The pit of Fred’s belly twisted. Her nipples pinched tight. She watched him approach her, her sex growing heavy. Thick. Wet.
Yes. An eternity of Patrick Watkins she could really go for.
An eternity she didn’t have.
She sighed and turned back to the mirror. Despite the fact Patrick had no date of death she was aware of, one day he would die. She couldn’t see it any other way. He was mortal. All mortals died eventually. The Order of Actuality demanded it so. One day, Patrick’s number would be up and no matter how much she hated it, she would—
She cut that line of thought dead and sighed again. By the Powers, she didn’t want to think about this. She really didn’t.
“That’s a lot of sighing for a woman just paid a blasphemous compliment.” Patrick slid his hands over her hips and tugged her back against his body. “Is there something you want to tell me?”
Fred closed her eyes and leant into his delicious embrace. He felt so damn good. So damn right. How did she tell him they didn’t have an eternity? That she would continue long after she’d brought his life to an end? How did she tell him one day he would—
“Die?” he murmured in her ear, pressing her closer to his body. “By your very hand?”
She stiffened, closing her eyes. “I thought we agreed to not peek inside each others thoughts.”
Patrick lowered his head, nibbling on her neck. “Didn’t need to be in your head to know what you were thinking, babe.” He smoothed his hands up over her ribcage, skimmed his knuckles along the bottom curve of her breasts. “I seem to be able to read your face better than I do the waves.”
She laughed, shifting her weight until her ass nuzzled his very impressive erection. “That well?”
“Hmmm.” He trailed his fingertips up the under swell of her breasts, circled her nipples once. “Scary isn’t it.” His lips moved over her neck, explored the little dip below her ear. “Just out of interest, why do you think you are going to claim my soul one day?”
The damp heat blooming between Fred’s thighs cooled and she frowned. She didn’t want to have this conversation. Not while they were both naked. Not ever. She tried to pull away from him, but he wouldn’t let her go, his lips charting a slow path down to her shoulder, as if he wasn’t asking her about his removal from the mortal coil. She swallowed, the churning in her stomach overwhelming. So this was fear? By the Powers, how did humans live with it? Handle it?
“Fred?” The tip of Patrick’s tongue drew a line along her shoulder, and she shivered.
“Because you are mortal. One day your time will come.”
She expected his hands to stop their slow torment of her body. Instead, he scooped each breast into a gentle grip and rolled the pad of his thumb over her taut nipples.
“Hmmm,” he murmured against her neck again. “If I told you we had the rest of forever, would you be upset?”
Fred twisted in his embrace, studying him from the corner of her eye. “Why would you say that?”
Patrick’s lips twitched. “Let’s just say I’ve been talking with the family.”
She frowned at him, her heartbeat growing quicker. Louder. Thumping in her chest, her throat, her ears. “With the family? What are you—”
Patrick chuckled, sliding his hands from her breasts, down to her hips to rotate her slowly in his hold. “Turns out that embarrassing cousin is very good at weaving.”
Fred’s heart thumped harder. Her lips tingled. “Weaving?” She paused a moment, gazing into Patrick’s laughing green eyes, not wanting to believe the squirming hope unfurling in the pit of her belly. “As in rethreading? As in rethreading the Order of Actuality? As in…”
“Not now, Fred.” He pressed her body to his, hip to hip, sex to sex, heart to heart. “Ask me again in a millennium.”
About the Author
Lexxie Couper started writing when she was six and hasn’t stopped since. She’s not a deviant, but she does have a deviant’s imagination and a desire to entertain readers with her words. Add the two together and you get romances that can make you laugh, cry, shake with fear or tremble with desire. Sometimes all at once. When she’s not submerged in the worlds she creates, Lexxie’s life revolves around her family, a husband who thinks she’s insane, an indoor cat who likes to stalk shadows, and her daughters, who both utterly captured her heart and changed her life forever.
Contact Lexxie at [email protected], follow her on Twitter www.twitter.com/lexxie_couper or visit her at www.lexxiecouper.com where she occasionally makes a fool of herself on her blog.
