He expertly moved it in and out of her, trying different angles, stimulating her pussy, pushing her to the edge.
“I love fucking you like this.” Brayden spun around and lay alongside her, continuing his penetration. Then he gripped his cock and guided it into her mouth. “Suck me off while I fuck you with the dildo.”
She closed her lips around him, tasting his pre-cum. Groaning, she felt full at both ends as her mind faded and her body relinquished control to the large masculine man who seemed to be dominating her life.
“I need to be inside you.” He groaned after a while, removing his cock and flipping around. Then he was inside her, the mood shifting from erotic to intimate. Tucking a hand under her head, breathing together as their rhythms aligned, he kissed her.
A moment later he threw his head back and cried out her name. She grasped his strong, muscular arms and let her body join in the ecstasy.
Collapsing to the side while pulling her on top of him, Brayden whispered, “Sleep, mi amore.”
Willow nodded gently, aware he was still inside her, as she replayed those words over and over.
He’d just called her his love.
Not that she could speak Italian.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Two nights later, Craig leaned his elbow on the bar and threw his beer back. The bottle clunked as he placed it back down, deciding if he should have another one.
In front of him, three women swayed their hips and tossed their hair to the deep bass music. He watched them with modest interest. In contrast, they were very aware of him. It was the usual reaction vampires of his rank got thanks to the energy they put out; sexual with a high degree of danger. Females loved it. And human females? Forget it. It was like moths to a flame.
He smirked and waved his hand at the bartender.
“You want another?” Craig asked the vampire next to him.
“One more,” Lance said, emptying his beer.
Both were dressed in black jeans and boots. He had a vintage AC/DC T-shirt on which stretched across his chest, while Lancelot—who hated his nickname—wore a plain black shirt rolled up to his elbows. They weren’t exactly gunning for the fashion pages this weekend, but neither of them gave a shit.
They clinked the Steinlager bottles at the neck and chugged down another long, refreshing mouthful.
Craig noticed the redhead glance his way for the second time, and he stifled a moan. She was hot in that corporate girl way, though it could go either way in the bedroom. Some turned into tigers, others were so fucking boring he found television more interesting.
And he fucking hated television.
“You going there?”
“Not sure,” he answered honestly. She was sexy enough in her button-down shirt, extra button undone, and her tight black skirt riding up as she danced. Her long red locks waved around her back as her more-than-a-handful boobs bobbed.
The song finished. Panting, the girls headed to the bar.
Lance took a step away to make room for them, giving them a no problem when they thanked him. A few fluttering eyelashes, and they began to order their drinks. Lance glanced at him and grinned.
As the blonde with the short, bouncy hair turned, Lance stepped into her space and whispered something. She arched her neck to make eye contact with the guy, and her eyes glazed. Nothing made a woman all hot in the pants more than a tall, muscular man stepping into her personal space and towering over her.
That easy. Craig smirked as Lance looked over and winked at him.
The redhead swayed to the music and took a sip of her drink. She didn’t look at him.
Oh, for fuck’s sake. He drank his beer.
“Are you going to talk to me?!” she suddenly demanded.
Now we’re talking—the girl had fire.
He grinned into his beer, then dropped his voice and said, “Well, I could, but it would only end up with me on top of you, so you decide.”
The little gasp in her throat and the long swallow that followed were simply perfect.
“You think so?”
He slowly stood up straight, punched one hand into his jean pocket, and raised his beer to his lips. “Baby girl, I know so.”
She shook her head and he could almost see the hairs on her body begin to vibrate in irritation. Defiantly, she took another sip of her drink. Rum. He could scent the black liquor blending with her musky perfume. It was a tantalizing, rich mix.
“Forget it.”
“Nuh-uh. Come on, why don’t you females ever admit what you want and then take it?”
He was in no mood for the I’m-not-that-kind-of-girl speech. If she were wise, she would walk away. As her mouth dropped open then abruptly shut, Craig couldn’t take his eyes off her red wet lips.
What the hell?
She pulled all her hair over one shoulder with a huff, so it now flowed down over one breast, exposing her neck.
Bad, bad move, sweetheart.
His cock suddenly wanted in.
“Have you never heard of innocent flirting? Jeez. Men!”
He stepped into her space. “Don’t bullshit a bullshitter. You want me.”
She did. Her pulse was rapid, blood had rushed to her face, and he could scent the smell of her desire. Underneath, there was also a tiny hint of fear, which only added to his growing and unexpected arousal.
The female was smart to be afraid of him. He was a dangerous male. Size, height, and tribal tats aside, he was a predator, the worst and best kind, depending on who you were. He had a darkness in him that he kept contained.
Most of the time.
She glanced around at her friends, who were busy giggling and touching Lance every chance they got.
Shit, the guy might end up with them both tonight. Usually Craig played the game, but with everything going on back at the pad, he was feeling testy.
And cue the soft cock. Just thinking of what he’d discovered over the past few days since the prince had tasked him with spying on Regan took away the buzz.
He needed to speak to Brayden as soon as possible, but interrupting the guy when he was with his female was about as wise as shoving your head inside a fucking blender. So he’d wait.
