Stop?
Madre del dio. There wasn’t a force in heaven or earth that could make him stop. Not when her slick heat was clamped around his erection, her hips rising to meet his thrusts with the hungry demand of a female Were.
Muttering soft words of encouragement, Salvatore shifted to bury his face in the curve of her neck, the mating bond roaring through him. The sense of Harley was not just physical, but branded on his every emotion.
She was a part of him.
For all eternity.
Feeling the gathering power of his orgasm, Salvatore grasped the tender flesh of her neck between his teeth, gripping her hips as he drove into her with rapid strokes.
His entire body tightened with a fierce joy.
Si. This was what sex between mates was supposed to be.
Intense, thrilling, and wild.
With a sharp cry, Harley reached her climax, raking her nails down his back as she convulsed around him.
The sensation was enough to catapult him over the edge, and tilting back his head, Salvatore roared in pleasure, allowing his seed to pour deep inside her.
For a breathless moment, he remained poised above her, then with a shuddering sigh he collapsed beside her, gathering her tight in his arms.
“Admit it,” he murmured, tenderly tucking a damp curl behind her ear.
“Admit what?”
“You find me irresistible.”
She snorted, shifting so she could meet his teasing gaze. “I find cheesecake irresistible, but that doesn’t make it good for me.”
“Cheesecake.” He studied her with a wicked smile. “Hmmm.”
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I was just imagining how delicious cheesecake would taste served on this decadent skin.” His fingers traced a path up the curve of her back. “What else do you find irresistible?”
She smiled with faux sweetness. “A loaded Smith and Wesson .357.”
“Sexy.”
Her eyes widened, then without warning, her choked laugh echoed through the vast room.
“For God’s sake, is there anything you don’t think is sexy?”
A poignant, entirely unreasonable warmth filled his heart at the genuine amusement shimmering in her eyes.
“Not when you’re near,” he husked.
“So predictably male.”
He pressed her closer, his cock already stirring with a ready passion.
“A wolf is never predictable…” His words broke off as a cold, sweeping power filled the air.
“What is it?” Harley demanded.
“The leeches are stirring.”
“Is that a problem?”
“I need to speak with Styx.”
“About what?”
He shrugged. His conversation with the Anasso was not something he intended to share.
At least not with Harley.
“Unfinished business.”
Her brows drew together in suspicion. “Could you be a little more vague?”
He brushed a light kiss over her lips. Time for a distraction.
“What about you, cara?”
“Me?”
“What are your plans?”
She stiffened in his arms, the wary expression returning with annoying predictability.
Ironic really.
Wasn’t it traditionally the role of the male to panic at the mention of “happily ever after”?
“For tonight?” She deliberately misunderstood. “Popcorn and a movie in bed sounds pretty good.”
It sounded better than good. It sounded like paradise.
A pity he had a few loose ends to tie up.
Which meant he had to leave Harley behind. At least for a few days.
He intended to make certain she would be safe until his return.
“Harley, you know what I’m asking,” he said softly.
“I don’t have an answer.”
“Do you intend to remain here with your sister?”
“Perhaps for a few days.”
“And then?”
Her expression hardened, her hands moving to press against his chest.
“That’s my business.”
Content with the knowledge that she was willing to remain with the vamps for at least a few days, Salvatore smiled. It shouldn’t take more than a day or two to finish his business, and then he could concentrate on his obstinate mate.
“There’s no need to jut that chin at me.” He kissed the chin in question and then the tip of her nose. “I have no intention of locking you in my lair. At least not in the foreseeable future.”
She frowned in confusion. “You’re just going to let me go?”
Let her go? When hell froze over.
He merely smiled. “You’re not my prisoner.”
Far from stupid, she narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “This is some sort of trick, isn’t it?”
“No trick.”
“It doesn’t bother you that your mate isn’t going to be with you?”
“As I said, we’ll figure this out in time.” Sliding out of bed, Salvatore scooped Harley into his arms and headed for the attached bathroom. “For now, I need a shower.”
She widened her eyes as he crossed the marble floor and entered the shower that could fit an entire army regiment.
“What are you doing?”
Setting her on her feet, Salvatore savored the scent of her sharp excitement that perfumed the air.
She could snap and snarl and pretend she wasn’t destined to spend the rest of her life with him, but this…
This she could never hide.
Turning on the hot water to spill over them, he skimmed his lips over her cheek, his hands cupping the perfect curve of her breasts.
“You can’t expect me to scrub my own back, woman,” he teased. “That’s what a mate is for.”
“Creep,” she whispered, a smile curving her lips as she plunged her fingers in his hair and kissed him with a hunger that had him pushing her against the ivory ceramic tiles and spreading her legs.
“And this…” With a slow, steady thrust, his cock was deep inside her. “Is what I’m for.”
She groaned, wrapping her legs around his waist.
“Not bad, Giuliani,” she whispered. “Not bad at all.”
An hour later, Harley was settled on the bed wrapped in a terrycloth robe, aimlessly flipping the channels on the plasma TV that had appeared, with a push of a button, from behind a sliding panel.
