He could sleep with her, eat with her, care for her, and have her whenever he wanted. Nic didn’t know why he’d fought it so much in the first place. He was no longer a needy boy. He was a man, a drakon. He was powerful and rich. He could protect them from the Knights and himself from falling too deeply under her spell.
“Nic.” She threaded her fingers through his hair and pulled him closer.
The beast inside him roared with pleasure. Nic wanted to do the same. It wasn’t always easy to balance the two halves of himself. The creature worked solely on instinct and could be ruthless if not kept in check. His human side could be too sentimental and weak. But when the two sides worked in tandem, it was a thing of beauty. It felt right.
He released the sweet nub and kissed a path over to her other breast. She rocked forward, pressing her lower belly against his shaft. The fires of need rushed through him, burning out of control.
He yanked his head back, his breathing heavy. Smoke plumed from his nostrils as the natural fire within him stirred.
“I need you.” He slid his hand between them and pushed aside her underwear. She was wet and ready, but the panties were in his way. He tore them easily and tossed aside the scraps.
Constance didn’t object. No, she went up on her knees and wrapped her fingers around his shaft. He feared he might come right then and there. But she didn’t tease him. She seemed to be in just as much a hurry as he. She fit the flared head of his shaft to her opening and lowered herself.
Her channel was slick but tight. It gripped his cock and squeezed each inch as it was sucked into her wet warmth. Nothing had ever felt this good, not even the first time they’d made love.
This time, she knew what he was and wanted him anyway.
“Nic.” Her eyes were closed and her head tilted back, exposing the long line of her neck. Her hair fell around her like a curtain with the tips aflame. Her cheeks were flushed. Her skin was damp. With the sunlight coming through the window spotlighting her, she was everything he’d ever wanted and more. Never had he imagined a woman quite as perfect for him.
But she wasn’t perfect. She’d betrayed him.
He shut out that voice, unwilling to listen. Not now with her core rippling around his cock. Not when he was bathed in her moist heat. This was honest. This was real.
Her chest was moving up and down with every breath she took. Her nipples were reddish and wet where he’d licked and sucked them.
He committed it all to memory, not wanting to forget one single moment.
She slowly opened her eyes and captured him in their blue depths. He was chained as securely as he’d been among those accursed statues. Except this time, he was a willing prisoner. He didn’t want to ever escape her silken depths. He’d love to stay locked inside her forever.
But the need to move would not be denied.
He cursed under his breath and began to lift her up and down, sliding her up his shaft before lowering her again. She got into the rhythm and went with it.
“Nic.” He loved the way she said his name when she was breathless.
“Nicodemus,” he prompted.
She licked her lips, and his cock jerked. “Nicodemus.”
Pleasure gripped his balls and squeezed. He growled and reached between them, finding her clit. He brushed his finger against the tiny nub of nerves, and she cried out. He did it again, and her inner muscles gripped his cock in a stranglehold.
“Now. Come for me now.” He needed her to come first. He had to make sure she found her own pleasure before he did. It was important to him.
She rode his cock, her movements jerky and primal and real. This was no seduction, just raw need. “Yes. Yes. Yes,” she chanted.
He pressed hard against her clit, and she cried out, clenching as she climaxed. That was all he needed. The pressure in his balls exploded upward and out his shaft. He loved filling her with his essence, marking her as his. He leaned forward and nipped the flesh at the curve of her neck. She jolted and cried out again, her channel clutching around him. He hadn’t stopped coming yet, and it just kept on going.
He ran his tongue over the small red mark he’d put on her shoulder, feeling a smug satisfaction at marking her as his own. There was something primal about it that appealed to him.
She gave a final cry and fell against his chest. He cradled her, wrapping his strong arms around her. Things had irrevocably changed between them. Now that he’d had her like this, with nothing between them, no secrets, no lies, he knew he’d never be able to let her go. He needed her as much as he needed his next breath.
She nestled trustingly against him. Anguish welled up inside him, and he had to bite his lip to keep from crying out. He’d lost his ability to trust all but his brothers centuries ago. It had been stripped from him as a child. He’d lost something precious then. He’d never really had it with Constance.
He’d have to learn to live without it. But what he couldn’t live without was Constance.
When she finally raised her head, she had a sated, sleepy quality that made him smile. “Are you hungry?” He was starving.
She paused for a second and then looked away. He sensed he’d disappointed her somehow. Before he could question her, she turned back and smiled. “I could eat.”
He chose not to pursue it for now. They needed to get cleaned up, dressed, and eat. Then they needed to plan their next move. The Knights were still out there, and Nic knew they were searching for them. Abigail was still in Vegas, which made her a liability, a tool to be used against them. Until Dent and his men were dead, they’d never be safe.
Chapter Seventeen
Constance stood under the cool spray in the most spectacular shower she’d ever been in and tried not to cry. Why she’d expected Nic to say something about their lovemaking other than asking if she was hungry, she didn’t know.
And that was a lie. She did know. She loved him, and she had no idea what he felt for her beyond wanting her. That wasn’t in doubt. What was in doubt was whether there was any true feeling behind it, or if he was only taking what was offered like any red-blooded male would.
