by Alison Paige
His hand would tremble as he gripped the stiff cock, wagging eager and ready from his body. He’d tighten his fingers around the root, his palm warm and smooth as he stroked the shaft to the fat lip of its head. His breath would catch each time his fingers rippled over that lip, his thumb teasing over the hole at the center before drawing the sweet friction back down to its base.
The sensation was like nothing he’d ever known or imagined, agonizingly pleasurable and dangerously addictive. Each caress seemed to echo through his body, vibrating through his blood so his whole body hummed with the feel of it, wanting more. More.
He’d discovered quickly enough that the heavy sack of his testicles sent knee-weakening jolts through his body if he toyed with them as he caressed his cock. He’d become a master of the dueling actions while his mind filled with the vision of his sensual slumbering Raven. With each passing second his pumping strokes would go faster, his hand gripping tighter. He’d rock his hips with the growing rhythm, driving his cock through his hand. Thigh muscles tense, his gut pulled, his mind spinning with wicked, lurid thoughts.
Sweet Lucifer, how he longed to press his lips to Morrigan’s soft flesh, to taste her lips, to feel her puckered nipple against his tongue. She’d shift and turn in her sleep, giving him a great view of her pulpy round ass and flashing the pink glistening flesh between her legs. Akram’s muscles would snap tight at the sight. He wanted to drive his too-hard cock deep into those soft, wet folds, to possess her body like he’d never done before.
The thoughts would only add to the mounting sensation swirling through his body, pressing against his skin till it seemed if he didn’t concede to them soon, he’d be torn to bits.
His breaths would tear through his lungs, shallow and fast. Fatigue begging him to stop, but the hypnotic, electrifying feel of his hand pumping his cock wouldn’t permit it. He’d have to finish, pushing closer and closer to that distant, indescribable reward. And then suddenly he was holding back, making his needy body wait just a moment longer. Sweet, sweet denial.
Ultimately, inevitably, his focus would zero in on the sublime form of his dear Morrigan, her milky skin, her silky hair, the soft, feminine curves of her body. His restraint would falter as the rush of wants and needs bombarded his will again. His knees would buckle, thwarted by the release roaring through his body, turning his bones to rubber and staining the footboard with his host’s seed.
For hours more he’d stay there, watching her, horrified by her power over him, marveling at his want of it…of her. How had this happened? How had a powerful Leshii demon fallen so pathetically? And why didn’t he care?
Akram blinked from his thoughts, pulling a cleansing breath through his nose, clearing his mind.
“For the record,” she said the moment she was near enough. “This trip was your idea. I’m only here because I have to follow where you lead.”
Akram turned toward the window display, banishing all emotion from his expression. “Yes, Morrigan. I know you were loath to come along, as was quite evident in the way you snatched the tickets from my hand and raced down the jetway to reach your seat in hopes the plane might lift off sooner.”
“Whatever.” He caught her shrug out of the corner of his eye and felt the tug of his answering smile. He refused it, though he did enjoy proving he knew her better than she knew herself.
Morrigan knotted her arms under her breasts and shifted her weight to one narrow hip, drawing his attention back to her like a dancer on a stage.
She’d been just a slip of a girl when he’d contracted her, but over the years her body had gradually taken on the gentle swells and seductive curves of a woman. She had an athletic build, with small, but obvious breasts beneath the snug fit of her T-shirt and rounder hips, though still narrow enough for fast, fluid movement.
“What are you staring at?”
His gaze jumped to hers. An instant later, irritation at his absentminded appreciation of her form drew his brows tight. “It’s nearly seventy degrees. Must you always wear black?”
“It’s my thing,” she said. “What do you care? I look good in black.”
She did. He let the thought vanish in his mind as quickly as it had formed and pointed to the necklace he’d spotted for her earlier. “That one with the bird’s claw seems apropos.”
“It’s nice.” She shifted closer to the window and to him. His lungs gave a sharp squeeze when her shoulder brushed his, but Akram kept a stranglehold on his outward response. Her scent, fresh air and wildflowers—from time spent foraging for seed—clouded around him, unavoidable.
