Into His Dark

by Angel Payne

  He cut me short by pulling my hair. With his fresh angle on my exposed neck, he bit down again. I gasped in anticipation—but broke into a wail, instead. Was he going for king of the vampires as well as Arcadia tonight? “Tit for tat, little lightning,” he rumbled. “You show me no mercy with your mouth, I show you no mercy with mine.”

  Two can play, Your Majesty. Two. Can. Play. “Now show me no mercy with your cock.”

  He moaned. Moved his bite-fest to the bottom of my ear. “Ruthless enchantress.”

  “With a pussy that’s shivering.” I lifted my legs, wrapping around his waist. “Needing you. Dripping for you.” I snuck in a hot lick across his Adam’s Apple. “Evrest…I’m so damn close…” It wasn’t too far off the truth. “And I’m so damn wet…”

  “And I’m so damn—”

  “No. Don’t!” The new reverence in his tone had given up his game—and thank God for it. Leaving him behind after this was already going to be damn near impossible. If he gave me those words on top of it, he’d cripple me. Worse. I’d be without bones, period. The structure of my life wouldn’t just be in shambles. The structure of me would be. “Show it to me, instead,” I pleaded, failing abysmally at keeping the sob out of it. “Give it all to me with your body. Please. Please!”

  He barely let me get the last of it out before melding our mouths once more, sucking my tongue inside him before letting me have it back, coated in his heady taste. Oh, hell. Shivers and quakes, then hardly recovering in the moments he pulled back just enough to utter three coarse words.

  “Creator help me.”

  Then I knew—knew—what he meant by truly taking me.

  The erection that had first rendered me awestruck? I thought my body knew what the full force of it felt like by now. Between one thrust and the next, he rendered me wrong. Really wrong. My teeth knocked as he plunged deep,

  deeper,

  deeper,

  pushing, straining, opening…

  marking, hurting…fucking.

  Words fell from him, unintelligible but clearly nasty. I returned the same in sighs and cries, surrendering to his consummation. With every thrust he became more primal, even his words giving way to the growls of his purest lust. The sounds pulled more pins from my own control. As they filled my head, they turned my body into liquid. I was certain I’d never ridden a wave of arousal so far before. It brought on a strange predicament.

  Don’t let it end.

  Oh God, I need to come.

  But he burned even those words away, turning my whole body into a lava flow, consumed from the inside out by his power, his heat, his force. My arms slackened, falling away from him, tumbling to the pillows over my head. The second they hit, Evrest locked down, pinning me by the wrists before pumping even harder. I let my head jack back too, clenching my teeth to prevent myself from giving us away to the whole damn camp.

  “Yes?” He panted it against the column of my neck.

  “Yes.” I gasped it into the darkness. So good. This was so damn good. My thighs trembled. My ass convulsed. And the tunnel he filled…pulsing pressure, building, burning…needing to release…needing…

  “Give it to me, sevette. All of it.”

  My orgasm didn’t bother sneaking up on me. It burst in with violence and light, C-4 to my senses, exploding, imploding, razing everything in its path, white-hot demolition until I shuddered and screamed from the impact. But Evrest was there, absorbing the sound with his mouth, letting me cry into him—before thrusting it back into me with a vicious groan as his body tautened and stopped, a solid band of ecstasy. When he snapped, scorching me deep with the flood of his seed, I moaned in rapture, welcoming every drop.

  We’d ridden the wind together…to the stars. It took a long time to find the earth again. I wasn’t complaining. Didn’t think he did, either. During the descent, Evrest turned the connection of our mouths into long, tender kisses. Released my wrists, only to keep sliding his touch up and down the lengths of my arms. Kept his sex inside mine, protecting the heat he’d brought…maintaining the seal of our dark dream for just a few minutes longer.

  I needed it to be hours. Days.

  Longer.

  Forever.

  Stop it.

  I backed up the thought with a grimace. Should’ve known Evrest would not only read it but counter it with a soft, lingering kiss. “My first,” he finally whispered. “And always my best.”

