Apparently unaffected, she rose. "Yeah, you're probably right. I should be going." She feigned a yawn. "You've gotta head back to work and I've gotta head to jail. Big night for me. I'm planning to shiv someone for a bar of soap. I think we might have enough time for a quickie, though."
He cast her a withering look.
"Nothing can stop us from sleeping together. We're like magnets pulled to each other."
That was the thing about magnets--they didn't get to choose what they were attracted to. "Valkyrie, you're never going to have sex again. Not before you're executed."
"Way to kill the mood there, Paddy." She sidled closer, gazing up at him. "Now, Chase, I hope you won't let this spat color your judgment about me. I'm usually good times. In fact, if you keep the terms of our deal, maybe I'll tell you the dirty details of how you claimed my virginity in a berserkrage. How you tore off my dress and tossed me on a bed of furs to do things to me that I couldn't even have imagined."
"You'll tell me a story and I'll spare you? You think I don't see what you're doing? I've read Arabian Nights."
"Call me Scheherazade, baby! Actually, she's one tricksy bitch. Who, by the way, still owes me twenty gold pieces and a pound of sesame." The Valkyrie had inched even closer until he could perceive the heat from her body, that addictive electricity. "You know I'm giving you good information. We could continue later, and I'd promise to behave for you. Or be your common whore. Gentleman's choice."
Declan recalled Webb's missive. If I can't torture her, then I have no choice but to see her again. "I thought it was forbidden among your kind to talk to outsiders?"
"You are one of us."
"Can you possibly comprehend how much that insults me?"
"The truth cuts like a knife, boyo."
Vincente arrived, showing no reaction to the fact that the Valkyrie's cuffs were now in front of her--or that she was blowing Declan a kiss good-bye.
"Take her from here."
Without a word, the man escorted her out. But then, it wasn't Vincente's place to react, to do anything more than follow commands. And the man owed him.
Months ago, Declan had caught him making repeated contact with a particular succubus. Since the Order provided no nourishment for her kind, she'd been withering away from sexual hunger--using everything in her power to lure him to free her. So she could rape the man and feed.
Instead of erasing Vincente's memory, Declan had held the lapse over the man's head, ensuring his loyalty. At the time, he'd marveled that Vincente would risk his career over a female--much less a detrus.
Now I was just rutting over a Valkyrie, desperate to see her breasts.
When the door closed behind Vincente and his prisoner, Declan strode into his bathroom to stare at the mirror. Christ, were his eyes lighter?
No, she's got me imagining things. She's a detrus--everything about her is foul, wrong.
Yet still he was hard for her. He waited for the strain to hit him full-force, would relish the misery as an earned punishment.
Waiting ...
Just thinking about taking her would be enough to send that old anxiety skyrocketing. So he envisioned ripping her jeans down to her knees and shoving his cock into her tight little quim.
Waiting ...
Nothing? He was tense because he needed to fuck, but there was no more anxiety than usual.
In fact ... it'd lessened.
He choked back a crazed laugh. For whatever reason, be it entrancement or not, the strain had all but disappeared.
Right time, right place, right ... girl? Except for the fact that she wasn't human! No, she was a murderer and a blood foe who would run screaming the minute she saw his unclothed body.
Not to mention that he was duty-bound to imprison and eventually execute her.
His shaft didn't seem to care about all that. He scowled down at it. If he did stroke off now, then she would win. He refused. She was one of them. An abomination.
They lure mortal men from their purpose. From my purpose. To help him remember it, he tore off his sweater, baring his ruined chest.
Those creatures had peeled away strips of his flesh not at random, but in deliberate circles and lines. The resulting wounds had been too narrow for grafts. Instead, the surgeon had stitched the skin directly together. In time, the scar tissue had grown raised.
Yet even this sickening sight couldn't quell his hard-on. He knew of only one thing that could.
He hastened to his bed, to his case, readying a syringe.
When he'd started injecting this medicine a decade ago, he'd made an effort to be dignified, treating it like an insulin shot. He would ease the needle in, pressing the plunger leisurely.
