C’est la vie. If I was bidding immortality adieu, I might as well enjoy the scenery.
“Nice place,” I said, making idle conversation as I tried and failed to quash my desire. Clearly my brain, willpower and blood were all now residing in my dick.
Looking at me askance for a brief moment, she laughed. “Thank you. I’ll be ready in a minute. Just relax, Mr. Inferno.”
Relax? Not happening. I rolled my eyes at my own idiocy. I was the greatest seducer to ever live. However, my lines were going to Hell—at least I didn’t say her bosom was nice.
The room was opulent, heavy furniture with sensual lines covered in rich lavender velvets and decadent brocades. Candles flickered on every available surface emitting a citrusy scent. Yet something was off. Putting my finger on it wasn’t possible yet, but I would. I adored puzzles and the Siren was an enigma.
Adrielle Rinoa was living on a plane I had no prior knowledge of and my guess was that was no accident. It was a certainty that if I was unaware of this wrinkle in time, others were unaware as well. Her secret hideaway was how she’d survived undetected all these thousands of years, and now I knew her secret.
I wondered if she had any intention of letting me leave alive. She clearly had no clue that wasn’t a possibility since I was a True Immortal and the fucking Devil to boot, but she’d let me enter her secret sanctum. Thankfully, the Eunuchs were nowhere in sight, but I was certain they were close by. They were bred to protect and I’d already seen how keen they were on restricting access to the Siren. This was shaping up to be an interesting photo shoot.
“Did you kill the Trolls?” she inquired, not looking up from her camera.
“I did. Did you sell your soul?” I questioned as she glanced up sharply. Her reaction made me think she was indeed selling her own soul. I was so fucking furious it floored me. Why should I give a damn if the Siren wanted to die? Tamping back my ire was difficult, but turning into a raging fireball was not exactly in the norm of acceptable social behavior. Not that I practiced normal very often.
“I owe you,” she said, ignoring the soul selling inquiry. “Your headshots shall be free of charge.”
With the expertise and ease of an actual photographer, she went about focusing the lights and arranging the backdrop.
“I’m not sure that equates,” I said, walking up behind her and breathing in her intoxicating scent. She was as aroused as I was and the scent of her desire almost brought me to my knees. Grabbing the pole of a light stand, I held on and stayed upright. All of me was upright at the moment.
“Equations can be sooo difficult. Have you tried a vacuum? It might remove the cobwebs from your brain,” she said moving away so quickly I felt the breeze of her departure.
“Really, darling,” I said getting wildly turned on by her insolence and the cat and mouse game we were playing. Her avoidance of my question didn’t even phase me. I’d get my answers soon enough. “Wouldn’t it be better to let the world think you’re daft instead of opening your delectable lips to prove it? I can think of far better things to do with your mouth.”
“I’ll just bet you could, Mr. Inferno. However, I’m not the least bit interested.”
“What language are you speaking?” I asked, seating myself on the leather chair she’d placed in front of the black backdrop. “Because it sounds distinctly like bullshit to me.”
“Are we going to continue this verbal sparring or do you want your picture taken?” Elle crossed her arms over her chest and pushed her mind-bogglingly perfect breasts higher. A move I was quite sure was done on purpose. “Because I can tell you now, I’ll win.”
“Will you?” I asked with a delighted laugh.
“Yes. I will,” she said with a look so sultry I was glad I was seated. Her glance slayed me. She was spectacular.
“Truth or dare,” I replied.
“Seriously?” she asked with a groan. “I’m a habitual liar and I like to throw things at people. This will not end well.”
“Truth or dare,” I repeated letting my eyes travel from the top of her head all the way to her toes—taking my time at her lips, breasts and the special spot between her legs that I wanted to taste more than life itself. It was dangerous using my own powers of seduction on the seductress, but no pain—no gain. And Hell knew I was already in pain. My cock now had its own zip code.
With an involuntary shudder of lust that she quickly hid, she sighed rudely and took a seat on the stool behind her camera.