Her skin was pruny from the hour she’d spent in the shower with Salvatore, and her body deliciously sated, but she felt oddly restless as she shifted on the silken sheets and adjusted the pile of pillows behind her.
It would be simple enough to blame her fidgets on the chases, cave-ins, and numerous near-death experiences she’d endured over the past few days. What woman wouldn’t be twitchy?
Or even the fact that she was in an unfamiliar house, surrounded by dangerous demons who could call themselves family, but still were little more than strangers.
She knew, however, those weren’t the true reasons she couldn’t relax.
No.
Her inability to relax was directly due to Salvatore.
Or more precisely, the absence of Salvatore.
Damn the man.
After their prolonged, and deliciously erotic shower, Salvatore had dressed in one of the numerous designer suits that had been left in the walk-in closet, and pulled back his hair with a leather cord. Then with a lingering kiss, he’d taken off in search of Styx, leaving her to enjoy a quiet evening alone.
Exactly what she wanted.
So why did the humongous bed feel empty and the night stretch before her with a tedious boredom?
She clenched her teeth, jabbing her finger on the channel button of the remote control as she scrolled past infomercials, reruns of Green Acres, and a number of movies that involved an abundance of naked bodies and juvenile humor. There were a thousand channels. One of them had to have something worth watching
.
She had just started on her third run through the channels when a light tap on the door offered a welcomed distraction.
Tossing aside the remote, she sucked in a deep breath, recognizing the scent of her sister.
“Darcy?”
“I come bearing gifts,” she called through the thick wood of the door. “Can I join you?”
“Of course.” Harley slid off the bed, her eyes widening in surprise as Darcy wheeled in a small cart that was overflowing with stacks of movies, bowls of popcorn, and large ceramic mugs. “How did you know…Salvatore.”
“He mentioned you wanted popcorn and a movie. I thought we could watch together if you don’t mind.” Darcy flashed a charming smile, looking decidedly impish in her casual shorts and skimpy top, her blond hair spiked. “I brought everything from Die Hard to You’ve Got Mail.”
“Definitely Die Hard,” Harley said before she could halt the revealing words. Hoping to cover her ridiculous aversion to romance, she bent to peer into the ceramic cups. “Hot chocolate?”
“My weakness.” Darcy perched on the edge of the bed as she waved a hand toward a delicately scrolled armoire. “There’s whiskey in the cabinet if you want it with a kick.”
Harley grimaced, joining her sister on the bed. “I prefer to keep my wits intact when Salvatore is around.”
“Ah.” Darcy tilted her head, studying her with an unnervingly perceptive gaze. “Very wise.”
Harley ran a self-conscious hand through her still damp curls.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
Darcy grimaced. “I’m sorry. Nothing is a secret in the demon world.”
“What secret?”
“You’ve completed the mating bond.”
Harley pressed her hands to her face. Was that a blush heating her skin? Frigging hell. She was an idiot.
“Yes.”
“So, you’re Queen of the Weres. Congratulations.”
Disbelief jolted through her. Queen of Weres. She’d been so rattled by the shock of being mated to Salvatore that the rest of the baggage he brought with him had skimmed right over her head.
Until now.
She groaned, flopping back on the mattress.
“Oh, my God,” she moaned. “What the hell have I gotten myself into?”
“Harley?” Darcy’s worried face abruptly hovered over her. “Forgive me. I have a habit of putting my foot in my mouth.”
Harley heaved a sigh that came from the tips of her toes. “It’s not you, Darcy. It’s Salvatore Giuliani.”
“Typical.” Darcy scooted back so Harley could push herself up on her elbows. “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”
“All of this,” Harley muttered.
“Could you be a little more specific?”
Harley shivered, briefly closing her eyes. Even from a distance, she could sense Salvatore. He was in a room directly below her, pacing the floor with a barely controlled impatience that she felt as vividly as if it were her own emotion.
She lifted her head to meet Darcy’s gaze. “I’m not sure I want to be a mate, let alone the freaking Queen of Weres.”
Darcy’s lips twisted at her plaintive, yes, maybe even childish, tone.
“Get in line,” she said bluntly.
“Excuse me?”
“I seem to have this conversation a lot over the past few days,” she said with a rueful shake of her head. “Harley, you aren’t the first woman to be…”
“Unhinged?” she helpfully supplied.
Darcy chuckled. “Okay, unhinged, by the thought of being irrevocably bound to a male. Especially if that male happens to be an arrogant, overbearing, far-too-fond-of-giving-orders demon.”
“You?”
“In case you haven’t noticed, Styx tends to take arrogance to an epic level. He’s quite convinced that he’s been put on this earth to take command of everyone and everything. Including me.”
“Why didn’t you run?”
“I did.”
Harley jerked in astonishment. Not even the most cynical demon could fail to appreciate the devotion between Darcy and her vampire.
“Really?”
Darcy wrinkled her nose, clearly recalling one of those memories that you could only laugh about later.
“Styx and I had our own share of troubles.”
“Obviously you came back.”
