“Thank you,” Rysten said in a hoarse whisper.
“For what?” I folded my arms over my chest, drawing on that core of strength that fueled both me and the beast. She sat back, looking on with approval at how I chose to handle him.
“Not berating me in the middle of a crowd. Not tossing my ass aside when I deserved it. Not...” He swallowed and the well of hurt coming from him pulsed like a throbbing injury. “…Not dismissing me right now.”
I nodded, a little bit of the tension slipping from my shoulders. Angry as I was, I wouldn’t kick him when he was already down.
“Let’s go find these pools Julian was telling me about,” I said, motioning for him to lead the way. He stepped ahead of me and around the love nest that had bile coming up the back of my throat. I screwed my eyes ahead and tried not to think about who Satan did or did not fuck on the pillows I was supposed to sleep on. Most kids thought the idea of their parents having sex was gross, but both parents being deceased put a true somber spin on it.
We kept walking, the silence between us somehow both easier and harder to accept. The farther we went from those pillows, the easier my breathing grew, but the bleakness leaking from Rysten was stifling when I had fewer emotions surrounding me to counteract it.
One thing I never told anyone was how much other’s emotions always bled into me, making me love them or hate them before a word left their mouth. In Moira’s case it was easy— she was easy—both her and Bandit in terms of being around them. They both were what I liked to call emotionally safe. I knew what to expect from them and it rarely overran my own sense of self. But with the Horsemen, I was only really coming to realize how deep each of their own emotional pools reached. I’d always considered Rysten the easy one because we could sit and watch Netflix while drinking tea on my old faded couch. He indulged me in dates and food while letting me have the emotional distance I physically couldn’t keep with the others.
Rysten was supposed to be easy, and maybe that was on me for not seeing past the shields and the masks and the many layers of him. Maybe he held off this part of himself because I wasn’t ready for it, or maybe he simply needed time before showing me.
Because in that moment, Rysten wasn’t easy. He was anything but. And being so close— yet, so far away—was killing me. But I respected myself too much to give even an inch until we spoke.
“I’m sorry I let her kiss me,” he said, and it was hardly a breath.
“Then why did you?” I replied, both aware of what Allistair told me about Iona and their past and wanting to let Rysten explain it for himself.
“I was in shock. And I know that sounds like a terrible excuse, but I hadn’t seen Iona in over three thousand years because I thought she was dead. Then she was standing before me, looking like not a day’s gone by. I—” He broke off, his hand curling into a fist that he put to his mouth. “I didn’t know what to do or say or how I was supposed to respond—and because of that, I disrespected you by letting her kiss me like we were something that we weren’t.”
I let out a heavy sigh, searching for the words that would help us both.
“Before I comment about that kiss, I need you to know something.” I paused, wanting to look at the ceiling, the walls, the floor—really anything except him. But in the same way he owed me an explanation, I owed him my attention. “Whatever you did before me, that’s okay. You are thousands of years old, and I’m only twenty-three. I have a past at twenty-three and while the beast is a jealous entity by nature, it would be naïve and unfair for me to expect that nothing ever happened with anyone.” He blinked in surprise, the glazed sheen I saw there slowly leaving. “I don’t care what kind of relationship you and Iona had. You’re with me now, and what you do now is what matters to me. Not who or what you were then. Alright?”
His lips parted, and he stared at me, the flicker of hope in him growing.
“I never loved her,” he blurted out. The beast preened at that. Inside me a warm fuzzy feeling spread before cooling rapidly. There was the L-word again. It seemed to be popping up all over the place now that we were in Hell, and I wasn’t sure I was ready to face the confession I suspected was coming next. “Not like I lo—” I lifted a single finger to his lips, keeping those words safe between them.
“It’s okay. I’m not just saying that.” I paused at the flash of hurt that went through him. No one told me how much more difficult my simpler gifts would be with four partners. The Horsemen experienced emotions on a spectrum that human boys I’d been with didn’t seem capable of. I found it incredibly attractive, but it also scared me.