  My adorable—and observant—hunk. By being the tender one, he let me be the snarky one. “That’s a mighty significant promise, pard’nah.”

  “Everything has been significant since you got here, Camellia.”

  I looked away. Not even snark could help how that one punched in, tearing at too many corners of my soul.

  At the same moment, his body slipped out of mine. Lovely. Karma had gotten in her little joke after all.

  Hard swallow. It lodged at the bottom of my throat, not such a bad thing. Focusing on the pain helped me keep the tears back—at least until Evrest rolled to his side, pulling me around with him, until we were face-to-face on the same pillow. His gaze, like the Northern Lights in the dimness, pierced me. His fingers, strong and adoring, brushed the hair from my face.

  Hard swallow. Again. Tight breath. Snark, don’t fail me now. “Okay, not-so-virgin boy, let me enlighten you about how this part of things goes.”

  The hills and valleys of his lips undulated into a smirk. “Hmmm. This should be interesting.”

  “Not really. Just the basics. Number one, I’m really not required to spend the rest of the night.”

  He scowled. “In my bed, you are.”

  “You’re breaking the rules.”

  One eyebrow cocked up. Really, sevette? You are going there now, with me? “Move on.”

  Sexiest growl I’d ever heard from him. Arguing was going to be impossible. “Fine. Second point is more important, anyhow.”

  “Which would be?”

  “You have to say something really asshat-ish now.”

  Both brows jumped now. “What?”

  “Yeah. Come on, it’ll be fun. I’m sure you’ve heard a few of the classics already. ‘This was great, but I have an early meeting’. Or maybe, ‘Can I get your number? I’ll call; I promise’.” I forced a game smile. “Okay, your turn.”

  Hell. He searched every inch of my face as if I’d told him I had Ebola, instead. Then again, as if praying the force of his gaze could heal me.

  “Stay here, Camellia. With me.”

  I made a game show buzzing noise. “That wasn’t asshat. Not even a bit. Please try again, sir.”

  He kissed me. No tongue, but it fried every cell in my bloodstream, anyway. After pulling away, he rasped again, “Stay.”

  Intense, amazing man. “Fine. You win. We still have a couple of hours. I can sneak out right before dawn, and—”

  He silenced me with another kiss. Like before, no tongue. Also like before, blazing bloodstream. Not like before: prickled suspicion. Then cresting awareness.

  Ohhh, my God.

  “You mean…stay here? In Arcadia? When everyone else leaves?”

  Every inch of his face was a steady affirmation. “With me. For me.”

  I shifted to my back. Whoa. Hell. I needed some space. Maybe a lot of it. “As…what? Not your queen, right? You still have to pick her out from the lineup back at the palais.” Now down by two. I thought of Novah, hoping she and Enock were into double-digits on the reunion sex orgasm count by now. I didn’t spare a single thought for Chianna.

  More solemnity rolled off him, deepening the confusion for me. And the heartache. “So I’d be your mistress?”

  He continued to meet my gaze—but he didn’t deny the accusation. “I will not insult you, Camellia. You must know I am not the only king who has been in this situation.”

  I twisted on him, yanking the sheet across my chest. Gave me something to form a fist around. “Yeah? And how many of your ancestors proposed opening the borders of the country to a world where go
ssip travels the world in three seconds then goes viral in an hour?”

  “The Internet is new but discretion is not.” He reached for my free hand. “The family owns a villa under another name in a little town south of Sancti. The property is large and the beach is private—”

  “Nothing is private.” I jerked back. Bolted from the bed altogether, dragging the sheet with me. “You don’t get to have ‘private’ anymore, Evrest.”

  He was shockingly undaunted. “We would only have to be careful for a few years—”

  “A few years?”

  “But we could see each other every day. You are so skillful at so many things. You can work at the palais, in the offices with me. Fascha already confessed how much she likes you—and I know everyone else will, too.”

  For a long moment, I could only gape. I wanted derision to be my pal right now, maybe bring along a bag full of insulted for the ride—but this was one of those moments where the sheltered king and the sexy wolf bashed each other. He truly saw nothing wrong with what he proposed. Hope actually tugged the edges of his lips.