“Because distance doesn’t change anything.” Darcy shrugged. “My bond to Styx isn’t just an ancient demon rite or sappy exchange of vows. He’s a part of me.” She pressed a hand to her heart. “Wherever I am.”
The words did precisely nothing to reassure Harley.
“So you just gave up and let Styx take over your life?” she demanded.
Darcy’s eyes widened before she fell backwards on the bed, her laughter bouncing off the vaulted ceiling and echoing through the priceless chandeliers.
“Only in his dreams,” she at last managed to gasp, sitting up to wipe the tears from her face. “Actually, if you asked Styx he would tell you that I’ve completely taken over his life, and that he’s not even allowed to step out of the house without asking my permission.”
Harley frowned. The big, scary King of Vampires asking permission?
“I don’t believe it.”
“The truth is that we have both learned to compromise,” she said. “Styx has grudgingly accepted that I’m capable of making my own decisions, and I’ve grudgingly accepted that his position as Anasso means that he has to put himself in danger far too often.” She reached to grasp Harley’s hand. “It doesn’t mean that we don’t still have our moments, but we’ve learned we can discuss the situation and find a solution we can both live with.”
“Compromise? Salvatore? Yeah, right.” Harley snorted at the mere suggestion. Salvatore would learn to compromise when pigs learned to fly. “I don’t think so.”
“Trust me, Harley. He will learn to compromise because he won’t have a choice.”
“You obviously don’t know the pain-in-the-ass Were as well as you think you do.”
Darcy leaned forward, her expression oddly serious.
“I know that a male demon might be obsessed with his need to protect his mate, but he’s equally obsessed with his need to make her happy.” She caught and held Harley’s gaze. “The moment that Styx senses his overprotective habits are suffocating me, he has no choice but to back off.”
There was no doubting the sincerity in Darcy’s voice. She truly believed a demon like Salvatore could be tamed.
Not that Harley actually wanted to tame Salvatore.
No. Of course not.
She wanted…
What?
A frightening ache unfurled in the center of her heart. An ache that was directly connected to Salvatore Giuliani.
Dammit.
He made her crazy with the thought of being mated. And at the same time, he made her crazy with the thought of ever leaving him.
In other words, he flat-out made her crazy.
Shifting uneasily, Harley turned her attention to the stack of movies on the tray.
“Actually, I just want to forget Salvatore and our…mating for the next couple of hours.”
Darcy looked as if she wanted to press the benefits of being mated to an uberalpha demon with a throne, but easily recognizing the stubborn expression on Harley’s face, she heaved a rueful sigh.
“That should be simple enough.” She grabbed one of the mugs of hot chocolate.
Simple?
Harley lifted her brows, sensing she was missing something.
“Why do you say that?”
“When I spoke with Salvatore a short time ago, he mentioned he was leaving tonight and might be gone several days. We’ll have plenty of time to get to know one another without being bothered by the King of Weres.”
“Leaving?”
A sharp alarm had Harley off the bed and storming toward the door.
Salvatore hadn’t said a word to her about a road trip.
So either he was making plans for her without asking her opinion.
Or he intended to leave her behind.
Either way, he was going to get his assed kicked.
Chapter Twenty-One
Salvatore didn’t need anyone to tell him that he was an idiot.
What male, especially a male werewolf, would willingly leave the warm, welcoming arms of his mate?
Unfortunately, he was also a king, which meant he couldn’t avoid his responsibilities. No matter what the temptation.
Reminding himself that the sooner he was done with his business the sooner he could return to Harley, Salvatore forced his reluctant feet to carry him down to the kitchen to briefly speak with Darcy, and then to the back of the mansion where he found Styx.
Entering the long narrow room, he lifted his brows in amused appreciation.
Like the rest of the house, the room was drenched with a profusion of ivory and gilt, with massive chandeliers that hung from a cavernous ceiling. But instead of delicate furnishings and expensive carpeting, the walls were lined with glass cases that held rows of weapons. Guns, swords, crossbows, maces, daggers…the only thing missing was a rocket launcher, and Salvatore wouldn’t have been surprised if there was one or two tucked inside the wooden cabinets at the back of the room.
The floor was an expensive parquet affair, patterned in a sunburst, but there were also a half dozen workout mats tossed across the glossy wood, with casual indifference to the beauty of the craftsmanship.
Salvatore had his own armory and Olympic-sized gym in his Roman lair. What demon didn’t? But the contrast between the frilly French décor and the brutal arsenal was absurd enough to bring a smile to his lips.
He took another step forward, his gaze catching sight of Styx in a far corner.
The ancient vampire was wearing nothing more than a loose pair of yoga pants, with his long hair pulled back in a braid as he whirled a massive sword through the air. His movements were fluid and perfectly measured, the mark of a true swordsman.
A predator.
Salvatore’s wolf stirred in instinctive response.
Weeks ago, he and Styx had pitted their strengths against each other.
Styx had won that battle, arrogant bloodsucker, but Salvatore knew that things would be different now. With the demon lord dead and the power of his mating with Harley pulsing through his blood, he would prove a far greater match for the ancient vampire.
Beyond the Darkness Page 25