Doomsday Brethren, Book 04: Entice Me at Twilight

by Shayla Black

  No doubt he was the sort of lover who made lying back and thinking of England impossible. She shivered. It wasn’t merely the sex—at which Felicia had no doubt he’d be quite skilled—but the intimacy. His kisses. His touch. His sensual heat. His whispered words. His possession. All would deepen her feelings, put her heart in peril. The part of her that had never stopped weeping after Deirdre’s death was terrified of being that unguarded with anyone again.

  Felicia tried to ease away from Hurstgrove. His grip held like iron. Both panic and excitement zipped through her.

  He glared at the other women. “Get out. Now.”

  Jaws dropping, Kari exited quickly, followed by Sydney and Anka. Olivia paused to pat her shoulder on her way out the door.

  “Wait!” she called after them.

  They went on, falling quickly out of sight. Only Sabelle lingered in the doorway.

  Felicia tried to swallow her rising desire and anxiety. “What’s happening?”

  Hurstgrove’s fingers dug deeper into her shoulders. “What should have happened the moment you spoke the Binding. I’m going to kiss you, then sink deep inside of you until you know exactly which brother you belong to.”

  Felicia sucked in a breath, her insides pulsing at his words.

  “It’s mating fever,” Sabelle murmured. “His instincts … He kissed you some days ago, sending his body into awareness. Once he spoke the Call, he became a ticking bomb.” Regret spread over her soft features. “Sorry. I should have realized …”

  That Hurstgrove would become sexually demanding? Felicia looked up into his blunt, dominating stare. He wanted her; he meant to take her.

  Ignoring her attraction was her best means of self-preservation. Two days ago, she could have. The past twenty-four hours had peeled back his layers, proving he was brave, committed, smart, self-sacrificing. Nothing like Alexei. After fleeing through the night with Hurstgrove, kissing him, Binding to him, something in her had changed. She’d cleaved to him in some way that had nothing to do with the words they’d exchanged and everything to do with her feelings for him. Knowing he’d visited a surrogate had ripped her open with a hurt she didn’t want to experience again. But if she refused him, she would.

  Doing without him now would hurt her more.

  Felicia rubbed at her forehead in confusion. For the first time, she was tempted to indulge in the heady rush of sensations and emotions coursing through her … even at the risk to her heart.

  Still, if his fixation with her faded, Hurstgrove could crush her. If? No, when. But what would happen if she rejected him now, didn’t seal this union? Mathias would find her and kill them both.

  “What happens now?” she whispered to the witch.

  Hurstgrove leaned closer until Felicia felt the heat of his body pouring off in waves. A drumbeat of desire pounded inside her. “Buckle up, Sunshine. I plan to strip you bare and taste you, before I sink my cock inside you, so deep for so long, you won’t remember ever being without me.”

  Felicia’s desire ramped up viciously.

  “It’s a fever. It will pass,” Sabelle assured. “If you don’t want this, I’ll call my Aunt Millie. She can sedate him. She’ll only need to keep him under for a few weeks. A month at most.”

  A month! Everything inside her rebelled against that. It was too cruel. And too dangerous.

  Hurstgrove had risked everything to save her, done his best to respect her boundaries, even allowing himself to sink into this fever, rather than press her. Even now, with every muscle taut and trembling, he restrained himself, awaiting her reply.

  “If we don’t sedate him?” She heard her own voice shake.

  Sabelle hesitated, looking as if she was deciding how to break bad news.

  Having no such qualms, Hurstgrove gripped Felicia’s chin and forced her to meet his gaze. “There isn’t anything or anyone that will stop me from taking you in every way I possibly can, every moment of every day, until you know you’re mine.”

  Sabelle nodded. “That sums it up.”

  Felicia’s belly flipped over. Did the man have any idea that the utter possession in his words were a blowtorch to the ice around her heart?

  But, a voice whispered, how long could that devotion last, especially when magic didn’t truly bind them together? When he didn’t actually love her for her?

  “Felicia?” Face tense, eyes burning, Hurstgrove demanded an answer.

