Vaughn gently turned me around and then his fingers replaced mine on the zipper, continuing what I’d started. His breath was warm on my skin as he lowered his mouth and trailed kisses over my shoulder, pushing one strap down and then the other.
The dress fell in a heap at my feet, leaving me in only my G-string and my heels.
“No bra,” he said.
I shook my head. “Not practical with my dress of choice.”
“Fucking hot, Matisse. Very hot.” His fingers hooked into the strap of my G-string, and a second later I was standing completely naked in front of him, my body on fire from his gentle touch.
I pointed to his boxers. “Off.”
He smiled that cocky grin he likes to wear when we’re together and pulled me to him, placing my hands on the waistband. “You do the honors.”
“Gladly.” Kissing him, I slowly tugged the fabric from his hips one inch at a time as I stroked my thumb over his velvet shaft until he let out a strangled groan.
“Mati,” he breathed. His boxers fell silently to the floor.
“You feel better than ever,” I said wrapping my hand around his base.
He pressed into my palm and bent his head to scrape his teeth along my pulse, exactly the way I loved.
“Oh, God,” I said, throwing my head back.
I felt the rumble of laughter deep in his chest but didn’t comment. My desire always amused him. But as I stroked my hand up and then down and up again, all the humor vanished, replaced by shortened breath.
He seemed frozen in place as I touched him. Then abruptly his hand wrapped around my wrist and he gently pulled me from him. “It’s my turn,” he said huskily.
I grinned, all too happy to give myself over to him.
He pointed to the bed. “Lie down.”
I did as I was told.
“Spread your legs.”
His words shot another spark of molten desire to my center.
“Touch yourself.” His eyes were black with heat and need. It was almost more than I could take.
But once again I did as I was told and ran one finger along my slick heat.
“Oh, Mati. Damn, girl. You’re so fucking sexy.”
I slipped one finger inside myself and moaned.
“Mine.” The word came out in almost a growl as Vaughn hovered over me. His teeth scraped over my right nipple, causing me to jerk and arch beneath him. Then he moved to my left breast and flicked his tongue over the sensitive tip, making me lose all control.
Both of my hands landed on his hips, and I yanked him down, opening fully to him. “I need you now, Vaughn. Need you inside me.”
Then he was there, his hardness pressing into me, filling me, torturing me with his slow movements.
I let out a frustrated growl and pulled him closer. “Deeper,” I commanded. “Now.”
His hips thrust and he anchored himself inside me. We locked eyes for just a moment, and then we both started to move, magic pulsing all around us.
Every nerve was alive with passion and yearning, every stroke building power, and the delicious friction nearly drove me out of my mind.
Light danced over my skin and spread to him, a cocoon of magic surrounding us. But ever since I’d fallen in love with Vaughn, the power boost from our magic didn’t matter to me like it used to. All I cared about was the man above me, the one who made me feel alive and powerful and sexy as hell.
He quickened his pace, and I matched him thrust for thrust, meeting him with my hips. Our breathing quickened and everything except the wave of passion consuming us ceased to exist.
“Vaughn.” I nearly whimpered as the wave built higher and higher until finally my muscles clenched around him and our shared magic collided, mixing together. As I let out one last cry of pleasure, the power soared into me, fortifying that place deep inside that kept me strong and whole. The place reserved for only him.
He held on, riding out my wave with me, and just as I was coming down, he thrust one last time and let out a groan of his own. A small stream of magic flowed from me to him, just as it always did. If I was going to sleep with an incubus, I had to expect that I’d share some of my power.
Vaughn rolled over, taking me with him so I was lying on his chest. He kissed the top of my head and said, “I missed you.”
I kissed his damp chest. “I missed you too.”
After a few moments, Vaughn ran his fingers down my bare arm. “So. About this sorority.”
I let out a small groan. “Yes?”
He chuckled. “I can’t wait to see you at their Thursday teas.”
