by Jane Kindred
If a human was a raw, untouched photo, a vampire was the same photo after being touched up, adjusted, and perfected. And Ian’s photo wasn’t one that needed to be touched up to begin with.
The silence between us lingered. He didn’t notice my surreptitious glances; he was too busy avoiding both my eyes and the couch beside him. The couch on which we’d spent half a night making out after we’d finally given in to the crackling tension between us. I shivered at the memory. We must have been here every night for a week, sitting on that couch and talking before I finally worked up the nerve to kiss him. Then it was nonstop scorching hot sex whenever we could get our hands on each other until the night—
I cleared my throat. “We’ll crash here for now. As soon as the sun’s down, we’ll leave.”
Ian nodded. “Where exactly are we going?”
“There’s a town called Kayenta in Arizona,” I said. “It’s on a reservation, and it’s about the only place where vampires are protected over wolves.”
“A reservation?” He shifted his weight. “Like, a Native American reservation?”
“Yes. We cut a deal with the Navajo people. Kayenta’s the safest place I can think of. For now, we should probably…” Without thinking about it, I gestured toward the bedroom. Then I caught myself. “We should get some sleep.”
“Yeah.” His eyes met mine. “We should.”
I swallowed hard. I knew that look. When he was human, Ian wore his hunger and desire on his sleeve, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what he wanted now.
Or why he wanted it now, I thought bitterly.
“So, should I take the couch, then?” He nodded toward the guilty piece of furniture as if I’d forgotten it was there.
“Unless you’d prefer the bed.” Darius, don’t…
“It’s your call,” he said. “Where do you want me?” As soon as the words were out, he dropped his gaze, a flush of pink blooming over his cheekbones. “I mean, where would you prefer I sleep?”
I hesitated. I knew where I wanted him. Now, where did I want him to sleep? Did I really give a fuck about that?
Ian raised his eyes, the unanswered question still there in the faint creases above his eyebrows. After a moment, the creases faded. He searched my eyes. I searched his.
All at once, he reached for me. I grabbed his wrist and pulled him to me, and as soon as our lips met, there was no turning back. I had to have him. Right here. Right now.
I slid my hand up into his hair, then tightened my grip and pulled his head back, dipping my head to kiss his neck just in time for his helpless whimper to hum against my lips. So much for the urban legend about us being the walking dead, because my pulse soared with every taste of his hot skin. Whoever said vampires were cold and lifeless had obviously never fucked one.
Breathing him in, I was more than a little thankful that the conversion hadn’t taken away that deliciously musky scent. I could smell and taste him for hours. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this hard, this deliriously aroused, and we hadn’t even taken our clothes off yet.
Ian nudged me with his chin, and when I raised my head, our lips met in another frantic kiss. I grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and tugged it free of his pants. Our mouths separated just long enough for me to push his shirt up and off, and as we came back together, the heat of his skin beneath my hands and arms took my breath away.
Ian dragged me down onto the couch, keeping an unrelenting death grip on my shirt as if I thought to pull away. Like there was any chance of that. No one was getting up off this couch until there was an orgasm or two. Preferably one deep inside him.
Prince of Tricks
Jane Kindred
When desire rises, angels will fall. One, by one, by one…
Demons of Elysium, Book 1
Over the past century, Belphagor has made a name for himself in Heaven’s Demon District as a cardsharp, thief, and charming rogue.
Though the airspirit is content with his own company, he enjoys applying the sweet sting of discipline to a willing backside. Angel, demon, even the occasional human. He’s not particular. Until a hotheaded young firespirit steals his purse—and his heart. Now he’s not sure who owns whom.
A former rent boy and cutpurse from the streets of Raqia, Vasily has never felt safer than in the arms—and at the feet—of the Prince of Tricks. He’s just not sure if Belphagor returns those feelings. There’s only one way to find out, but using a handsome, angelic duke to stir Belphagor’s jealousy backfires on them both.
When the duke frames Vasily for an attempted assassination as part of a revolutionary conspiracy, Belphagor will do whatever it takes to clear his boy’s name and expose the real traitor. Because for the first time in his life, the Prince of Tricks has something to lose.
Warning: Contains erotic sex: m/m, m/m/m, m/m/m/m…oh hell. Let’s just say “mmmmmm!” and be done with it. Also one m/f scene. Smart discipline meted out with a great deal of love and charm. Erotic sex acts requiring copious amounts of elbow grease.
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
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Prince of Tricks
Copyright © 2014 by Jane Kindred
ISBN: 978-1-61922-089-8
Edited by Linda Ingmanson
Cover by Kanaxa
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: January 2014
www.samhainpublishing.com