Alphas After Dark (9 Book Bundle of Sexy Alpha Biker Bad Boys)

by Vivian Arend

  “And you think I won’t be able to protect you?” His blue eyes flashed, and he pulled her to him, holding her so tightly, her lungs strained to draw in a breath. “I swear before all the gods that I’ll never let anyone harm you. I love you, Sexta.”

  Those last four words were like a dagger to her heart, sharp and piercing. An earthquake of a sweet ache followed, knocking her off her feet and into his embrace. No man had ever said such a thing to her, and yet with Marcus, she knew that he believed it with every ounce of his being.

  For now, anyway.

  “You shouldn’t have said that,” she whispered.

  “But I did. And I know somewhere deep inside, you feel the same way. I just need to help you see past all the excuses you keep giving me, starting now.”

  He kissed her again, this time with a slow, sensual quality that stoked the fires burning inside her heart. This was not the kiss of a man who simply wanted to bed her like so many other men had. This was the kiss of a man who wanted more than just her body. This was the kiss of a man who yearned to know the secrets of her heart and to build a place for himself there.

  The trouble was, he already had.

  Sexta surrendered to him one more time, wrapping her arms around his neck and threading her fingers through his hair. She kissed him back with the passion she’d kept buried inside for so long. Her pulse throbbed in time with the fireworks exploding overhead. She lost herself in the dreamy haze of his touch as his callused hands roamed over her bare arms and unfastened the pin holding her dress together.

  The chill of the night air puckered her nipples as Marcus pulled back the silk covering her breasts, contrasting sharply with the warmth of his mouth as he pulled one of them into it. His tongue swirled around the taut peak like a starving man removing the last traces of honey from her skin. A feral growl of need rose from his throat just before he caught it between his teeth.

  Sexta sucked in a hissed breath. The sweet pleasure-pain in her breasts was nothing compared to the ache building between her legs. She might have been drunk the one time Marcus had lured her into his bed, but she vividly remembered how good he felt inside her, how each exquisite stroke brought her closer to the most exhilarating orgasm she’d ever experienced. Would it be like that again? Would she lose herself in the bliss of coming in his arms and forget about the dozens of things that would keep them apart? Would she lie beside him, sated and irrational, and consider a future with him afterward?

  Marcus lifted her up onto the table, his hands wandering along her thighs and inching closer to her sex. “Please,” he begged.

  And like a fool, she opened her legs and drew him closer.

  He lifted his tunic up to expose his cock and slid into her with agonizing slowness, stretching the inner walls of her sex with his thickness. His breath entered through his teeth with a hiss, and a shudder rattled through him. “You feel even better than I remember.”

  She purred in agreement before she started rocking her hips back and forth, grinding against him so his cock rubbed against the sensitive spot inside her. Now it was her turn to beg. “Please, Marcus, don’t stop.”

  “I have no intention of doing so.” His grin widened as he drew back and plunged into her again. “I’m not going to stop until I prove to you how good we are together.”

  His strokes quickened until he found a rhythm that tightened the coiling tension in her womb. His lips captured hers in kiss after kiss, straying every once and a while to the erogenous zones on her body he’d mapped out long ago. The place behind her ear. The junction of her neck and shoulder. The small notch at the base of her throat. He knew her better than any of her prior lovers.

  She held him close, inhaling his masculine scent just before every whispered encouragement. She roamed her hands over his chest and back, tracing the outlines of his lean muscles and cursing the layers of linen and silk covering them. When his lips strayed from hers, she tasted the salt of his skin on his temple, along his earlobe, his cheek. Every touch, every kiss, every thrust drew her closer and closer to the brink until she could no longer resist.

  His name fell from her lips as she came. A heartbeat of weightlessness encapsulated her before the first rush of bliss slammed into her and dragged her under. Her vision blurred, and her muscles refused to follow her commands. She was drowning in the ecstasy of his arms, and she never wanted to surface again.

  Marcus gave her one final thrust before his whole body tightened. “I love you, Sexta,” he repeated before collapsing under the blow of his own release.

  She squeezed her legs around his waist to keep him from falling to his knees and cradled his face in her hands, their foreheads touching. The boundaries between them faded until they were almost one entity. Her breathing returned to normal and flowed in time with his. When her fingers grazed the pulse throbbing along his neck, her heart beat to the same rhythm as his. And when she looked into his eyes, all she saw was his love for her.

  “See how good we are together?” he asked, the corner of his mouth rising.

  And all she could do was nod.

  “Then come with me. We can sail away on my ship, explore the empire, leave behind this place and the ghosts that haunt you. We can build our own future, just the two of us.”

  His plea tugged at her heart until it was left raw with grief. He made it sound so simple. But she knew it could never be that easy to slough off her past and start anew. She’d always worry he’d cast her aside when he’d had his pleasure from her, just as her prior lovers had done. To be completely free, she needed to end this life. And part of that meant saying good-bye to him.

  She gave him a final kiss before pushing him away. “You’re a dreamer, Marcus, and you almost had me convinced it would work.”

  “It will work.”