Look for these titles by Lexxie Couper
Now Available:
Savage Australia
Savage Retribution
Savage Transformation
Party Games
Suck and Blow
Twister
The Sun Sword
Tropical Sin
Triple Dare
Dare Me
Love’s Rhythm
Sunset Heat
Suspicious Ways
Muscle for Hire
Coming Soon:
Principatus
Dark Embrace
Should she kill him? Seduce him? Or both?
Dark Embrace
© 2013 Lexxie Couper
Principatus Series, Book 2
As an ex-succubus granted her soul by the Highest of Powers, Inari Chayse has spent the twenty years since her “rebirth” channeling her voracious sexual energy into kicking the asses of all malevolent paranormal beings.
Torn between the sex demon she was and the demon assassin she has become, she has no intention of complicating her life further. But when the vampire who pleasures her dreams walks into her paranormal strip club—and takes complete, humiliating command of her body—complicated doesn’t even begin to cover it.
Fifty years ago, Ezryn Navarr abdicated his trueborn throne to spare his people a bloody destruction. He never expected to find himself in a Sydney strip cup, buried in the deliciously sensual body of the very divine assassin he’s been commanded to kill. The bigger surprise? Inari awakens something he thought long dead. His humanity.
As their tormented desires intertwine with a centuries-old battle of blood and power, redemption seems as unobtainable as love. The backlash will rock the entire vampire race, leading to their salvation…or their deaths.
Warning: Herein lies dark lusts, dark deeds, dark desires, no-holds-barred passion, an ass-kicking succubus and a vampire to make your blood burn…
Enjoy the following excerpt for Dark Embrace:
The overlord flashed a wide smile, his pointed fangs glinting in the muted light from the many candles littering the ballroom. “You do us a great honor with your presence, Master Navarr.”
Ezryn suppressed the urge to snort, casting the room a disgusted glance. Candles? Dark Ones, what century did the fat fool think it was?
“Although,” the overlord continued, raising black eyebrows, “you are almost four hours late. We feared the Navarr master would not present himself to us before the sun rose.” He shot his new bride another quick look, as if eager to see her reaction to his royal disapproval.
Ezryn gave him a flat stare. “I had better things to do.”
The new bride gasped, pale skin bleaching white. She gaped at Ezryn, her eyes wide, candlelight turning her extended fangs a sick yellow.
The overlord snapped to his feet, jowls wobbling. “How dare you insult—”
“Give it a rest, Harry.” Ezryn cut him short. “Or I’ll pin you to the floor and drain you within a drop of empty like I used to.”
Haral Navarr, twin son of the first family, overlord of the vampire race, turned beet red—an interesting feat for someone deprived of sunlight for close to seven centuries. His mouth flapped in silent protest, his knuckles popping as he clenched his fists.
Ezryn shook his head, a sour taste coating the back of his tongue. “Do not fret, baby brother.” He ambled over to a long table overburdened with carafes of what could onl
y be human blood, eyeing the ridiculously ostentatious ice sculpture of the overlord positioned amongst them. “I would not dream of harming the great leader of our people.” He pulled an apple from his inside jacket pocket and polished it on his sleeve, turning back to the royal couple. Very few of his kind could tolerate human food, his twin brother included. That Ezryn had no difficulty consuming it caused many a vampire to clench their jaw in envy—and trepidation.
Lifting the apple to his mouth, he parted his lips, letting Haral see his fangs before biting into the fruit’s flesh.
Haral narrowed his eyes, his face—so like Ezryn’s if not for the fat of indulgence—still red with anger. Or was it shame? “You will not call me ‘baby brother’, Ezryn. I ordered you to cease doing so over half a century ago.”
Ezryn bit into the apple again, enjoying the incensed impatience on his twin’s face as he chewed the mouthful without hurry. “And when did I start following your orders, Harry?”