Lifting up on my elbow, I glared down at him. “Thursday tea?”
Nodding, he winked. “It’s a tradition. Dresses, hats, and gloves. You’re going to look—”
“Ridiculous!”
“No.” He pulled me back down and rolled until he was staring down at me. “Adorable. And the perfect cover for security detail.”
I sighed. “That’s really going to be my life from now on, isn’t it?”
He nodded. “But it’ll be worth it to keep the next angel safe.”
“You might have a point.”
“You know I do. And I also know you. Even if Chessa hadn’t ordered this, you’d have been the first in line to do something about it. Admit it.”
“Yeah, okay, sure. When it comes to demons, I have a bit of a grudge. But that doesn’t mean I would’ve joined a magical sorority. You know I like to work alone.”
He ran one finger down the bridge of my nose. “Look on the bright side. Think of all the friends you’ll make.”
“Or better yet, I can just think of all the demons I can send back to hell or turn to ash.”
He laughed. “Whatever works for you, babe. I’ll be here when you need me. In more ways than one.”
Vaughn bent to kiss me, and once again, I was lost in his touch.
Demons and sororities could wait. Janie was safe for now and I had an incubus to tame.
He pulled back and rolled over, reaching for something in his nightstand. “I have something for you.”
I pulled the sheet up to cover my breasts and turned sideways. “What?”
“Just a little Christmas present.” He held out a burgundy velvet box.
“But Christmas isn’t for another week,” I protested. “You want this to be a surprise, don’t you?”
He chuckled and sat up, facing me. His lips curved into that sexy little half smile. “Too late now.”
Oh damn. I was doomed. Head over heels for this incubus. “Come here,” I said, crooking a finger to indicate he should come closer.
He leaned down, brushing his lips over my cheek. “Yes?”
“I don’t deserve you.”
He winked. “Yeah, I already knew that.”
I let out a huff of laughter. “Well, maybe I can try to bribe you. Check the third drawer.” It was the one he’d given to me for sleepovers.
His eyes twinkled with amusement as he reached down and pulled out the box I’d so carefully wrapped. It was long and thin.
“A tie?” he asked.
I snorted. “Right.” Holding the velvet box up, I nodded to it. “Open them both on three?”
“You got it.”
I sat up cross-legged and counted. On three we both ripped into our packages, laughing. Our chuckles abruptly stopped, and I sucked in a breath, caught completely off guard. In my velvet box lay a silver necklace adorned with a miniature dagger that was an exact replica of Vaughn’s demon-hunter dagger. I ran a gentle finger over it, delighted by the spark of magic radiating from the miniature blade. It was Vaughn’s signature and so personal.
“It’s a pendant that calls me if you need me,” he said softly. “I’m connected with the magic it holds. You just wrap a hand around it and think of me and I’ll hear you.”
Happy tears filled my eyes. This wasn’t something one handed over easily. This was intimate and invasive for him. And completely unselfish. “I love it,” I said.
H
e ran a thumb over my cheekbone. “And I love you.”
My body heated with pleasure and I couldn’t help the stupid grin that claimed my face. “I love you, too. Now open your present.”
Grinning back at me, he lifted the lid on the box and let out a small gasp. “Where did you get this?” Inside was a handmade dagger, infused with my magic to help keep his own magic stable when we couldn’t physically be together.
“I had it custom-made. Then I spelled it.”
He held it up, admiring the intricate carving on the hilt. “It’s amazing. Thank you.”
I gently took the dagger from him, placed it on the nightstand, and then pushed him back onto the bed. “Merry Christmas, Vaughn.”
“Merry Christmas, my sexy witch.” He tugged me back down into the bed and went to work on making the night merry indeed.
Goddess, I was a lucky witch. And even though it appeared my days were going to take a turn for the annoying, I didn’t care. I had Vaughn by my side and that’s all I really needed. All I’d ever needed.