  She responded with a sad chuckle and rose from the table, refastening her dress and smoothing out her skirts. She’d indulged in her fantasy world long enough. It was time to remind Marcus of the harsh reality, starting with the nature of her profession. “Maybe one day, but for now, I need to go downstairs and tend to my clients.”

  His face hardened, and jealousy flashed in his eyes. He stood and straightened his tunic. “So it’s back to business as usual, is that it?”

  “I have to make enough money to provide for me and my slaves, and it looks like it will be a slower than usual night.” She inwardly winced at the necessary coldness of her next words. “It’s the only reason why I had time to dally with you.”

  They had just the effect she’d intended. His eyes widened, and he stumbled back. “Dally with me?”

  The vise around her heart squeezed even tighter, bringing tears to her eyes.

  Remember, this is for your own good.

  And his.

  She swallowed hard and struggled to keep her expression as cold as her words. “Well, yes, what else would you call it? After all, you did just enjoy my services free of charge.”

  “Free of charge?” he repeated, his voice still registering his shock. Then it finally hit home, and his sensuous lips curled into a snarl. “I tell you that I love you, and all you can say is that you were kind enough to give me a free fuck?”

  She lifted her chin even though she was dying inside. “Do I need to ask Djer to escort you off the premises?”

  “Don’t bother.” He reached into the pouch hanging from his belt and slammed a few coins on the table. “That should be more than enough to cover your services.”

  It was safer to stare at the money than at him. Don’t give in. Don’t apologize. Let him hate you. Let him see you as the whore you are, and he’ll move on to someone who deserves him.

  And I won’t end up losing what’s left of my heart to the one man who could destroy it.

  “I’ll let myself out.” He stormed off, the set of his shoulders radiating his anger.

  It wasn’t until the sound of his footsteps faded that she let her tears go. She collapsed onto the chair beside the table and buried her face in her hands. The tea
rs turned into gut-wrenching sobs, each one squeezing regret from her heart. If things had been different, she could’ve allowed herself to love him in return. And maybe part of her already did. After all, wasn’t it an act of love to let him go?

  “Is everything all right, my lady?” Djer called from the stairs.

  Sexta managed to stop crying before her former slave appeared on the roof. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hands. “Yes, Djer, I’m fine.”

  He stopped a few feet away and gave her a sad smile. “He got to you again, didn’t he?”

  “Hopefully for the last time.” She blotted the remaining wetness on her cheek with a swath of fabric from her dress. “How is it downstairs?”

  “Slow, just as you said it would be.”

  When her mother had died and left her the lupanar, Sexta had freed several of the most loyal slaves like Djer. Most had chosen to find their own paths, but the muscular Alpirion had remained in her service, working his same job as one of the guards protecting the women inside. He’d been charged with keeping her safe since she’d come of age, and now she counted him among one of the few people she trusted.

  She stood and tucked the stray lock of her hair back into place. “Then it should be a perfect night to set our plan into motion.”

  He arched one brow. “The ship’s ready?”

  She nodded. “I just received word from Numicius this evening. Have you assembled a crew for me?”

  “The best men I could find. I’ll send messengers telling them to prepare it for departure.”

  “Excellent.” Finalizing the details of her long-anticipated escape was just the distraction she needed after breaking Marcus’s heart. If everything went to plan, he’d maybe mourn her for a month or so and move on.

  The glint of the coins on the table flashed under the light of the brazier, and she winced again. He was no different than the others. They’d courted her, promised her the stars and the moon if she agreed to become their mistress, only to return her to her mother once they’d tired of her. Marcus was the only one who said he’d loved her, but how different was he when it came down to being tested?

  The ugly truth stared back at her from the table.

  She closed her eyes for a moment before she turned around. “We need to make sure all the clients have left two hours before dawn.”

  “I’ll let the other guards know.”

  “And do we have enough money and necklaces for the girls?” She’d hesitated to free all but a few of the female slaves after her mother had died. So many Alpirion women ended up back in the lupanari after gaining their freedom, having no other means to support themselves. She wanted to make sure that when she gave her slaves the piece of golden jewelry that signified their freedom, she also gave them enough money to live comfortably without having to continue working as lupae.

  “Yes, and you’ve been more than generous. My sister has offered to help them transition to life as freed slaves.”

  “That was very kind of Baza.”

  “It’s her way of thanking you for her freedom.” He glanced around the garden. “Are you certain you want to burn this down?”

  She gulped and nodded again. It was the only way to completely sever her ties with her mother. To the rest of the empire, Sexta Lupanaeus would die tonight, and she’d create a new life for herself where she’d never have to sell her body again. “Have your men remove the final valuables before we trigger the fire.”

  “Yes, my lady. I’ll direct the house slaves to discreetly pack them now. Anything else?”

  “I’ll need a glass of pomrutin tea.” The bitter brew would keep her from conceiving. She gathered her skirt into her fist as a whisper of doubt plagued her. “Please tell me you think this is a good idea.”

  Djer took a step toward her, a sympathetic smile on his lips, but still kept a respectable distance. “I wouldn’t have agreed to it if I thought otherwise, my lady.”

