His smile faded, his expression growing ambiguous. “It would seem so, wouldn’t it?”
He snarled, punching his cock deeper still into her center, thrusting hard, fast. She cried out, a sound part human, part Principatus. She arched her back, bucking her hips into his. Waves of pleasure crashed through her, swept her away. With every thrust, he took possession of her body. With every brutal stoke, he drove her closer to the precipice. She sank her teeth into her bottom lip, curled her fingers into fists, drove her nails into her palms. Fuck, she was drowning.
And still he continued to take her. There was no other way to describe it. He mauled one breast with his hand as he ravished the other with his mouth, sucking on her nipple so hard black blossoms of pleasurable pain erupted in her vision. A throb beat in her pussy. She moaned, overwhelmed by the savage aggression of his thrusts, by the raw pleasure each one created in her core.
She should be fighting him. She should be fighting what he was doing to her, what he’d awakened in her. Yet all she could do was stay alive. Stay alive and drown in the sensations claiming her. Marking her.
“Oh, God!” she called out, her body ablaze, her orgasm about to break. To consume her. “Yes! No! No!”
“Yes!” Ezryn growled, the hand on her breast closing harder, his fangs scraping her throat before, with a roar that made Inari’s belly twist and her pussy contract, he threw back his head and lost all rhythm in his thrusts.
Thick ropes of come burst from his cock. She felt them flood her sex. She cried out, hate and rapture turning the cry to a scream, his brutal climax detonating in perfect sync with her own. “Damn you, you fucking vampire!” she screamed, bucking her hips into his frenzied thrusts. “Damn you, damn you, damn you!”
Liquid fire consumed her, stole her breath, devoured her. She cried out once more, a keening call of release echoed by Ezryn’s deep, ragged groans.
“Damn us both, Inari,” he rasped in her ear, the savage brutality of his possession fading, fading. His strokes grew slower, longer. Gentle. His hands slipped from her body to cup her face with tender care. “Damn us both, for I have no idea how I am to go on from here.”
The proclamation sent a shiver up Inari’s spine. She closed her eyes, his tortured voice and the reverent caress almost undoing her completely. Where did they go from here? What came next?
“Open your eyes, Inari.”
She did as he asked.
He studied her face, wordless, brushing a loose strand of her hair from her forehead. She waited for him to say something, anything. Instead, he touched his lips to hers in a kiss so soft she caught her breath. She’d never been kissed so.
“Ezryn…” she began, but he shook his head, snuggling in beside her and pulling her to his body.
“Don’t,” he murmured. “Let’s at least pretend for a while we’re not what we are.”
Tight pressure knotted around Inari’s heart at his words, and she closed her eyes again, breathing in his scent. Yes, let them pretend for a while they were not what they were—demon and demon assassin. Let them have the moment.
And when the moment is over? What do you do then, Inari? What do you do if those random thoughts of yours Ezryn reads reveal what kind of demon you used to be? What do you do if you receive your next orders from the Powers and the bloodsucker still buried in your sex is to be destroyed? What will you do then?
She let out a slow breath and pressed herself closer to Ezryn’s cool body. When that time came—if that time came—she would do what had to be done.
As she always had. Since her rebirth as an assassin of the order of Principatus.
Until then…
“I will pretend,” she whispered, sleep reaching for her with surprising strength. She surrendered to its embrace. Willingly.
Chapter Six
Ezryn felt Inari fall asleep before the muscles of her body told him she’d done so. Her breathing grew steady, even and deep, the fingers threaded through his grew relaxed, less fraught and tense. He lay motionless, his arm resting over her chest, enjoying the steady rhythm of her heart pumping her blood through her veins.
Dark Ones, he was confused.
Confused is an understatement, Navarr. How about totally fucked in the head?