To somehow differentiate it from what he'd done in Belfast's back alleys.
Now he shot up like a junkie desperate for a fix.
His lids grew heavy with pleasure. His mind was just wasted enough for him to ignore the continued ache in his ballocks, and soon he slept, quickly slipping into dreams. ...
SEVENTEEN
Aidan hastens through battles just to get back to his woman."
His men's words rang out behind him, but Aidan paid them no mind. They would hurry back too if they had what he enjoyed.
A golden goddess born from the heat of lightning.
A few of his men teased him that he'd put Reginleit up on a pedestal. As if she belonged anywhere else?
Back at the camp, he dunked himself in the bathhouse springs, scrubbing the vampire blood and gore from his skin. Then he carelessly knotted a filched blanket around his waist as he stormed toward their longhouse.
He found Reginleit sitting by the fire pit inside, lost in thought and staring into the flames. Contemplating her new life with me?
But as soon as she spotted him, she stood, her face glowing brighter. "Aidan, you're back!"
As he crossed to her, he was struck anew at how beautiful she'd grown, her body a heaven of curves and softness he longed to lose himself inside. 'Twas as if she'd been created for him--a warrioress with a fierce heart, a sharp mind, and a fiery passion to match his own.
But he had to grin at her silken hair. The crazed braids she'd worn as a girl remained, yet now they were oddly provocative, looking as if he'd just tumbled her.
She leaned up to press her mouth to his, parting her lush lips for him.
With just one taste of her, he groaned, "Your lips, female ... sweetness itself."
Like a drug ...
Before he got lost in the mind-numbing pleasure of her kiss, he forced himself to break away. "I've a gift for you, brightling." He swooped her up in his arms, carrying her to their bed.
In a breathy voice, she said, "And 'tis one I've been awaiting all day."
Gods, her mere voice set his blood afire. And when she boldly cupped him ...
He had to force her hand from him, flattered by her disappointed pout. "Nay, 'tis a true gift." He stood to retrieve his offering from a leather pack.
"I like surprises!"
"You like presents. And the mere owning of things." He handed her a bundle swathed in cloth. "I am well aware that I've got an acquisitive Valkyrie for my mate."
Yes, Valkyrie were acquisitive, and he wanted to spoil her, but he had an ulterior motive. He feared for her. Until she turned fully immortal, she was nearly as vulnerable as a human. Vampires were overrunning the earth and would seek to hurt her in retaliation for his decades-long war with them.
She unwrapped the cloth, revealing a pair of short swords sheathed in leather. He perceived her excitement as she withdrew one of them, holding it up to the firelight. "'Tis so beautiful, Aidan!"
He'd commissioned the pair to be forged from the strongest metals known in the Lore. The blades were perfectly balanced, engraved with glyphs of lightning, and polished to a sheen that reflected her glow.
She stood, swirling both the swords with her Valkyrie's grace, her wrists fluid, the movements so natural that she looked like she'd been born with them in hand. His heart swelle
d to see her like this. She would become a legendary swordswoman.
"Aidan, I've never been given anything so fine." Her irises shimmered with emotion. Just as they did whenever he brought her release.
After only two weeks with her, the sight of her silver eyes like this had his shaft rising for her.
"I will become skilled with these." She gazed up at him as if he were a hero of the ages.
Looks like that could go to a man's head. Already he stood taller when his woman was near. "I will see to it." Just as I will see to it that you come to love me. But he knew it would take time. She was still hesitant about remaining with him for longer than their agreed-upon three months.
Ah, but Reginleit had begun to light up--literally--every time he came into view. And with each battle, he moved closer to the time he would claim her completely. He couldn't fight them fast enough, at times wondering how much longer he could resist the fated pull to her.
When her gaze dipped to his erection tenting the blanket, she murmured, "Perhaps our training can begin in the morn?" She was already trembling, her claws curling for her man. She clearly had been awaiting his return.
He took the swords from her and sheathed them in a rush. "In the morn, then. For now, I am going to kiss you as I've craved all day." He swept her up in his arms, carrying her to the furs and laying her atop them. After ridding himself of the blanket, he followed her down.
