Rebel Obsession (All the King's Men)

by Donya Lynne

  Miriam practically gushed between her legs when he urged her to roll to her back a few minutes later. Her body was alive, and every nerve ending sizzled, her breath coming in heady, rapid pulses. She could hardly think, only feel, a bouquet of lusty impulses she only barely contained. Faint light and shadows played over them both, but she was sure if he turned on a lamp, her entire body would be flushed crimson with arousal.

  As if to punctuate her point, a soft purr lit in her chest, and she saw Io’s erection twitch at the sound.

  He bent over her body, doing to her front what he had done to her back, moving from her breasts to her stomach and still lower. He pointedly avoided the heart of her, but teased ruthlessly with his fingertips as she parted her legs for him. His strong hands kneaded her hips, her thighs, the insides her legs, and his fingertips grazed lightly down the junctures where her legs and torso met. Damn, Io had her lit up brighter than a spotlight, and just as fiery hot.

  When he urged her legs to part, she didn’t resist. She wasn’t even nervous. She was so hot for him nothing else mattered than getting him inside her. Now.

  He lowered himself between her legs and drew the tip of his tongue up her inner thigh.

  Jesus! Was he trying to kill her?

  He switched to the other leg, then back again, crawling ever higher. Was she even breathing? Everything centered around his tongue and the inch-by-inch upward journey it was making toward her quivering heat. His lips brushed further up, his tongue followed, his fingers teased, and her body tensed with what was sure to be an even more powerful orgasm than the one he’d given her yesterday.

  His mouth passed over her slit and just the feel of his breath on her clit nearly sent her into orgasm. Christ! A full body shudder quaked her, and she choked back a stifled groan. And still he refused to put his mouth directly on her core. His lips kissed from side-to-side, almost as if he was worshipping her. Each kiss drew closer…so close, ever closer, until finally….

  He closed his mouth over her swollen nub and licked just once, long and with a drawn-out exhale that sounded more like a sigh of relief.

  Head thrown back, eyes slammed shut, her fingers dug into the bed as she sucked in her breath. She was going to come. There was no stopping it.

  Io’s hands pressed against her inner thighs, holding her open, and his thumbs pulled her labia apart as he licked her again once more.

  She nearly blacked out from the force of her orgasm. Her entire body lifted off the bed as she blew apart, crying out.

  In an instant, he was above her, the head of his erection opening her as he pressed in. She felt a pinch, then tightness, and then his body was flush with hers. She was still in the throes of orgasm, coming against all his steely hardness. If anything, his hard presence served only to intensify her orgasm and she locked her arms around him and cried out again, quaking violently.

  “That’s my girl,” he said, grinding his pelvic bone against her clit. “That’s my baby.”

  Then he bit her, just sank his fangs right into her shoulder and rocked against her body as the venomous euphoria took her, making her come again as her body went all loosey-goosey and floating-on-a-sea-of-clouds relaxed. The pleasure of climaxing during venom euphoria was unreal, and Miriam could only choke out an abrupt gasp from the force of the sudden rapture.

  * * *

  Io had worked her into welcoming his body in the way he had learned ages ago. He hadn’t thought he would ever have need of the technique, but now he was grateful to have learned it. A female’s first time could be uncomfortable or pleasurable, depending on the care given her by the male claiming her flower. And Io had made sure Miriam’s first time was as pleasurable as he could make it.

  Paving the way by exciting her, then taking her while she climaxed, was much better than taking her when she hadn’t been properly prepared. Dosing her with euphoria was the final step in persuading her body to relax enough to accept his size. And the way Miriam shuddered and cried out again told him she was good and relaxed. Only a fully relaxed female could climax again so quickly after already having two powerful releases.

  He sucked hard on her neck as his body tightened, taking in her blood as it flowed over his tongue like spirits. Her feminine sheath contracted around him through another, less powerful release and he couldn’t hold back any longer. Giving her long, hard strokes, he felt his already-tight scrotum strain higher.