I had everything to lose in this moment, including those words—which is why I couldn’t have them. Not yet.
“You stopped me,” he murmured against my finger.
I nodded. “For now.” Licking my lips, I pressed them together and then continued. “I don’t want to remember here and now, with her between us, as the moment you first told me that. I want it to be without pressure or the trials to come looming over us. I want to look back in another thousand years and have it been a moment to remember. Can you give that to me?” I asked him, a subtle purr entering my voice. Inwardly I lifted an eyebrow at the beast and she shrugged flippantly. When had she ever given a shit what I thought?
“I can,” he said in slight growl.
The truth of his words resonated in me, and I didn’t need Moira’s gift to know that he meant it.
“Good. I’m not your owner or your keeper. We’re in a partnership, and just like you trust me—I trust you—and that includes making it clear to other females who you’re with.” My tone wasn’t demanding, but there was no room for negotiations or protest. “If you’re going to be with me, then you’re with me and that’s it. If you wouldn’t like seeing another male do it to me, don’t let someone else do it with you. Understand?”
He nodded slowly, not out of hesitation, but the growing desire inside. Where the empty hole of pain and misery consumed him, that bitterness fueled an underlying need for me. A need to feel something as bright as that blossoming hope and burning fire.
He’d given me a piece of his darkness in his brand and I found it comforting. Maybe he could find peace in my fire.
Rysten lifted his hand to my face, slowly pushing my hair back so he could curl his fingers around my jaw possessively. “You’re the only one I want, Ruby. You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted and seeing you here, something just feels so...right. Like it was meant to be. I don’t believe in fate or destiny, because I knew your old man. At the end of the day, he was just a man. But you”—he swallowed hard but didn’t look away—“you’re different, Ruby. Special. And I don’t mean because of the brands you wear or the power you hold. You’re like fire, and you’re going to light up this entire world.” A blush crept up my cheeks in the low light of the cave, but with any luck I didn’t look like a blueberry. “I’ll protect the brand I put on your skin with every breath I have, from now until the very end.”
Beneath the warm skin of his palm the brand pulsed with a dark magic that filled me with a very different kind of burning. Desire thickened the air with a headiness that had me swaying for reasons other than exhaustion.
I pulled away abruptly and took a few steps deeper into the cave, flashing him a coy smile over my shoulder. “Are you joining me or standing there waiting for an invitation?”
A smile with just a hint of darkness crept up on his lips, making my heart clench in my chest. I turned back and continued deeper into the cave without waiting. He would follow. Just as he followed me into Pandora’s box, and through New Orleans, and even straight to the throne.
A trickling sound pulled my attention to the four-foot gap between one rock and the next, a faint blue light shimmered within. I stepped through the gap and stood two feet from the edge of the first body of water. It was no bigger than a hot tub and heavy steam floated like fog above its surface. Multiple pools in various sizes surrounded the first, staggering in levels and overflowing from o
ne to the next. Overhead a rocky shelf acted as a waterfall that rained down a heavier stream of glowing liquid into the highest pool.
I grasped the edge of my shirt, feeling eyes on my back. With a quick yank outward, the buttons popped and the flannel fell open. I let it slip off my shoulders, falling to my feet in a pile of dirty fabric and torn threads. Fingers ghosted my back, silently asking permission. I swept my hair over one shoulder and glanced back at Rysten, lifting a single eyebrow. Daring him.
He undid my bra in a single motion and it fell to the ground as a slight groan escaped his lips. He wrapped his arms around me from behind, coarse hands trailing up and down my naked sides, squeezing the flesh at my hips as he pulled me flush against him.
I ground my ass back into his erection, feeling the thickness as he ground into me in return.
“Too many clothes,” he whispered around my neck. Lips trailed down the column of my throat, triggering an adrenaline rush like a hit of ecstasy straight to my bloodstream.