  “No,” I finally murmured. “No, Evrest, I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  Thank God he pushed. At least I could grab at some irritation. “Because in everyone’s eyes, even Fascha’s, I’d be your whore. You want to talk about the raised eyebrows when we go into a ‘closed door meeting’?”

  He bounded from the bed now, too. Stalked at me, all naked sinew and regal stealth, turning my throat dry yet my sex into a puddle. “I shall eviscerate anyone who calls you a whore.”

  “Then sharpen your knife and get ready for the bloodbath, because the whole country will be on that bandwagon.”

  Should’ve thought that one through a little more. It only fueled his advance. But I wasn’t thinking right now. At all.

  “Camellia—”

  “Don’t.” I flung up both hands. “Please don’t.” If he came any closer, he’d snap me again. I’d snap him. He’d already smashed one vow because of me. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—let him shatter anything more.

  “Camellia.”

  “I won’t do it, Evrest.” I blinked against the tears on my lashes, turning into rivers down my cheeks. “You were born to be a great king. You will be a great king. I refuse to be the bruise that ruins your reign.”

  “Bruise?” It choked out of him like a gust of grief. “How can you—”

  “Because it’s the truth—and in your gut, you know it as well as I do.”

  “Dammit!” His eyes flashed fire. His teeth bared white. “I’m in love with you!”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  ‡

  My eyes slammed shut. That only made the tears heavier, bursting past their trembling dams, rushing over my twisted lips.

  Hell.

  He’d said it. Smashed open every Pandora’s Box of conflict in my heart in the doing, too. Declaring total surprise would’ve been a lie. Half of me had already steeled myself for it, though it hardly made the agony of answering any easier.

  “I’m in love with you, too.”

  So…there. We’d done it.

  Shit.

  I closed the space between us with three slow steps. Reached a hand up to caress his perfect jaw. There was no reason to keep him at a distance anymore. Even if we jumped back into bed and he sank his sex inside mine again, the great wall we’d just stacked and sealed would still be there, looming between us. This connection we could no longer hide…this love we could no longer deny.

  But had to. Somehow.

  Somehow.

  The options for that definition were very slim. As I stood on tiptoe to brush Evrest’s lips with mine, I’d already made the choice. The best one—no matter how it gashed my heart apart like razor blades. His composure, ramrod stiff and ominously quiet, proved he’d stabbed a guess at my decision, too.

  I forced myself to whisper it aloud, anyway.

  “I love you, Evrest Cimarron…which is why I have to leave you.”

  *

  Damn the dawn.

  It came too soon, stabbing through the tent walls, breaking into the hours we spent lying in each other’s arms, simply staring… savoring… memorizing. I promised to post regular pictures to my Facebook page. He promised to let the paparazzi get a good candid every now and then. We accepted the words for the emptiness they were, knowing nothing would ever be like this. Knowing the hours of our time had slipped into minutes…

  the minutes into moments…

  the moments into a kiss.

  I stood in the center of the tent, staring at the shaft of light he’d stepped into after giving me that kiss. Pressing fingers to the lips that still vibrated from the desolate urgency of it. Fighting for air in the chest that had shut down as his lips took mine for the last time, unwilling to taint the moment even with breathing.

  There was just one catch to letting the air back in again.

  Doing so meant conceding to time once more. Admitting I had to move forward, step ahead—and yet back. To real life. To the rules. To the condo. To the job. To Faye.

  Maybe all of it was an “up” side. All of it was safe, familiar, what I knew—

  With the exception of one thing.

  I didn’t know me anymore.

  Or maybe, for the first time in my life, I actually did know her.

  Which was why I couldn’t move.

  One week. One man. Waking me up…in his darkness.

  Making me crumble in the emptiness of the light.