He made short work of her kirtle, baring her body to his greedy gaze. Where to kiss her first? Her taut nipples strained for attention. He'd see to them.
When his lips closed over one, her back bowed and lightning struck outside.
As he suckled her, she clutched him close, kneading the muscles in his back with growing fervor. He released the damp tip once it was nice and stiff, blowing on it.
"Aidan!"
As she arched for more, he turned to her other one, twirling his tongue around it. She was so damned responsive to him. Her breasts were exquisitely sensitive, her ears as well. And her sex ... He savored that secret part of her, could lick her for hours. With that aim in mind, he relinquished her breasts and eased downward, settling her thighs over his shoulders.
With his first lick of her flesh, pleasure overwhelmed him. Little wonder that he grew ravenous to taste her, grew irritable in battle when denied his hours of kissing her sweet sex. Yes, he did kill quicker just to get back to this honey sooner.
His tongue snaked over that sensitive bud, but she was already about to peak. He grinned against her flesh. His little goddess was lusty.
"Your fingers, Aidan," she moaned. She loved to be penetrated, even when he licked her. She would come hard around his fingers when he sank them deep inside her.
His Reginleit was so ready to be claimed completely. Merely awaiting him. "You'll come too quick, love."
She made a sound of frustration, but he wanted to keep her on edge. So he drew back, lying down and lifting her to straddle his head. Like this, he could watch her writhe above him, her skin glowing hotly.
He clamped his arms over the tops of her thighs, fixing her tight to his mouth. As he lapped at her core again and again, his shaft stood rigid as a pole.
She moaned low. "Please, Aidan, now ... now."
Unable to deny her, he plunged his stiffened tongue, once, twice, his hips thrusting in time--
She threw her head back as she came atop him. "Ah, gods, yes!" She undulated over his mouth, rocking on his tongue. Lightning streaked outside, and thunder rumbled across the land as he licked her orgasm, groaning in bliss. ...
Once he'd wrung every last moan from her, they both collapsed on the furs, catching their breath.
Yet then she began to kiss down his neck, continuing a sensuous path to his chest and lower.
Gods, if she could be just as hungry for him as he was for her. He hadn't pushed for this pleasure from her. She was still young, and he wanted to ease her into it. He knew his actions in the beginning could help determine whether she loved the act or hated it--for eternity.
"Reginleit, what are you doing?"
"I want to kiss you. As you keep kissing me."
He coughed into his fist, striving for an offhand tone. "Oh, then, and what do you know of suckling a man?"
She gazed up at him, her ears twitching. "I know from the timbre of your voice 'tis very important to you."
"Perceptive, Valkyrie," he said with pride. And every day I love her more than the last.
"Teach me how."
With an audible swallow, he guided her head down, loving the feel of her hair gliding over his chest, his nipples. "Press your lips here, Reginleit"--he pointed to the swollen crown--"and give it a lick."
She darted her tongue along the slit, and he uncontrollably gave up a bead of semen. "You do not have to ..." He trailed off when she eagerly lapped at him, as if she sought more.
"I like this taste. Your taste."
She was a prize to be treasured! He cradled her face with shaking hands. "I've much more to give you. Will you take it from me?"
"Is that what your other women have done?" Of her own accord, she nuzzled his testicles, her wicked tongue flicking them as well.
"Ah!" He fought to keep his hips still. "I do not recall others before you," he said honestly. "You've bewitched me."
"I will take from you."
"Then suck the head hard while pumping your fist beneath your mouth. And you will have a willing slave." His clever Reginleit stroked him so perfectly as she suckled. And all the while, her heavy-lidded gaze remained on his, her eyes silvery with desire.
He palmed the back of her head, his legs falling open. "Touch yourself, love," he rasped. "I want you to come ... with my shaft deep in your mouth."
She moaned around his flesh as she began masturbating her sex, rubbing it with nimble fingers. Outside, her lightning lit up the night once more.