He breathed her in, then glanced up when their reflection in the shop window caught his attention. The breath he’d taken, her scent inside him, held. Sweet hellfire, they looked like a couple. A normal, human couple.
Akram exhaled, mesmerized by the sight of them side by side. He slipped his arm around her, cupping her small shoulder in the palm of his hand like he’d seen so many human couples do. The gesture drew her close, pressed their bodies together, her heat warming along his side. He liked it.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
He flicked his gaze to hers, then nodded back toward the glass. “Look at us. We could pass as a couple.”
But she didn’t look. By their reflection he could see she was staring at him directly, and looked back to her. Akram had tried not to pay much attention to her beauty, though he was constantly aware of it. He’d reason it wasn’t unlike one might acknowledge a well-presented meal.
She was birdlike in so many ways, a slender nose with a soft point at the tip, a small bow mouth, a rounded chin and midnight-blue, almost black eyes framed in thick black lashes. There was little difference between her and any other female human or Raven he’d met.
But the way she looked at him now altered his perception. Her lids low over eyes so warmly inviting sent sudden, strange heat radiating through his veins, tightening his muscles, making his mouth go dry.
His gaze dropped to her lips, zeroing in on the delicate shine, the plump pink flesh. He leaned toward her, drawn as though she pulled him on a string.
She flinched back. “Except we’re not a couple. We can’t be. Right?”
Her brows went up. Hopeful? He couldn’t be sure and erred on the side of familiarity and reason. He dropped his arm from her shoulder, put a step of distance between them. “Right. So choose something already.”
Morrigan deflated as though she’d been holding her breath while he answered. A smile flickered across her face, more obligatory then heartfelt.
“Yeah. Well, if this is a bribe, I want to see all my options.” She slipped around behind him and glided into the store. Akram followed at her heel like one of her mindless marks.
The satisfaction that warmed through his chest as he latched the white-gold chain with the bird’s claw around her neck was worth the high price tag. He knew his little Raven so well.
“Stop it,” she said, her back to him, holding the tail of hair up and out of the way.
“Stop what?”
“That smug grin of yours.” She let her hair fall and turned, fiddling with the pendant, centering it in the little niche between her collarbones.
His fingers flexed, clenched and opened, itching to trace the ridge of skin where her delicate bones pressed, to touch the soft flesh beneath the pendant, to touch her. He shoved his hands into his pockets.
“I don’t grin,” he said, pulling his lips to a straight line, denying the expression beaming in his chest.
“Right. Your face might break. Someone might mistake you for actually having feelings. My bad.”
A single eyebrow lifted. “I have feelings.”
“Not that anyone could tell,” she said, turning to lead the way along the narrow, lava-stone street. “I don’t think I’ve ever even heard you laugh.”
“I’ve found nothing so moving to induce the emotion.”
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “In fifty-one years you’ve found nothing to laugh about
? That’s…sad.”
He thought about that for a moment, then shook his head. “No. Not sad or humorous. It simply…is.”
“I remember thinking how morose you were when I was a girl, when we first came together,” she said, blatantly ignoring his denials. “I remember trying so hard to make you laugh.”
“Yes. I was grateful when that phase in your development passed.” He quickened his pace so their strides matched, their shoulders brushed. Why did her touch alone make his body warm and hunger for more?
She laughed softly, barely enough to shake her shoulders, but the sound rippled through him like pure honey. He glanced away to endure the effect.
“Was I really that much of a pain-in-the-ass?” she asked.
“Yes.” No.
“Right. ’Cause you were such a pleasure.” She sighed, her smile faltering. “Fifty-one years, ninety-nine souls, it’s almost over. Do you realize I’ve spent more of my life with you than I have my own family?”
“A Raven’s life is long,” he said. “You’ve many years left to enjoy.”