“Take my jeans off me,” I said softly.
His cock twitched before he pulled away, following my command without even a flicker of hesitation. Sometimes I wanted someone else to take the reins—to let go and feel the release of power— and sometimes I wanted to dominate—to give the orders and feel the power I held over them. Regardless, I was always in control. With my four mates that was possible. They were comfortable with sharing and with each of them I took on a different role that suited our relationship.
With Rysten, our lives were complicated and messy, but our sex didn’t have to be. Neither of us were shy without clothes on, and in my transition, I’d learned every inch of him. I looked forward to exploring it again and again.
I turned around to make it easier for him to undress me and was greeted by the sight of Rysten on his knees. He undid the laces on both of my boots, taking the time to take off my shoes, then my socks, before gliding his hands over my pants. I loved the way he made every act something both sensual and caring.
I reached for his hair, running both my hands through his honey-blonde strands without reservation. He groaned again, resting both his own hands at my hips while I pulled hard enough on his hair to force his head back.
“How does it feel when I touch you?” I whispered. I was well aware that the touch of a fully transitioned succubus was like an aphrodisiac, and while the Horsemen had greater self-control than most...I was their equal and they weren’t unaffected.
“Like Heaven,” he bit out as I dug my nails into his scalp. “Like Hell,” he amended, drawing a chuckle from me. I eased my grip, letting his head fall forward. He looked up at me with a devilish glint in his eyes that set my blood to a boil.
“Undo my jeans,” I whispered. Biting into the plump flesh of my bottom lip as his fingers skimmed the sensitive skin around the edge of the fabric, popping the button so that it echoed in the cave. Our breathing was hard and heavy, and he hadn’t even really touched me yet.
“Lower the zipper,” I ground out as his breath fanned over my skin, driving me crazy. He took an agonizingly long time to follow my command, the tips of his fingers running over my thin panties while he did so.
“Now hook your thumbs in the sides of my jeans”—I sucked in a tight breath at the way his nails skimmed straight down my skin—“like that,” I groaned.
He looked up at me with an amused smile that said far more than words. While he followed every instruction without refute, it was very much his choice—just the same as I followed Allistair and Julian in the bedroom. The soft scrape of his nails kept me grounded in the moment, here with him and only him.
“And now?” he asked, knowing damn well what his slight touches did to me.
“Take them off.”
Rysten had a way of making tenderness sexy. He didn’t dive in for the kill or hurriedly rip my clothes off me. He savored me. Slowly, achingly slow, he peeled my jeans and underwear down my legs. Lifting one foot at a time, he placed a gentle kiss on each of my toes, pulling the rough material off me entirely until I stood there naked while he was clothed.
I dropped my hands from his hair to either side of his face, guiding it upward as I leaned down and placed a brazen kiss on his lips, purposely cutting my tongue on his fang.
Rysten took a stuttered breath as the taste of my blood coated both our lips.
When I pulled away, his eyes dilated locking onto the smear of blue. I’d noticed his fascination with my blood over the months, though he never said a word. Now was as great a time as ever to see if my shade had a secret fetish he’d kept from me. Given his reaction and the rumors about blood and sex, I was more than a little curious to see how far I could push before he tried to bite me.
Rysten watched as I walked around the side of the water and slipped one of my feet in, letting out a content sigh. I sat down on the edge of the pool, letting the rocky surface bite into the flesh of my ass as I placed both legs in.
“Do you like this?” I asked him, our eyes locking from across the water. “Or this?” I asked with a husky tenor as I opened my legs wide for him to see just how wet I was. Rysten swallowed, rocking forward as his eyes traveled the length of my body. I dipped my hand in the water and left a trickle of liquid as I ran it up my thigh, two of my fingers dipping down to rub myself. His eyes flashed, the veins darkening to black like they did when strong emotions were at play. “That’s what you like, isn’t it?” I willed the words from his mouth.