"Valkyrie, you madden me." The pressure built as her mouth and hand effortlessly worked his length, the base swelling as his semen rose for her. Desperate to release it, he just stopped himself from bucking. "Reginleit, my seed! I'm about to spill on your tongue if you do not draw away--"
She robbed him of words as she sucked even harder, demanding his manhood's offering.
He was helpless not to give it. ...
A wild ocean storm pounded the island, mirroring Declan's turbulent thoughts as he ran headlong into the gale.
Earlier in the night, he'd had the most realistic dream he'd ever experienced--one about the Valkyrie and her berserker. One that had made Declan awaken in a rush, on the very verge of coming, with his hips rocking and his cockhead wetting the sheet.
He'd sworn he could still feel her tongue against him, could still hear her moans.
Declan swiped a hand over his face. God help me, I was still licking my lips for more of her taste.
Mingled with that aching need had been ... a lingering tenderness for her. And maybe even a thread of guilt for threatening her swords.
Which disgusted him. Had the dream been an entrancement, or something new?
He pushed himself over precarious forest trails, ripping off his shirt, leaving only his fatigue pants and boots.
He ignored the tree limbs that raked his bared chest, ignored his burning lungs as he covered mile after mile. Lightning struck all around and the winds howled, but he savored the wildness of the night, the bite of rain driving against his scarred skin.
Anything but succumb to that dream of the Valkyrie.
Somehow she'd made him experience that scene. A day of firsts, she'd told him. Her first time to suck off a man. And he'd imagined it, as if on cue, his mind supplying details to build on her story. Just as she'd intended.
Declan had even dreamed of pleasuring her--a detrus--with his mouth. Which just made him even more suspicious. Because his own predilections didn't match his dream.
Unlike Aidan, Declan had never gone down on a woman, had never had that kind of time to spare during sex. Not before he would grow sick.
/> In truth, he'd never much seen to a woman's pleasure at all. And though he was certain he'd received oral sex in the hazy days before his body had been maimed, he couldn't quite recall it.
This isn't me. I don't want her for these things ...
Perhaps the Valkyrie had some power he wasn't aware of. Maybe a dreamcasting ability, like the dream demons possessed. Which meant an element of mind control.
He was a man who needed constant control over every aspect of his life, a man who worshipped strength and will. The last time I had them taken from me ...
The Valkyrie would pay for toying with him.
He pushed himself until his lungs were heaving and his muscles quaked. Mud splashed up, all over his shuddering body, and still he ran.
Running as if something pursued him.
EIGHTEEN
Chase is having the dreams.
As soon as Vincente escorted her into the magister's office the next night, Regin knew. Chase had begun reliving Aiden's time with her, remembering them sexually.
His eyes were on her like a hawk's, his gaze possessive and familiar. He was looking at her like a man who'd seen her naked--and liked the view.
The dreams marked the beginning of the end for each of Aidan's reincarnations. Normally this stage would send her into hysterics.
But now it meant progress. Right? Press on, Regin.
"Leave us," Chase told the guard, never glancing away from her.
Vincente turned without a word, his face expression-less as usual.
When they were alone, Regin said, "Vincente doesn't think it's weird for me to be coming here?"
"It's not his job to think. He's only supposed to follow my orders."
Chase's voice was naturally raspy, but tonight it was even huskier, making her ears twitch in reaction.
"So, I was about to lodge a formal complaint about Fegley," she said. "But this doesn't seem to be a customer-service-oriented establishment." Again, she hopped up on his desk, onto his perfectly stacked papers. His brows drew together, but he didn't bother ordering her away.
"Any minute now, I expect that little tool to say, 'It rubs the lotion on its skin.' He's gonna meet a bad end."
"You're psychic now? Or making futile plans?"
"I'm just old." She sighed. "You see guys like him over and over, and you get to be a crack at predicting it. And speaking of ridiculously ineffectual workers ... Dixon keeps staring at me with those buggy Where's Waldo? glasses. It's almost as if she's fantasizing about playing with my insides. Oh, wait. She is." Regin tilted her head. "I'll bet she fantasizes about you even more."