  He growled. It was time to take what was his…to claim her as a properly mated male.

  Pushing himself up on his arms, he released her neck and slammed his hips into her as his seed poured into her body.

  “I’m coming, baby.”

  Her glossy, blue eyes sparkled in the scant light as her gaze met his. Her body was spent, and soon his would be, too. At least for a little while. And then he would do it all over again. The day without her had infused him with a need to take her as many times as his body would allow before giving out. He needed to mark her, put his scent all over her, implant her with his body’s offerings until he had nothing left but his mangled, sated body. He had never felt anything like this before—this overwhelming need to take the same woman over and over until his body was dry and completely spent, unmoving. The urge felt almost instinctual. Was this part of the mating bond? Surely, his calling hadn’t gone into full effect already. It was too soon.

  Io lifted himself off Miriam and rolled to his back, taking her with him. As she collapsed on top of him, he pulled her close, caressing her back. Her long, black hair fell over his chest and shoulders in waves of silk. She purred and rubbed her cheek over his chest, slithering against him as she settled in.

  He kissed the top of her head. “You okay, baby? Did I hurt you?” Rarely in the past had he been concerned about a female’s comfort, but Miriam’s was all he seemed able to think about now.

  She turned her face into his skin and kissed the generous swell of his pec. “No, you didn’t hurt me.” Kiss. “I’m surprised. I thought it would be painful.”

  “It can be.” He caressed her face with the backs of his fingers. “But I took extra care with you. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

  “My thoughtful male. You honor me.”

  “No, Miri. It’s you who honor me.” He cupped his palm against her face, cradling it. “You’ve entrusted me with the most valuable gift you can give, and I promise always to cherish your virtue and hold it next to my heart as if my life depends on it.”

  Io had never been one for romantic proclamations, but with Miriam he was Shakespeare. Her Romeo. Waxing poetic spilled from him as if he’d been writing poetry all his life.

  “I love you, Miriam. You are my lifemate, my lover, my friend. You are my life now.” He spoke the words in their ancient tongue. “I will honor you always above all others.”

  Her eyes lit with recognition of the ancient vow between mates. Miriam had been versed in the old traditions and knew what his words meant. They were the equivalent of human marriage vows, only stronger.

  She replied in the ancient tongue, as well. “I love you, too, Io. You are my lifemate, my lover, and my friend. Your life is my life, and mine is yours. I will honor you forever.”

  He pulled her close, kissed her, and then she snuggled against him. They were mates, and now it was official. They didn’t need a ceremony, or anyone to witness their promise to one another. What he and Miriam had just done was akin to running off to Vegas to get married. They had eloped and spoken the vows that would forever link them. Vampires took the ancient vows very seriously. No marriage certificate was required. No rings needed to be exchanged. Say the words, and that was all. And he had just said them, and so had she.

  He was bound to her forever, and she to him. He was off the market. Who would have thought monogamy would appeal to him so deeply?

  Only one thing could have made him happier: being able to share the news with his best friend.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  After having the chauffer drive him around the streets of Chicago
so he could get his emotions in check and think, King Bain returned home and met Donovan at the door.

  “Here.” Bain handed over the key to Io’s house.

  Donovan took the key and removed the bright yellow tag before attaching it to a gold keychain. “When would you like me to go?”

  King Bain considered his question a moment. “Tonight.”

  “Sire?”

  Miriam’s easy acceptance of the situation, in combination with the odd way his guards had returned from Io’s house two days ago had made Bain more and more uneasy on the drive home. She had been too eager to go. Something wasn’t right.

  “Yes, Don, tonight. They won’t be expecting an inspection so soon. If something is going on, I want to know about it now.” He narrowed his eyes on his head guard. “Are you sure you found nothing when you were at his house before?”

  “Yes, Sire. I found her chaste. The gentleman was asleep in a chair.”

  “And your broken nose? How did that happen again?”