The overlord’s wife gasped again, her lush breasts almost spilling over the top of her red latex corset. Ezryn gave her an indifferent glance before wiping at his lips with the back of his hand. “What are you doing here, Haral? I can’t imagine Australia was your first choice for a honeymoon, especially during the summer. The sun doesn’t set here until nine most nights.” He finished the apple, savoring its succulent sweetness before dropping the core into the closest carafe of blood. It broke the still, red surface with a satisfying plop, the sound like a gunshot in the cavernous room. “In fact,” he went on, arching an eyebrow, “I can’t see any reason for you to have left your compound at all.”
The overlord flared his nostrils, a pathetic attempt to look intimidating. “I wanted you to meet Chantise.” He flicked his bride a quick look. “And she wanted to meet you.”
Ezryn chuckled, the sound low and almost a growl. Of course she would. She would want to see for herself the fabled son groomed to be the ruler of the vampire race, destined to be the next leader of them all—before the oracle, the vampire race’s high priest, had changed everything. He gave his new sister-in-law a slow inspection and bent slightly at the waist. “Your ladyship.”
The woman’s gaze raked him from head to toe, her eyes aglow with the taint of a recent feed. She touched her tongue to the tip of her right fang, tracing her fingertips over the swell of her breasts. “Ezryn.”
Ezryn suppressed a disgusted grunt. The woman was well-suited to his brother—he could see the covetous hunger in her blood-drunk eyes, the smug conceit in the tilt of her chin. He turned back to Haral, eager to be done with the perverse family reunion. “What do you want, Harry? I thought I made it clear the last time we spoke that I never wanted to see you again. In fact, I moved to the other side of the world to make sure that’s exactly what would happen.”
The overlord straightened his spine, his eyes igniting with cold rage. The last time the two brothers had faced each other—over fifty years ago—the vampire lord had threatened to have Ezryn marked as a traitor to his kind. The last time they’d stood in the same room, Ezryn had come very, very close to destroying the vampire lord. Close enough for Harry to sweat blood. A lot of blood.
“I am your lord,” Haral snapped. The muscles in his face quivered and his yellow eyes dilated. “I can speak to you and call upon you whenever I wish.”
Ezryn barked out a harsh laugh, the sound like cracking ice. “I have no lord.”
Haral stamped his foot, his human face distorting into a demonic mask. “As the supreme ruler of our people, I hereby command you to a task.”
Ezryn narrowed his eyes. “Go to hell, Harry.”
“Not before you, Ezryn.”
With a low growl, Ezryn sprang forward, crossing the distance to Haral in a blurring leap. Clamping one hand around his twin brother’s neck, he yanked Haral’s feet off the floor. “You destroyed any right you had to command me, brother, when you invoked the power of the blood trial.”
Haral scratched at Ezryn’s hand, his eyes bulging. “And yet…” he rasped, “…the blood trial named me overlord. Not…” he bucked in Ezryn’s hold, “…you.”
Ezryn tightened his grip, the mention of the ancient ritual filling him with cold contempt. Since birth, he’d been groomed to take over from his father as the next leader of the vampire race. For six hundred and fifty years, he’d known little except that as the first son of the First Family, born but a mere five minutes before his twin, he was destined to be the next overlord. He’d been educated to lead a race on the verge of imploding. Too many of their number had grown disillusioned with the old ways, the violent use of humans as a food source, an equal number disgusted with the progressive notion humans weren’t just cattle. He’d been ready to restore harmony where only conflict existed. Ready to take his place as overlord. And then his father had been killed, staked by an emo demon-slayer wannabe with acne on his cheeks.
The day after the overlord’s death, the day before Ezryn was to ascend to the position of his birthright, Haral had invoked the blood trial, an ancient and barbaric ceremony designed to reveal the true overlord’s identity. And on the whispered words of the human virgin sacrificed for the trial—a young woman known as the oracle’s voice throughout the proceedings—the course of history had changed.
Ezryn stared into his brother’s eyes. “Just what do you want me to do…lord?”
