Pure Destiny
Page 18
The water should feel cold, Sophia knew, as it submerged her feet, legs, and upper body. But she didn’t notice. She was a blazing inferno inside. Her core pulsing with need, her fangs quivering with hunger. Her skin felt too tight for her flesh. An indescribable ache throbbed and expanded within her, demanding appeasement.
“Dalair.”
His name on her lips was merely a breath, a gasp. A fervent prayer.
His eyes remained closed, his body stayed unmoving, as she drifted closer in the pool, closing the distance between them until he was only an arm’s length away.
The water was deep enough that it gently sloshed around her shoulders as she walked inexorably toward him. Until she stood immediately before him, the beaded tips of her nipples softly grazing his ribs.
That was when he finally opened his eyes, mesmerizing her with his intensely dark gaze.
She couldn’t see their color. It didn’t matter. This time, when she looked, she could see directly into him. And she felt his heart, mind and soul, fully engaged, wholly present, open their protective, armored gates to let her in.
Wordlessly, they stared into one another, simply sharing the same breath, letting their scents entwine in the crisp, autumn air around them.
For endless moments, all Sophia could hear was the thundering of her own heart. Her eyes filled with Dalair’s beloved visage. Her body frozen on the knife’s edge of restless anticipation.
“Dalair,” she uttered again.
This time to be heard. Her voice quiet but strong.
Not a wish, but a Claiming. A promise.
Though he still didn’t move, as close and as far away as he’d been moments before, his eyes flared in answer to her vow. His hands clenched briefly into fists on the mossy bank before he flexed his fingers open again.
“Be sure.”
Those were the only two words he spoke, guttural and raw.
As if they were torn unwillingly from his chest. As if he’d just carved his heart out and handed it to her, still bloody and beating, writhing in its naked vulnerability.
His weakness made her brave. They were each other’s strength. So she closed the last inch between them and pressed her body fully against his.
“Yes,” she said simply.
Irrevocably.
And wrapped her arms around his neck, pulled up against him, and took his mouth in a soul-searing kiss.
*** *** *** ***
The moment Sophia’s lips met his, the last shred of Dalair’s control snapped.
Without preamble, before his mind could register what his hands did, he grabbed hold of his female’s ass, lifted her up and thrust unerringly inside in one smooth motion beneath the water.
He swallowed her pleasure-pained gasp and desperate groan in his mouth, her teeth clattering against his when she fumbled in shock.
She’d been wet for him, he knew this. Even with the subtle scent of the pool layered on top of her arousal, his hyper senses smelled her readiness. But he was hard enough to split stone, his swollen length a hot brand that stabbed into her softness without warning, without care. He’d been too far gone to hold back.
The tips of her fangs accidentally cut his mouth when they clashed together, and he relished this small pain in sympathy for the savage way he took her. He eased his brutal grip on her buttocks slightly and flexed his hips, nudging and rotating soothingly within her silken, too-tight clasp, seeking to stoke her pleasure until it overwhelmed the pain.
Her mouth softened on his as an uncontrollable shudder racked through her body, as she gave fully into the ecstasy of simply having him within her at last. This was all it took—the way he slotted inside and wrapped around her like her missing piece, without which she could never be whole.
She lapped and sucked at his bruised lips, drinking the blood from his cut, a low moan of gratitude and joy reverberating through her throat at his taste, like a starved supplicant finally allowed to feast.
He gave her his tongue to suck as well, feeling vicariously her primal need to be filled by him, as her voracious core clenched convulsively around him below, milking him like a relentless fist, pulling him ever deeper. Deeper. As if she wanted to absorb all of him into herself and never let go.
Her legs wrapped tight around him, her fingers clawing into his hair. The tips of her hard nipples imprinted themselves into his pecs like diamonds even as the rest of her soft breasts cushioned his hardness.
He could feel her heart gallop like a stampede of wild Arabian stallions next to his own. His heart thumped and thrashed in time with hers, synchronizing their breaths, aligning every throb of their pulse, the flow of blood in their veins, until they were utterly and completely one.
Take her. Take her. Take her.
Later, he’d be gentle. Later, he’d worship and claim every inch of her body.
Right now, he took.
Shifting his hands to take total control of her body, positioning her exactly where he wanted her to receive what he gave her, he took.
Long, hard, lunging thrusts into her tight, trembling channel.
In…
So deep, the mouth of his sex kissed her womb.
Stay…
His thickness pulsing, his slit weeping. Finally home.
Grind…
With a roll of his hips and a clench of his ass, his fat cockhead rubbed against those hungry nerves inside, while his thick root stretched her swollen nether lips to breaking point, and his heavy scrotum hit her perineum just right, making her empty star tighten and quiver in jealousy. He’d fill all of her before the night was done.
Out…
The drag of his steely length through her over-sensitized, needy channel turned her entire pussy into one giant clitoris turned outside in. Every movement ignited a rash of sparks. Sparks that caught in an all-consuming wildfire. A wildfire that raged through her heated flesh, steaming her blood, burning her breath, until every molecule within her obeyed his command, delirious with the pleasure only he could give her.