He let out a silent sigh. He’d fought his desire for her every second since he’d crossed her threshold. He’d followed her to her home to… Hell, he didn’t know why he’d followed her. He just knew he’d been unable to let her run from him. He’d followed her to her home and found her on her bed, her hair a tousled mess, her face flushed, her breasts heaving with rage, and any thought of killing her had deserted him. Nothing mattered. Not that he’d entered her home without invitation, not that he had less than twenty-four hours to kill her, not that hundreds of vampires would be butchered if he didn’t. Nothing mattered but tasting her again, taking her again, filling her body with pleasure as he took his pleasure from her.
The moment he touched her, he knew. Knew he was in trouble. He’d lashed out, been cruel, spiteful, hating himself, hating where his desire for her had taken him. He’d fought himself and ultimately lost. And now he lay beside the very woman he was to kill while she slept in his arms.
She was warm to lie beside, soft where she should be, firm where she needed to be. Her ass, pressed so distractingly against his groin, was both smooth and hard. The muscles of her ass cheeks were sculpted from what he guessed was a lifetime of hard work. All paranormal beings were born close to physically perfect for their genus, but that didn’t mean they stayed that way. Too much hard living, careless health practices or indulgent decadence impacted a being’s body just as it did a human’s. His twin brother was a perfect example of that fact. Ezryn and Haral had been identical in every way until Haral stopped caring about anything else except indulging his most decadent appetites. The last fifty years of overindulgence had turned what was once a lean, muscled physique into something found in the medical journals under obese. The overlord’s ass alone was wider than Ezryn had believed could ever be possible for a vampire.
Inari’s ass spoke of dedication, determination and sweat. So did the rest of her, in fact. Her sinewy, womanly muscles were toned and trim and firm with latent strength. Whatever demon she had been before her rebirth as a Principatus, he had little doubt she’d kept her body in sublime form. The power and force of her assassin’s existence could not be solely responsible for such…perfection.
Aren’t you still the slightest bit interested about what type of demon she was before her rebirth? Maybe you should ask her.
Ezryn shifted slightly on the mattress, pulling her closer to his body. He was still interested, although it made little difference to his already messed-up situation, and he would ask her. Just not now.
You could bite her. Taste her blood. You’d know exactly what kind of demon she was once her blood flows over your tongue.
His cock jerked a little at the idea, the base creature he was more than eager to do just that. She would kick his ass if he tried. She’d come very close earlier on. He’d been taken by surprise by her sheer strength and speed. He had little doubt the second his teeth touched her skin, she’d not only wake, but transform into her Principatus form. He didn’t want that. Truth be known, he was enjoying himself too much now watching her sleep in his arms.
A thought occurred to him and he chuckled softly. He was spooning. Who’d have thought he’d ever be spooning with a Principatus? Not just spooning, but reveling in the position, in the closeness. Holding her like this as sleep rendered her calm and still, her neck exposed to him in a beautiful column of creamy skin…
His mouth filled with saliva, and he lifted his arm from across her chest to trace the tip of his index finger down the line of her neck, following the path he knew her carotid artery took hidden beneath her flesh. Waiting to be punctured by his fangs.
But you don’t want to bite her, do you?
Ezryn let his gaze roam over Inari’s profile, the throb of her pulse a delicious beat
under his fingertip. No, he didn’t want to bite her. Well, yes, he did—his body hungered for the sensation of piercing her flesh with his teeth—but it was a purely physical response. He wanted to bite her but he didn’t. Not until she wanted him to. And he knew she didn’t. Not yet.
Dark Ones, he was making no sense.
Nothing makes sense about this, Ezryn. Nothing.
So why was he still here? Holding her? Why wasn’t he biting her? Feeding from her?
Killing her? Just as he had been ordered to do by the overlord?
Dark guilt twisted through him and he closed his eyes. His time was running out. If he didn’t end her existence by sunup tomorrow, Harry would begin the methodical slaughter of hundreds of innocent vampires.
And if you do kill her, you will never be able to hold her like this again. Is that what you want?
He bit back a silent growl, shutting the confusing jumble of questions out of his mind. At this very point in time, he didn’t want to face the answers.
But you will have to. And very soon. You can’t escape that, no matter how much you want to close your eyes, hold Inari close and stay this way until the sun sets again.
