“Not yet. But I see a high level of unhealthy codependency happening between us.”
That earns me one of her signature eye rolls. “Can’t wait.”
“Tell me about the Isle of Darkness,” I inquire.
She frowns. “Aragon isn’t dark. I hate that everyone calls it that. Why do they?”
“I suppose it has something to do with all the demon fairies living there. It is part of the Unseelie Court and realm, isn’t it?” I ask, chewing on a grape. “Unseelie are dark-souled.”
Umbria makes a dismissive noise in her throat.
“What?” I ask.
“Yes. It’s part of the Unseelie Court. You shouldn’t call my realm dark because of the fae who reside there. Just because we are dark-souled and absorb sins doesn’t make us evil or bad. It’s simply how we’re created,” she says in a quiet voice. “I would think a non-souled gargoyle would understand that bloodlines don’t define who or what we are to the outside world.”
“And your father? The male generations in your family seem to be nonexistent.”
She shifts, uncomfortable. “Male Caballuco fairies cease to exist shortly after breeding.”
“How very black widow of your kind,” I counter.
I watch her, having known that from her file. Her eyes flutter at me.
“Are you objectifying me?” I change direction quickly.
Umbria looks at me and her brows crease. “What?”
“The way you keep looking at me—it makes me feel like a piece of meat.”
With a growl, she closes her eyes, and I smile to myself at having distracted her. When her lids flutter open, she startles, seeing I’ve moved into her space completely, a breath from her lips.
“Why are you so close?” she sneers.
“I thought we were having a moment,” I whisper.
She scowls but doesn’t flinch. “We were so not having a moment.”
My gaze falls to her skin, and I notice the fae sheen is brighter as goosebumps form on her skin. Lifting my eyes, I look at her again and throw her a cocky smirk. With a hard exhale, I quickly lean in closer, and she jumps back, grabbing my forearms to prevent herself from falling.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“Be quiet . . . for one fucking second,” I growl, and take her lips with mine.
My kiss isn’t soft. I don’t brush her lips or take them with affection. Instead, I own them. Her.
The moment my mouth covers hers, I’ve ruined everything. Including myself. At first, I just wanted to get her pissed off and agitated, but once my lips pressed to hers, all self-control was gone. My tongue slips over her cherry-flavored lips, and my hands slide into her silky hair.
In response, her fingers tighten on my arms, and she moans into my mouth as she kisses me back every bit as hard as I am kissing her. Her fingers claw at my shirt, wanting the barrier gone.
The feel of her lips brushing across mine causes my skin to tingle, and it’s all I can do not to rip away the layers of clothing between us. When she releases a moan, I squeeze my eyes closed, and after a minute, I manage to tear myself away from her lips to try and clear the wanton haze.
Both of us stare at one another, trying to catch our breaths. What the hell just happened?
Umbria moves toward me again, and this time it’s me who jerks back. “What are you doing?”
“Be quiet . . . for one fucking second,” she mimics; her mouth moves toward me.
My heart beats faster as she looms over me, licking her gorgeous lips. Now that I’ve tasted them, I’ll never be able to look at them the same way again. When she drags her teeth across her swollen, red lips, my own body turns restless in response with want. I hold my breath, waiting.
“Umbria,” I warn.
“Just once more,” she coos, her voice intoxicatingly low and sultry.
I smile at her, daring her to stop, but she doesn’t, which is unnerving. Needing control, I grab her upper arms, flip and drop her so she is laying under me, and grind myself against her.
When her eyes flutter in pleasure, I dip my lips closer to hers. “I like your dress.”
Her lips part. “M-my . . . what?”
Ever so slowly, my hand glides down her right side before I grip the material in my palm and drag it up toward her hip, testing her. “You’re not going to stop me?” I ask in a soft voice.
“S-stop you?” She tries to gain control of her thoughts.
With a wicked glare, I release the material and softly trace my fingers over the hollow at the base of her throat. “I’ve been trying to imagine what you have on under the non-transparent parts of that dress all night.”
Every part of Umbria tenses under me, and I pierce her with a hard look because she’s intoxicating, so easy to get lost in and drunk on. My thumb rubs across her lower lip, and she follows the caress with a sweep of her tongue. All of a sudden, I recognize this level of desire.
Awareness crashes into me—it’s the blood bond we share that is heightening our emotions.
Making what I’m doing a dangerous game.
And yet, I can’t help myself.
I hesitate for the slightest moment before my lips descend toward hers. At the same time, her fingers curl into the hard blade of my shoulder as she arches herself upward, and I press against her center. A hair’s breadth from her mouth, I stop. If I continue, it will ruin what I’m trying to build between us. With every ounce of self-control I can muster, I change direction and drop my lips to one of her cheeks, brushing over the skin. Umbria gasps and whimpers in pleasure under me.
I tilt my head so my mouth is at her ear. “That was fun.”
My voice is low and my words are meant to be firm and taunting.
Confused, Umbria narrows her dark eyes at me. “Fun?” she repeats.
“It’s nice to know you won’t shy away from my touch anymore. It makes us more believable.”