Thrust…
He set a steady, merciless, barbaric rhythm, one hand gripping her ass so hard she’d be wearing his fingerprints long after they were done, the other traveling up her spine to grab a fistful of hair, pulling her head back, separating their mouths.
She wanted to protest at first. But the words died on her lips as she pierced his eyes with her own.
See me. He commanded her through their Bond.
Look inside me.
Her mouth slightly open, panting short breaths as her body jolted with each pump of his powerful hips, she had no choice but to do exactly as he ordered.
Glittering amber clashed with silver-threaded steel.
This is yours.
Thrust.
Gasp.
Every part of me. Wrong or right. Good or bad. It’s all yours.
Thrust.
Moan.
Look upon the male you Claimed. You chose.
Thrust.
Sob.
We are one now. My flesh in you. Your heart in mine.
We will never be undone.
She bared her teeth in a feral growl, her eyelids swooping down as her body shook and squeezed his in one cataclysm after another.
But she determinedly held his eyes, keeping their gazes fused. Claiming him just as fiercely as he Claimed her.
Relentlessly, he stroked into her, though her strong thighs clamped around his hips so tightly, it felt like he was breaking into her anew with each thrust.
She made him work for every inch. To plow painstakingly into her clenching core until he hit home. Then fight for each withdrawal as her inner muscles ruthlessly milked him. Just so he could do it all over again.
And again.
And again.
Until finally, she couldn’t wait any longer. She needed him inside her in all ways.
With surprising strength, she brought his mouth back to hers, fusing their lips together, pushing her tongue like a merciless marauder into the wet heat of him
, staking her claim.
Come for me, Dalair, she commanded through their Bond.
Her core convulsed so hard around him, a guttural groan of pained-pleasure was wrenched from his throat and swallowed greedily by her mouth.
Come, my love. My Mate.
My Destiny.
And so he did.
In wave after crashing wave of hot cream. Erupting endlessly inside her, filling her to overflowing. Branding every crevice within her with his essence.
Her body rejoiced by clenching around him even harder, tighter. Her spirit filled his with Sustenance, lifting him.
Removing all doubt until only strength and conviction remained.
*** *** *** ***
“Jade. Inanna.”
The Dark King very subtly arched one brow as he flicked his glance at the third visitor amidst the trio of inhumanly beautiful and powerful women.
“Pure One,” he finally acknowledged, his tone somewhat disapproving.
“The name’s Aella Alexander,” the Elite warrior said with a smirk. “It’s an honor to finally make your acquaintance, Dark King Ramses.”
She made a show of looking around the immaculate, ornate, yet not ostentatious Great Hall of the Cove, the base of the New England vampires.
“Nice,” she complimented with a soft whistle. “This is only the second time I’ve been here. Didn’t have the opportunity to appreciate it fully the first go-round.”
He ignored her and turned to the other two females.
Aella took the snub in stride. She was well aware that Ramses had no love for Pure Ones, even though his undeclared Mate was one.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of your unexpected visit, Jade?” he asked in that low, hypnotic voice, sitting upon that gigantic throne and somehow making it seem small with his big, black-clad, muscular body.
And his larger-than-life presence.
Another dangerous-looking male stood a few feet beside him. From the longish black hair, pale face, eerie green eyes and distinct resemblance to the Dark Ones’ Assassin, Ryu Takamura, Aella guessed that this was Eli Scott, or Lord Wind, as he was once known.
And too, his palpable aura of bad-assery might have given him away. The very air was still around him, as if holding its breath for his command.
“It’s time you took a stand, my friend,” the ex-vampire queen got straight to the point. “You can’t straddle the middle indefinitely.”
“But I straddle it so well,” the sexy-as-sin male returned in his husky rumble, the double entendre of his words not lost on anyone.
Especially if one had ovaries.
Aella was extremely thankful to have the most magnificent male of her own at home, because it was a forgone conclusion that she’d feel frisky when she returned after this mission.
Jade’s sensuous lips curled at the corners, seemingly enjoying the vampire king’s way with words.
It amazed Aella a little that Jade hadn’t chosen Ramses as her Consort and retained the throne. They seemed to be made for each other. Both were highly sexual, supremely confident people. Powerful in their own right, not so much because of their Gifts, but because they were natural rulers. They had a way about them that made others want to follow.
Though Aella had been First General of the Amazon warriors in her human life and knew about leadership, this was on another level altogether. Some people were simply born to it.
But, as Fate would have it, Jade abdicated her throne to Mate with a Pure One. Though she was hardly the “little woman” in her relationship with Seth, it was a far cry from being the most powerful Dark regent in modern times. Even so, Jade seemed extremely content with her new circumstances, if the cat-got-the-cream smile that often graced her lips was any indication.
Similarly, Ramses could have further solidified his rule as a new king by taking a Consort in one of the most powerful vampire queens of neighboring hives. As far as Aella knew, Mating among Dark nobles and royalty had always been about a consolidation of power. Unlike Pure Ones who could only join with their one Eternal Mate, a match made in love. Or punished by death without it.
