by Mary Hughes
I set the empty glass aside. His lips were glistening from the wine and I couldn’t resist a quick taste. I pulled his head in with both hands.
His arms braced on the bed behind him. His jaw kicked up, lips parted. His eyes closed, lashes long and golden against his cheeks.
I tasted his mouth slowly. Licked the delectable corners. Nibbled his luscious lower lip, warm and wet.
It was heady, and it was frightening. Heady because he tasted oh-so-spicy, male. Frightening, because as I nibbled I realized just how much bigger his mouth was, how much bigger he was. How immensely powerful. Where he could take my whole lip in one bite, it took me a couple nips to catch all his.
But he didn’t move a single muscle as I tasted him. Didn’t try to stop me or take control again. All that size, all that power, thrumming under me, yielding to me.
I got more daring. Bit his lip. Raked teeth over his earlobe. Nipped along his jaw. His neck. His chest.
He hissed with my sharp bites. Stiffened just a little more with each, until his hips actually raised from the bed. His eyes flared open, golden with lust. His cock tented his jeans like Liberty’s torch.
Feeling for the glass, I found and filled it again. I did it slowly, allowing time for some of the tension in his body to ease. But not all. Seductress. By no means all.
When his hips touched down I dipped a fingerful of wine and painted it across the tops of my breasts. His eyes, so very hot on me, made being sexy and tempting come more naturally. “Now if you promise to behave, I’ll let you lick this off.” I didn’t have to work so much at the purr either. Not with my throat tingling and body buzzing.
Tentatively, Logan reached out with his tongue. It was sweet, how the masterful male was acting almost shy. Slightly drunk by now, his natural imperative to dominate softened, maybe he had lost full control of himself. He’s enjoying this, I realized in a flash of insight.
Or maybe he let me take over simply because he trusted me. That was a scary thought.
His tongue touched my breast, flicked lightly across the wet skin. Tiny supple licks, oh so light. I painted myself again.
He licked more boldly, broader swipes, leaving great swathes glistening along my breasts. His lids lowered until his eyes were golden, gleaming slits. A rumbling purr started from his chest.
I painted myself a third time. He sat up fully, his hands finding my thighs, strong fingers wrapping around me and holding me in place.
I set the wine aside, cupped his golden head and pressed him into my bosom.
His easy grace faltered. He began licking me urgently, became almost raw in his need. His tongue was rough, like a cat. His fangs scraped harshly against my skin. I decided I loved Logan uncontrolled. His mouth worshiped me, devoured me. He began to take little nips, suck little love marks.
But when his fang tips pressed intimately into my breast, I put one hand under his glorious hair, lifted it away. Bent and whispered directly into his ear. “Behave, Logan.”
His mouth paused. His breath heated my skin as I waited. His eyes closed and his nostrils flared. I could just see the beat of a vein in his temple as he fought to restrain himself.
He lost the battle. With a soft moan, he bit down.
So did I.
Logan’s lobe was tender between my teeth, and I bit hard. He gasped, bucked, but didn’t withdraw. Didn’t try to stop me when I bit again.
And his rumbling purr got so loud it filled the room.
The heady smell of arousal mixed with the scent of warm candle wax. I cupped both hands around Logan’s granite jaw and pushed. His fangs popped out of my breast. Blood trickled hot down the curve.
Logan jerked under my hand, his nostrils flared wide, his eyes burning. Even I could smell the coppery tang. The scent must have been driving him insane.
Just the way I wanted it.
I slowly reached for the wineglass. “Drink.”
“But I need—”
“Drink.” He opened his mouth and I made him drink off every last drop before I let him lick the hot threads on my breast.
When I finally released him he fell to, lapped and lapped at my bosom, his tongue like fiery toweling. He was so lost in the act that he never registered me opening the snap and zipper on his jeans.
I pushed him flat with a single, hard shove. I never thought I’d be grateful for tenth grade gym, but a quick squat thrust laid me out along his legs. My face over his hips, I was in perfect position to suck his cock down my throat. I opened my mouth and pushed my head down on his prodigious length. Then I half-swallowed, torturing the sensitive glans with rippling cartilage.