Haral flashed his fangs, his Adam’s apple jerking under Ezryn’s palm. “My wife’s cousin was slain by a Principatus. I want you to destroy her.”
Ezryn clenched his jaw, a cold fist of disquiet in his chest. “A Principatus?”
What Haral commanded was insanity. To destroy a divine assassin in self-defense was one thing—the Powers would not retaliate against such a death. If a Principatus could not survive a fair fight with their foe, than the Powers seemed to wipe Their divine, righteous hands of Their failed assassin. But to destroy one in an act of revenge? That was to start a war beyond all comprehension. A war that would bring about the mass destruction of vampire and Principatus alike.
The Principatus were no easy kill. Once demons themselves, they were selected by the Highest of Powers for reasons unknown, granted a soul and reborn then and there as assassins of all things unholy and paranormal. Whether vampire, shifter or hell-spawn, if a being threatened the divine status quo, chances were the Powers would mark it for assassination and send a Principatus to carry out the kill. A Principatus’s rebirth gave them immeasurable powers and knowledge of their target. Few of those targeted escaped to brag of the battle. Still, the divine assassins could be beaten. If you were strong. And ready to face ultimate death yourself.
Releasing his hold on Haral’s throat, Ezryn took a step back, noting the feverish light in his brother’s eyes. There was more to this than Haral would have him believe. “Why do you want me to do this? Are you not capable of the task yourself?” He flicked his gaze over his twin’s soft, round body, remembering a time when it was almost a carbon copy of his own. “Are you having performance problems, Harry? Tsk, tsk. At your young age too.”
The overlord drew himself straighter, his incensed stare fixed on Ezryn. “I charged you with a task, Master Navarr. If you do not obey your lord, you will see yourself punished by our laws.”
“Punished? Laws?” Ezryn raised his eyebrows, struggling to control the growing fury seeping through his veins. His twin always had been a pompous pain in the ass. Now it seemed his position of power had finally gone to his empty head. “Any laws worthy of respect you perverted on ascension, Harry. As for punishment, remember who you’re talking to. Every vampire on earth knows who the true overlord is.”
She thought she had a life—until being hunted shows her she’s never really lived.
Savage Transformation
© 2010 Lexxie Couper
Savage Australia, Book 2
Jacqueline Huddart has spent her entire adult life on the run. Not from the law, or even a jealous lover. From herself—and what she is. That strategy works for her
until a funeral demands she return to home ground, and her best friend disappears. Finding Delainie means Jackie must confront the truth…and accept the help of a mysterious, sexy-as-sin Texan.
Marshall Rourke isn’t the only one flying under the radar. He’s on an off-the-grid quest to track down a rogue ex-partner who hunts paranormal beings for the joy of the kill. Convincing the unexpectedly feisty Jackie to trust him isn’t easy, but there’s no better way to lure the hunter into the open than to dangle as unique a target as Jackie—the last Tasmanian Tiger shifter in existence.
Trouble is, Marshall hadn’t counted on Jackie’s brutal right cross. Or the fact that her simmering sexuality calls to his inner wolf on every imaginable level. And that the killer is about to use their desire to add them both to his trophy case…
Warning: This title contains the following: explicit sex out in the bush, wild shifter sex in an abandoned shack, passionate sex in a hotel shower. Plus a Texan hero with a very big secret, an Australian heroine with an even bigger one, a significant amount of violence and as always, Australian sarcasm.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Savage Transformation:
Her thylacine growled, surging though her being with rapid ease. Snatching back control had been hard. She’d shoved the need to transform down into the pit of her existence and half-walked, half-ran down the hotel’s stairs into the car park, scanning the area for any sign of Delanie.
And now here she was, walking around her best friend’s car, breathing shallow for fear of losing herself to her inner animal when she knew she should be breathing deep to detect any hint of Delanie’s location.
Then stop being a chicken shit and do it.
Coming to a standstill, wishing—again—she had her gun, Jackie closed her eyes and pulled in a long, slow breath.
There! Delanie.
Dark Destiny (Principatus) Page 26