Inari sighed in her sleep, as if she too thought the idea agreeable, and wriggled her backside closer to his groin. Ezryn’s cock twitched, and this time he couldn’t stop his growl. He’d never been so fucked up. Nor so wanted to make love to a woman again.
Then wake her and do just that.
The suggestion, as dangerous as it was, was too appealing to ignore. He smoothed his palm over her ribcage, down her belly to her—
Inari jerked awake and slammed her elbow into his rib.
“Hey, hey, hey,” he soothed, catching her wrist in his hand. Damn, she could hit hard. His side felt like it was on fire.
She snapped her stare to his face, her confused expression still glazed by sleep. “What…” she began, twisting on the mattress until her hip pressed against his stomach. “Did I doze off?”
He smiled, brushing a strand of her hair from her eyes. “You could say that.”
She pulled a face, her nose wrinkling. “Damn it, I can’t let that happen again.”
Ezryn raised his eyebrows. “What?”
“Fall asleep with a vampire in my home.”
He laughed, returning his hand to the flat plane of her belly just below her navel. “I’m not going to rob you, y’know.”
She pulled another face. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”
“Ah,” he said, nodding his head in mock seriousness. “I see. I won’t bite you either.”
“Ha!”
Ezryn gave her a level look. “Trust me.”
A slight frown dipped her eyebrows as she studied him. He didn’t say a word, and neither did she, but if his heart had been capable of beating, Ezryn knew it would have been thumping like a sledgehammer. He waited for her to say something. Instead, she rolled back onto her side and wriggled her body into the curve of his. “So, master vampire,” she said, her voice the definition of deliberate off-handedness, “what do you do when you’re not doing…whatever it is you do?”
Ezryn laughed, curled his arm around her waist and snuggled her closer to him. “I enjoy long, moonlit walks on the beach, Piña Coladas and getting caught in the rain. I’m not much into health-food junkies—their blood always tastes of tofu—and I’m pretty certain I like making love at midnight.” He laughed again, tightening his arm around her when she began to pull away from him. “Kidding. I’m kidding. Sorry.” She relaxed, but not before she gave him a mocking, sideways look. He smiled and ran his hand over her hip. Dark Ones, it was so smooth, so warm. “I spend most of my nights observing,” he said in all seriousness. “Listening.”
“To what?”
He shrugged, for the first time conscious of the real lack of obvious purpose to his existence. “The world.”
Unsettled discontent stirred in the pit of his gut. Born to lead the vampire race, and you do nothing but protect it from afar.
Inari didn’t respond, and Ezryn found himself wishing for one of those inexplicable moments when he could hear what was going through her mind. When she stayed silent, he gave her a slight squeeze. “What about you? What are you doing when you’re not watching skin shows at the Pleasure Pussy?”
Another stretch of silence followed his question before Inari said, “Movie marathons. Specifically, cult musicals.”
The answer, completely not what Ezryn had expected, made him laugh. For the third time. When had he laughed so often so quickly? “Cult musicals? As in—”
“Rocky Horror Picture Show, Little Shop of Horrors, This Is Spinal Tap, Mamma Mia,” she finished for him, and he could hear the self-deprecating mirth in her voice.
“So you go to these movie marathons by yourself?”
She made a noncommittal sound. “Sometimes.”
A wave of jealousy crashed over Ezryn at the idea of Inari sitting in a dark movie theatre with someone else, their arms sharing a seat armrest, their knees close to touching. Tight, hot and undeniable jealousy. “Sometimes?”
It was her turn to shrug. The action made her breasts move against his arm in such a way his head spun. “Sometimes.”
The urge to press her to her back, pin her to the mattress and make her tell him who she went to the cinema with and where he could find them surged through him. He almost did. Until he felt her laughing. Silent shakes vibrated through her body into his. Tiny quakes that not only made his head spin but his cock twitch. “What so funny?” he growled, the turmoil of unprecedented emotions churning in his gut irritating him.
