With a huff, he goes to open it, one hand positioned at his back where his 9 millimeter is tucked at his waist. I hold my breath. Vampire? Shit, do I really want to know?
I contemplate escaping to the back bedroom, but before I can, Legion opens the door, an annoyed sneer on his lips.
“Oh, apologies. Am I interrupting?” the Dark king smugly says, that permanent smirk perfectly in place. Cyrus stands behind him, ever so silent and lethal, as a vampire would be. So that’s what Dorian must have meant about turning Legion. He meant turn him into a vampire. But how?
Don’t ask, I tell myself. I’ve had one too many revelations for the day. I’m pretty sure one more would tip me over the edge.
“Is there something you need?” Legion’s voice is sharp with annoyance. Of the three men, he’s better matched with Cyrus in the size and strength department, but there’s something about Dorian—something dark and menacing that tells me that he has no need for bulging muscles and towering height. He could kill with just a wink of his pale blue eye.
But that’s not to say that Legion isn’t capable of the same. He’s so shrouded in secrets and unspoken myth that I can’t be sure. I know he’s a killer, but in how many ways could he rip someone apart? I have a feeling the possibilities are endless.
“I’ve come with a bit of a peace offering. From my family to yours.” He flicks his hand and the door bursts completely open, allowing him to stride in casually. Cyrus silently follows.
“What’s the catch?” Legion asks. His tone is almost polite, but the frantic ticking of his jaw says otherwise.
“No catch,” Dorian responds, his expression sober. He’s not even smirking with condescension. “My wife has grown fond of the girl. It would hurt her to see her harmed. I’m here to try to remedy that.”
“You can stop the Calling?” I ask. I fail to keep the blind hope from reaching my voice.
“Unfortunately, no. The signs of the Calling are a natural progression triggered by stress and time. I can’t stop them, just as I can’t stop you from aging, but I can slow them down. I can give you more time.”
More time? For what? What are they waiting for?
“Again, what’s the catch?” Legion interjects, stepping in front of me. He’s risked everything for me. What else could we possibly bargain with?
“And again, there’s no catch. I’m not what you think I am, Legion. I never was. There once was a time when you saw that.”
From around Legion’s bicep, I watch the two men share a weighted glance, as if communicating telepathically. Legion knew Dorian before this? How? And when? Shit, if Legion is billions of years old, how old is the Dark king? And do the others know? It seemed like Toyol had the inside connection through Cyrus. Obviously, he wasn’t privy to the fact that Legion knew more about the Dark monarchy than he let on.
“Fine,” Legion says, nodding once. “Do whatever you have to do, as long as you can ensure she will be unharmed.”
“You have my word.” Dorian flicks his gaze to the bedroom. “In there. And we’ll need privacy.” Legion’s whole frame twitches, no doubt about to object with vehemence, when the king shakes his head. “She will be safe. However, you’ll need to stay close. She’ll need you afterward.” The king extends his hand to me, not at all dissuaded by the hulking mass of demon standing between us. “Come.”
I look at his outstretched palm and gaze up at Legion. His silver eyes swirl with uncertainty, however he gives me a single nod. He’s reluctant to leave me alone with Dorian, but he knows it’s safe. He wouldn’t be breathing if he posed a threat.
I take the king’s hand, not even bothering to still the subtle shaking. He gives it a gentle squeeze of reassurance and leads me to the bedroom. I’m not foolish enough to believe that anything remotely sexual would be going down. Gabriella doesn’t seem like the sharing type, and considering her power far exceeds anything the world had ever seen, I doubt he’d be stupid enough to test the limits of her tolerance. Plus, he’s here for her.
“Lie down,” he instructs, his voice a tender caress. So different from the haughty tone he used during our first sit down earlier today.
I do as instructed, my body stiff as a board above the satin duvet. I don’t even bother to remove my shoes.
“What I will do to you won’t hurt, however it may seem disorienting. Your mind—and essentially—your heart will be open, allowing all your fears and fantasies to completely rule your emotions. Do you understand?”
I nod through my fear.
“Good. Now take a deep breath. Think of something that brought you happiness. Something that made you feel loved and alive. Focus on that; hold onto that.”