I push off her and grin down at her like I’ve just discovered a new game. Trying to hide the irrational and wild feelings running through me. Not wanting to obliterate what we need to be.
“Asshole,” she mutters and scoots away, putting much-needed breathing space between us.
I focus on getting my body back under control. “Back in a minute,” I exhale, sliding out of the covered bed, needing to get my head on straight and cool down my overactive hormones.
Inhaling, I head to the bar, away from Umbria, before she pulls me further into the fire.
Thinking clearly around her is going to be a problem.
One that can’t exist because I am her protector.
Grabbing my drink from the dragon shifter who is bartending, I turn, lean against the bar and slowly take a sip. My eyes scan the room, taking in the supernatural creatures here tonight. It’s apparent that our host has eclectic tastes in friends and associates.
A girl with pointed ears in a yellow ball gown catches my eye. She’s wearing a gold mask, concealing her identity. The corner of my mouth lifts in a half smile when I see a jaguar shifter approach her. Jax is the alpha of one of the largest packs in the United States, known for being a big flirt and more so for his big ego. I shake my head. The girl should run the other way.
A mysterious and stunning woman wearing a red gown walks by me. Her eyes drink me in as she passes by and throws a seductive look my way. I dip my chin and tip my glass at her before shifting my focus to the only woman I’ll be sharing my company with for the foreseeable future.
Umbria steps into the ballroom, scanning the room, no doubt seeking me out. I watch her.
I force myself to hold in a moan as heat and languid tension begins to unfurl in me again at the sight of her. Fuck, she’s beautiful. And her goddamn cherry scent is all over me.
All weaknesses.
When the music stops, my focus shifts to a pixie in a cage high above the stage. The stage falls dark just as her cage lights up and she begins to DJ, giving the band a break. A thumping beat vibrates around the ballroom as guests bec
ome better acquainted with one another. This late in the night, no doubt the drinks have kicked in, and intentions have become lusty and desire-filled.
I remain in my spot, watching Umbria as a dark-haired incubus approaches her. Earlier, he was on stage, playing his blood-red guitar with the band. I finish my drink and frown when he throws an arm around Umbria’s shoulder and pulls her to his side. Leaning in, he whispers in her ear, and even though I am across the room, I can see her shake her head no at whatever he said.
He tries to guide her toward one of the darkened passages behind the stage, trying to get her somewhere secluded. It’s obvious she doesn’t want to go. I smile, knowing that from now on, I’m the one she will follow into the dark. The only being allowed to lead her off her chosen path.
With a low growl, I place the glass on the bar, push off and walk toward them. As I approach, her panicked gaze finds mine. From her file, I know she isn’t a girl who flirts and parties. She has no idea how to handle the incubus rock star or the situation, and I can sense that she is terrified.
When I get closer, I hear him tell her how beautiful she is as she politely declines his request to go somewhere more quiet and secluded. Umbria tries to take a step away, and his fingers dig deep and hard into her shoulder. The pressure will without a doubt leave marks—and I see red.
“Where are you going, sweet creature?” I ask her as I take the last steps toward them.
Umbria stiffens as she meets my gaze. “I’m not going anywhere.”
I dip my chin at her and reach my hand out for her to take. She tugs herself free of the idiot’s hold and slides her shaking hand into mine. When she is free, I spin her so her back is pressed against my front and place my hands on her waist before granting the guitarist a pointed look.
“Fuck off, man. Run now because for every mark you’ve left on her, I am going to make sure you receive a matching one.” My voice is low and clear enough that he understands the threat.
Shaking his head as if coming out of a fog, his eyes slide between the two of us, trying to put together who I am and how I might play into his plans, before lifting his hand in surrender.
“I didn’t realize she was marked.” He sounds confused.
“Now you do,” I counter and brush my lips against the back of Umbria’s head.
His gaze falls to her and she burrows into me. Her anger and fear vibrate along her body.
“Sorry,” he exhales and storms off.
I hold in my growl and spin Umbria, checking her over to make sure she’s all right.
Panting and breathless, she sighs, “I could have handled him.”
With an amused grin, I say, “He’s a rock star incubus. I could barely handle him.”
She lifts her head to look at me, her eyes narrowed. “Did you call me sweet creature?”
“I did.”
“Don’t ever do that again.”
“Deal.”
Taking her hand in mine, I pull her through the thriving party, passing by Grayson Bloodstone. He’s bloody and bruised and dancing with a woman whose red dress is completely ripped to shreds. Neither of them seems to care about their appearances, though. Inhibitions are starting to loosen and fall, and things are teetering on the verge of crazy. Umbria’s eyes remain on me as I guide her through the dancing bodies and entwined couples, heading to the center of the room. Once there, I turn to face her and yank her into my arms.
Her eyes widen as she looks around. “What are you doing?” she hisses.
“After that, I’m making damn sure that everyone here knows you’re mine,” I growl out.
“Archaic.”
“Necessary.”