I didn’t know what new challenges would come, but for tonight, all that existed was me and Vaughn and the magic strumming between us.
The End
About Deanna Chase
Deanna is a native Californian. After spending five years traveling in an RV, she and her husband moved into an adorable cottage in a small town outside of New Orleans. After about six months, Deanna was convinced their 1907 home was haunted. Late at night as she penned Haunted on Bourbon Street, she often heard footsteps throughout the old house. Luckily, the spirit appears to be harmless, as he/she has never done more than make a little noise and possibly smoke a few cigars. However, if the ghost ever shows up in a dream, you’ll be the first to hear of it. Smudge stick anyone?
www.deannachase.com
Dead to Begin With by Jennifer Blackstream
About Dead to Begin With
Blood Prince Series
“One vampire. A second chance. Three spirits."
Chapter 1
“Draft a standard reminder to the dwarves in Angosta. The production levels specified in our contract are not being met. Tell them that if they continue to produce such meager amounts of gold, the contract will be forfeit, and they will no longer have my protection from the goblins.”
Kirill paused in the center of the mine, ignoring the noise of pickaxes and huffing dwarves as he mentally tallied the amount of gold he’d received from Angosta in the past three months. Black dust billowed in clouds around him, coating his white-blond hair until it appeared grey as he held the numbers in his head, comparing them with the most recent delivery. “Tell them I expect an increase of at least eleven percent for next month or they can consider the contract void. Have a cancellation document ready to be sent out the day after the gold delivery and tell the messenger to wait for my word.”
The small kurdush at his side scribbled furiously, claws carefully curled in so as not to shred the parchment. A shovel-full of dirt rained down on its bald head, tiny stones pinging off its small black horns, and it let out a high-pitched squeak and scrambled to brush the debris from its notes. Kirill slid his attention to the source of the mess, keen eyesight easily picking out the dwarf viciously digging his shovel into the side of the mine, burrowing for a particularly large chunk of diamond.
“Sasha, do be careful where you’re flinging that. Anisim’s notes must still be legible upon our return to the castle.”
The dwarf holding the offending shovel paused, the newly freed diamond gripped in his grubby, thick-fingered hand. His brown eyes widened as he realized Kirill was addressing him by name, and he scuttled back a few steps. He nudged at his dirty red cap with the back of the hand clutching the diamond and offered an awkward bow. “Y-y-yes, of course, Your Highness.”
“Kirill, my husband, if a bit of dirt is so disconcerting to you, then might I suggest you take Anisim back to the castle and conduct your business there instead of standing in the middle of the mine, impeding Sasha’s work?”
Irina’s sweet voice slid over Kirill like a silken sheet, soothing him even as she once again contradicted him in front of his subordinates. He fixed a tolerant smile on his face as he faced his wife, careful as always not to flash his fangs at her.
Irina stood in the middle of the cave, a vision in her deep crimson cloak lined with pale grey fox fur. The black velvet of her gown where it showed between the part of the cloak was caked in dirt, as was the bottom of the cloak. He idly wondered how long Irina had been strolling through the mines talking with the dwarves this time. She did have the oddest fondness for the small-statured workers.
“It is nearly the end of the month, my wife. You know as well as I do that the accounting must be done, not merely for this month, but for the entire year. Production levels have dropped around this time in the past, and it’s important to make certain that this year does not see the same failing. I am trying to arrange an alliance with a dragonlord, and the dragons, as you well know, care for nothing but gold and precious jewels. If I am to manage this alliance, I must be here to make certain production remains where it should be.” He slanted a glance at Sasha, who squeaked and immediately resumed digging another diamond from the rock. “For some reason, they work faster in my presence.”
Irina crossed her arms underneath her heavy cloak. Her raven-black hair slid across her shoulders as she fixed disapproving brown eyes on him. “It’s the eve of the winter solstice, my love, tomorrow is Koliada.” She jutted her chin out. “Production levels be damned.”