His earnest words pierce right through my skull, reverberating with a sense of authority. I find myself flipping through my mind’s Rolodex without even meaning to. I don’t fight the impulse. I can’t.
“You are so beautiful.” He strokes my cheek with the back of his hand. It’s the only part of him that I’d ever consider soft, other than his full lips. “You know that, right?”
“You say it all the time, but with a reverence I’ll never comprehend.”
“That’s because you can’t see what I see. You can’t feel what I feel when I kiss your lips. You don’t smell the sunshine in your hair. You can’t taste the milk and honey between your thighs. But I can. And everything about you—your entire being—is absolutely beautiful.”
I have no response, so I simply reach up to slide my fingers in his hair, and bring his lips to mine. He kisses me deeply, drinking me in. His tongue firm and thick, just like the rest of him, yet, his kisses are soft and pliant. I gasp in his mouth, and pull him closer, longing to feel his rock solid frame pressed against mine. He laughs as I gently claw at his back.
“Easy, baby. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You can’t hurt me,” I giggle into his throat, licking a trail from his chin over his pronounced Adam’s apple to his collarbone. “Unless I let you.”
“And under what circumstances would you let me?” He nestles his body between my legs, and slides a palm up my bare thigh, parting me wider.
“When you scrape your teeth along my ribcage and nibble down to my hipbone,” I moan.
“Like this?” He descends until I feel his mouth—hot and wet—under my breast bone. Then he lightly scratches the thin skin, traveling down to my arching pelvis.
“Yes,” I reply breathlessly, the sensation somewhere between tickling and stinging. “And when you take my nipples between your fingers and squeeze. I’d let you do that.”
On cue, he reaches up to roll the already pebbled flesh between his thumb and index finger before pinching it with enough pressure to make me inhale sharply at the prick of pain. So good…so good that I can’t help but grasp my other breast and knead, mimicking his assault.
“You’re doing great, Eden,” Dorian coos from far away. His voice is a balm, soothing and healing. It coaxes the manufactured memory.
“Tell me more,” he growls against my skin. He pulses against my leg, hard and ready. His body begs for relief but he likes his games. He loves to tease me until we’re both beyond denying ourselves for another second. And when our bodies collide, when he buries himself inside of me with enough force to make the heavens tremble, we both break apart from impact. Loving him is a lesson in restraint. I restrain myself daily from mounting him whenever I see him. I restrain my heart from revealing how much I truly love him.
“I let you hurt me…” my voice cracks under the strain of trying to hold back from him. “…when I let you leave me. Every day, when you have to go and pretend for them…pretend like we’re not lovers, it hurts me deeply. But I let it happen, because I know it has to be this way. It’s not safe for us otherwise.”
He halts his playful biting and lifts his head, his expression sober. His sensual mouth parts, but I shake my head, not wanting to hear it.
“I know, I know,” I say, tears gleaming in my eyes. “I know there’s nothing we can do.”
&n
bsp; His pensive, silver gaze studies my face. “Let me go to Him. Explain. Maybe if we show Him this is real—that our love is true and pure—we will gain His mercy.”
“No. You know that is not possible. If he finds out…”
“It won’t matter if the Creator bestows his blessing.”
I shake my head once more and pull him to me, aligning his stunning face with mine. He is and always will be the most dazzling being I’ve ever seen. “I don’t need anyone to tell me what I already know. What we have is real and good and beautiful. No one can take that away from us. No matter what anyone says, I know that within my heart of hearts. I love you, and I always will. Even when I’m just an echo in the wind and my bones are specks of dust amongst the stars, I will love you with every inch of my body and soul.”
He kisses me like he’s trying to taste my aching heart and lick its bleeding wounds. I kiss him like I’m trying to rewrite our fate with the tip of my tongue.
He enters me swiftly with a desperation that I feel in my spine. I cry out, but I beg him to keep going. Hurt me. Hurt me so good. Maybe it’ll eclipse the pain gathering in my chest.
“Just a little while longer, Eden,” Dorian’s distant voice sounds. He chants quietly, the words melding into a low hum.
Ecstasy washes over me in violent waves, emitting a white glow from our sweat-slickened skin. He matches my moans with his groans. He meets my cries with his hisses.