“Fine,” she agreed curtly, wound up and threw the camera at my head narrowly missing by an inch.
I was fairly sure she’d missed on purpose. She had outstanding aim. The last time anyone had dared to throw something at me, they’d been burnt turned to ash. Bizarrely, I had no wish to incinerate the Siren. Adrielle Rinoa was far too much fun to destroy.
She went on as if she hadn’t just tried to decapitate me. “I suppose I owe you more than just free shots for the elimination of the Trolls. I will play your game for a bit. However, clothing is not optional—it stays on.”
“Come now, that’s no fun.” I snapped my fingers and the stool flew out from underneath her. She landed in an incredibly sexy heap on the floor and glanced up in complete shock.
Her joyous laugh went straight to my balls. I leaned forward so I didn’t implode.
“Nice move,” she congratulated me as the light stand next to me exploded and caught the edge of my robe on fire. “And fun is a relative word, Mr. Inferno. Your idea of fun could lead quickly to your demise.”
“Or yours,” I pointed out, waving my hand and extinguishing the fire.
“Doubtful,” she replied with a humorless laugh as she reset the fire with a wiggle of her adorable nose. “You intrigue me, Angel.
“The feeling is strangely mutual, Siren,” I replied. “However, Angel-Demon would be more accurate, but that’s for another conversation with far higher stakes.” Again, I doused the fire even though it felt wonderful. I didn’t want to freak her out—yet. “Truth or Dare?”
She considered me for a moment and then shrugged. “Truth.”
Damn it, I was hoping she’d say dare. As punishment for answering incorrectly, I levitated her and turned her upside down. “Is Adrielle Rinoa your real name?”
“No. Is Blade Inferno yours?” she shot back, snapping her fingers and changing the color of the black robe she insisted I wear to hot pink with marabou trim.
“No and you’re cheating. It’s not your turn. And honestly,” I huffed, glancing down. “Do you really think this is my color?
“Yes. Yes, I do. Your point?”
“You lied about your name?”
“Absolutely,” she replied with an evil little smirk.
Goddamn, she was perfect—a gorgeous, cheating liar who enjoyed lighting me on fire. How much better could this get?
“No point, darling,” I replied with a grin that had brought legions of women to their knees—literally. And then just for shits and giggles, I let the robe fall open so my assets could breathe.
Her hissed intake of breath wasn’t lost on me. I was beautiful. She was beautiful. She knew it and I knew it. We were a match made in Hell. Now if I could only make my Siren see that.
“Truth or dare?” Elle asked, breaking my levitation spell with a flick of her fingers and dropping to the ground on her feet. Of course, since no good deed goes unpunished, the dangerous woman conjured up a lime green cock sock to embarrass my manhood.
“I prefer black and I’ll need a far larger size than this.”
“Fine,” she purred with an evil glint in her eyes.
With and giggle and a staccato wave of her pinky finger, the emasculating banana hammock went from lime green to some kind of horrifying sequined black stretch material—and it was still too small.
“Beware of what you wish for,” she chided with a smile.
“Fine point. Well made. I’ll take Truth,” I replied, wondering if I could—or would—actually tell the truth.
“What are you? Why are you immune to me?” Her eyes were narrowed and she studied me intently.
I craved her eyes on me. However, her body would be far more satisfying.
“You already know what I am, little Siren. I’m a Demon with a little bit of Angel thrown in wearing a glittering embarrassment on my dick. Some might refer to me as your worst nightmare, but I think that’s pushing it a bit. And as for my immunity to you, my dick certainly didn’t get the memo.”
Elle tilted her head and looked for the untruth in what I’d said. She couldn’t find one because there wasn’t one.
“You work for Satan?”
My name on her lips was delightful. “You could say that. Why? Do you know him?”
She shook her head and I wanted to correct her—she did indeed know him, but I hesitated.
“You’re very powerful,” she commented as she ramped up her seduction, letting her sheer white bra strap fall down her shoulder and running her pink tongue over her full lips that I had a burning desire to bite.
Her nipples pebbled and it was difficult to keep my eyes on her face.
