by Tina Folsom
Zoltan walked up to Enya and put his arms around her, pressing his front to her back, her ass fitting perfectly against his groin. He slid a hand over her stomach down to her pussy, still remembering vividly how it felt when her interior muscles had gripped him during her orgasm. Enya didn’t stop his possessive movement. Instead, she pressed against him, arching her back. He couldn’t resist sliding his other hand to her breast, squeezing it, first lightly, then firmer.
He bent his head to hers. “You’ve exceeded all my expectations.” He pressed a kiss to her neck. “No woman has ever allowed me to take her like that.”
Enya put her hand over the one that still cupped her pussy. “I didn’t know hu—uh, men like you existed.”
Human, she’d wanted to say, he realized. Good; he hadn’t aroused any suspicions in her. His cover was still firmly in place.
“You’re a rare breed, Enya. So full of passion.” He rubbed the heel of his hand against her mound. “Without inhibitions.” He kissed the skin below her earlobe. “I’m glad you decided to call me.”
“So am I.” She turned her head to look at him. “I hope I didn’t spoil your homemade dinner by attacking you like this. I hope it’s still edible.”
Apparently his kitchen looked sufficiently messy for her to believe that he’d actually prepared the dinner himself. He chuckled. “No worries.”
“You went through so much trouble.”
He sighed. “Enya…”
“What?”
“I have to confess something. I lied to you.”
Twisting out of his hold, she spun around and stared at him. Her eyes shot suspicion and disappointment in equal measure.
He’d expected her reaction. It was all going according to plan. By confessing one small lie and playing a man with scruples, Enya would never suspect that he was keeping a much bigger secret.
“I didn’t cook the meal.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Fact is, I can’t cook to save my life. I ordered it from a restaurant. I wanted to impress you. I’m sorry.”
Enya’s chin dropped. A breath of air rushed from her mouth, and then she started laughing. “Oh my God. That’s your lie? That you can’t cook? Join the club! I even manage to burn water.”
Zoltan grinned. “So you’re not mad?” Bingo! She now believed he was an honest man, one who didn’t even want to lie about an inconsequential thing.
She took a step toward him and put her hands on his chest. “No. I’m not mad. But why didn’t you just take me out to a restaurant? That would have been enough.”
He chuckled. “Sure, but I wanted to make sure that you’d come to my condo, where we could be alone.”
Her eyelashes swung up, and her blue eyes were full of mischief. “So you planned all this, greeting me at the door with just a towel, still dripping from your shower.”
“Well, if I may point out, you did arrive a half-hour early, so it’s technically not my fault.” Zoltan pulled her hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “Though I have to admit, it couldn’t have worked out more perfectly if I’d planned it.”
Which he had. He’d timed it so that she’d seen him masturbate in the shower. It had had the desired effect and catapulted Enya directly into his arms. Now all he had to do was to pull her deeper into his net, first tying her to him with his sexual prowess—which she clearly responded to—then plying her with promises of love and devotion, until she trusted him and shared her true identity and the location of her compound with him. And once he was inside, he could finally execute his plan. Everything was running smoothly, like a well-oiled machine.
A dull ache suddenly crept up from the top of his spine into the back of his skull. The momentary pain made him squeeze his eyes shut and suck in a breath. Fuck! Not now! He didn’t need one of his crippling migraine attacks right now.
“Eric?”
He opened his eyes and focused. But he couldn’t think straight. Who was Eric?
“Eric,” Enya said again, and cupped his cheeks with her warm palms. The soothing touch made him temporarily forget about the pain. “Are you all right?”
He forced himself to smile. “Yes, I’m fine. Just a bit of a headache. Nothing to worry about. I probably just need to eat something.” He motioned toward the kitchen. “Shall we have dinner?”
“Are you sure you’re okay? How about an aspirin?”
He shook his head. He’d tried every conceivable drug—legal and illegal—and nothing had ever helped. “No, no. It’ll go away.”
Enya pulled his head to her and tenderly pressed her lips to his. Oddly, her kiss seemed to push the migraine back down to where it had come from. He responded to her kiss, swiping his tongue along the seam of her lips until she parted them and granted him access. Suddenly, the pain was forgotten and their tongues danced, mated. Reluctantly, he severed the kiss.
“Mmm. That helped. Thank you.” He pulled her hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss into her palm.
A few minutes later, they sat down at the dining table and began to eat. The sun had set while Enya had given him the most incredible blow job he’d ever had. Candles on the dining table and soft music from the sound system contributed to the romantic ambiance he’d created to make her welcome.
That Enya wouldn’t need any romancing to get her into bed, he’d gathered from their first encounter. But it wasn’t simply about getting her into bed; it was about making her feel special. So special that she would fall for him and trust him. Fucking wasn’t the problem. They had plenty of chemistry when it came to that—more than he’d expected. Now it was time to romance her and to play the man a woman like her needed: strong and demanding, yet totally devoted to her and fulfilling her every wish. In other words: pussy-whipped. The strong and demanding part came naturally. The rest he could fake. The prize was worth it: the annihilation of the Stealth Guardians, and making Enya his personal sex slave, something he’d dreamed of from the day he’d first laid eyes on her.