  Donovan reached up and touched his nose, which still showed a hint of black and blue. The doctor on staff had had to re-break it and reset it when Donovan had arrived home. “I startled the master of the house with our intrusion. He apparently thought we were there to hurt your daughter.”

  “Io didn’t see the royal insignia on your clothing?” King Bain was feeling worse and worse about the situation. He should have listened to his gut before sending Miriam back to Io’s house, but he’d been in too much of a hurry to see her illness treated. Now, his carelessness might prove costly.

  “As I said, we startled him.”

  King Bain had a feeling he would have to call in Cordray. She was a day walker whose power, among other things, allowed her to sift through the minds of others and find where memories had been altered. Then she could release the original memories. Her gifts came in handy during legal proceedings, but he kept her close for other reasons, as well.

  “Donovan, gather the team you took to Io’s house and meet me in the conference room in half-an-hour.” He wiped his palms over his face. He just wanted to get some sleep, but this couldn’t wait.

  “Yes, Sire.” Donovan bowed his head and followed him into the house.

  The two parted as Donovan headed off in the direction of the security office, and King Bain marched upstairs to the master suite that took up the entire top floor of the mansion.

  His wife was settled on a chaise lounge, reading. She looked up. “How did it go?”

  “Too easily for my comfort, Cara.” He whipped off his wool scarf and shrugged out of his leather jacket before hanging them in the closet.

  “What do you mean?” Cara set down her book.

  “I mean she was much too agreeable. She didn’t argue or fight like she always does. I think more is going on here than we’ve been led to believe. I’m calling in Cordray.”

  Cara drew back, her hand shooting to her throat as she inhaled sharply. She didn’t like Cordray. Cara said Cord made her uncomfortable, which was understandable. She made a lot of people uncomfortable, and not just because of her powers. It was Cord’s appearance and demeanor that usually put people off. But she was thorough and skilled at what she did. There was no one better in her field. Bain’s fondness for her went beyond business, but no one, not even Cara, knew the real relationship between Bain and Cordray, which was a secret they both protected.

  “Is that necessary?” Cara fingered the ruby pendant that sat between her collarbones.

  “Yes.” King Bain turned and left, not wanting to deal with Cara’s criticism of his half-sister, who happened to be his most trusted consultant. He took the spiral staircase two-at-a-time as he descended. Something was going on with his daughter, he just didn’t know what. But he could guess, and none of his guesses eased his mind.

  When he reached the main floor, he took out his cell and punched in Cordray’s speed dial.

  “Yes?” The female’s husky voice answered after only one ring.

  “I need you here. I need a sweep.”

  “Who?”

  “Donovan and his team.”

  “I’ll be there in fifteen.”

  The line went dead. But that was how conversations went with Cord. Short, crisp, and to the point. Admittedly, he afforded her a long leash in exchange for her expertise, as well as for who she was. Only she could get away with being so cold and cavalier toward him. So far, no one had questioned him about how she got away with talking to him the way she did, but if anyone ever did, that person would learn how the term, “None of your business,” could actually break bones. He only barely tolerated Cara’s vague remarks where Cordray was concerned.

  Cord was a merciless firecracker. Well, she was more like full-on TNT than a firecracker, but then maybe that was simply a side effect of her inability to feel physically. She could touch, but not feel. Pain that would cripple a warrior was but an inconsequential pinprick to Cordray.

  Bain had once met with her after she had retrieved a bounty. Gunshots had been fired during the skirmish, but, as always, Cord had taken the man down. During their conversation, Bain had noticed what appeared to be a stain on her black shirt, just above her elbow. After the stain grew larger, he had asked her about it, and she had pulled up her sleeve. She had been shot.

  “Oh, I didn’t know,” she had said, poking her finger into the wound and digging around until she pulled out a slug.

  Afterward, she had lowered her sleeve and continued her discussion with him as if she hadn’t just performed outpatient surgery on herself with a finger.