  The way he said her name turned her knees liquid. Then he cradled her head in a desperate grip and leaned closer, hot breath fanning over her lips. His male, musky scent shot a million tingles through her.

  She’d never felt as alive as she did right now.

  “Should I call for Millie?” Sabelle raised a golden brow.

  She had to decide. Here. Now. Say no and protect her heart—or embrace the frightening, burgeoning feelings she had for Hurstgrove, knowing that, once done, he would have more power to hurt her than she’d ever allowed any man?

  Felicia licked her lips and stared. Her heart seized, then thumped wildly in her chest. She knew the answer to her question.

  “I won’t need Millie.”

  “Good choice.” Sabelle smiled, then slipped out.

  Before the door closed behind the witch, Hurstgrove gripped Felicia tighter, shaking with restraint. His touch seared her. “Be very sure. The fever is strong. Once I start …”

  He wouldn’t be able to stop.

  It was mad, but deep down, that fact thrilled her. It was probably foolish, but she wanted him to want her more than he could bear. She wanted him to ache and need—and take her as though he couldn’t get enough. As though everything between them was real and lasting. Because she felt all those things as well.

  So dangerous …

  Felicia met his dark stare. “I’m sure.”

  She’d been trying to suppress her feelings for Hurstgrove since the moment they met. Hour by hour, he’d crept deeper into her thoughts, burrowing into some corner of her heart. Spending another minute denying the fact that she needed to feel him wasn’t possible. This once, she would give herself to him completely.

  Without warning, he growled again and lifted her, wrapping her legs around his waist. Felicia had no opportunity to react before he covered her mouth with his. Single-minded and savage, he kissed her, his lips raking over her own, pressing, demanding that she open to him. The second she did, he barged in, sinking deep. His rich taste intoxicated her, flooding her senses, bursting her need wide open.

  As desire bombarded her, she curled her fingers through his silky hair, pulling him closer. She met every thrust of his tongue, every silent demand for more, with one of her own.

  Gripping her hips, he prodded her against his erection and crossed the room. The friction had her gasping into their endless kiss.

  A second later, he backed her against the stone wall, then crushed her breasts against his hard chest. Felicia arched to him. He took all she offered and more, his mouth hungry, decimating hers, before nipping his way across her jaw, down her neck. She gasped under the gentle yet rough scrapes of his teeth and the insistence of his hot and hungry lips. Tingles burst and scattered through her body.

  What had ever felt so perfect?

  Slowly, Hurstgrove set her on her feet and tore off his shirt. She shivered under his broiling stare. Built lean and muscled, his chest, shoulders, and arms all bulged, hard and so very male. Restlessly, Felicia shifted and pressed her thighs tightly together, but that only deepened her ache. She’d never imagined this kind of desire, like something out of a movie, never believed it could chip away at her resistance, obliterating all but the need to connect completely with him.

  Hurstgrove reached for her shirt and unfastened the top button before she could blink. Her heart, already tripping into overdrive, revved up more as he quickly plucked away the rest.

  When the last of her buttons came free and he shoved the garment from her shoulders with impatient hands, her need surged.

  His stare flared and darke
ned as he fixated on her white lace bra. He fisted his hands. Hesitated.

  A terrible thought occurred to Felicia, and she swallowed down fear. “You … don’t like—”

  God, why humiliate herself by asking if she wasn’t as sexy as he’d imagined? He’d had sex with so many women. Actresses, models, beauties both human and magical. How could she compete?

  Felicia scrambled for her shirt and covered herself. With a growl, Hurstgrove ripped the garment from her grasp. As her chest rose and fell with sharp, anxious breaths, she felt more exposed than ever.

  “Don’t like what I see? Is that what you think?” His eyes narrowed, his voice was like a whip.

  “I, um …” She exhaled, shuddering to momentary silence. “Yes.”

  “You’re mad, Sunshine. I’m trying to figure out how I can sate my immense need for you without utterly terrifying you. You’re already apprehensive.”

  Yes, but not for the reason he imagined. His seduction wasn’t too much. Her feelings for him were.

  “I’ve never felt anything like this,” she admitted with a trembling voice.