“I needed this after the week I had,” Enya said after taking a sip from her wine.
Seeing an opening to get her to talk about herself and hopefully the Stealth Guardians, Zoltan asked, “Trouble at work?”
She gave a one-shouldered shrug. “I wouldn’t call it trouble.” She seemed reluctant to elaborate.
“Well, stress might not look like trouble, but it’s all the same. I should know. Some weeks I barely have time to eat. Hey, but I knew what I was in for when I went into business for myself.”
He’d not only taken Eric Vaughn’s condo, but also his life, then researched the real Eric’s backstory to make sure he kept as close as possible to the truth, while wiping out as much of the man’s electronic footprint as possible, erasing records that could lead somebody to believe Zoltan wasn’t who he pretended to be. He knew that Enya would do a background check on him eventually, if she hadn’t done so already. “Sometimes the workload can get overwhelming.”
“It’s not that. In fact, it’s been quiet the last week. Just like the week before.”
“Well, that’s good, isn’t it?”
“Not really. I get nervous when nothing is happening.”
“Hmm.” Had Enya noticed that he’d pulled demons off Baltimore so that they didn’t get in the way of his plan? “You didn’t mention what sector you’re working in”—he raised his hands—“and I’m not gonna ask now, but could it just be seasonal and that’s why it’s quiet right now? I mean, in my field, it gets frantic just before the year-end, and then there’s a bit of a lull.”
She cast him a hesitant look, as if she was assessing how much to tell him. Zoltan shoved a forkful of food into his mouth so he didn’t appear too eager for her answer.
“I work in security,” she said. “There’s never a quiet time in my business. That’s why I’m worried. It feels like the calm before the storm.”
This wasn’t good. Maybe he should send a few demons to Baltimore, sacrifice a few pawns to alleviate Enya’s suspicions that something bigger was brewing.
“Have you talked to your boss?” he asked.
“That’s just it. I brought it up with my superiors, and they don’t seem to be too concerned.”
He shrugged. “Then maybe it’s nothing.” He lifted his glass. “It would mean you can spend more time with me.”
She clinked her glass to his. “When you say spend time, did you mean…” She motioned to the living room, where only minutes earlier they’d fucked like rabbits.
“That’s a start. But sex isn’t all I’m after. I enjoy your company.”
Enya smiled and drank from her glass, then ate a bite from her plate. “By the way, this is delicious.”
“Thank you.” He winked at her. “I picked it up myself.”
Enya’s eyes sparkled with humor. She looked even younger when she smiled, something she didn’t do much when she was in the company of the other Stealth Guardians and fighting his demons. Tonight she was different, more relaxed. Was it the sex that had softened her? Or the fact that there was no audience? Nobody who could judge her?
“Do you do that a lot, getting food from a restaurant and pretending you cooked it?”
He finished chewing. “Why don’t you ask what you really want to ask?”
“Which would be?”
“Whether there are a lot of women in my life.”
To his surprise, Enya blushed at that and focused her eyes on her plate. “That’s really none of my business. I was just curious whether that’s something men do these days to impress women.”
Enya was cute when she was lying. “I don’t know if that’s what men do. It was my first try.” Zoltan waited until she lifted her head again and met his gaze. “And clearly I’m not very good at hiding the truth from you.”
She chuckled softly. “Maybe that’s a good thing. No woman likes to be lied to.”
“And I don’t like to lie to you. You deserve better.”
“Do I?”
Before he could answer, a bolt of pain shot through his head. He dropped his utensils on the plate and gripped the edge of the table for support. But another wave of pain hit him out of nowhere, jolting through his body. “Sorry, Enya, I have to…”
He shot up from his chair, intent on fleeing, on leaving the room so she wouldn’t witness his debilitating condition, his weakness.
“Eric! What’s wrong?”
He pressed his hands to his temples and tried to move, tried to walk, but his legs didn’t cooperate. He stumbled over his own feet. If only he could make it to the sofa. But another wave of searing pain nearly paralyzed him. His knees buckled.
All of a sudden, he felt Enya’s arms around him, supporting him, guiding him. “I’ve got you. Let’s get you to the couch.” She steered him to the sofa and lowered him with an ease that no human woman could have managed with a man his size. “Just lie back. Is it the headache again?”
He couldn’t open his eyes. “Migraine.”
Enya helped him stretch out and sat down on the edge next to his hip. “Do you have meds for it? Shall I get them? In the bathroom?”
“No.”
“In the bedroom, then?” She squeezed his hand, and he held on to it for dear life.
“No. No meds. They don’t work.”
“But—”
Another wave of pain made his body spasm as if he was having an epileptic seizure.
“What can I do?” Enya asked, her voice full of concern, full of… pity.
He couldn’t let her see him like this. No woman wanted a weak man, least of all Enya. She was a warrior. How could she ever look up to a man who was weak? This could destroy his plan. “Leave. Please, leave.”
“Are you crazy? You need help.” She grabbed him by the shoulders and bent over him. “There has to be something that can be done.”