I clutch his strong shoulders as he empties his passion into me, creating slick friction at my swollen flesh still quivering around him. He doesn’t stop flexing his hips until I feel that tidal wave building again, this time stronger and more devastating than before. I can’t catch my breath. I feel like I’m dying, drowning in his deep sea of delicious agony over and over again.
“Hold on to me,” he grits through clenched teeth. “Hold on and never let go…”
“It’s done,” I hear Dorian say. My eyes are still closed but I feel his presence—his magic—coursing over me.
“What did you do to her?” Legion growls. There’s heat at my side, sweltering intensity that makes tiny beads of sweat gather across my chest.
“She’s fine. The spell was effective, but has left her vulnerable. Her emotions are completely exposed. Be gentle with her. She’ll need you, and she won’t be able to understand why.” There’s a beat of silence, then Dorian asks, “Does she know?”
“No.”
“Do the others?”
“Phenex.”
“And how do you expect to explain this to her when it’s revealed? Do you really think he’ll let this go?”
“It’s none of your concern, warlock. You’ve helped her, and for that I am grateful. However, this is above your pay grade.”
A low chuckle. “Whatever you say, demon. Just remember our bargain.”
Soft footfalls trail away from my position on the bed and halt. “Be careful with her,” Dorian warns. “Her heart is…cold, but fragile. Hurt her, and it’ll shatter like ice. Then you’ll have to answer to Gabriella.”
The click of the door is the last thing I hear before falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.
My skin is on fire.
I’m so hot I can feel the blood boiling in my arteries. I thrash, seeking relief, but I only end up colliding with more overwhelming warmth. So hard, yet smooth and inviting. I wrap my arms around it, trying to contain it against my tender breasts. I maul and scratch, wanting to ink myself with its molten fire.
“Easy, firecracker,” a harsh whisper tickles my ear. His lips stroke the delicate patch of skin where it meets my jaw.
“Mmmmm,” I purr. “More.”
“Yeah?” He runs the blunt of his fingertips across my shoulder, easing my pale hair to one side. I feel him trace a line down my neck with the tip of his nose, scenting my burning skin.
“That feels so good,” I gasp as pinpricks scatter down my arm. More, more, more, I mentally beg. He rewards my unspoken plea by sliding his hands down my arm and intertwining our fingers. His touch is like heroine glitter in my veins. I’m wild and addicted to this garish beauty, sparkling like splintered diamonds in the sun.
We lay in the dark, face to face, our legs tangled like twisted vines underneath the sheets. Mine are naked, much like the rest of me, save for my panties and bra. Legion’s chest is bare, but slacks cover the lower part of his body. I look down at my lace-covered breasts, wondering where my clothes went, but grateful for their absence from my scorching skin.
“You ripped them off,” Legion says, answering the slight frown dimpling my brow. “And mine too. You would’ve shredded the pants had I not stopped you.”
“Why did you?” I coo, snuggling closer to his bare chest.
“Because you only think you want what’s underneath.”
“I don’t think I want it. I know I do.” I slip my hand between us, tugging at the belt buckle. He grips my hands in one of his, stilling my advance.
“No, you don’t, Eden. It’s the effects of the magic. It can make humans insatiable, irrational. It’ll wear off soon. Just try to rest.”
“Please,” I beg, struggling to free my hands. “I want you so bad. It hurts.” I squeeze my thighs together, trying to extinguish the fire simmering in my core. It only rages hotter, brighter.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” His voice is gentle, his breath stirring the hair grazing my forehead.
I don’t even recognize my own voice. It’s too eager, too raw with need. “Then don’t. Make it stop. Please. Make the burning stop.”
“I can’t.” His own gruff tone is laced with a touch of desperation. “Not how you need me to.”
“Please. Just do something. Anything.”
He sucks in a breath, steeling his resolve. “Okay. But…hands to yourself.”
“How?” My palms are scorched with the need to touch him. He’s hot, but somehow, it squelches the flame roaring under my skin.
“Just try. If you want me to help you, you have to do as I say.”
“Okay,” I whine, near tears. “Just take it away. Put out the fire in me.”