Logan arched hard. His hips drove forward, thrusting his massive erection past my larynx. I gagged, pulled back, coughing.
“Oh, fuck, Liese, I’m so sorry.” Logan knifed up, caught me with concerned hands. “I didn’t mean…I should have controlled…”
Swinging a knee over his hips, I shut him up simply by hooking the crotch of my thong aside and ramming my wet sex onto his erection.
He shouted, unintelligible words, but the sentiment was hot damn fuck. I knew because I felt the same as lightning jags skewered me from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet.
With Logan’s powerful body pinned under me, his enormous erection throbbing deep inside me, I went just a little crazy. I lost track of seduction, I lost track of slow. Hooking my ankles over his thighs, denim crisp against my insteps, I held him in place for the pummeling of his just-shy-of-four-hundred-year-old life.
I rode him like an animal. I had no thought beyond my own pleasure, no need but my own orgasm, building beyond hot to explosive. My thighs rubbed raw against his jeans. My nails bit into the rocks of his pectorals. My pubic bone slammed into his with such force it almost cracked. My breath wheezed, fire in my lungs.
I couldn’t stop. My climax was coming, bigger and sweeter than anything I’d ever known. Logan arched back, his eyes closed and his fangs straining. His hands gripped my upper arms. “Fuck, Liese.” His voice cracked. “You’re an oven. I can’t…I’m trying to hold back but…fuck me, I’m coming!”
“Not without me, you’re not.” I snarled it, riding him so hard I was nearly weeping.
Instantly he seized my hair. With incredible, negligent strength, he pulled me down. My arms buckled, my stroking hips faltered.
His hand splayed over the base of my spine, pressing me flat to him. For that instant I lay motionless, his skin silky and slick against mine, his heart beating hard, his purr rumbling my bones.
“Lord, Liese. I love you.” His murmur was hot against my neck, just before he bit me.
Fangs sank into my flesh, unleashing a thunderstorm. Orgasm hit me like lightning, blew through me like a typhoon.
Holding my hips captive, Logan pistoned up into me, driving me higher into the storm. He rolled and pumped with a muscular male strength that overwhelmed me. I burst again. My legs quivered and collapsed. He purred and rode and licked with as much power and dominance as if he’d been on top. And bit my neck again.
I climaxed a third time, a bright blast of pleasure that leveled me. My whole being exploded. The orgasm ripped through me so hard I could feel my vagina spasm around his thrusting cock, clasping it, milking it.
Logan roared and drove in to the hilt. He ruptured, hot pleasure pouring into me. His hand fisted in my hair, his fingers dug into my butt. He wasn’t so much licking my neck as devouring it. And groaning between licks, “I love you. Oh, Liese, I love you.”
Afterward I lay boneless on his muscled torso. My mind was a comfortable blank.
That way I wouldn’t have to deal with those terrible three words.
I was scared shitless, of course. Afraid the words really didn’t mean anything. Botcher had said them all the time and they’d turned out to be worthless.
Strangely, I was even more afraid Logan meant every one.
Tonight was supposed to be about driving a wedge between us, not bonding us closer. I clenched my jaw. Didn’t matte
r if Logan meant the words or not. I had to dig him out of my heart then cauterize the wound. I had to finish this.
My plan was to bring down Logan Steel’s powerful personal barriers with sex. To discover his deepest, darkest secret. Now I just had to find out if it had worked.
I hesitated. Did I really want to know? Did I deserve to know?
Probably not. But it had to be done.
Just get on with it. “So,” I said as casually as I could. The fact that I was still limp as a cat in a sunbeam helped. “Do you want your own household?”
“Mmm?”
“Because you’re a perfect choice.”
“What?” he murmured.
Wasn’t he supposed to be the chatty one after sex? “You’re perfect to head a household. You can make things happen. You’re a problem solver, organized.”
“Mmm.”
He was falling asleep. I prodded him. “Zinnia says you’ve even trained for it.”
One eye opened sluggishly. “I hate that woman.”