He knew there was no remedy for his condition. He had to get through this without any help. Alone. “I don’t want you to see me like—”
She pressed her finger over his lips. “Hush.” Then she put her palms to his temples and cupped his head, holding him still. “Just relax. Think of something that makes you happy. And just breathe, in and out.”
She brushed her lips to his in a featherlight kiss, her torso now fully touching his. Her breasts rubbed against his shirt, and he felt her warmth and softness calm him.
“That’s good,” he murmured, and put one arm around her waist, holding her close. “Your weight on me, it helps.”
Enya came to lie on top of him, one leg wedged between his thighs, rubbing against his balls.
He let out a deep sigh. With it, some of the pain left his body.
“Again,” Enya murmured. “Just breathe.”
He followed her instruction and took a deep breath, then let it out. Enya rubbed his temples softly. More pain seeped from his body. He inhaled again, his stomach lifting with the intake of air, then felt Enya shift on top of him. Arousal instead of pain suddenly charged through his body.
Zoltan opened his eyes and put his arm around her back, while he slid his other hand to her ass. “You’re a miracle worker. Normally these attacks last a half-hour.”
“I didn’t do anything,” she said. “I only reminded you to breathe and relax.”
“Wow.”
“Hasn’t your doctor taught you any relaxation techniques?”
He shook his head. He had no doctor. As a demon, that option wasn’t open to him. One blood draw and he would be exposed for his green blood.
“Maybe I should thank you,” he said, and pulled Enya’s face to him.
When their lips met, the last vestiges of pain fled and made way for the lust now coursing through his blood. His hands weren’t idle. He was already shoving her dress up to her waist and yanking on her G-string.
Enya lifted her head. “You can’t possibly—”
He pressed his cock against her soft flesh to make her aware of how hard she’d gotten him. “I can. That is, if you want me to.”
Now more than ever, after seeing him at his worst, at his most vulnerable, his most defenseless, he had to prove to her that he was the man she needed.
Enya sat up. “Eric—”
“Don’t say it,” he interrupted. “No woman wants a man who’s weak.” He silently cursed the migraine attack. Had it screwed up his carefully laid plan?
“Weak?” Her forehead furrowed. “You think you’re weak because you have migraines?” She blew out a breath and shook her head. “Idiot!”
Instead of jumping up and leaving, to his surprise, Enya pulled her dress over her head and tossed it to the floor. She wore no bra.
“Are you—”
She gave him a look that said more than words.
“You still want me,” he murmured.
“Obviously, you’ve been with the wrong women until now. You’re not gonna frighten me away with a migraine.”
“Obviously.” He put his hand on her nape and pulled her to him for a kiss. “I have the feeling not much is gonna frighten you.” Though he knew that one thing would drive her away for certain: finding out that he was a demon. That he was Zoltan, the Great One. But for tonight, he had to put that fact out of his mind. Enya had just shown him that his vulnerability could bring them closer.
“You’ll never frighten me,” she promised.
With a few movements, she freed herself from her panties, while Zoltan opened his pants and shoved them and his boxer briefs down to mid-thigh. He didn’t have time for more, because Enya was already straddling him and lowering herself onto his cock, impaling herself impatiently. He didn’t mind, because he was just as impatient.
Being with Enya was exciting, exhilarating, electrifying. She gave herself so freely, without restraints, without boundaries. And for now, he didn’t want to change the way she saw him, because once she found out who he really was, everything would change.
He would become her master, she his slave.
8
Enya looked over Pearce’s shoulder at the computer screen. They were alone in the command center. The ot
hers had already left for their various assignments.
“Who else is on the detail?” Enya asked.
Pearce scrolled farther down. “Just you and Jay.”
“Will Jay be carving the portal?”
Pearce chuckled. “Are you kidding? Cinead is gonna do it himself. He was around back when we had the dagger the first time. He knows how it’s done.” He winked at her. “He’s probably champing at the bit already. He’s wanted to move out of his old house for decades, and all that’s been keeping him there was the fact that he couldn’t move to a place without a portal.”
“Well, all that’s changed now. Finally we can open new compounds and new residences for our people.”
“Yep, the source dagger makes it all possible.”
It was the only tool that could create portals, the teleportation devices the Stealth Guardians relied upon to securely travel from one compound to another. The dagger had been lost for centuries, but only months earlier they’d recovered it—and not a moment too soon, or it would have fallen into the hands of the demons.
“You’ll meet Jay at the council compound,” Pearce said. “There, they’ll sign out the source dagger to you. You’ll travel to the compound in Seattle via portal. From there—”
“I know the drill. Jay and I will travel invisibly from there until we reach Cinead’s new home. I assume he’s already there?”
Pearce nodded. “He traveled there last night, taking the same precautions as you will be to make sure the demons won’t get a whiff of you. After you’re done, you and Jay will bring the dagger back to the council compound. I’m told there’s a long list of applicants who’ve applied for a personal portal.”
“I assume the approvals go by seniority?” After all, Cinead was one of the oldest living Stealth Guardians and a valued member of the Council of Nine, their ruling body.