“Yeah, just pick up where I left off,” she said, her voice distracted as she scanned the opening street. “Easy.”
After a right turn and a small uphill grade, the street opened onto the Piazza Tasso, the main square of Sorrento. The busy square offered a breathtaking view of the sea far below, while shops and bustling outdoor cafés edged the wide street. Cars and tour buses and humming scooters whizzed by in a frenzy of traffic patterns everyone seemed to understand instinctively.
Morrigan strolled to the outer tables of a small café, her eyes enviously scanning the customers seated among the sandwich shop’s outdoor tables. A wide canvas awning shaded them from the Mediterranean sun and made for a quaint Italian scene. Akram couldn’t read her mind. He didn’t have to.
“Hungry?”
Her dark gaze swung to him, her cheeks pinking with her smile. She nodded and Akram gestured for them to enter the café seating area, enclosed by a low, wrought-iron fence.
Akram followed two steps behind, allowing her space to fully appreciate her coming surprise.
“Morrigan?” Someone said off to the side of the large seating area. “Hey, Mama Ray, it is her. Look, it’s Morrigan.”
Morrigan swung her gaze, a smile blooming across her face, lighting her from the inside out like the sun behind a wisp of cloud. Akram’s chest pinched, and he couldn’t look away. Morrigan’s flock had arrived just as he’d planned.
Bloody hell.
“Nickolas?” Morrigan narrowed her eyes. It couldn’t be true. After so many years…her family, her entire flock? Here? The group looked like a band of Gypsies filling nearly one full side of the outdoor café. All of them with dark hair and dark eyes just like her, just like all Ravens.
By the looks of their hand-sewn clothes, her family’s values hadn’t changed. They kept life simple, believing the rewards of their gift, their craft, should be savored in the moment, not hoarded for some intangible rainy day.
Which Morrigan realized now was just a nice way of saying they were perpetually broke, their bounty never lasting more than a few days. She didn’t miss that kind of constant insecurity, especially now that she knew what it was not to worry about money, food, shelter. Akram provided her with everything she could possibly need. Almost everything.
Morrigan’s belly fluttered at the thought. If not for his inability to feel, to love, Akram could make an ideal mate for a Raven. That and the fact he consumed human souls to survive.
It was Nickolas who got to his feet first, zigzagging through the crush of tables and chairs to the isle, arms wide for an embrace. The rest of the family members were close at his heels.
Arms and bodies pressed around her, hugging the breath out of her. Morrigan couldn’t stop grinning. Nickolas had started the hug fest, and he ended it, too, his arms, his strength, his scent the last to leave her.
Old Spice, summer wind and the faintest hint of sunflower—his favorite, Nickolas’s scent would be forever imprinted on her psyche. Once upon a time, when they were very, very young, she and Nickolas had promised to love each other forever. And then Akram took her away.
The memory pinched her chest, but Morrigan banished it with a deep breath. Akram wasn’t what she’d thought back then, wasn’t what she’d thought last year. There was more to him than his self-serving demands. Morrigan just wasn’t sure what she wanted to do with that information.
She stepped from Nickolas’s arms, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear, straightening her hug-wrinkled shirt. “What are you all doing here? How’d you get here?”
“We flew,” a young girl said, sashaying up to Nickolas, her full, wine-colored lips making her innocent smile just shy of sexy. “On an air-o-plane.”
Morrigan’s belly twisted, her vision going green. “Who’s this?” she asked Nickolas, forcing a smile with clenched teeth.
“That’s Sophia. My daughter. Your niece.” Morrigan hadn’t even noticed her big sister until she spoke, standing behind their mother. “She’s fourteen.”
“Fourteen,” Morrigan repeated, more to herself than anyone. The same age she’d been when she was taken from her family.
Gut instincts washed an icy chill down her spine. “How did you afford the plane tickets?”
“Morrigan,” Akram said before anyone could answer. “Will you not introduce me? Let’s start with this young gentlemen here. He looks particularly happy to see you.”