That made me smile. “No, you don’t. What you hate is that she’s right. She represents something you don’t want to do, but know you have to. What I can’t figure out is why.”
“She’s a sadist,” he mumbled.
“Not why she’s doing it, silly. Why you’re avoiding it.”
“Oh. ’Cuz.” His hand rubbed drowsily over my spine. But I got the feeling he wasn’t as sleepy as before.
I rolled off him. “Because why?”
He drew in a breath, let it out slowly. Drew another. Let it out on a grunt. “So doggedly stubborn.” He gathered me in his arms, taking the sting out of his words. “Can’t we just cuddle a little?”
I snuggled into his side. “Elena said you had a household before this. Was your past experience that bad?”
A silence. Definitely awake now. “Define bad.”
“Um…Zinnia badgering you to march down Pennsylvania Avenue for vampire rights?” When that failed to get even a small laugh I winced. This was not going to be pretty.
Finally he said, “It’s rather…painful.”
“All the more reason to tell me.” I laid my hand on his chest. His heartbeat had accelerated. “You’ll feel better sharing it. Please?”
“Liese, if I’d tell anyone, I’d tell you. But it happened centuries ago. Over, fini. No one remembers it, not even me.”
I peeked up. His eyes, topaz pain, said otherwise. “Not even the Ancient One?”
That drew a grunt. “He remembers. But only because he remembers everything. Liese, I really don’t want to talk about it.”
“But it’s important.” I raised myself on my arms and took his gorgeous face between my palms. Sure, I needed to know his secret to drive a wedge into my heart. But now there was more to it than that.
This secret was hurting Logan. Like Botcher had hurt me. Strong Logan Steel was troubled over householding because something bad had happened. And not just bad enough to smart sixteen months. Bad enough that the pain was vivid centuries later.
Soul-scarring bad.
“Logan, you need to talk. Trust me to handle the truth.”
He blew a vexed breath. “Doggedly stubborn? I should have said pigheaded. Liese, I had a household and decided it was too much work. End of story.” He tried to glare.
But I met his eyes, letting the warm compassion I felt speak for me.
His gaze softened, puzzled, hesitant. “It’s not very nice.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” I kissed him gently.
“Well…if you must know… I had a household but it didn’t make enough money. You know I’m a businessman, and money—”
“Logan, you don’t have to lie. I want you to tell me, but I’ll wait until you’re ready.”
A silence descended. This was no longer about my need, but his. Whatever he had to tell me, I’d listen.
Chapter Fourteen
Expressions crossed Logan’s face. Puzzlement, annoyance, and finally a glimmer of raw pain. “You shouldn’t know. That I’m lying, I mean. I should be able to make up a story to satisfy you. I’ve had centuries of experience. I should be able to lie to you and make you believe it.” He clenched his eyes shut. “But I don’t want to.”
When his eyes opened again, they were a shimmering gold. “I don’t want to lie to you anymore, Liese. If anyone deserves the truth, you do.”
Again he closed his eyes, perhaps searching for strength. Powerful, implacable Logan Steel, searching for strength. It must really be bad. My heart ached for him.
“Well. My first and only experience householding. I had just turned one hundred. That’s when the ability to mist manifests.”
He was doing it. Logan was actually telling me his deepest, darkest secret. This was big, huge. A flash of intuition told me to keep my reactions low-key.
Yes, I had a flash of intuition. If I weren’t concentrating so hard on not screwing up I would have been amazed. “You have to be able to mist to be master of a household?”
“You have to be able to defend your household. The ability to mist is a huge advantage in doing that. Misting’s iffy the first few years, but not for me.” A self-mocking smile twisted his lips. “I was especially good at it. I thought I was ready.”
“That’s why you formed the household?”
“No. I formed it because Adelaide insisted.”
Jealousy curled in my stomach. I sat up, drawing my knees to my chin. “Your wife.”
He rubbed a hand along my spine. “Not wife, and not mine. Adelaide was my brother Luke’s fiancée, a human. Like most human females of the time, she wanted to marry. Luke was besotted, would have done anything to please her. I founded a household so they could settle down.”