But Ramses chose Eveline instead. A Pure One. And a librarian-fortune-teller at that.
Aella had grown rather fond of “Evie” over the past few months, during which their forced close proximity gave her a new appreciation for Eveline’s adorable quirks, wry sense of humor, understated courage and kind heart.
But still.
She never would have picked Ramses for Eveline and vice versa, especially since the Dark King was everything Eveline said she didn’t want in an ideal male.
Apparently, Fate had other plans.
“Come now, Alend,” Jade practically purred, making her startling sapphire eyes slumberous to peer at the Dark King through long, sooty lashes.
Aella was impressed. That cajoling look was melting her, never mind the male on its receiving end.
“You allow Eveline to sit beside you on the throne. You’ve shown your utmost preference for her before your Nobles. You no longer…negotiate with other female rulers. At least, not in the traditional vampire ways…”
“Should I be flattered you’ve made such a study of my dos and don’ts?” Ramses murmured.
“Civil unrest brews without your official declaration,” Jade continued, getting to the point. “The tides are building and turning against you.”
“And you think stating a position now would aid the situation rather than exacerbate it further?” Ramses snapped, no longer casual. “I have nothing to gain by forming a public Alliance with the Pure Ones and everything to lose.”
“You are wrong, Dark King,” Inanna inserted, stepping forward to address him.
That Inanna was a Dark One and used to be a member of the Chosen was probably why Ramses didn’t give her the same evil eye he gave Aella, though he joined the Hive after Inanna left it.
“Right now, we work together only as an exception to the rule. We don’t openly share information, though we try to alert one another if there are critical risks. With separate resources, we can only address part of the threat our enemies engender, never all of it and at once. If we work together, truly consolidate our strengths, we have a much better chance of defeating our nemesis—”
“Medusa is dead.”
The statement echoed with ominous finality, bouncing around the rafters in the high-domed ceiling of the throne room.
Aella held her breath.
Did he know?
If what Eveline deduced was true—that Medusa was actually his daughter by Queen Ashlu…
More importantly, did he care?
Out of a very strong sense of self-preservation and practicality, Aella was extremely glad she hadn’t been on the joint Pure-Dark mission to take down the Hydra. Just in case Ramses held a grudge against their forces for unceremoniously beheading his evil spawn.
“The Hydra is weakened—”
“You’re wrong,” Aella interjected softly, holding the male’s unnerving obsidian gaze steadily. Evil eye or no evil eye, she was here to lay out the facts.
“The Hydra is stronger than ever. Have you noticed any slowdown in Medusa’s original schemes for power and violence? Or have the chaotic, unsanctioned killings of humans by Rogue vampires increased? Your internal politics gathering like a hurricane, your enemies within and without growing bolder with each move?”
The Dark King regarded her in unreadable, silent nonchalance, but Aella knew that she had his full attention.
“You know, I’ve always listened to Evie’s theories with half an ear,” she mused, distracting everyone with her apparent non-sequitur.
“But I heard enough to recall some of her more far-fetched theories. Namely that in the End of Days there would be a King of Kings. A sovereign to unite all Kinds against a common foe.”
Jade and Inanna swiveled toward her in surprise. Guess this was the first they’d heard of this.
But Aella focused only on Ramses, watching for his minutest reaction.
/> Eveline might be a diviner of the past and future, and how they intertwined in the present, but Aella was the Pure Ones’ Strategist. It was her role to take the clues, the facts, the conjectures and put them all together to determine the best course of action.
They had to work together. It was the only way. Pure and Dark united. All of the Kinds allied.
Their nemesis had broken every rule to create abominations, ripped through the Balance with venom-tipped fangs and claws. If they continued to play within their designated sandbox, they were no better than sitting ducks waiting to be demolished by something stronger, unrestrained, and lawless.
“But forget the Prophesies for a moment,” she added quickly when Ramses’ forbidding frown threatened to cut her short.
“Think about it logically. Your Dark Nobles will bow to the strongest, yes? You can wait for them to Challenge you one by one, directly or through assassination attempts, or you can show them what true power is.”
“Think you I don’t know about true power?” the king rasped in a deceptively soft voice, even as the ground of the throne room vibrated ominously beneath their feet.
Aella fought to literally and figuratively hold her ground.
“Oh yes, you’re undoubtedly mighty, King Ramses,” she said, both impressed and alarmed by his show of strength, but kept these reactions to herself. Just barely.
Eveline had some explaining to do.
She never let on that the Dark King was an Elemental. At least, that’s what Aella supposed, given his little demonstration. Aella had never met or even heard of a telekinetic so strong. Except in oral legends passed down through the generations that were more often than not dismissed as myth.
“But you are still just one individual,” she argued. “Your Chosen, also powerful, individually and together, is just one team. What better way to demonstrate your true strength than through the collective powers of your allies? Pure, Dark, Elemental, Animal, and human. Together, our forces represent the strongest warriors amongst all Kinds. Let us help each other defeat common foes.”
He narrowed his eyes.
“What then? When the enemy is vanquished? Am I to believe you Pure Ones would ever submit to Dark rule?”