Morrigan turned to face Akram, his hands casually pressed into the front pockets of his slacks, his golden eyes hidden behind his dark sunglasses. His smile was a poor imitation. She’d seen it before. There was nothing warm or humorous about it. Despite the dark glasses Akram’s expression was cold as stone.
Nickolas stepped beside her, the feel of his arm sliding around her shoulders so familiar even after so many years. “I’m Nickolas, of the Crete flock. A very close childhood friend of Morrigan’s. And who might you be?”
Akram gave a gracious bow, very old world, very cold. “I am Akram. Morrigan is my honored companion.”
Nickolas stiffened against her, his arm hugging her more tightly.
“Akram?” young Sofia said. “But that was the name on the envelope. Wasn’t it, Nickolas?”
Nickolas gave a single nod. “It was.”
“Envelope?” Morrigan asked.
“We got an envelope, hand-delivered. Tickets and cash inside,” Nickolas said, his dark eyes steady on Akram. Akram held his chilling smile. “The only other thing in the envelope was a note. It said if we ever wanted to see you again, we should come here. Today.”
In a flash, puzzle pieces clicked into place. One hundred souls and one Raven to succeed her. Morrigan was one soul away from completing her duty to the demon.
And he was one step closer to choosing her replacement.
CHAPTER THREE
“So that’s him?” Nickolas asked, his arm around her shoulders as they walked. “He’s handsome.”
“Ya think?” Morrigan said. “Thanks. I picked the body.”
“You always choose handsome hosts for him?” The corners of his eyes tightened, lines deepened beneath the thick waves of his bangs. “Must make the sex interesting. A different lover every…” He looked at her. “How many months?”
“What? No.” Morrigan flicked her gaze from Nickolas to Akram, walking ahead of them next to Mama Ray. “I’m his huntress. I don’t give a crap what his hosts look like. We’re not lovers.”
Nickolas raised his chin. “Right. Fifty years and he never took advantage of his power over you? Never indulged his needs with his pretty, caged Raven?”
Morrigan shrugged from his arm. “No. He’s got my soul held prisoner. He could devour it at any time. I am not screwing him.”
Her belly rolled. It sounded so wrong to her ears, so perverse. How could she ever entertain the thought of making love to Akram? And how could she ever explain why she so often thought of doing exactly that?
>
Nickolas reached for her, tucking her under his arm again, their strides never broken. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. It’s just something that’s been on my mind lately. I should’ve trusted that you’d stay faithful to me, even after all these years with that…man.”
Morrigan swallowed hard, then licked her lips. “Faithful?” she asked, her gaze flicking from the lava-stone street to Nickolas and back again.
“Well, yeah. Don’t you remember? We promised to get married one day.” There was something about his smile, a tensing in the muscles of his cheek, a cold glare in his eyes. Morrigan fought not to shiver at it.
He swung his gaze ahead of them, watching their flock, watching Akram. The group walked on, unaware, toward the beach and the bonfire Akram had planned for them. “How close are you to finishing up your service to him? One, maybe two souls, right? I was just thinking ahead. You know, wondering if you’ll be wearing white when you walk down the aisle.”
She laughed, her nerves keeping the sound strangely humorless. “Nickolas, I’m sixty-five years old.”
His dark gaze swung to her. “Yes?”
“I’m…I mean, you can’t expect that I…I’m not a virgin.”
He dropped his arm from her shoulders, slipped his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “So you are his lover.”
“No. He’s not the only man I’ve encountered over the years.”
“Your demon master gave you time off to go screw?” Nickolas’s tone was sharp as a razor, but its cuts exposed his own pain.
She stopped, knotted her arms under her chest. There was no reason she should have to explain or defend her actions during her enslavement, but she cared about Nickolas. If she could endure all she had for the demon, she could endure this small humiliation for Nickolas.
“It was a long time ago,” she said, Nickolas standing stiffly beside her. “Nothing came of it. I just needed to connect with another human being, someone who could feel and show emotion. I was…lonely.”