  What would it be like not to feel? Not to suffer pain, whether physical or emotional. One thing was certain, Bain wouldn’t be feeling so helpless and keyed up right now over what might or might not be happening to his daughter. And that would be a blessing.

  The idea that he could have been duped pissed him off. Had this whole thing been a trick for her to get back to Io’s house? And if so, how deep did the lie run? Tristan? Gregos? His gut told him that whatever was going on between Miriam and Io had required the assistance of others. And it had started that first night. Something had been done to his guards’ memories. Somehow Io had been able to alter their minds. The filthy heathen! How had Bain missed this? Why hadn’t he thought of this before? And how could Miriam have done this to him?

  Twelve minutes later, the intercom beeped in the room.

  “Yes?”

  “Cordray Buveau, Sire.”

  “Send her down.”

  King Bain stepped into the hall and saw Cord walk through the large double doors at the entrance. She wore black, black, and more black. A long leather trench that looked more like plastic flared at her ankles as her measured, purposeful strides ate up the floor. Black, skintight leggings hugged long, slender legs, and a loose, black shirt covered her ample breasts under her coat.

  Her choice of footwear surprised him, though. Knee-high combat boots with thick soles and silver hooks for the laces made her look like a gothic mercenary. She usually wore stylish shoes from top designers, but the one thing Bain knew about Cordray’s fashion tastes was that she had a shoe addiction. No doubt she had an entire wing of the mansion she lived in devoted to her collection of shoes. The boots were no doubt another addition to her growing horde.

  “Hell, Bain. I could hear your thoughts from outside,” she said from halfway down the hall. She flipped her hair off her shoulder.

  She had a new hairstyle, too. Surprise, surprise. When did Cordray not do something bizarre to her head of long, black hair that hung down past her ass? Today, it looked like she had a mix of twists and braids that tracked over her scalp before falling in thick, heavy, serpentine tails over her shoulders and down her back. And she had dyed sections a bright shade of aquamarine. The color accented her brilliant, blue eyes perfectly.

  A strap of leather with a hook on it served as a choker around her neck, and wide leather cuffs adorned each wrist. A variety of silver and gemstone rings decorated each finger with skulls, snakes, d
ragons, scorpions, spiders, and Celtic designs, and a silver hoop pierced one nostril. The colorful, feathered wings of a dragon tattoo that wrapped around her torso could be seen on the exposed skin of her chest and shoulders.

  In short, Cordray was a walking conversation piece, scary-looking and unbending, with the chutzpah to back up the image if anyone pushed her.

  She stopped in front of him, her intense blue eyes flashing. “What’s got you so pissed off?” Her eyes narrowed, brow knitted. She was more concerned for him than she needed to be. As usual.

  “Do I really need to answer that?”

  She shrugged one shoulder, smirking. “We’ll talk later.”

  He nodded once. “Thank you for coming. As always.” He tried to maintain an air of entitlement with her, but sometimes he didn’t want to have to work that hard.

  “Of course.” She glanced over his shoulder. “Where are they?”

  As if on cue, Donovan, Joseph, and the other members of Don’s team entered through the main doors.

  Their steps slowed when they saw the six-one Cordray standing next to him. As with Cara, his guards weren’t huge fans of her either.

  “I’ll wait inside,” Cord said flatly, one brow arched as she cast the four guards a disdainful glance. She knew how she was perceived. She accepted it, but Bain could plainly see the guards’ reactions got on her nerves.

  She walked around him and into the conference room.

  Donovan and each member of his team bowed their heads as they passed the king and followed her. He took a deep breath and went inside, closing the door behind him. Now he would find out the truth.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Miriam awoke with her head on Io’s chest. The two of them had dozed off after he had claimed her. She still couldn’t believe how pleasurable her deflowering had been. She had thought it would be painful or at least uncomfortable, but Io had expertly tended to her. He had known just what to do, and other than a minor pinch and a little bleeding, her first time had been memorable for all the right reasons.