Calypso asked.

  He shook his head. “Nothing I care to share.”

  With a humph, she crossed her arms over her chest and murmured, “Nothing new there.”

  Her building was only several hundred yards away from the store, and a few moments later Brundar was sitting at her counter, watching Calypso unpack her groceries.

  “I hope you’re hungry. I got four steaks. Three of them are for you.”

  “Feeding me to ensure I have my strength for later?” He lifted a brow.

  Calypso stopped and looked up at him, amusement making her green eyes sparkle. “Brundar, did you just make a joke? Are you okay?”

  He hadn’t. He’d been dead serious, questioning her motives for treating him to another meal in the same day. But if it made her happy, he could play along.

  Maybe. He was rusty, but once upon a time he’d had a sense of humor. “It’s a legitimate question. I have a feisty, lustful redhead cooking me dinner. Can you blame me for being suspicious?”

  A soft scent of guilt wafted from her. Had he been right?

  “I’m not a redhead.”

  An evasive answer if he’d ever heard one. “What do you call the color of your hair? Gold?”

  “Light brown with red undertones.” She unwrapped the steaks, spreading them over a cutting board.

  “That’s too complicated for me.”

  Calypso salted and peppered the meat, then pulled out a head of lettuce and a few tomatoes from the fridge.

  “I like cooking for you. You enjoy everything I make, and it’s a pleasure to watch you eat. But the truth is that I had an ulterior motive for splurging on steaks.”

  With a fake frown, Brundar crossed his arms over his chest. “I knew it.” If the woman wanted to fortify his energy level so he could pleasure her again, there was nothing wrong with that. But he was glad she felt the need to be honest with him.

  “I know so little about you.” She dropped the steaks on a large skillet.

  “I know that you’re of Scottish descent, but I don’t know if you were born there or here. I know you have a brother you live with, a cousin who is a superb attorney and another one who is some big shot businessman who has a butler, but nothing about your parents or other family.” She rinsed the cutting board, the lettuce and tomatoes, and then started chopping the vegetables for a salad.

  “I know that you work as a bodyguard, but I also know that you have a lot of connections in law enforcement and other government agencies, which leads me to believe that you’re much more than a simple bodyguard.” She flipped the steaks to the other side.

  The woman had been listening to every little morsel of information he’d told her. Should he feel flattered?

  “I thought if I fed you, you'd be more inclined to talk.”

  Brundar didn’t like where this was going. He would either have to lie or tell her half-truths. He pinned her with a hard stare. “Did it work on Shawn?”

  Calypso blushed. “I knew all there was to know about him. I knew his parents. I knew where he went to school. I knew the people he worked with. There was no reason for me to butter him up for information.”

  Brundar hated that she had anything positive to say about the sick bastard. “What about other things? Did you cook for him so he wouldn’t throw tantrums and scare you?” He was hurting her with those questions, and he didn’t even know why he was doing it. Was he trying to push her away again?

  Calypso wiped her hands with a kitchen towel and then threw it on the counter. “So what if I did? You have a problem with how I survived a marriage that was becoming more and more hellish? Are you going to lecture me about it?” Her voice quivered with unshed tears, tearing him apart.

  Brundar pushed the stool back, strode to the other side of the counter, and pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry. You don’t deserve me treating you like that.”

  Forgetting she wasn’t supposed to touch him, Calypso pounded her fist on his chest, not hard, her aim wasn’t to hurt, just to make a point. “You’re damn right I don’t deserve that. Not from Shawn, not from you, and not from anyone else. I don’t care if talking about yourself scares the shit out of you. If you can’t treat me with respect and kindness, you’d better leave now.”

  She couldn’t have hurt him more if she’d plunged a serrated blade into his black heart.

  “You’re right. I’d better go.” He released her.

  The best thing he could do for Calypso was to walk out the door and never come back.

  Chapter 51: Callie

  What?

  He thought he was leaving?

  The coward.

  Callie fisted Brundar’s T-shirt and pulled him back. “I can’t believe you, Brundar. You’re not going anywhere. You’re going to apologize and promise to b
e nice and mean it. Then you’re going to eat the dinner I cooked for you, tell me about yourself as much or as little as you want, and then you’re going to make love to me. And I mean the real thing. Is that clear? Sir?”

  Wow. What had gotten into her?

  Callie had never talked like that to anyone. Ever. Not to her father, not to Shawn, not to her friends, and not even to any of the pissy customers who’d been rude to her. She was too polite, too reserved to raise her voice and make demands.

  Why the hell had she goaded Brundar?

  But the ease with which he was willing to give up on her had made her so angry that her head had started pounding from the stress of it.

  The thing was, she wanted this strange, broken man with a passion and an obsessive need that was terrifying in its intensity. There was nothing she wouldn’t do to make him hers, but it was going to be on her terms. She would give him her body, her heart, and her soul, but only if he gave the same back.

  Deep in her gut she knew they belonged together, and she was going to do everything in her power to make that happen.

  In the end, he might still walk away, but not before she’d given it her best. Callie wasn’t going to spend the rest of her life wondering what if she’d tried harder. If he walked, it would hurt like hell, but at least she’d know it was not for lack of effort on her part.

  Brundar was doing a great impression of a pillar of salt, frozen in place with his eyes peeled wide and mouth gaping. Apparently, no one had ever spoken to him like that before.

  Calypso reached behind her and turned the burner off, then snapped her fingers in front of Brundar’s face. “Did I shock you? Do you need smelling salts?”

  A moment later his palm landed on her butt with a loud smack. “Watch it, young lady. That wasn’t very respectful of you.” He wrapped his arms around her and dipped his head to look into her eyes. “I apologize. I promise no more snide remarks or questions. I’m going to eat the dinner you cooked for me, and then I’m going to make love to you until you pass out again. Is that clear? Ma’am?”