Not with her in his arms, not with her scent wrapping around him, not with her small sounds and parted lips and flushed cheeks, not with who and what she was to him, and not with who and what he was – not now.
The room in the center of the Carousel was more than a room. It was a dimension all its own, creating within its darkness all he could ever need or want. It had been made for him, given to him, and he had controlled it for thousands of years. And now, what he needed and what it made was a bed.
Its sheets were satin black, its bed posts thick and strong, and as he took her down upon the mattress, the walls of that magic room rumbled, the ceiling shook, and thunder rolled low and loud over the Carousel. The glass animals shook in their casings, the music of the night was drowned out, and Nicholas bared his fangs for the dark world to see.
Wings exploded from his back, painful and wonderful, freed at last in their true form, their tremendous span filling the space of the room from wall to wall. His skin darkened, taking on the hues of the night, his hair lengthened, pitch blue-black like the feathers of a raven, and his body grew, its musculature expanding into that of one of the strongest beasts to hunt the night.
Color shifted before his changing eyes, bringing the world around him into sharp focus. And that wasn’t all that came into focus. Suddenly, he knew what needed to be done – and wanted to do it as he’d never wanted anything in his long life.
She was laid out before him like a sacrifice, and little did she realize that was exactly what she was going to become for him. He could feel her desire radiating off her like heat, smell it in the air like an elixir perfume, and hear it in the soft, shallow breathing emitting from between her flushed lips. She stared up at him through glazed eyes, and he knew that her yearning and his need had finally done her in.
He lodged one knee firmly between her legs and leaned over her until his lips were inches from her own. He watched her gaze up at him, watched the shifting of emotions cross her lovely features. He grew painfully hard at the depth of both fear and desire in her eyes. She was afraid. But she was too undone by the magic of her longing to pay heed to the warning bells that were no doubt sounding in her head at the sight of him.
Terrifying to behold, beautiful beyond reason, he was well aware he commanded the night in that moment, and everything that moved and breathed within it, especially her. “This is going to hurt,” he told her honestly as he used a clawed fist to rip open jeans that had grown far too tight around his crotch. “And it won’t be over quickly,” he continued, still being honest. “But…” He leaned in and gently, so gently, brushed his lips across hers.
She moaned as his magic flooded her, forcing more moisture between her legs, creating a longing inside her so strong that she would have dealt with whips and chains just then if only to have release. He saw her nipples outlined hard and beautiful against the thin material of her tee-shirt. He wanted to rip her clothes off, tearing them to shreds to lay her bare, but he needed her to know this first. He needed to warn her.
And then she would be his.
“I will take the pain away,” he promised. And he would replace it with a pleasure like she’d never dreamed. It just had to hurt first… because for her to join him as his Nightmare Queen, she had to be changed. And that change would require a rather rough exchange. A blood exchange.
And he was no sissy vampire. This one was going to take more than a single sinking of the fangs. He had to consume her. He had to possess her in every possible way.
At the thought of what he was going to have to do to her, a gasoline of burning, raging need was tossed onto the fire already ravaging his soul, and he could barely contain himself long enough to make certain she understood – to make certain she accepted – what had to happen. Whatever type of monster he was, he was not that kind.
Yet.
“Adelaide,” he said, his voice different, deeper, and laced with menace. His muscles strained and her eyes grew wide at the sight of him. “Do you understand?” he asked. Did she understand that there would be pain? Did she care?
Did he?
Oh, I care, he thought sadistically. And he smiled.
Addie’s eyes fixed on his fangs, and bless her brave soul, the woman actually nodded. It was small, but it was there. She nodded – and her pulse quickened, and her breathing became more rapid, and Nicholas spared just a second to memorize the sight of her and the heat of this moment.
And then he gently took her arms in his clawed hands and raised them above her head. With a mere thought, the bindings appeared. There were four of them, each fastened securely around the base of a bed post. He took the first thick, black leather strap and wrapped it taut around Addie’s right wrist, locking it down with the strong metal fastener attached. It shone in the faint light of candles placed in sconces along the walls. It was the same light he knew glowed in his blood red eyes and sealed her doom as she was slowly rendered defenseless.
Adelaide eyed the restraint warily, but her body writhed, unable to keep still under the intense need coursing through her. He wasn’t going easy with the magic; his monster was in control now, seducing her down to her core. His power wrapped around her with an iron fist, a grip meant to hold on tight, hopefully forever.
He was as gentle as he could be when he took her other wrist and did the same with it that he’d done with the first. Her chest rose and fell with a near panicked anticipation, and he could tell dizziness was sweeping over her. She flexed her muscles in her bindings, testing their strength, and the sight caused a low growl to rise slowly through his throat. It reverberated in the air, not unlike thunder, and Addie’s attention was back on him.
Once both arms were secured, he moved to her legs. At the prospect of being spread-eagled on his bed, some kind of sensible fear must have lodged in Addie’s heart, because she began to struggle. It was slow, and half-hearted, and she moaned under the pressure of her desire, but she pulled against him all the same.
Nicholas just smiled and shook his head; she’d given in to him already. He could smell her. He could feel the heat coursing through her veins; it fevered her skin under his none-too-gentle touch. She was lost and she knew it. And so did he.
