by Patti O'Shea
He interrupted her: “You want an orgasm? Fine, I’ll give you one.”
His arm left her waist, but surprise kept Mika from moving. Then his hand settled between her legs and her eyes went wide. What was he up to? He didn’t keep her in suspense. His fingers lightly stroked her through her damp panties. She moaned.
After a moment, Conor tugged the fabric out of his way. Arousal had left her open, giving easy access to the center of her pleasure. McCabe never took his gaze off her face. She knew he was reading her, finding out what she liked the most, but instead of being irritated with his arrogance, Mika felt joy. She smiled at him and opened her legs wider.
She was undulating against his hand when he stopped. And when she threatened his life, the man actually had the nerve to grin.
“Why don’t you see what you think of this before you kill me?” he asked, slipping two fingers inside her.
Mika’s head fell back and her hips came off the floor. Oh, yeah, she liked this. A lot. Especially once his fingers started moving in and out of her.
“Damn, honey, you’re so tight. You’re squeezing me.” He sounded surprised. He pressed his fingers deeper, and she gasped from the sensation.
When she regained her voice, Mika said breathlessly, “If you weren’t so stubborn, we could do a lot more than this. Imagine how good I’d feel wrapped around you, Conor.”
McCabe’s groan told her he was thinking of it.
Something she could only label as resoluteness settled across his features, then his thumb came up to circle the area he’d been teasing earlier. His fingers continued to thrust. The combination was delicious, and with little pants and moans Mika let him know how much she enjoyed it.
As her climax approached, Mika fought to keep her eyes open and her gaze locked with Conor’s. She wanted to share this with him. And maybe to torture him—just a bit—with what he was missing out on. Torture. That gave her an idea. Mika reached up and pinched her own nipples, rolling them between her fingers. Conor’s hand moved faster inside her and she suspected he wanted her to find release before she shattered him. She could see the lust in his eyes.
But the odds were in his favor: she was close and he was determined. Then he started talking dirty to her, telling her how good she felt, how much he liked the scent of her arousal and what he wanted to do to her besides this. That was all it took to push her over the edge.
He didn’t stop, not even after she climaxed a second time. Mika grabbed his wrist. “Enough,” she begged. There was only so much pleasure a demon could handle.
“You said you came three times in the shower. Don’t you want to come three times for me?”
Chapter Eight
Half an hour later, Mika could still feel fine tremors coursing through the muscles of her inner thighs. Though she wasn’t about to share it with McCabe, she’d never come so hard before. The man was already too pleased with himself. No way in hell was she going to let him crow any more.
Not that he’d escaped scot-free. After she’d made a few pointed suggestions on how to continue if he wanted to give her a third orgasm, Conor’s eyes had become infernobright. His internal battle must have been fierce, but he’d managed to hold out. Because of that, they were now both paying the price.
McCabe, though, was getting the worse of the deal. Mika, at least, was somewhat replete; but she still could feel his erection pushing rather firmly into the leg she rested over his. She couldn’t prevent a smirk at the pained expression he wore.
“Do you want me to kiss it and make it all better?” she asked.
With a growl, he opened his eyes and glared at her. Desire and frustration warred for dominance on his features. “Knock it off.”
“I just want to make you more comfortable. After all, you helped me out, right?” The innocent look she gave him earned her another snarl. She was beginning to like that sound.
Mika didn’t plan to tease him too much more. Really. He was adequately torturing himself without her needing to do anything. Of course, since it was his own fault, and since he wasn’t taking steps to alleviate his suffering, she suspected he enjoyed his predicament. He could have told her to get dressed like he had yesterday. Or he could have kept his distance from her. But McCabe had done neither of those things. Instead, he’d pulled her into his arms. He’d even cupped her bare breasts several times. Mika found it amusing that he tried to make the touches seem accidental. Did he think she’d tell him no?
“I don’t understand why you keep resisting the inevitable,” she said, shifting her head to get a clearer view of his face.
“It’s not inevitable,” he gritted out.
“You don’t think so? Every time we’re together, this goes further, becomes more intense. At the rate we’ve progressed, how much longer do you think you can hold out? A day? Two?”
“Mika—”
“I’m not teasing you.” Regretfully, she removed her leg from atop his thigh and propped herself up a bit on one elbow. “I’m honestly curious. We want each other, we’re both adults, neither one of us is tied to another. Why are you fighting so hard?”
When his jaw tightened, Mika knew she wasn’t going to get an answer. With a sigh she trailed her palm across his collarbone. This wasn’t a discussion she could force.
Conor caught her hand, pressing it flat against his chest. “Let me turn it around. Why are you fighting so hard for sex?”
She grinned. “Never had a woman all over you before, huh? Well, I find you irresistible.”
“That’s a load of bullshit,” he growled. But he halfsmiled as he said it.
“You’re even sexier when you smile,” she added. He sobered immediately and Mika regretted having said anything. Freeing herself, she ran her forefinger over his bottom lip. “You’re too serious. Why don’t you just let yourself have some fun?”