He gently pushes me until I’m flat on my back, and rips the sheet away. Reflexively, I part my legs wider, welcoming him into my melting core.
“Careful,” he warns, kneeling between my opened thighs. I want to wrap them around him, and pull him closer, but he stops me by gripping me at the knees. “I’m serious, firecracker. Try to stay still.”
“But what if I can’t?”
“Then I can’t touch you. And you want me to touch you, right?”
“Yes,” I answer too quickly. “I’ll be still.”
Moonlight slices a silver shadow across his face and chest as he gazes down at me, a thousand dazzling supernovas in his eyes. They seem to glow as he slowly slides his palms from my knees up to my outer thighs. I moan, tipping my head back. Those callused fingers tremble over lace. I silently beg for it to disintegrate into ash just from the friction of his searing touch. He touches my ribs, stroking each one, before he caresses his way to the middle of my belly. Pressure builds at my navel, a hard, throbbing knot that knocks the breath from my lungs. It glows within my womb, pounding with its own hedonistic heartbeat. Faster, harder, deeper inside me until I gasp for air. Its weight anchors me to the bed as I drown in a torrential downpour of pleasure. Then all at once, the knot bursts into a million jagged fragments of orgasm, each shard stabbing my hypersensitive nerve endings until they ache with ecstasy. I buckle off the bed, my movements no longer my own, and cry out. His hands grip my waist, pressing the knot inside me until it’s expelled every drop of agonizing bliss.
“Breathe deep,” Legion instructs. “Let it flow through you.”
My spine is a rigid beam, but my limbs are jelly. Only his hands hold me up, my sex aligned with his belt buckle. The cool metal bites into my swollen mound, adding another layer of sensation.
“Wha-what did you do to me?” I stammer, my words slurred.
“I took care of you. A litt
le too well, I see. Shit, you’re soaking,” he grumbles, looking down at the strip of black lace between my thighs, no doubt drenched with my release. Even in the dim lighting, I see him lick his lips.
“Taste it,” I whisper, through panting breaths.
Glowing eyes flicker to mine. “Stop it.”
“Do it. I won’t touch you. You don’t even have to take off my panties.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
“I know exactly what I’m asking for. I want this. You want this.”
A war wages in his menacing stare for what seems like eternity. Then, too swiftly for my human eyes, he leans down to meet my elevated lower half, and rests the backs of my knees on his shoulders.
Had I known that I would break apart a second time merely from the scrape of his hot tongue against my skin, I would have braced myself. But before I can even take a deep breath, I’m moaning to the moon, howling his name, as he laves the tender skin between my swollen sex and the most sensitive part of my thigh. A low growl rumbles his throat as he tastes the other one, savoring every drop that’s escaped my panties. I want to plead for him to tear them off, but I can’t. The sound of him indulging in the taste of me, the feel of that thick, firm tongue licking and sucking and—oh, shit—nibbling…coherent words fail me completely. I only know wet. And hot. I only know this all-consuming pleasure that makes my blood shimmer with silver starlight and golden fire.
He eases my sated body to the bed. His mouth still gleams with the remnants of my release. We stare at the other, each of us needing more to quell the craving roaring in our veins.
“Kiss me.” My voice is hoarse from moaning, screaming.
“Eden…”
“Please. If you won’t let me taste any other part of you, at least let me taste your lips.”
He closes his eyes, letting his chin touch his chest. “You’ll forget this. You’ll forget wanting me as badly as I want you—shit, as badly as I’ve wanted you for longer than you’ve been alive. You’ll forget what you felt tonight while the taste of you will be forever embedded on my tongue. You’ll wake up tomorrow without an inkling of how I made you shake from just my touch, while I’ll still smell you on my skin.” When he lifts his head, pearlescent sorrow swirls within his brilliant depths. “So if you have to forget—and I know you do—I don’t want to kiss you. Not tonight. I want to save that piece of us for a time when you’ll remember, for a time when you’ll want to remember. And I want you to touch your lips days afterward and smile at the memory. I won’t take away your free will. I can’t steal that away from you, even if that moment never comes.”
Born Sinner (Se7en Sinners #1) Page 21