“I just had an image of you sitting in a movie theatre dressed in a black corset, suspenders and fishnets singing ’The Time Warp‘ at the top of your voice and throwing popcorn at the screen.”
“Right,” he muttered. “That’s it.” And he yanked her onto her back, slid atop her body and kissed her.
She kissed him back without hesitation or delay. She snaked her arms up around his neck, and her lips parted to his tongue.
The candor of her response sent him reeling. He’d kissed her many times since finding her in the Pleasure Pussy, but never once had she been so straightforward, so immediate in kissing him back. She slanted her lips over his and her tongue mated with his, purposeful and confident. Gone was the battle he knew had waged within her from the second he’d touched her flesh. Gone was the fierce determination to fight the chemistry between them. She kissed him, wholly and totally, fisting her hands in his hair in a grip far from tender, wrapping her legs around his.
He groaned, more than a little stunned, a lot more than a little turned on. The woman in his arms, the woman who enjoyed cult musicals and could decimate a demon with her bare hands, wasn’t just a woman of sublime sensuality. She was a sexual force to be reckoned with.
Dark Ones, he loved it.
And still I have to kill her.
He refused the thought, deepening the kiss instead, sucking on her tongue, drawing it into his mouth until he heard her moan. She arched beneath him, sliding her foot up the back of his leg to his ass, down to his calf and back up again. The simple sensation of her ankle rubbing over his cool flesh sent wicked pulses of lust into his belly, and he tore his mouth from hers, hungry to taste more of her. Before he could capture her breasts in his hands however, before he could claim one rock-hard nipple with his mouth, she growled and flipped him onto his back.
She straddled his hips, staring down at him through heavy-lidded eyes, her thick, black lashes hiding all but the tiny glint of her emerald-green irises. “Touch me,” she ordered, a very small, very cheeky smile curling the edges of her mouth. “I so want to feel dirty right now.”
Ezryn recognized a lyric from one of the musicals she’d confessed to enjoying in her command, but the waves of pleasure rolling over him at her sudden assertive turn destroyed any hope of remembering the next line. Or maybe it was the way she looked.
He gazed up at her. She was beautiful. So beau
tiful. “Fuck, you are gorgeous.”
Her smile stretched wider. “Thank you.” She leaned closer to his body and curled her fingers around his wrists, raising his hands to her breasts. “Now, touch me.”
He did as she told him, for the first time in his seven hundred years taking orders from a sexual partner. He flattened his palms over each heavy swell of flesh, massaging them, kneading them with growing pressure. She moaned and her eyes fluttered closed for a brief moment. “Oh…”
He bent upward, determined to capture one of her nipples with his mouth, but she pushed him back to the mattress, curling her lips in an entirely too sexy grin. “Not yet,” she stated with a quick shake of her head. She rolled her hips, stroking her sex up the length of his erection. Her wet sex. “Touch me.”
He returned his hands to her body, sliding them up her ribcage, over her breasts and back down to her hips. He closed his fingers around them, tugging her a little forward, desperate to align her pussy with his cock. She relinquished control—for exactly half a second, the folds of her sex parting to the domed head of his dick—before squeezing her thighs together and shaking her head once again. “Not yet.”
Ezryn laughed, even as his body began to ache with undeniable want. He flashed his fangs at her, smoothing his palms down the length of her thighs, following her calves to her ankles. Circling each one in a loose grip, he levered his body upward again, feathering his lips over the base of her throat. The throb of her pulse beneath her fine, delicate skin made his mouth fill with saliva, and he felt his fangs lengthen. Dark Ones, he could bite her now. He could—
Kill her. Or Harry will destroy your—
She pushed him back to the bed, a glint in her green eyes. She raised herself slightly from his hips and he groaned, the loss of her damp heat pressed to his cock beyond painful. Without a word, she extended her body, hovering just above him on all fours, her gaze holding his as her nipples brushed two tormenting lines up his chest. He groaned again, cock jerking, balls aching.
“Touch me,” she whispered, her lips level with his.
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