He recaptured her hand. His was much larger than hers, his palm and fingers calloused, but Conor was careful with his grip, making certain he didn’t squeeze too hard. The silence lengthened and Mika sighed. He’d told her something the night they’d met, but now she suspected it pervaded his life even more deeply than she’d thought.
“Does everything go back to keeping your Kiverian half in check?” she asked.
His body tensed. She expected him to tell her to go back to bed and leave him alone, but he didn’t. That encouraged her. “Do you believe you can’t laugh and have fun, that you can’t make love without becoming some ogre?”
Again, there was no answer, but his stubborn expression said a lot. Mika pulled her hand loose, rested her palm against his jaw and turned his face to her. “You’re not a monster,” she said gently. “Emotion isn’t going to turn you into one.”
“Strong emotion makes it harder to maintain control.”
Amazement held her speechless. He did believe that he had to remain this stoic, careful man or he would become some fiend. Did sex truly scare him so much? “I was thinking of the night we met, recalling something you said,” she said. She slid her fingers along his jaw. “And what I told you. Remember? ‘The bamboo that bends—’”
There was an intractable note in his voice, when he snapped, “If you want to spout Japanese adages at me, pick a new one.”
“I don’t know any other Japanese proverbs. I’m afraid you’re stuck with this one.” Mika leaned forward, brushing her lips across his. It wasn’t meant as seduction, but something else. She didn’t waste time trying to put a name to it, instead she gathered up her courage. Here was her vishtau mate, and while they didn’t know each other well yet, she was somehow certain she could trust him with things that she’d never shared with anyone else. “My father told me that when I was a teenager. He’d noticed how I tried to deny my humanness and knew it was an unhealthy way to live. I was doing the same thing you’re doing, only in reverse.”
He rolled so that he was face-to-face with her, and this time, he was the one who offered a gentle touch. Running his thumb across her cheek, he said, “You still de
ny your humanness.”
She shrugged off the pity she saw in his eyes. “No, I’ve accepted it, integrated it into who I am. I don’t like it, I’d much rather be full Mahsei, but I know I’m not, and unlike you, I quit pretending otherwise long ago.”
McCabe jerked away and sat up. Slowly, Mika got to her knees. She wasn’t uncomfortable with him even though she was only half-dressed, but she looked around for her tank top anyway. This conversation was serious, and Conor might have trouble focusing if she wasn’t covered. Once she had herself fully clothed again, she moved behind him.
At first, Mika didn’t speak, but leaned in to kiss his shoulder. It wasn’t much in the way of an apology, but she wanted him to know that what she’d said—what she was about to say—wasn’t something she took lightly.
“You’re not human, Conor,” she said gently. “You’re never going to be human.” She felt his muscles become more rigid with each word. “If you don’t find a way to meld with your true nature, if you keep it locked up, one day something will happen.” He shook his head. “It will,” Mika insisted. “And when your darkness breaks free, it’ll be your humanness that’s lost. Only if you integrate both parts of who you are, will you not have to worry about it. One will temper the other and you’ll bend, not break.”
He didn’t respond, and Mika ran her hand across his back. She nestled her body closer to his, pressing into him, but left her arm around his shoulders. “It isn’t easy to blend the two. It took a long time before it was natural for me. But every day it will become easier, and at some point, you won’t have to think about it.”
McCabe turned his head. Since she sat as close to him as she possibly could, the movement put them nose-to-nose. When she saw his eyes, Mika braced herself, but she didn’t leave his side.
“It’s real easy for you, isn’t it? But you only have to deal with being half-Mahsei. It’s not like you’re much of a demon.”
She was able to keep from reacting to his words because she’d expected him to lash out; but still, he’d hurt her. He knew where she was most vulnerable and had gone straight for the heart. Of course, he probably thought she had done the same.
“No, I’m not a powerful demon,” she admitted, “but I was a child—maybe thirteen—when I started bringing my two natures together. If I could do it with my hormones running rampant, you should be able to do it too.”
“The difference is”—Conor used his strength to pull her from his flank across his lap—“that you used your good, human side and tempered the demon. Kiverians are…we’re evil.”
Mika shifted, moving her legs to either side of his, and scooted forward. The conversation had accomplished one thing—he’d lost his arousal. She smoothed the hair off his forehead, gazed into his eyes and made a decision; she was going to push all the way to the root of the matter and risk his anger. “She never should have done this to you.”
“Who?” The word was a warning.
“Your mother.”
The words hung there and Mika felt as if she had a guillotine poised above her neck. McCabe vibrated with fury, but he didn’t move her from his lap.
At first, she didn’t understand the feelings coursing through her, but then she figured it out. The bond between them had strengthened to the point where she’d begun to feel his emotional pain. She deeply regretted causing it, but in the long run, he’d be happier once this ache was excised.
He wasn’t looking at her, and she didn’t force it. “You were a child, completely innocent,” she said. “She never should have taught you to despise any part of who you are.”
Conor’s hands went to her waist, and she expected him to dump her to his side and leave; but while his hold tightened for a moment, he didn’t follow through. “You don’t think she had the right to hate demons?”