  He froze. “Like what?”

  “This … consuming desire.” She bit her lip, struggling with the next words. “I don’t know how to fight it.”

  “I couldn’t from the moment I met you.”

  His words took her breath. Leaning forward, she pressed her mouth to his lightly. Then a bit harder. Hurstgrove braced himself against the wall, knuckles white, shaking with the effort to remain still and allow her to lead at her own pace. His trembling told Felicia that such restraint cost him deeply. Her heart flipped all over again.

  With every touch, their connection deepened, their desire grew.

  Taking her hair in his fists, he thrust her head back and sank into her mouth, turning the kiss into a ravaging that left her breathless. Felicia shivered as he delved deep, his hands roaming her bare shoulders, her back, before settling on the fastening of her bra. In the next second, it gave way and met her shirt on the floor.

  Cold air and his hot stare grazed her nipples. Hurstgrove gazed in wonder, as if he found her the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. As if he couldn’t hold out another second.

  “Felicia.” He cupped one mound in his hot palm, thumbing the stiff peak, and she gasped at the hot rain of sensation. His touch heated her skin, raising the fever, before his mouth settled over her and he sucked hard.

  With a gasp, she arched toward him, clutching his hard, bulging shoulders to keep him near.

  Quickly, he shifted to her other breast, captured it between his lips, sucked, nipped. The need expanded, jettisoning her remaining worry and thought.

  She moaned. The ache inside pressed down on her, demanding not just sex, but him. All of him. A dangerous yearning to share her mind and heart, her fears and tomorrows with him invaded her, frighteningly strong. He was alluring, potent. Forbidden.

  Panting with each breath, Felicia eased his zip down, shoving his trousers away with desperate fingers. She wrapped her hand around his erection and stroked down his length, gratified when he groaned long and loud.

  Dear God, he was hard. And big. Soon, he’d be inside her, cementing the bond she knew she shouldn’t want but could no longer deny.

  With a tortured groan, Hurstgrove grabbed her wrists. “I’m trying to go slow, love you the way you deserve. You’re killing my good intentions.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t need them. Just you.”

  Black eyes scanned her, nostrils flaring. With a muffled curse, he lifted her and pushed her to the couch, tossing aside the decorative pillows.

  He laid into her jeans, ripping them open with barely concealed violence, dragging them down her hips and to the floor.

  Felicia lay completely bare before him, desperate for his touch. Hurstgrove’s smoldering stare said he’d never wanted anyone half so much as he wanted her now.

  She knew better than to hope that would be true forever.

  He covered her body with his. Feverish skin seared her as he kissed his way down her neck and sucked ravenously at her nipples, tightening that invisible vise inside her. She moaned in surrender.

  Restlessly, he wended down her body, laying kisses on the underside of her breasts, over her abdomen. Felicia clutched his shoulders, her nails sinking into his skin as he circled her navel with his tongue, awakening nerve endings she hadn’t known existed.

  “That’s it, Sunshine. Dig those pretty little nails into me. Once I’m deep inside you, give me more of that. Promise me.”

  His words burned her to the core. “Yes.”

  With a faint smile of triumph, he wriggled his way lower. Felicia parted her thighs for him. Her head spun, dizzy with desire as his breath ruffled her damp curls. His intent became instantly clear.

  “Hurstgrove, I’ve never, um …”

  He froze and glared up at her. “It’s Simon. You’re going to say it. Scream it. Over and over as you come until you get it right.”

  Her belly rolled, dropped, even as her heart soared. She tried to rein it in. No such luck.

  “I’m not terribly orgasmic,” she admitted softly.

  “You are now.”

  His scorching hands pressed her thighs wider. The muscles stretched for him, a sweet ache. She trembled as he lowered his head, nipping at her thighs, trailing his tongue over her hip, awakening so many nerve endings.

  Restlessly, she lifted to him in a silent plea. He gripped her hips in his hands and held her down. “Oh, I’m going to taste you. The scent of your arousal has driven me mad since last night.”

  He’d smelled her? Before she could process that, he trailed his fingers through her slit, groaning when he encountered her slick flesh. She gasped as sensation and ache coiled tight right where he touched.