I pull her loose-limbed body into mine, and with the lightest of touches, I brush my lips over hers, moving them from side to side before the edge of my teeth skate over her jawline as I make my way toward her pulse. Once I feel it beating wildly under my lips, I nip and lick it, making my way down the curve of her neck. With a gasp, Umbria relaxes in my hold and shifts, pressing against me for support. The tip of my nose runs back up her throat, and my mouth finds its way back to hers as my tongue and lips taste her skin, and I memorize every sound she makes.
Restraining myself, I go slowly so as not to scare her or move too fast. Instead, I make it clear to everyone in this room that she is mine. Every piece of her belongs to me. In the real world, this would be a bad fucking idea. But here, at the Monster Ball, it’s a statement. A declaration.
My mouth hovers over hers; the anticipation of tasting her cherry lips again has me in knots. And damn it, she isn’t going to stop me. Not even a little. Gently, I kiss her bottom lip, causing her eyelids to slide half closed. Fuck, she feels good. Even though she shouldn’t, she does.
She looks up at me from under her thick lashes. “I’ll agree to your protection.”
I snort and pull her closer, swaying us to the music. “I didn’t ask for your agreement.”
Umbria tilts her head back, holding my gaze. “I hate feeling out of control. And you…”
“I what?”
She presses her cheek against mine, allowing her lips to find my ear. “Make me feel safe.”
Pride soars through me even though it shouldn’t. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I’m positive protecting her is going to be the best and worst thing that I’ll ever do in my existence.
Chapter Five
ISLE OF DARKNESS
UMBRIA
Against my better judgment, I feel myself giving in to Striker, which is scary but not nearly as scary as the very real reality that someone in my realm wants to end the Caballucos’ royal bloodline. The incubus didn’t scare me. I could handle him. It was the words he whispered in my ear that terrified me to my core. Fae words that Striker wouldn’t understand if he heard them or read my mind.
Words that I knew someone had compelled him to whisper.
Words that moved me into action and made me agree to Striker’s protection.
Words that will haunt me until we put an end to the threat against me.
“I thought you didn’t need or want my protection,” Striker asks. “Not less than twenty minutes ago, I would have bet that you were planning to castrate me in my sleep at some point.”
“Don’t lose hope on winning that bet. I still might. Agreeing to your protection is me securing my existence. You’ve proven yourself, coming to my rescue already twice this evening.”
“Twice?”
“Once with the incubus,” I point out. “And the second . . . when my drink was empty.” My voice drifts as he steps into my personal space, crowding me. Pushing me. I don’t back down. I refuse to be bullied or intimidated by some privileged gargoyle who thinks he rules the universe just because he’s good-looking and has an endless supply of money. I blow out my breath harshly.
“I’m also really good in bed,” he adds.
I shake my head, annoyed that he read my thoughts. “Stop doing that.”
“I can’t. We’re bonded.”
I clench my teeth at the reminder. “Right.”
Striker’s hand gently lifts as he brushes away a loose strand of my hair, tucking it behind my ear. His warm touch overwhelms me and each of my breaths seems to echo in the large room.
He clears his throat. “So, castrating truce?”
“I’ll try to control my urges.”
“It’s good to see you can play nice with others, Majesty.” His breath tickles my lips.
“I can be nice. But is that what you really want?” I lick my lips and force myself to look away from his piercing gaze. “This entire thing will be a hell of a lot easier on us both if we just be us.”
“I don’t want to make your life hell, Umbria. You know that, right? I don’t want you cursing me at every turn. You create your own destiny here. Make your own choices. That said, for the foreseeable future, I’m in charge. So either play by my rules, or don’t. The choice is yours.”
“And if I don’t? Follow your rules?”
“
My rules are designed to keep you alive.”
I swallow. “Fine.”
He smirks down at me. “I knew we’d understand each other . . . eventually.”
“I’m not agreeing with you. I just knew it would be the fastest way to shut you up.”
Striker reaches up and his thumb brushes over my bottom lip. “There are faster ways.”
I curb the desire to punch him in the jaw. It’s mixed with the need to kiss him stupid. Sadly for me, our journey together is just beginning. Somehow I know deep in my soul that now that I know Striker exists, I will never be the same. There will be days I won’t be able to stand him. Days all I’ll want is to be closer to him. And days it will hurt to be close to him.
Strangely, the void in my chest left by the deaths of my mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother seems to disappear whenever he is present, filling it. He is without a doubt going to break me, and there will be no cleaning up the mess he leaves after. It’s all too fast. Too dangerous. Definitely illogical and stupid. Even unethical, considering I am his assignment. But common sense can’t fight its way past all the other emotions churning and burning inside of me.
He is going to kiss me.
He is going to touch me.
He is going to change me.
And I am going to let him . . . in the name of protection.
“What’s with the nose wrinkle?” he asks.
“I was just thinking.”
“About how sexy I am?”
“No. How protecting me . . . it’s going to ruin you and your purpose within your race.”
He bites back a smile. “Protecting you . . . is my purpose.”
At his declaration, my usual calm, rational self is nowhere to be found. “Wow.”
“What?”
“That almost sounded—”
He toys with the beading decorating my waist, his touch preventing me from finishing.
“Umbria?” he prods.
“Sincere.” I swallow. “Real. Nice.”
The Monster Ball: A Paranormal Romance Anthology Page 24