“Maybe one Kiverian, but you’re her son. She never, ever should have hated you.” His gaze snapped to hers and she easily read it. Before he could argue, she said, “And don’t tell me she didn’t. Maybe it wasn’t all the time, maybe it was only when she thought you were acting like a Kiverian, but you must have learned as a small child to hide that part of yourself, to suppress it.”
“It wasn’t like that,” he denied thickly.
“Then tell me what it was like,” she said.
Mika started stroking his brow again, trying to soothe him. She thought that would be it, that he’d end their talk instantly, so she was more than surprised when he lay back down and positioned her at his side. His arms went around her and she curled into him, offering the only comfort she thought he’d accept.
For a long time, he did nothing but hold her. Occasionally, his clasp would firm, bringing her closer against him, but he’d ease off almost immediately, as if he were concerned he’d crush her. His grip wasn’t too strong, but she stayed quiet.
She heard the air-conditioning kick in, and more distantly, the muted sounds of Los Angeles, but it was Conor she was focused on. One of his hands slipped under her top and circled the bare skin of her back. He probably would have been happier if she’d left her tank off, she decided, but carefully kept her expression neutral. Mika didn’t want him to think she was laughing about something so crucial to his life.
“She said that looking at me made her remember him,” Conor said quietly. “I used to wonder if that meant I resembled him or if my presence alone was enough to remind her of what he’d done.”
Mika ran a hand down the back of Conor’s upper arm, but remained silent. It shocked her that he was talking about this. He normally held everything tightly inside. She’d expected him to stonewall her. That he wasn’t told her that he needed to discuss this with someone, needed to let it out. It must be the vishtau that had made him choose her to share it with, and the idea brought a lump to her throat. The amount of trust this required was staggering.
And that caused a huge wave of guilt.
She’d lied to Conor since the moment they met. No more, Mika vowed silently. She couldn’t come clean about what she’d already told him, nor could she say anything that would divulge her mission, but with everything else, she was going to be as honest as possible from now on.
“She wouldn’t look at me, wouldn’t touch me unless there was no other choice,” he continued after a lengthy pause. “I always thought that if I could be human enough…I never could.”
Conor’s voice was cold, but she knew he was hardly indifferent. The more emotional something was for him, the harder he clamped down. This had to be the most painful part of his childhood: a mother who wouldn’t touch him.
“It wasn’t only her. A lot of people don’t look me in the eye for long.” McCabe’s smile held no humor. “They must sense what I am, although I hide it.” For the first time since he’d started talking, Conor looked at her. “That’s one of the things I like about you. I don’t scare you or make you nervous. You meet my eye. You touch me.” His grin became more genuine. “Hell, you even laugh at me. It may frustrate me to no end, but at least I feel like I’m real when we’re together.”
For Conor, that was one hell of a speech. Mika couldn’t blow it now, couldn’t make him feel uncomfortable for opening up to her. “I do understand,” she said quietly. “You wondered if you were a shadow or something, right? That people knew you were there, but didn’t quite acknowledge your existence.”
“Yeah, a shadow. Or that I was invisible.”
Mika shifted nearer, sliding her thigh between his legs. “I felt the same way much of the time, both in Orcus and in this world. The only people I spent time with who made me feel normal were members of my family. I don’t know what I would have done without them, and I don’t know how you survived.”
His eyes closed and Conor moved onto his back, putting distance between them again. “I did have someone—Ben. I met him when I was eighteen and he taught me to hunt vampires and werewolves. He even talked the powers that be into letting me work as a freelancer for the city because he knew I didn’t have the temperament to hire on off
icially. As for my mother…I think she tried,” he said at last, sounding tired.
She hesitated. “Do you realize how you sound when you talk about her?”
McCabe didn’t say anything. The air conditioner turned off, making the silence seem more absolute. When it became obvious that he was finished, Mika decided he’d come as far as he could today; but there was one more thing she wanted to say. “If she was unable to accept you, to love you, she should have given you to someone who could. She should have found a demon to bring you to Orcus and your family.”
Conor’s eyes opened and he rolled, pinning her under him. “What the hell do demons know about love?”
So, he believed that old stereotype, that demons were incapable of tender emotions. It wasn’t true, although there were distinct cultural differences between the races.
“We know as much about love as any other species,” she said gently. Maybe she wouldn’t have been so sanguine if Conor hadn’t revealed something of his past, but how could she chew him out after the last fifteen minutes?
“Why would the demon that fathered me—or his family for that matter—want me?” Conor asked. His eyes blazed.
Mika took a deep breath, needing to say this right. “All demon children I’ve ever seen are loved and wanted. Every baby is considered a gift and treated that way. If for some reason the child’s family is incapable of caring for them, there are many others willing to raise and love them.”
Conor didn’t say anything. His arms held most of his weight, but that kept him too far away. Putting her hands on his shoulders, Mika tugged him close. “But they would want you because you’re you.”
“Right. And then I could have grown up feeling invisible in two worlds the way you did.” The skepticism in his voice annoyed Mika, but she decided not to argue.