The look he gave her was a little affronted. “Should they not?” He turned back to the women. “My new slave is in need of a towel for the shower.”
The women’s gazes all shifted to her, curious, maybe even a little jealous. They really did like this vampire.
One of the women stepped forward, a winning smile on her face. “I’ll fetch it, Master.”
“Bring it to the shower.” As the woman hurried off, Arturo ushered Quinn the other way, stopping in front of a wooden shed at the far end of the compound. He grabbed the lantern hanging on the hook beside the door and lit it, then opened the door, waiting for her to precede him in.
The lamplight flickered eerily over the shadowed interior—a simple stall with wooden benches on either side. Deeper in hung a partial door that reached from her chin to her knees. Over the door, she saw an old, rusted showerhead.
“How do you have plumbing in this place?”
Arturo hung the lamp from a hook on the ceiling. “We may not have much in the way of infrastructure here, but we understand the concepts. The plumbing is very rudimentary, but it works. The water is warm.”
“How? Magic?”
He grinned. “The water in the tank is heated by a wood fire.”
“Not constantly.”
“No. Only on banquet days.”
The thought of all those naked Slavas . . . “I’m wasting their water.”
“It will have reheated by the time they’ve recovered and returned.”
He reached over the door and turned on the spray, then turned her to face him and grabbed the hem of her shirt.
Startled, she pushed his hands away. “Whoa, what are you doing?”
“Undressing you.”
“Obviously,” she replied with exasperation. “I can undress myself, thank you.”
“No, tessoro, you will not.” His eyes turned hot, making her shiver, though whether with desire or dread, she wasn’t sure. He reached into the stall and turned off the water again. “If you want the shower, you will pay the price.”
She stared at him. “You didn’t hear anything I said. I’m in no frame of mind for sex play right now. If that’s the price, then I don’t want the shower.”
“Yes you do,” he said gently. Lifting a hand, he cupped her cheek. “I wish only to help you into the shower. Then, perhaps, to watch you.”
Despite herself, she shivered again and this time she knew the source as damp heat pooled between her thighs. She remembered the words he’d used when he was talking about Susie. Cajole. Seduce. Cristoff’s snake was a master manipulator.
His thumb stroked her lips ever so lightly. “I will not take you against your will, cara. That I will never do.”
“Why not? You said yourself you don’t usually let your conscience bother you.”
His gaze turned thoughtful. “You are special, Quinn Lennox. Necessary to our survival if your power proves true. And you cannot be enthralled or made to forget. But . . .”
“But what?”
He turned her, pulling her back against him, sliding his arms around her waist. “I like you.” His warm breath brushed her temple. “And I want you. I want the passion I’ve glimpsed within you, but I will never get it by force.”
“Cajole and seduce,” she murmured, her breath unsteady at the feel of his arms around her and of the thick ridge at the small of her back.
“Yes. Perhaps. But never force.” He tilted her head and pressed his mouth against her neck, nuzzling her. Kissing her. But she felt no fangs. “As you’ve said, today is not the day for such intimacies, not after what you’ve seen. But I will watch.” His hand slid down over her abdomen and lower, his touch tense with desire, his fingers just brushing her pubic bone. “And I will want.”
“Watching that orgy . . . aroused you.”
“I may no longer be human, but I am still male. Decide quickly, cara. I do not have all day.”
Everything inside her rebelled at the coercion. But he was giving her a choice, and he didn’t have to. It was rather remarkable that he was. And, heaven help her, she was nearly shaking from the desire to step beneath the spray of that shower. So what if he watched?
“All right.”
Wasting no time, he lifted her shirt over her head, then reached for her pants. She tried to brush his hands away, but he ignored her.
“I can do it, Vampire.”
“As can I.” He pushed her pants down over her hips.
“My boots.”
“Sit.”
She did, finding the bench rough beneath her bare thighs.
The vampire knelt on the wooden floor of the shed and pulled off her boots and socks, then her pants, tossing them into the corner with her shirt. Then his hands went around her, and he unfastened her bra, tossing it onto the pile, too.
When he reached for her hips, and her panties, she grabbed his wrists. “Enough. I can do the rest.”
The look he gave her was rich with heat and a gleam she didn’t entirely understand . . . or trust. But he capitulated, turned to sit beside her, and pulled off his own boots.
Quinn remained where she was, uncertain how she wanted to proceed. “Are you going to watch me from over the door?”
“I am going to join you.” He stood and pulled off his shirt, revealing far too fine a six pack. “I am going to wash you.”
Quinn lunged to her feet, crossing her arms over her bare breasts. “You said watch. Watch. Not wash.”
“Easy, cara. I will not remove my pants. I said I will not take you today, and I will not.”
She eyed him dourly. “You are pretty free and easy with the lies, Vampire. Your word doesn’t mean a lot, does it?”
His eyes flashed and she wondered if she’d gone too far this time. But he only shrugged. “My tongue is glib, I’m afraid.” He reached for her, cupping her face in both hands, sliding cool fingers into her hair. “Have I ever hurt you?” His gaze grew infinitely serious, surprisingly soft. “Have I?”