I didn’t move a muscle. She was testing me. While her game was compelling and making my sequined cock harder than I could recall it ever being, I realized I wanted her regardless of the seductive games she could play. I wanted all of her—her body and her devious soul. Unusual for me…
“Seriously?” she demanded in annoyed shock as she waved her hands and conjured a sheer pale lavender robe for herself that hid nothing.
I did nothing except stare—memorizing every glorious curve of her body. Not jumping her was the most difficult thing I’d ever done in my eternal life. Of course the debilitating agony of my rock hard dick and blue balls would have made movement awkward at the very least. I looked far more composed seated with an enormous boner. Her confusion at my lack of male response was amusing. She was getting annoyed and it was mind bogglingly hot.
“Are you gay?” she questioned, still mystified by my lack of reaction to her skill.
“It’s not your turn and no. No, I’m not gay. Truth or dare?” I asked.
“Truth,” Elle replied grumpily as she snapped her fingers and adorned me with cheap jewelry and headpiece of hideous plastic yellow flowers. She had no clue what to do with a man that didn’t fall at her feet.
Ignoring the fact I looked like a drag queen with very little taste, I simply smiled. Hell knows I wanted to fall at her feet, drag her to the ground, and lick every inch of her body, but I’d never taken a woman that wasn’t willing and I never would. Oh, I was certain she wanted me, but she was holding back. I wanted all of her. No matter how much she resisted, eventually I’d win. Then again, I wasn’t used to a woman that didn’t fall at my feet either. These rules were new and I wasn’t exactly sure how to play.
“Why are you a photographer? I’d think you’d be quite busy collecting and ruining men to feed your vicious appetite.”
“Don’t believe everything you hear, Demon,” she snapped as her hair began to blow around her head and her eyes blazed. “First off, I’m a very good photographer. Eternity is long. I needed a job. And contrary to popular myth, I only need lust to survive—male or female. All I have to do is place myself in a situation where desire is rampant and I absorb it. I don’t have to kill to feed. Besides, the body count got tiresome. I stopped that hobby thousands of years ago.’
“Really? Why?” I asked, quite interested. I’d always believed that Sirens drained the lives of their victims.
“Don’t you get weary of death, Demon?” she asked, avoiding the question.
“Depends on whose death we’re discussing, Siren,” I answered, cryptically. “I felt nothing killing the Trolls—they deserved it. So if I’m following your story, I’m going to surmise that you subsist on the lust of the grabby hookers at the book conventions.”
“Grabby hookers?” she questioned with a confused expression.
“The women at the book signing that tried to neuter me.”
“That would have been a shame,” she muttered trying not to laugh.
“It most definitely would have,” I said in all seriousness. I took my manly attributes very seriously. Now I wanted the Siren to take them seriously as well. “So the hookers?”
“They’re not hookers,” she replied with a laugh. “And yes, it’s a good place to leech off the lust I need without killing anyone. There’s quite a bit of desire at romance conventions and my Eunuchs are very popular with the ladies. Win-win.”
“However, you almost killed my Demons,” I countered.
“Your Demons?”
“Figure of speech—my homies—my buddies—my dudes,” I lied smoothly.
“They weren’t strong enough for what I needed—no one is,” she replied, staring at me with curiosity. “How high up on Satan’s food chain are you?”
Hell on fire, I was so very tempted to tell her who I was, but for some unexplainable reason I refrained. Sometimes when one knew they were dealing with the Devil things got awkward.
“Very high—very, very high. You might even say the highest.”
“And you’re really not affected by me?” she questioned, warily.
“Affected is another relative word. Do I want you? Yes. Can you bring me to my knees by putting me under a spell? No.”
“Is that a challenge, Demon?” she questioned as she approached me with a look in her eyes that was stupefyingly sexy.
“Possibly. Are you up for it?” I asked, enjoying the sway of her hips under the sheer robe.
“Possibly,” she said, mimicking my response. “God knows you certainly are.”