  My knees gave way as the tears fell, hard and huge. My chest heaved, a conveyor belt of stabs and sobs. I pushed a fist against it, fighting to rub out the pain. Useless. So was the palm against my head, fighting the pressure there. Where was the instruction manual for this kind of sorrow? There had to be one, right? Filed in life’s “Heartbroken” section, subheading “Kings You Can’t Have”?

  I was lost. Helpless. This had to be the worst ugly cry of my life—

  Meaning, of course, that someone had to catch me in the middle of it.

  Silver lining? At least it wasn’t Chianna, though Harry definitely wouldn’t have been my go-to nom for the moment. Nevertheless, I was damn glad I’d thrown on some clothes before Evrest left—if the wrinkled T-shirt and khakis from my duffle still constituted clothes.

  “Hey.” His murmur was gentle, his touch equally so. “Cam…sweetie…”

  Past swollen eyes and tears, I realized he’d tossed down his satchel to kneel in front of me. When he tugged, offering his shoulder as a cry towel, I willingly fell against him, blurting the first things that sprang to mind. “Oh, shit. Oh, yuck. Oh, Harry…”

  He cradled the back of my head, muttering in resignation, “Damn. Yeah. This is a giant yuck.”

  He wanted to say more. I felt the words pushing at his chest, his throat. The I told you so practically hacking at him, righteous in its truth. But this week had changed him, too. Matured him to the point of even having a little class.

  I took the pressure off him, spilling it all myself. “You were right. All along. I broke the rules, big time. I couldn’t keep my hands off of Evrest Cimarron and now I’m paying the big-daddy penalty for it. I’m sorry, Harry. So damn sorry.”

  Lots of reactions scrolled my list of expectations. A sympathetic smile? Definitely not an odds leader. Yet there it was, lighting up his handsome features before he replied, “Funny. Evrest told me he was the one who couldn’t keep himself in check.”

  Snotty sniffle. Ew. I gratefully accepted a tissue from him. “He—he told you that?”

  “He told me everything.” He laughed when my eyes bugged. “Okay, revision. The cleaned-up version of everything. Chill, rock star. We didn’t ‘compare notes’ or anything. But there was a lot of time to kill between checking on you and keeping your parents updated.”

  “So you bonded by talking about me?”

  He shrugged. “Tried to wrangle him into a debate of Tarantino versus Ang Lee, but he preferred you.” Quick wink. “Imagine that.�
��

  My stunned stare didn’t falter, even after blowing my nose again. “And you’re—not pissed?”

  “Was at first. A whole damn lot. Especially when you played evasion tactics on me that night in the editing room.”

  I winced. “I know. And I am sorry.”

  “Accepted. Don’t lie to me again.”

  I nodded. We hugged. Hell, it felt good to really have the fog cleared between us again. “I went to him that night,” I offered. “And we agreed to douse the fire.”

  He snorted out a laugh. “Cam, the two of you are a couple of matchsticks on bone-dry kindling—in a Santa Ana wind storm.” His reference to Southern California’s brutal brushfire starters gave his words extra weight. “I knew it as soon as I saw you together in the back seat of the van.”

  I glared. “Come on. We weren’t that obvious.”

  He tapped at his temple. “Trained eye.”

  I relaxed the look, silently giving him the win. Trained eye. Well, no shit. His director’s perception had probably picked up on every glance, touch, and nuance between Evrest and me—during a thirty-minute car ride. And Evrest thought we could be “discreet” beneath paparazzi lenses for a few years?

  “He’s in love with you, Cam.”

  There wasn’t a shred of judgment in the statement. I smiled up at him with appreciation. “I know.”

  “You’re leaning in the same direction, aren’t you?”

  Bit lip. Massive effort to look away. How’s that for your trained eye, Mr. Dane? “You mean leaned. Yep. Hard. Knocked over the whole damn display while I was there.”

  His answering exhalation was heavy. “Glad I told Joel he might be inheriting your duties for good.”

  I locked my gaze back to his. Weird. Maybe my observational eye was off, but Harry seemed…discomfited. For enforcing his own rule?

  Hopefully, my smirk relaxed him. “Guess I owe Joel a shitload of wine when you all wrap, then.”