“No.”
“Trust my actions, then, if not my words. Trust your instincts. I tell you I want more than to watch you. I want to touch you, to pleasure you. Only that. Do your instincts believe me?”
“You’re hard as a rock. I know you want sex.”
“I am ready for sex. Of course I am. I’m staring at a very beautiful, very naked woman. But I do not want that from you today.”
“You won’t take anything for yourself?” she said dubiously.
“And why do you think that touching you is not for me, also?” At her frown, he leaned in, brushing his lips against her temple, her cheek. “I love the way you respond to my touch. I feel your pleasure rise every time I touch you, even in the simplest way. You are sensual, magnificent. I am not usually this sensitive to another’s pleasure, but your pleasure feeds my own.” He pulled back, lifted her chin. “Will you trust me? In this?”
It wasn’t like she had much of a choice, but the truth was she really didn’t believe he’d hurt her or take her against her will. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t still try to seduce her, but she honestly didn’t think he’d push her if she said no. And the thought of his hands on her . . . just that . . . set up a deep, sensual longing. “Yes. I will trust you in this.”
His smile was swift and delighted. Without warning, he kissed her, his lips cool against her own yet infinitely warm. His lips moved softly, a first exploration, a first kiss despite the fact she stood naked before him, having just given him permission to touch her wherever he pleased. His mouth moved over hers, his tongue sliding lightly along the crease of her mouth until she opened for him, giving him access. And then he was inside, his tongue sliding against hers, stealing her breath, her thoughts, the last of her inhibitions.
He tasted of dark liqueur and darker nights, lush and crystal clear. Without thought, she wrapped her arms around his neck,
pressing her breasts to his chest, the feel eliciting a moan deep in her throat.
Firm hands slid up her rib cage and down over her hips, back and forth, making her moan with the pleasure. She loved being touched. Especially by a man with a sure, if gentle, hand. A man who knew what he was doing.
His fingers slid into her butt cheeks, gripping them hard, kneading them as he pulled her against him and the hard ridge that lay between them within his pants. Her own hips began to rock of their own volition, seeking . . . needing . . .
Oh yes, her vampire knew what he was doing.
Her moan turned to one of dismay as he released her mouth, pulled her arms from around his neck, and set her away from him. Once more, he cupped her face, forcing her to look at him through the haze of passion.
“Your body screams for mine, cara, but I fear it is your passionate nature speaking and not truly your will. Do you wish me to remove my pants?”
She closed her eyes, trembling with desire, and tipped her forehead against his shoulder. “No.”
He gathered her against him with a sigh, holding her against his warm length. “I feared as much.”
“Do you want to stop? And let me take my own shower?”
“Never. My control is exquisite. And there is nothing I want more at this moment than to touch you. Not sex, not blood, not fear. Just to touch you.” His hands traced wide, warm circles over her back.
She blinked. “Why aren’t your hands cold anymore?”
He pulled back with surprise, meeting her gaze. “You can feel the warmth?”
“Yes. You feel hotter than I am.”
A funny look crossed his face. “When I touch you, when I kiss you, I feel as if I’ve stepped into the sun for the first time in centuries. You smell like sunshine to me. And I feel a warming of the flesh I’ve not known in far too long. I thought I was being fanciful.”
“You’re actually warm to the touch.” She looked at him curiously. “Is this my magic?”
“I do not know.” He frowned, his fingers running through her hair. “I wish you had no magic.”
“Why?”
“Because then I could keep you for my own.”
Chapter Ten
Turning away, Arturo opened the inner door of the shower stall and started the water, then stepped back out and began to remove his belt.
Quinn stared at him with disbelief. “You said you were keeping your pants on.”
“Pants, yes. Belt, no. I would not ruin the leather.”
“Oh. Fair enough.”
But the moment he tossed the belt aside, he reached for her, long fingers catching in the waistband of her panties. “Hold on to me.”
She did, gripping his shoulders—hard, muscular, lovely shoulders—to steady herself as he pulled her panties down and off. Arturo straightened slowly, caressing her body with his gaze in a wash of sensual heat. With a quick shake of his head, as if to clear it, he opened the door behind him, took her hand, and led her inside under the deliciously warm spray of water.
“Oh, this is heaven,” she murmured, stepping into the stream, tilting her head back to soak her face and hair.
“You, cara mia, are magnificent.” He dipped and nuzzled her neck even as the water sluiced down the back of her head, neck, and shoulders. Slowly, he straightened, then reached for the bar of soap sitting in the soap dish on the wall. A bar that looked a lot like what she used at home.
“Dove?”
“So it says.” He thoroughly lathered his hands, then dropped the bar back into the dish. “Step out of the water. Let me wash you.”
She did, missing the warmth until his soapy hands slid over her shoulders, cupping her neck and throat, then down to cover both breasts. Tipping her head back, she sighed with pleasure at his firm, slick touch. “This place is such a strange blend of the old and modern. Fire-heated water, hand laundry, and Dove soap.”
“And Herbal Essences shampoo.”
Quinn laughed softly, happily lost in a haze of pleasure as her vampire companion thoroughly washed one of her arms, then the other.