For now.
He felt his patience snap.
“Come with me.” He placed his hand in the small of the female’s back and, ignoring her gasp, led her through the dance floor.
“Where are we going?” she asked, walking double time to keep up with his strides.
He didn’t answer. There was no need. She knew. He knew.
In the back of the club, he pressed his bulky shoulder into the door of the disabled toilet.
“Are you kidding me right now?” she cried as he pulled the door shut. “I told you I was only innocently flirting, for God’s sake. What is wrong with you?”
He leaned in, a hand on her hip, and tugged her into his hard cock.
“Last chance, gorgeous. You can either walk away or turn around while I fuck you.”
Her breasts moved as she panted, furious; however, she stayed put. Her eyes darted around the white tiled room.
“You don’t even know my name.”
“Tell me,” he said, impressed by her courage. He was an intimidating creature, and here she was, demanding respect.
“Brianna.”
The corner of his mouth turned up as she wobbled on her feet and gasped as her palm landed on his rock-hard abs.
“Well, Brianna, are you going to turn around?”
She shook her head, and he raised an eyebrow.
“I want to know your name.” Her demanding eyes bore into him. “And I want to face this way.”
He let out a laugh. “Oh, human, so many demands. Do you really think you’re in control here?”
She pushed against his chest, which did absolutely nothing.
“Yes, I do. I can say no at any point and you will respect that. Tell me your name.”
He didn’t know if she was completely mad or ridiculously brave, but g
oddamn it, his cock hardened further. He held her hips harder to stop himself from swirling her around and ripping up her skirt. She was right; he wouldn’t take from her without her permission.
“You haven’t said no.”
“You haven’t asked.”
Shit. She had a point.
Craig stared down at the brightest green eyes he’d ever seen challenging the very core of him. One minute, they were breathing hard, both needy and fighting their desire. The next, he found his lips on hers. Harsh, angry, and totally owning hers. She moaned. He eased up, and she opened up to him, allowing him to slip his tongue inside. She tasted like rum and a whole bunch of goodness. Everything he wasn’t.
Without realizing, he had pulled her legs up over his hips, and she was gripping his shoulders. He ran his hand down her back and over her tight, soft ass, the heat of her sinking into his skin.
Her bright red locks brushed his cheek as she moaned. He opened his eyes and saw three tiny freckles to the side of her eye. What the fuck?
He abruptly let her go, sliding her down his body. Panting, they stared at each other. Brianna’s eyes were dilated as fuck, glossy with desire and waiting for him to make the next move.
He looked around the bathroom and back at those freckles. Fucking freckles. What did they matter?
“Fuck.” This was fucking wrong. He looked down into eyes that pleaded with him for more at the same time they challenged him. “Let’s go.”
He began to pull her out of the room, but she tugged on his hand. There was no way she’d be able to move him an inch, but the very fact she had tried brought him to a halt.
“Why did you stop?” The hurt on her face had him narrowing his eyes. “What did I do wrong?”
“Not a thing.” He brushed her hair over her ears. “Keep away from assholes like me, you hear.”
She stared at him confused, eyes full of moisture. He leaned down and kissed her gently, wondering when he had ever kissed a female in such a way.
“Let’s go. I’m taking you back to your friends.” Her muted nod and sad eyes nudged a spot inside him he didn’t know existed. As they broke through the dance floor, he saw Lance with the two other women and...
Holy fuck, what was Brayden doing here?
“Bri!”
And Brayden’s human.
“Hey. How do...?” Willow looked between the two of them, then back at the prince. “What’s going on here?”
One glance at Brayden’s face, and he knew this wasn’t good.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
What the fuck was Craig doing with Brianna?
Watching his mate—who didn’t know was his mate—take in the state of Brianna raised his hackles. The girl was shaken and emotional.
Instantly, Brayden was pissed off.
Tell me you did not just fuck this female.
Craig defiantly looked his way and glared at him. Who is she?
Willow’s best friend. Now answer the fucking question.
“Shit.”
“Shit, what?” Willow continued with her questioning. “How do you know Craig?”
Brayden had spent every spare minute he had with Willow over the past two days. They’d been walking around the pier when he’d asked after Brianna. It had been his idea to pop in for a drink to check on her. The last thing either of them had expected to see, for entirely different reasons, was Craig.
Brianna turned to look at the guy, then back at Willow. “We met tonight. Craig was just escorting me to the ladies.”
You didn’t even tell her your fucking name?
It’s not what it looks like. Okay, it is, but then...look, I didn’t fuck her.
Craig awkwardly ran his hand through his hair, which was awkward in and of itself, given he was usually a cocky bastard. Brayden looked over at Lance, who was also frowning at the odd behavior.
“Oh, that’s nice of you,” Willow said naively.
“Yeah, I’m a knight in shining fucking armor,” Craig spat out before gazing quickly at Brianna in concern. She turned away, but glanced back when Craig wasn’t looking.
Brayden was getting whiplash. Something was going on here.
Dude, she lost her husband a year ago. Stay away from her.
Noted.
“Let’s get some drinks,” Willow said, looping her arm through Bri’s and dragging her up to the bar.