She was still fully clothed, but he was going to make fun work of dealing with that once she was immobile. He firmly wrapped his hands around each of her ankles, then used his body to hold down one long leg while he deftly tied the other to one of the lower posts. Now she really began fighting, but there was a glint in her eyes, and a curve to her lips that betrayed her eagerness.
She liked it rough.
He already knew that. He knew everything about her now. He was the Incubus King, with a spirit that made its way inside her, delved deep, and dug out all of her secrets. He knew it all – and he relished in it.
Because he was about to use it very much against her.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Most of the world was blacked out, fading into the sidelines of her consciousness, but Nicholas was dead center, in focus, and larger than life. His transformation had been awe-inspiring, horrifying, and absolutely wondrous. She’d imagined beings like him, somewhere in some other universe, reigning from dark heaven, but even in her dreams, they’d never looked quite as magnificent, quite as forbidding, not nearly as menacing as the Nightmare King who now bent low over her and whispered words across her lips.
His skin was the color of night, his eyes glowed like a red giant sun, thick black horns spiraled up from his head, and bright white fangs pressed on his lower lip with teasing, terrible promise. He carried the scent of night with him, of the very dreams she remembered. It was an indescribable thing, like a memory, sultry and faint and tantalizing. He loomed over her with wings twice as large as the wings he’d worn before. They spread out behind him like the cover of night, shielding her from the Cosmos. With him above her, she felt enveloped and somehow both endangered and safe, despite the bindings he was meticulously wrapping around her limbs.
Hard, relentless heat spre
ad through her, taunting, teasing. She was on fire at her core, burning with a need that she was sure would drive her mad. She tried to move, tried to assuage the driving desire, but he took her arms and legs, trapping them in bindings she could not escape, inhibiting her movement. She fought, not because she didn’t want him to do what he was doing, but because she couldn’t help it. She needed to move, she needed to touch, she needed….
Oh God! she thought hopelessly. What is this?! What is this pain?!
It hurt. He’d told her it would, and he was right. It already hurt and he hadn’t even done anything. She needed him so badly, it was too much. Do something! she pleaded with him wordlessly – wordlessly because she could not form words, she couldn’t speak. Her mind was muttering incoherently, and her mouth could do nothing but part its lips and breathe.
She fixed her gaze on his teeth; his eyes were too intense, too beautiful – they saw into her soul, and she damned well knew it. And his teeth were so sharp, and he was smiling so… promisingly.
When she was completely tied down and he’d managed to do away with her shoes as well, she pulled against her restraints, testing their strength. They held her fast, and she knew they would continue to do so no matter how hard she fought. She closed her eyes. A sensation swept over Adelaide. For once in her life, she didn’t have to be in control – because she couldn’t be in control. It was freeing, exhilarating, and wonderfully frightening.
She felt him move above her, and she opened her eyes again. Nicholas sat back and straightened, rising over her like the devil himself, and his eyes raked over her form. She was still clothed, as was he, but his muscles now strained beautifully against the fibers of his clothing as if they would break at any moment. And his gaze burned through her, searing her as though she wasn’t wearing a single thread.
Her pulse quickened impossibly when he leaned over and curled the claws of his fingers into the material of her shirt at her collar. Sharpness pricked at her skin, threatening to pierce through. She held her breath, and Nick’s fanged smile broadened wickedly. Slowly, he ran the make-shift blade down the cloth, and the shirt split in two, revealing her flesh beneath inch by teasing inch. The cool air touched her newly exposed skin, and she had an idea of the reality of the situation.
The shirt fell open, and Addie closed her eyes. The lace of her bra rubbed stiffly against her tightening, lengthening nipples. Her breasts heaved, heavy and swollen, flushed with helpless need.
He chuckled, low and cruel above her, and she gasped, arching her back when those same claws he’d used to destroy her shirt now curled over the top of her bra. They scraped along the flesh of her breasts, pricking her nipples as they curled downward, gripping the material tight. The sensation coursed through her entire body, nearly too much for her to bear.
He paused only a moment, possibly to allow her to suffer, then ripped the bra in two with one quick tearing motion. The material didn’t have a chance to cut into her before it was in tatters.
Now the air hit her and his eyes scorched her, and Adelaide pulled at her bindings, flexing everything she possibly could in an attempt to stop the pulsing pain that was her lust. His laughter followed her into that madness as he moved down her body, and his breath burned every inch of flesh his lips passed over. He slowed over her breast, and Addie bucked.
His mouth closed over her nipple, impossibly hot. He was burning her! It was delicious and sizzling, but impossible to bear. Then his teeth pricked the sensitive flesh. She cried out with the intense surprise of it, but she had almost no time to adjust to the sensation before he lifted his head and said, “I did warn you.”
His voice was a growl in the candle-lit darkness. She managed to look down the length of her body at him, barely catching his menacing form in focus – the devil in the dark – before he lowered his head again, and his lips once more closed over her nipple.