She had already washed but was lingering, not yet ready to leave the relative safety of the bathroom. Once she stepped outside, she’d have to deal with her problems. She rested her hands against the stone tiles and let the water rain down on her. He’d already given her more than she had a right to expect. He’d healed her from her injuries. He’d told her his secrets.
“You okay in there?” The thump on the door made her jump.
“I’m fine.” She wasn’t, but she would be. She had to be strong for herself and for her sister.
The door opened and Nic walked in. She quickly turned off the water and grabbed a towel, holding it in front of her. He’d obviously showered somewhere else, as his hair was damp and he was dressed in a clean pair of jeans and a shirt. His feet were bare. Why she found that so sexy, she had no idea.
His gaze narrowed as he sauntered toward her. “No need to hide.” He tugged on the towel, but she held fast. He frowned but let her keep it. He was more than strong enough to win the battle over the towel if he really wanted to.
She was feeling vulnerable and was glad to have even the meager protection.
“Your jeans are on the bed. Your panties are shredded.” She remembered he’d been in a hurry to get her out of them. “Your other clothes are ruined, so I left a shirt for you.”
“Thank you.” How polite, how stilted their conversation was now that they’d left bed.
Nic studied her for a long second and turned to leave. She breathed a sigh of relief. She needed some more alone time to gather herself. Suddenly, he swiveled around, stalked back, and grabbed her by the shoulders. He yanked her onto her toes and slammed his mouth down on hers.
Heat enveloped her, spreading from her lips all the way down to her toes. Her bones went liquid. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, and she welcomed him. No matter what the future held, she’d always have feelings for Nic. It was i
mpossible not to. From the moment he’d walked into her life, he’d changed it, and there was no going back.
The drip of the showerhead sounded like it was a million miles away. Cool air wafted over her back and legs.
Nic made a sound deep in his throat and stepped away. The towel fell to the floor, because at some point, she’d grabbed hold of his massive biceps for support. She swayed, but he kept a hold on her.
“Come to the kitchen when you’re dressed.” He spun away and stalked out, leaving her alone in the bathroom.
She brought her fingers to her lips. “What just happened?” She shuddered and then bent down to retrieve her towel. She glanced at her reflection in the large mirror over the vanity and saw her pale image staring back at her. Her eyes were wide, and her lips looked a little swollen. No wonder. The man knew how to kiss.
Constance dried off and hung the towel over the rod. Her hair was still wet, and Nic didn’t have a hair dryer lying out. She thought about going through the drawers in the bathroom, but that felt invasive. She didn’t live here. She was a temporary guest.
There was a comb sitting there, so she used that to remove the tangles. As she worked, she noticed something on her shoulder. She leaned inward and touched the red mark. It was almost faded. She touched the spot and shuddered, remembering Nic’s passion. There were scars from her wound, but they were faint. It amazed her how quickly she’d healed.
She tossed down the comb and pulled open the bathroom door. Belatedly, she checked to make sure Nic wasn’t waiting for her and was perversely disappointed when he wasn’t. “Get a grip,” she ordered herself.
She got her first good look at his bedroom. Before, she’d been injured, and then sleeping, and then making love. She went right to the bed and picked up the shirt he’d left for her. It was a lovely shade of blue and obviously one of his. The material was soft. She checked the label to find it was a linen and cotton blend. She slipped it on. It was big enough to be a dress. Heck, it was almost big enough to be a tent.
She buttoned it up and then rolled the sleeves. While she did, she looked around. The walls were natural adobe, and there wasn’t anything on them to break up the sandy color. The floor was tiled in a rich, brown tone. There was a rug in a fiery pattern of reds and oranges covering much of the tiled floor. The bed was huge and carved from wood. A long closet took up most of one wall, and a single dresser sat against another.
It was beautiful and comfortable, but barren. It made her want to cry, which was ridiculous. She slipped on her jeans and looked around for her footwear. Her sneakers were lined up just inside the door. She didn’t see her socks, so she just slipped her sneakers on over her bare feet.
Knowing he’d come and get her if she didn’t go to him, and soon, she left the room. The house wasn’t overly large, but the ceilings were high, making it appear bigger than it was. The hallway was short and led to an open room. Several sofas and chairs were arranged around a fireplace. Shelves lined the walls, giving the room a homey feel. Off to the left was a large dining table. The kitchen was just off that.
Curious to see the rest of his home, she headed toward the kitchen and the sound of something sizzling. She took a deep breath and inhaled. “Bacon.”
Nic grinned when she stepped into view. “Almost done.”
Like the rest of his home, it wasn’t overly large, but all the finishes were top quality, from the stone countertop to the large stainless steel appliances. The gas range had six burners, and he had pans on all of them. Two were filled with bacon, two had eggs, and the remaining had pancakes.
“You can cook?” She didn’t know why she was so surprised.
“I’ve had lots of time to learn, and I like to eat.” He motioned to the coffeepot. “Help yourself.”
Like a drowning victim reaching for a life preserver, she almost lunged for the pot. There were two mugs set in front of it, so she filled them both. A small glass jar of sugar sat next to them, and she helped herself. “You want yours black?” It seemed strange not to know something so basic about him, but their relationship had been anything but normal.