Logan had a brother who was a vampire? Did that explain Zinnia’s golden children? “Why didn’t Luke form the household? Or live just with her?”
“Luke wasn’t able to mist yet. At least, not reliably. He asked me to help.”
“The three of you.” An Adelaide sandwich. By himself Logan burned me to cinders. With two of them, she probably had to change her name to Char.
“Householding was the only way Luke could safely settle down. This was before blood banks, when we still had to drink directly from humans. As nomads, Luke and I could move on if anyone got suspicious. Staying in one place risked people discovering what we were.”
I wrapped my arms around my shins. “So settling down was dangerous.”
“Yes. Oh, we could hypnotize people into not remembering. But the human mind is tricky. Someone might recall something at any time, or put together repeated episodes of dizziness. I thought a household would decrease that risk.”
“Because the donors are in on the secret?”
“Yes, and because it’s voluntary, and they have a vested interest in it. I thought it all out very carefully, rationally. We were so young in those days.” Logan fell silent. Remorse sat starkly on his gorgeous features.
“What happened?” I reached out to brush a strand of hair from his face.
He captured my fingers, kissed them one by one. “With a household, the risk is decreased for the vampires. But if the master isn’t seasoned enough, it increases the risk for the humans. They’re sitting ducks, you see.”
“Aren’t all humans sitting ducks?”
“Well, yes, but in those days…there’s a feudal mindset that’s hard to explain. The closest is the parent-child relation. The child expects the parent to make it all better, no matter what. It’s beyond trust, it’s a belief.”
“Your humans believed you could keep them safe.”
“Yes. And, cocky imbecile that I was, I believed it too. Until the rogues struck.” Logan passed a hand through his golden hair. “I can still see it, skewed, like a nightmare. Five of them, two of us. We were strong, fast. Two of the attackers were fledglings, easily dispatched. I was enjoying myself—enjoying it.” He blew out his disgust. “We’d beheaded two of them. Luke was fighting the third. I was grappling with the fourth
, an older one. Bigger, heavily muscled, but slow. Not yet a hundred. I tasted victory.
“But the fifth rogue was older than any of us. He waited until I had my opponent in a headlock, then slashed my ribs so hard it felt like a bolt of lightning. While I finished my opponent off, the fifth rogue misted to penetrate the house.” Logan sat up abruptly, like guilt had knifed him in the belly. His head bent and he fell silent.
“But you said you could mist too. Didn’t you go after him?”
“Certainly I went after him.” Logan’s voice was low, self-mocking. “I dropped into mist—except it didn’t work. I tried again, stayed disturbingly solid. I tried a third time and found I wasn’t as proficient as I thought. At least, not under stress.”
“Couldn’t you get inside another way? A door or something?”
“That’s what I finally had to do. I ran like the wind. But mist…mist is almost instantaneous. I was too late. The rogue had opened Adelaide’s carotid. Drunk her dry.”
He dashed away a wetness in his eyes. He managed to make the gesture look powerful and masculine. “I can still see it. The rest of the household cowered in the corner of the room, men, women and children. I’d taught them that, you see. When rogues attack, come to the dining room and stay together. I was so fucking smart.
“I engaged the rogue, but he was old. Much stronger and faster than any vampire I’d ever met. And he used mist to fight. Disappeared, reappeared behind me. Slashed me open before misting out again. I knew if I lost, my humans were easy pickings. My humans knew that too.” Logan groaned, a sound of deep misery. “I can still see their faces, the despair. The knowledge that they were going to die.”
“So they all…all of them? Even the children?”
“No. Not because of my brilliance and strength, though.” Logan gave a scornful laugh. “By the grace of whatever agency, an Ancient was in the area and heard the fighting. The instant he misted in, the rogue misted out.”
“And it was over.”
His jaw clenched. “It was just starting. Luke’s wife was dead. Luke was devastated. The humans of my household were so traumatized I didn’t know what to do. Hell, I was just as shocked. I don’t know what I would have done, if the Ancient One hadn’t taken us all into his care.”