She threw back her head – and screamed into the night as his teeth pierced the tender skin of her breast, sinking deep. The pain was incomprehensible, because lacing it like ice on crackling fire, was a pleasure that shoved her toward a precipice and left her dangling helplessly over it.
Then he pulled against that fresh, deep wound, and she tumbled over the edge head over heel.
An orgasm ripped through her, stealing the breath from her lungs so her scream died into an agonized silence. Nicholas Wargrave continued his torture, finished drinking, and pulled his teeth from her wound. He laughed again, low and evil. “Gods, you taste good,” he told her as she rode out the waves of pleasure rippling through her. Sweat broke out along her body, and her legs pulled ever stronger at their bonds.
But he wasn’t finished, she knew. Not by a long shot. Which he proved when he moved over her again and his breath touched her other breast. His muscles rippled, his wings flicking like the disturbed wings of a dragon behind him, and once again, his hot mouth closed over her breast.
As she caught her breath, and more yearning followed too fast on the tail of her exquisite release, she moaned low, a helpless sound that foretold of her intimate demise. He sucked hard, and his teeth teased, nicking small pinpricks that divulged droplets of precious blood and had her yanking madly at her restraints.
The leather was beginning to dig into her wrists. She knew it would bruise, but she couldn’t have cared less. She was in agony, her core on fire.
Nick’s strong hands were suddenly on her upper arms, grasping them tight and holding them still. He lifted from her body long enough to gaze threateningly up at her. “Only I’m allowed to mark my queen,” he told her.
Then, as if to prove it, he lowered his head and in one fluid, painful movement, he sank his fangs once more into her tender waiting body. Just as he had with her first breast, he sank deep – and she screamed. He pulled hard, harder than he had before, and it hurt more. The climax that came over her a second later was all the more powerful. She arched her back and tossed her head, her voice piercing the heavens.
He sucked and he drank, and she could not fight him – and her body burned a bonfire of continuous need and release. Without releasing her from his bite, he let go of her arms to slide his hands down her sides, gripping her body tightly as he went. He marked her there too, leaving small bruises that made her mind spin. She was becoming his in every way.
He continued to drink while his claws were once more curling over an article of her clothing, digging into the waistband of her jeans and gripping tight. A blink – it was all she did – and the material was disintegrated beneath his onslaught, ripped to a hundred different pieces and left to decorate the bed with its remnants.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Nicholas released her breast from his torturous attack and lifted his head. He needed to see her, needed to see her like this, to imprint her on his mind. His cock was killing him; it had never been this hard for this long, had never been this fucking on fire. But if he didn’t see her now, he never would, because he was nearly blind with need.
So he rose, and his eyes blazed as they scorched over the valleys and plains of her body.
Hell, he thought lowly, his own words a rumble in his mind. She was painfully exquisite. She was tied down for him, bleeding for him, and still wanted more. Her need almost mirrored his own and radiated from her body like an aura of its own.
He wrapped his hands around her ankles and slowly ran them up the long length of her legs. Goose bumps rose on her flesh under his touch, and her knees bent as she tried to get away from him. It was useless, of course. Those bindings would never give; mortals had no hope of escaping them.
Even though she wouldn’t be mortal for long.
Already, he could sense a transfer taking place inside her. As he pulled her old being out of her, he replaced it with the carnal pleasure that was a Nightmare’s makeup. And he had so much further, so many more delicious bites to take.
“Sweet Adelaide,” he said, whispering her name low into the room. “You’ve given so much.” He smiled and his fangs ached, throbbing w
ith their need to dig once more into her. “But you have so much more to give.”
He laughed and then moved over her, running his hands up underneath the material of her panties before brutally ripping them from her body. She gave the smallest gasp, a tiny sound of protest amidst the moans and sighs his power was racking from her form. He did away with his own clothes with a simple incubus thought, and the night wrapped around him with welcoming arms, lending him its power.
Now she was bared completely, writhing madly, and slick with wet need, waiting for him. The scent of her washed over him, and he went insane. A roar filled the chamber, shaking the walls as his claws dug into the taut skin of her thighs, holding them far apart.
He lunged forward with all of his strength. His cock crashed ruthlessly past her slick but tight opening, pressing inch by brutal inch into her channel without mercy. Her scream filled the room, coupling with his roar of pleasure.
Every tiny bit of entry he gained was flawless agony and blessed relief. Though it quenched his thirst, it also made him want more. She was a drug in his system, feeding him and killing him at once.
Take her, his monster told him. Take all of her.
It was the only thing that would stop this pain.
He leaned in, pitilessly pressing deeper, and Adelaide cried out again hoarsely, her voice now tested to its limits. His body covered hers, loomed over it in complete possession, and his hands released their nail-deep grip on her thighs to cup her face. “Look at me, Adelaide,” he commanded, his tone a demand from the depths of hell. “Look at me now.”
She did. His power prevented her from doing anything else. But he didn’t fail to notice that she did so slowly. She was growing stronger, even now. Inch by inch, second by second, she was becoming. As if to teach her a lesson in resistance, he pulled out ever so slightly and shoved back in with brutal strength, bottoming out inside her, his larger than life girth filling her to the point of sweet, sweet hell.
The Nightmare King (The Kings Book 11) Page 18