  “Thank you.” Sexta drew in a deep breath and let it feed the shimmer of hope hiding inside her bruised heart. “By tomorrow, all of this will be behind us, and we’ll be sailing the open skies.”

  And maybe I can forget about how perfect things might have been with Marcus, if only for a few months.

  CHAPTER TWO

  TEN MONTHS LATER

  Marcus pressed his hand against the bronze plate that controlled the locks to the emperor’s private quarters. The action triggered the familiar nag in his left shoulder. The puckered scar that snaked along his skin from his neck to his upper arm may have looked completely healed, but he still hadn’t regained full use of his arm after the injury three months ago.

  “Wait up!” Rufius called from the opposite doorway. The former soldier jogged to him and cocked a brow. “He sent for you, too?”

  Marcus gritted his teeth and nodded. Until recently, Marcus had always been the one Titus had turned to when he needed something investigated. But after his arm had been injured during a raid of an illegal shipment of ore, the emperor had been forced to recruit new spies like Rufius. He opened the door and let Rufius enter the hallway leading to Titus’s room. “And here I was hoping the empire would let Empress Azurha deliver in peace.”

  “Nah, just leave it to one of those arrogant Deizians to do something to mar the celebration.” The Elymanian cracked his knuckles as though he was preparing to plunge into the fray, reminding Marcus that he’d made a career in the army before being pulled in to spy for the emperor two months ago. He may have let his brown hair grow past regulation length, but the man was still as well-muscled and built for battle as he’d been in uniform.

  “I have a feeling it’s something more serious if he’s sent for both of us.”Or maybe he doubts my abilities since my accident.

  He was the first to admit he’d been careless in the moments leading up to his injury. But ever since Sexta had died in a fire the night of Titus’s wedding, he’d had trouble finding any joy in life. His last words to her haunted him day and night. If he had a chance to go back and do that night over again, he would’ve thrown her over his shoulder and carried her back to his ship, keeping her there in his arms until she finally agreed to stay with him.

  He pushed his grief away and pressed the lock pad outside of Titus’s room. He couldn’t live in the past. He needed to focus on the present.

  His best friend was bent over his desk, shuffling through papers, but turned around as they entered. Emperor Titus Sergius Flavus was the very model of a Deizian ruler. Tall and blond with the distinctive blue eyes that only those of Deizian blood had, he was determined to usher in a new age of change to the empire, starting by marrying his true love, an Alpirion woman who’d been born a slave.

  But then, Azurha was anything but a simple Alpirion. She was the Rabbit, the deadliest assassin in the empire. Even her marriage to the emperor had done little to dull her reputation. She appeared from the doorway of their bedroom, her belly swollen with child, watching them with those unusual teal-colored eyes that marked her as a wa’ai. To the Alpirions, she was both feared and worshiped for the magical power she wielded, but to Marcus, she was a blessing who had come into his best friend’s life and saved Titus in more than one way.

  Titus gave them a tight smile that belied the worry in his face. “That was quick.”

  Rufius bowed. “You send for us, and we come running, Emperor Sergius.”

  Marcus pulled up a chair and straddled it, not bothering with the formalities Rufius chose to employ. He’d known Titus since they were infants. They were as tight as brothers, calling each other by their praenomens when most people were terrified to address the emperor without using his title and nomen. “What’s happened?”

  “This.” Titus handed him a report, his face sober. “Shalfak has been attacked, its citizens gone.”

  “Attacked? By what?” Rufius came over and read the report over his shoulder.

  The strange and alarming details of the trading post along the Barrier in southern Alpiria seemed to be something from a drug
-induced nightmare. What had once been a vibrant and bustling town was completely desolated. “Did they find any bodies?”

  “No, and that’s what bothers me.” Azurha joined her husband, her movements lacking some of their catlike grace this late in her pregnancy. “If it had been a raid by the Alpirion rebels, they would’ve left the bodies to rot in the sun as a way to desecrate their enemies.”

  A shiver coursed down Marcus’s spine. According to the report, there was minimal damage to the buildings to suggest there had been a huge battle. A plague would have left behind bodies. That only left one option in his mind. “Barbarians?”

  The imperial couple exchanged glances before Titus spoke. “The thought has crossed our minds, but the barrier has been at full strength since Galerius and Claudia destroyed Hostilius’s device.”

  “Hey, don’t forget about me.” Rufius puffed out his chest. “I was there, too, you know.”

  “I haven’t,” Titus replied. “Nor have I forgotten that you were stationed at Shalfak for two years. Why do you think I asked you to be part of this investigation?”

  Marcus released a soft, one-note laugh and handed the papers to Rufius. Titus never missed a thing. The man had spent many hours in his youth with his nose buried in a book, but now, that knowledge was paying off. “And where do I fit into this?”

  “I want the two of you to go there and look for an explanation of what happened. The report here is brief at best because the merchant who supplied it thought the town was cursed.”

  “And probably wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible.” Marcus craned his neck over to read who supplied the information and immediately recognized the source as Vibius, a superstitious sailor who never left port if there was a red sky in the morning. “I’m not surprised he’s worried about a curse.”

  Rufius shuffled through the papers and pointed to a line. “This is strange. It says here there were no other ships at the port.”