“Yes,” he answered and no more. I pinched my clit between two fingers and pulled, drawing a low moan from him.
“Undress for me,” I commanded. My fingers stayed, stroking the wetness between my legs while he whipped his shirt off and undid his own shoes. I was writhing against my hand by the time he pulled his jeans and boxers off, standing naked and glorious before me.
He didn’t take a single step towards me. He was waiting for me to tell him to.
I smiled knowingly and pointed towards him with the same hand I had just been using to pleasure myself. Crooking two fingers, I breathed, “Come.” He slipped into the water before me with far more grace than I possessed. His feet touched the bottom, the water resting just above his waist, completely transparent.
Only when he stood before me, between my legs but still no contact, did I find the physical distance unbearable. “Touch me.”
It was all he needed to hear.
Rysten reached forward, cupping my face in both his hands and then he kissed me. Licking and sucking and biting my lips, he slipped his tongue in my mouth and tasted me. I moaned into him, my hips jumping forward, closer to the edge of the pool so the I could wrap my legs around his waist.
“How’d you know?” he said against my lips.
“Know what?” I asked, the question punctuated with a moan as his fangs scraped over my bottom lip.
“Blood. How did you know I’d be into the blood?” He left my mouth, trailing his lips over my jaws and down my neck leaving tiny nibbling bites, although nothing like the bites I felt like he wanted to give.
“First time,” I breathed as his hands wrapped around my hips, lifting me clean off the edge to place me as close as I could possibly get to him, the tip of his cock brushing over the wet opening between my thighs. Close, but not close enough.
“Explain,” he demanded, biting a little harder at my collarbone. I gasped and he pulled back, his eyes wide. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Shhh,” I whispered, putting a finger to his lips. “The first time we kissed you cut my lip and licked the blood away. It didn’t take a genius to figure out you might have a thing for it.” I gave him a smile and tilted my head.
“I don’t like hurting you, though.” A very pained look came over him and I wrapped my arms around his neck, trying to pull him closer again. He didn’t budge.
“You’re not hurting me,” I sighed. “And even if you were, I wouldn’t mind it. I like pain, Rysten. I like biting and scratching—but I love having it done to me.”
His frown
fell away, but he was still hesitant when he leaned back in. I ran my fingers through his hair, letting my nails bite into the skin at the base of his neck.
“I’m not my brother,” he growled.
“I don’t want your brother right now. I want you,” I growled back. “I want you to show me how good this can feel without the transition coloring what’s between us,” I whispered, slightly less aggressive.
He placed his lips to my throat in a gentle kiss. “You promise to tell me if it hurts?”
Out of all my lovers, Rysten had the most will power when it came to me, but like he said himself, at the end of the day he was just a man—powerful though he may be. A man I could bring to his knees and savor all the same.
“I promise,” I whispered back, loving the pressure of his wet fingers gripping my ass as he moved us through the water. My back hit an uneven edge and one of his hands came around to rub up and down my slit. I arched my back off the rocky edge, throwing my head back in abandon as two fingers entered me and started moving in and out. His thumb pressed against my clit making me squirm, and his other hand roughly gripped my backside.
“I’ve wanted to do this ever since that night I accidentally tasted you,” he whispered against me. A hazy blanket of lust came over me as his teeth tested that tender bit of flesh at the crook of my throat. I pressed closer and his teeth came down hard, breaking the skin as he bit me. The pain, if I could even call it that, was fleeting as my orgasm ripped through me. His fingers twisted inside my seeping flesh and curled to hit my G-spot, while his lips—warm on my neck—drank all that I gave.
Just as I drank all that he gave. Kama gathered on his pores and stirred in the air around us like fallen snow. I breathed it in, reveling in the power this gave me. He gave me.
“I want to be inside you,” he groaned. Not quite a question, but still seeking permission.
Brimstone Nightmares (Queen of the Damned Book 4) Page 10