“Production levels have been damned, that’s the problem.” Kirill scanned the carts holding the diamonds the dwarves had gathered tonight so far, doing a few quick calculations in his head. Still behind. He returned his gaze to his wife. “Frivolity has no place in the political world.”
“Politics have no place in the frivolous world,” Irina corrected him, dropping her arms to her sides and tilting her head at him. The hard edge faded from her eyes, and when she spoke again, her voice was softer, more like the tone she usually used with him. “And there is no day that should be more frivolous than Koliada. Which is precisely why you’re going to take tomorrow off. I want us to have dinner with our friends. After all we’ve been through, I think it’s time we all sat down and had a meal together. I want to get to know Loupe, Ivy, Marcela, and Aiyana without interjecting comments like ‘I need more arrows’ or ‘I’ll take the one on the right.’”
“You never should have been involved in that battle in the first place.”
The words flew from his mouth before Kirill could stop them. Irina’s body stilled, that instant tension that let him know he’d said something he was going to regret. He shoved away the sense of foreboding and straightened his spine. “The others felt the same way. None of us were willing to risk our wives. If we had wanted your help in that battle, we would have asked you.”
“That sounds very much like a conversation we will be having later—when it’s not the eve of the winter solstice,” Irina said softly. “But for now, I’ll leave you with this. There are two ways we can be parted—my death or your…destruction. You can prevent the first, since it seems to please you.” Her eyes flashed, the black orbs briefly swallowing the whites until her gaze consisted of two drowning black holes. “I will prevent the second.”
As quickly as the mood had struck Irina, it vanished. Her rusalka heritage faded from her vision, her eyes returning to their normal chocolate brown as she smiled at the dwarves around her. “And since you and I will be spending tomorrow entertaining our friends, there’s no reason our people shouldn’t enjoy the same holiday. Let Koliada be a day off for everyone.”
All activity in the mine ground to a halt. The dwarves froze, thick iron pickaxes buried in the black rock, heavy shovels spilling dirt as they sagged to the ground. Even the kurdush went still as a statue, beady black eyes popping out of his head, forked tail knotted behind him. Inch by painful inch, every gaze in the mine slid to the vampire prince, no o
ne daring to breathe as his wife’s announcement hung in the air.
Switching mental gears from roiling thoughts of his wife endangering herself to admonishing her for facing off with him in public took a fair amount of concentration. Kirill took a moment to gather his patience, collect his thoughts. He had to remind himself that being short-tempered with his wife never ended well and was a complete waste of resources. Better to remain calm and practical—the only cure for a woman’s brashness.
“Irina, do you have any idea how beneficial an alliance with the dragons would be?”
“You have plenty of alliances as it is.” Irina’s voice remained even, a perfect match for her husband’s. “And the dragons will still be there in the new year. Tomorrow is Koliada. People should be celebrating with their families, not slaving away in your mines so that you can bribe another race to be your political comrades.”
Kirill stiffened, his temper sparking to life despite his best intentions. He stroked the dagger in his belt as he struggled to stay calm, the sleek perfection of the weapon a comfort to his fraying nerves. “I will not sacrifice our future for the sake of a meaningless holiday. Feast and be merry if you like, I will be here. Working.” He met the eyes of each dwarf until one by one they looked away. “As will all of them.”
Irina pursed her lips, eyes narrowing briefly. She took a deep breath and the tension melted away, her shoulders easing and the lines in her face smoothing into its usual soft perfection. She swayed toward him, her footsteps light over the uneven ground of the mine, and Kirill couldn’t help but appreciate the rhythmic back and forth motion of her hips. His blood heated as he anticipated the press of her body against his. It wasn’t until he felt himself leaning forward that he realized what he was doing and cursed himself for his weakness. His wife had rusalka blood in her veins, he of all people should know to beware of her seductive approach to negotiation.
Alphas for the Holidays Page 66