“Yes.” He deftly used a spatula to flip the pancakes one after another. They were golden brown and smelled delicious.
She set his mug on the counter beside him. “Anything I can do to help?”
He nodded toward a gleaming four-slice toaster. “You can start on the bread.”
She’d half expected him to tell her to go sit at the table. This was much better. She opened the loaf of multigrain bread. “How many slices do you want?”
“All of them.”
“Right.” She filled the slots and put down the lever. While they were toasting, she dug around the refrigerator and found the butter.
Since the toaster was on the counter opposite the stove, she was able to watch him. She almost wished he hadn’t bothered with a shirt. She loved to look at him, to watch the heavy play of muscles when he moved.
She swallowed back a small sound of need. Nic’s head jerked around, and his nostrils flared. The muscles in his jaw flexed. His gaze went unerringly to her breasts. They stared at each other, the moment taut with sexual tension.
Then the toast popped up and the bacon grease crackled and jumped in the pan, breaking the spell. She whirled back around and faced the counter, giving all her attention to buttering the brown bread and toasting more. When she was done, she put the platter on the table.
Her coffee was half gone, so she topped it up before wandering to the window in the dining area. The view was spectacular. It was stark but beautiful. The desert was Nic’s backyard. He hadn’t fenced in an area, hadn’t tried to tame the land. There were several benches around a fire pit and a stone patio with a small table with four chairs and a barbecue.
“Come and eat.”
She turned away from the view. Nic had placed a large bowl of eggs, a giant platter of pancakes, and another filled with bacon on the table. “Wow, that’s a lot of food.”
“I need it.” He waited until she came back and sat beside him before taking his own chair.
“Do you?” She wanted to know everything about him.
He held out the platter of pancakes and waited until she’d taken two. Then he set the platter in front of him. “Shifting takes an enormous amount of energy. Even when I don’t shift, I need more calories than a human just to function. I haven’t eaten more than a snack here and there in over a day.”
As she watched he piled bacon onto the platter. “Eat,” he told her.
Her stomach growled, reminding her it had been quite some time since she’d eaten, too. The pancakes were light and fluffy, the bacon crisp, the eggs delicious, and the toast tasty. She was finished long before he was and took the time to study him over the rim of her coffee mug.
Nic was four thousand years old. That was unbelievable, but she knew he wasn’t lying. He was a creature of myth and legend. Men were willing to kill for the opportunity to capture him.
“I’m sorry,” she blurted. He glanced at her but kept eating. “I didn’t want to betray you.”
“I knew you would.” He devoured the pancakes and started on the remaining eggs.
“You knew I would,” she slowly repeated.
He shrugged. “You barely knew me, and the Knights had your sister.”
He’d expected her to betray him, and he’d still walked into the trap. “Then why did you come? Why didn’t you walk away?” He could have left her and Abigail to fend for themselves.
He finished off the last piece of toast and sat back in his chair. His eyes had never looked so dark. “Because you belong to me.”
His claim should have thrilled her, but it made the food she’d just eaten sit like a rock in her stomach. He didn’t sound very happy about that.
“What do you mean?”
He sighed and shoved his empty plate aside. “I’ve lived a very long time. And in all those years, I’ve never met a woman like you.” His gaze was solemn. “You, Constance, are a treasure. You’r
e also my greatest weakness, a liability I really can’t afford, but one I’m afraid I can’t avoid.”
Not exactly the declaration of love she craved. But that was little more than a fantasy. This was reality. Nic wanted her, but he didn’t want to want her.
She squared her shoulders. “Breakfast was wonderful.” She wanted to reach out to him so she clasped her hands in her lap. “How do I get back to Las Vegas?” It was time for her to go home.
…
Nic cursed himself for being so bloody honest, but he couldn’t be any other way. She had to know from the beginning where they stood. He wanted her, he craved her, but because he couldn’t fully trust her, she would always be a weakness, one he’d have to guard against.
“You can’t go back.” There was no way she’d be safe with Dent and his men out there.
She shook her head. “I have to go back. Abigail is with Mrs. Karsh and still vulnerable. I should be with her.” She glanced around. “I should have called long before now. Abigail will be worried sick about me.”
This wasn’t going to be easy. “You can’t call her.” Before she could erupt, he held up his hand. “Think. They’re going to be monitoring your phone just in case you use it. They may even be monitoring your neighbor’s phone. They have no way of knowing you and Abigail aren’t together. They’ll expect me to abandon you. They might even believe I killed you myself.”
She looked so fragile sitting there in a shirt three times too big for her. But he knew she had a core of steel, especially when it came to protecting the people she loved. He was almost jealous of her sister.
She came back for you, the voice in the back of his head reminded him. That didn’t mean she loved him. That meant she’d felt guilty about betraying him and practically handing him over to the Knights.
Constance was a good person with a huge heart, but he sensed she kept a tight hold on it, not allowing too many people to get close to her. She’d known loss at a young age. Why else would she and her sister have grown up with their grandfather?
Drakon's Past Page 17