  “So wet,” he praised, brushing a finger over her clit.

  She gasped, tensed. With a smile, he repeated the movement, pressing harder, circling, lingering. Blood roared in her ears. Then he added his tongue to the mix, laving the little bud, sucking it into his mouth, swirling around until her entire body shook.

  Felicia shifted restlessly, mewling, drowning in their connection as it deepened and rushed over each of her senses. With a hungry touch, he caressed her as if he knew precisely what she wanted. She responded with abandon.

  The pressure rose. And the pleasure. Dizziness assailed her as he worked his tongue and fingers in an insistent rhythm that had her gasping. Pleasure ran liquid through her veins, tightening until the explosion seemed but a breath away.

  He turned ravenous, sucking her clit into his mouth. His fingers scraped a sensitive spot deep inside. Felicia hadn’t thought it possible, but pleasure climbed again, teetering dangerously on the edge of something wonderful. She raced for it, straining. So close …

  Suddenly, Hurstgrove eased back. “When you climax, scream my name.”

  “Others will hear,” she protested.

  “Then they’ll know who you belong to, just as you should. Tonight, tomorrow. Always.”

  Possession rang in his tone, infusing her with both joy and panic. In his mind, this wasn’t a one-time event. He meant to take her body again and again.

  And her heart, as well.

  Dread and insidious joy infused her at once. “No. This is … It’s just once.”

  He speared her with a scorching stare. “Like hell.”

  Before she could say another word, he slid his tongue over her again, augmenting the sensation with teasing brushes of his fingers. He read her body like a book, knew exactly what she needed and when.

  Her head told her that she should be objecting. This hedonistic devouring went beyond mere sex. Exposing her need down to its raw core wasn’t necessary. He made her toes curl, her muscles strain. He kept her on the edge, never applying enough friction to send her hurtling into ecstasy. She let out a keening cry.

  “Scream for me,” he whispered, his fingertips circling her clit. “My name. Not Hurstgrove, not Duke. My first name on your
sweet lips.”

  Felicia grabbed blindly for the couch cushions. Her heart wanted to open to him, shouted at her to comply. But she was so afraid of how easily he could crush her.

  “What—ooohhh!” She melted at his next touch, then forced herself back on task. “What are you about? Let’s—oh dear God!” Felicia struggled against the pleasure. “Get on with it.”

  Hurstgrove bared his teeth in a snarl. “I am your mate, ready to claim you in every way. We’ll ‘get on with it’ when you surrender to me.”

  Before she could reply, he eased his fingers back inside her, skillfully rousing her even more with a deft thumb.

  “Oh!” She tossed her head back, legs splaying wider, as pleasure bathed her.

  “That’s it. I’ll give you everything you need as soon you open your heart. No more hiding. No more artificial barriers. I won’t have your guilt or fear between us.”

  “I am afraid.” She sobbed out, the razor edge of pleasure and anxiety welling up inside her, forging something so big, she thought her chest might burst.

  “Trust me,” he panted. “Scream my name. I won’t let you down.”

  God, how badly she wanted to believe that.

  As if he considered the matter settled, he lowered his mouth to her again, laving, lingering. Pleasure skyrocketed. Blood rushed, roared, filling her head as her heart pounded, loud and unrelenting. Thump, thump, thump.

  Felicia’s defenses melted beneath his onslaught, and she gripped his shoulders. Against her logic, her heart softened, her soul opened. And her surrender unfurled, leaving her exposed, vulnerable. There wasn’t a damn thing she could do to stop him from filling all those empty places inside her as the pleasure crashed over her.

  “Simon!!!” she screamed long and loud, her nails deep in his shoulders.

  Her entire body convulsed as ecstasy rolled through her, raining fire on her, sealing something between them.

  Was escaping with her heart unscathed even possible now?

  Duke slammed his eyes shut. Careful, he reminded himself. He couldn’t just slam into her as he so desperately wanted. It wouldn’t serve his purpose. He must tie her to him using every weapon he had. Overcome whatever fear she had of him, men, and love. It was time.