We need to talk, Brayden. Now.
He looked over at Lance.
“Hey, Lancelot, look after the ladies for us, will you. We’re just stepping outside for a minute.”
A slap on the shoulder, and they walked outside into the fresh air. Brayden took a long, deep breath as they walked until they found a spot away from people. They could talk with telepathy, but two guys standing around not talking with a face full of emotion always looked weird.
“What’s up? No, wait, first tell me what the fuck is going on with Brianna.”
“Nothing, and there won’t be.”
Brayden waited.
“Yes, I took her out back to fuck her. In my defense, she’d been eye-fucking me for two hours. I didn’t know she was Willow’s friend. I kissed her, that’s it.”
“What stopped you?”
Craig had strong morals, but females didn’t say no to him. He had the height, looks, sculptured body, and bad boy charm females turned to mush over. He’d been watching him in action for centuries.
“She turned me down.”
Liar.
“Anyway, we have more pressing issues to discuss. My investigation.”
Now he had his attention.
“You’ve found something?”
Craig nodded. “I believe so. At least, I think so. Is the king on any medication?”
Brayden recoiled at the question. Vampires didn’t take medication. “No. What kind of medicine?”
The guy sighed and crossed his enormous arms. “Then we have a big fucking problem.”
Craig told him how he’d been ghosting—a skill few vampires possessed which allowed them to be present and not seen by others—Regan one day while he was in the kitchens and had followed him along the hallway to the king’s chambers, a route Regan took every day on his way to their meeting.
When Craig had been about to leave due to the confidentiality of the discussions which took place in the space, he had noticed Regan slow his pace. The old vampire had then sprinkled a powder into the king’s evening cup of tea, stirred, and put the pouch into his pocket before continuing into the room.
“Shit, man. I honestly thought it was medicine the human doctor had recommended.”
Over the past few days, the king’s condition had worsened, and they were all becoming increasingly worried.
Brayden slapped him on the shoulder. “I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but I’d say you’ve just saved the king’s life.”
Craig shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense. Nothing like that should affect him, or any of us. We’re vampires, for fuck’s sake.”
He nodded, feeling as dumbfounded as his second in charge.
“Hell, I don’t know, maybe Regan is trying some concoction to help, and we’re wrong about him.”
Craig shrugged. “Perhaps. Perhaps not.”
“Shit, man, that old vampire has been loyal to the Moretti royal family for over one thousand years.”
Craig nodded slowly. “Exactly, so why would he?”
Brayden looked up. “Have Selena and Lily returned to Maine? They went to Italy on holid—fuck me.”
“Fuck.”
Of course none of them had noticed. Like all of them, he’d assumed—actually, he hadn’t thought about it for one damn minute, why would he?—that the two females had returned from their holiday and settled back into the castle. He vaguely recalled the queen asking about them months ago and Regan saying little. The thing was, Regan’s mate and daughter visited Italy from time to time. It had been no big deal.
Unless they hadn’t returned.
Brayden tensed and looked
at Craig.
“It can wait a few hours. Kurt has eyes on him.”
“Let’s go inside. I don’t like being away from my mate for too long,” Brayden said. “Disappearing without explanation is not an option.”
Craig grinned as they began walking.
“Fuck off. I refuse to wipe her memory every damn day.”
“Yeah, it minces their brains. Speaking of, those colored contacts are bullshit, Bray. You think the king hasn’t noticed? You need to tell him.”
“Nope.” No, he didn’t. Right now, he needed to deal with the new knowledge the king was being poisoned.
“And keep your mitts off Brianna,” Brayden added.
He heard the growl. “Yeah.”
Just when Brayden thought one problem had been resolved, they walked into the bar and saw the way Craig and Brianna looked at each other. He let out his own groan. Christ.
Then Willow walked up, and all his problems vanished. He lifted his arm and she parked herself under it, wrapping hers around his waist.
“Hey, gorgeous.” Their lips met, and hot lava flowed through his body. The little minx had refused to let him fuck her when he’d arrived at her house. She had said he had to wait until they got home.
“I got you another beer.” She handed him the bottle and he took a long swig. He ran a hand over her bottom and nuzzled into her neck.
“I need you.” Between his need to be inside his mate and the strong sense to protect the king, the predator in him was right at the surface.
My lord!
Fuck. His fangs were making an appearance.
Shit. Thanks, Lancelot.
Brayden, be wary.
I’m fine, Craig. Just...on edge.
A low growl whispered through his mind.
“We’ve been here less than an hour.” Willow giggled. “Your gorgeous cock was inside me less than a day ago.”
“Not helping, Willow.” He groaned, adjusting his jeans.
Five long dances, three beers, and a whole lot of blah and blah later, finally the group was heading home. The desire to get his mate home safe and to feel her warmth around his dick was strong. Then he could deal with the rest.
“Where’s your car?” Craig growled at Brianna.
Willow looked up at him in question, like he had all the answers. He gave her a small reassuring smile, which completely missed its mark. She was right to be worried. As his mate, she was immune to Craig’s charm, so all she sensed was power and danger.
The Vampire Prince Page 14