Wincing, I held up a hand. “Why don’t we leave him out of it—total cock blocker.”
“Leave who out?” she asked, perplexed.
“God,” I replied tightly. Even saying my brother’s name pissed me off.
She paused her advance and searched my face. “You know him?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes—not fun at all. A total bore. You’d hate him. Let’s get back to something far more interesting and relevant,” I suggested.
“And that would be?”
“Me. Buried to the hilt inside of you.”
The Siren froze and an expression of raw naked longing passed over her face, but she shut it down immediately. Quashing anything real she was feeling, she gave me a smile that came nowhere near to reaching her eyes. It was false and I wanted to wipe it from her lips. The tilt of her mouth belied the look of devastation on her face.
“Kiss me,” I demanded as I stood and met her in the middle of the room. “Just one kiss.”
Shaking her head and backing away, she paced the room and tried to compose herself. Her frustration was evident and she didn’t know how to proceed.
“My kiss is a Judas Kiss,” she whispered harshly, running her hands through her hair and imploring me to understand with her eyes. “You won’t survive it.”
“Why don’t we try it out and see?” I asked, knowing full well her kiss would do nothing except make my dick harder.
“Are you insane or do you have a death wish? I just told you that kissing me would kill you,” she snapped.
With a shrug and a quick removal of the unflattering pink robe, I grinned. “Insane? Absolutely. I come by it naturally and I take it as a compliment. Death wish? Not today. Kiss me Adrielle Rinoa aka Name Withheld for the Moment.”
“Full disclosure, Blade Inferno. My kiss has killed many.”
“How many?” I asked, not because I was in fear for my life. I was fucking jealous of those who had come before me. I wasn’t a saint—not even close, but…
“Many,” she replied flatly.
“I’ll take my chances.”
She approached cautiously and stood mere inches from me. Her lips were a breath away from mine and she stared at me with wonder.
“You’re just horrible—despicable, rude, vicious—you’re perfect,” she breathed out on a happy sigh.
“And don’t forget
—hung like a fucking horse.”
“Also exceptionally conceited,” she added with an eye roll.
“This is true.”
“I kind of like you,” she whispered in amazement, staring at my mouth with longing. “I’d feel bad if I killed you, which is very rare for me.”
“How long has it been since you were kissed?” I asked.
Raising her amethyst eyes to mine, she shook her head. “Can’t remember.”
“Sex?”
“I can’t remember,” she repeated.
I sucked in my breath with a muttered a curse. The feeling of relief mixed with victory washed over me in a rush that left me dizzy. Jealousy was a fabulous trait except when it involved me on the receiving end.
Why I felt like I’d won the lotto of the entire world a million times over was a mystery. But the fact that she’d not been touched in pleasure for countless centuries felt like a tangible victory.
“Kiss me,” I repeated.
Tracing my lips with her fingers, she was tempted.
“Or how about I take that decision out of your hands?” I asked and then went in for the metaphorical kill.
How was I to know that a simple kiss could be more intense than the act of sex? Kissing Adrielle Rinoa was beyond my wildest imagination. My open lips captured hers. Anything gentle and seductive I’d had in mind flew out the door. Penetrating her mouth with my hungry tongue, I took as she gave and gave as she took. My erection pushed heavily against her flat stomach.
“So good,” she muttered against the invasion of my lips, tongue and teeth.
Our power tangled and filled the room. I felt like I was swimming in it. It kissed my skin like the fire I so adored—exhilarating and addictive. In my arms, she felt like liquid desire.
Fire ripped over my skin and I groaned in pleasure. Her magic and need had overwhelmed her—Elle was unaware of her actions. Black fire sparked from her fingertips and bathed my body in heat.
Imprisoning her wrists, I pushed them over her head and aligned my body to hers. Her unfocused eyes sought mine in question, but before speech was an option I took her mouth again with an urgency of a starving man—biting, sucking, licking. Her taste was something I hadn’t known I needed. How had I gone without this for millions of years?
Fashionably Flawed: Book Nine, The Hot Damned Series Page 13