He turned her away from him, lifting her hands, placing her palms against the wall as he placed a kiss on her shoulder. “Keep your hands there and move back, bend over.”
“I don’t think . . .”
His hand slid softly up her spine. “Trust me.”
“I have no idea why I should do that,” she muttered, but did as he asked, the water hitting her lower back, her body beginning to tremble in anticipation of his touch. And she didn’t have long to wait. A moment later, soapy hands were sliding over her back and shoulders, down over her hips. But his touch was firm, no-nonsense, as he thoroughly cleaned one leg and foot, then the other. Disappointed, she was beginning to think he truly meant to take no advantage at all. Until his foot tapped her inner ankle.
“Spread your legs.” She did, and, a moment later, one soap-slick finger started at the base of her spine and slid down, over her anus, and further, straight into her hot, wet core. She cried out, arching her back at the pleasure.
His other hand, equally slick, corralled her from the other side, sliding across her stomach, delving into her nether curls, finding and plucking at the center of her pleasure. His mouth caressed her shoulder, her back, her neck as both of his hands played her until she was rocking, crying out, screaming with release. And then she was in his arms, her back against his chest, one of his hands covering her breast, the other deep between her legs, finger-fucking her, milking the orgasm for all it was worth.
She reached behind her head, running her fingers through his hair as she arched back into him, rocking, moaning, loving his touch. Gradually, she calmed. Slowly, he released her, turning her around to face him, pulling her back into his arms and kissing her with a passion that threatened to drive her up all over again. Until the water at her back began to turn cold.
Quinn gave a squeak and dove out of the water, looking at Arturo with dismay. “I haven’t washed my hair.”
His eyes were soft as he watched her. Infinitely warm. “Tip your head forward under the water, then shift toward me, and I’ll wash it for you.”
She did as he directed, enjoying the feel of his long fingers massaging her scalp before she shoved her head back under the now-chilly water for a quick rinse and repeat. When her hair was clean and clear of the fragrant shampoo, Arturo turned off the water, reached through the door for the towel, and wrapped her up snugly. How strange to feel taken care of by a vampire.
He towel-dried her hair, then helped her back into her clothes. As she pulled on her boots, he donned his shirt, not appearing to care that his pants were soaking wet.
A shriek split the air from one of the buildings nearby, a loud wail that had Quinn turning rigid as stone. “Not again.”
“No one is being tortured.”
“Sounds like it to me.” She tied her second boot and rose.
“That is a cry of anguish, not pain.”
“You know your screams.”
His expression turned wry, but he took her hand and led her out of the shower shack, to a low, wooden structure that looked like it belonged in a campground packed full of day campers. He ushered her inside. The interior was open, furnished only with a couple of long trestle tables. Built into one wall was a huge stone hearth, unlit.
Firelight flickered on the walls from half a dozen lamps, and on the faces of half a dozen stricken women, one of whom was in full-blown hysterics.
Quinn watched as Kassius strode up to the group, grabbed the hysterical girl by the jaw in a grip that appeared surprisingly gentle, and forced her to look into his eyes. Instantly, she calmed, her tears ending, her expression falling into one of sleepy indifference. As a woman put her arm around the girl and led her away, the others followed, eyeing Kassius with an odd mix of fear and gratitude.
She glanced at Arturo and caught
the look of pleasure on his face. “You’re feeding.”
“I am,” he said unapologetically.
One woman remained behind, a woman with a thin, pinched face and the shimmering hair of a Slava, who eyed Kassius with a haughty belligerence. Kassius turned on her with a look that Quinn thought warranted a little fear.
“You enjoy the hysterics,” Kassius accused her. “You should be one of us.”
“They are weak.”
He stared at her until she began squirming beneath his gaze. “Perhaps I’ll recommend to the council that the next game’s theme be dark-haired bitches.”
She closed her mouth with a snap and whirled away.
Kassius growled low in his throat, then came to join them. “The Games,” he spat. “They should be for warriors, not women.”
Arturo shrugged. “They are what they are.”
“You are too damned complacent, Ax!”
“And you care too much, Kas. You grow fond of them, and they die.”
Kassius glanced at her. “And you don’t?”
“Caring has never changed anything.”
“I can’t stop. Not anymore, though, gods, I wish I could.” He turned toward the door and strode out, anger vibrating in every step.
“What just happened?” Quinn asked softly.
Arturo’s expression told her she wouldn’t want to hear it. And he was probably right. But Zack was caught in this place somewhere, and the more she understood, the better her chance of getting him back.
“I want to know. The truth, Vampire.”
He frowned. “She’s been chosen for the Games.”
“Which means?”
He gave a snort of frustration. “One of Vamp City’s prime selling points, over and above the fact that the sun never shines, is that it is a place where vampires can engage freely in our favorite sports.”
“Which are?”
He met her gaze, warning her not to press. She stared at him, insisting he finish.
“The hunting, terrorizing, and torturing of humans.”
Quinn shivered. “The Games.” He was right. She didn’t wanted to know this. “Tell me the rest.”
A Blood Seduction Page 15