In an instinctive reaction to the pleasure rippling through my system, my hips rose to meet his mouth.
He was not gentle. He was voracious. Lips, tongue, suction, he used it all. My fingers curled into the covers as my neck arched and moans of sheer pleasure purred from my throat.
His hands went up the back of my thighs to my knees and pushed them high, until they were at my sides.
This gave him better access which he utilized to his definite advantage.
I was close, so close, right there and it was going to be beyond anything I’d ever experienced. Beyond anything any woman had ever experienced (unless she’d been with Lucien, obviously).
My hands went from the comforter to his head, holding him to me as I prepared to topple over the edge.
His mouth disappeared and I was yanked right back.
“No!” I cried as his big body settled on me and his strong hand cupped me between my legs, keeping me warm but exerting no pressure which was a cruel tease.
“Now, you beg, Leah,” he said against my mouth.
With effort, my eyes focused on him and I screamed, “I hate you!”
He disappeared but only for a moment then his mouth was back at me. The advantage I’d gained over my body’s reaction was lost in seconds. This time he teased as I fought my rising desire. When I lost, he made me go after it. He gave me enough to keep me squirming. And when my fingers clutched his hair in defeat, he gave me all of it again.
Then, right at the golden moment, he was up over me and covering me again.
“Beg,” he demanded.
It took everything I had but I focused on him. “Go to hell!”
He rolled to his back taking me with him, pulling me up over his body, spreading my legs, he settled me in a crouch on his mouth. Hands strong on my hips, he pulled me down and kept at me.
It was delicious. It was divine. It was ecstasy.
I grabbed the headboard and moaned deep in the back of my throat, no longer conscious of the sounds I was making. I rocked my hips against my mouth. He pulled down on them, going deeper, using his tongue in new and astounding ways. He took me there again, to that glorious place and right before I felt it coming, he pulled me away from his mouth and yanked me down his body.
“Beg me for it, Leah.” His voice was husky and near to a plea all on its own.
He had an arm tight around my waist, fastening my squirming body to his. His other hand was working between our bodies but I was too much in a state to notice what he was doing. Every centimeter of my skin was sensitized beyond being bearable. I could even feel the air around us causing agonizing pleasure.
His hands went to the backs of my knees and jerked them up. I was straddling him and for one beautiful moment I felt the hard, hot tip of him enter me.
In triumph, I ground my hips down but he was faster than me. He caught me at my waist before I gained half an inch.
My head snapped up and my eyes flew to his.
“You want my cock inside you?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
I did. I wanted it more than oxygen.
I remained silent.
He inched up what felt like a millimeter and I felt my lids slowly close in rapture. Then he stopped and my eyes shot open.
“Beg me, pet,” he whispered, his voice now tortured.
I had no voice so I shook my head.
“Beg me,” he ordered harshly.
“No,” I breathed.
“You want me,” he stated.
I stared at him then I nodded.
“Then beg me.”
Finding a strength inside me that I didn’t even know was there, I pulled up against his hands, my body straining against my brain’s demands and I couldn’t believe it, he let me.
I felt the small but hard and thick and unbelievably magnificent piece of him that I had slide out of me.
It felt like I’d lost a piece of me, not him, when I pulled free.
Regardless, stubborn to the last (and now hating myself for it), my eyes locked on his and I declared, “You won’t break me.”
His arms wrapped around me, crushing me to him, I was hoping in defeat so he’d give me what my body was aching for.
Instead, he rolled us to our sides, his arms still holding me close and into the top of my hair, he said, “You’ve forced my hand, Leah.”
Fear pierced through me because, without any attempt to hide it, his voice was filled with regret and I didn’t know why. What was worse, even though I didn’t know what he regretted, I had a feeling whatever it was, was something I’d regret more.
He kept talking. “I’m leaving and when I return, if I find you’ve touched yourself, you’ll have a week of what you just had and you can beg me until you’re hoarse to make me let you come but I won’t do it. Am I understood?”
“You’re understood,” I mumbled into his chest where he’d pressed my face.
He tensed as if to move and I didn’t want him to go. Not because I forgot he disgusted and terrified me and I detested him, I only could forget those when his mouth was between my legs and other times besides, but because any movement made my body feel like it was going to shatter.
I felt his body relax right before he sighed.
Then he asked, “Why do you fight me, sweetheart?”
I didn’t answer. To answer was to trust him with a piece of me and after all that he’d done to me and what he’d done to his fucking wife, I knew he was not someone I could trust.
Ever.
No matter how gentle he could seem.
Like right now.
Or when he called me sweetheart. Or when he laughed like I was the funniest person he’d ever met in his centuries upon centuries of life.
He went on, “You must know it will be good.”
Oh, I knew that.
I still didn’t answer.
He sighed again before he murmured, “You don’t understand.”
No.
I.
Did.
Not.
And I didn’t want to.
I still didn’t speak.
“My pet, it’ll be so much better when you submit to me. That, I can promise. Not just here, in bed, but all of it, everything that will be you and me. I promise you, Leah, I’m trying to give you something beautiful. I can’t explain it, you have to feel it. But to feel it, you must trust me.”
Fat chance of that.
I still didn’t speak.
For a while, he didn’t either.
Then, as if he wasn’t talking to me (which he wasn’t), he muttered, “I’m the one who wanted a challenge. I need to get my fucking head examined.”
I didn’t understand that either.
There was a lot that I didn’t understand.
But I didn’t ask.
And I was never going to. Never, never, never.
Gently he pulled away from me. The loss of his hard warmth meant the cold hit my sensitive nudity like a slap. He adjusted his jeans and had me beneath the sheet in a blur of motion, faster than he’d been before even when he was being Speedy Vamp.
Obviously, he’d been holding out on me.
He pulled my hair away from my shoulder and I shoved my face in the pillow to escape his action even though I allowed his touch.
“Stubborn,” he murmured but I could swear there was pride mixed with the frustration in his voice.
And I didn’t understand that either.
Then he was gone but within five minutes he was back, this time dressed in a suit.
He sat on the edge of the bed and I glared up at him as he gazed down at me.
“It’s been a long time that, on some level, I didn’t look forward to attending A Feast,” he informed me and my body grew rock solid.
He was going to A Feast.
Unbidden, unwanted but undeniable anguish scorched through me, hot and biting.
He bent forward, brushing my cheek with his lips. “Have a good day, pet, and sleep well.”
Oh my God!
> He wasn’t even coming home.
Even though my mind screamed, my mouth nor body moved.
He did. In an instant, he was gone.
I hate you, my brain whispered.
I heard you, sweetheart, he whispered back.
His endearment burned into me like a brand.
I know, I told him.
Stubborn, he told me.
I turned off my mind, turned my face in my pillow and put every effort into making absolutely certain I didn’t cry.
After a long struggle, at last, I finally succeeded at something.
It was an empty victory.
Chapter Eleven
The Betrayal
Lucien’s eyes scanned the heaving dance floor and he saw her.
Although he didn’t often attend this particular Feast, he’d seen her before. Each time she’d enticed him, long, dark blonde hair, blue eyes, curvy body, alluring scent.
Tonight, she did especially as she was wearing a black dress almost like the one Leah had worn last night. Not the same quality but close enough.
Everything about her was not the same quality but close enough.
He knew she captured his attention because she reminded him of Leah. It had been the reason he’d never taken her. He was anticipating the real thing, not an oft-used imitation.
But tonight, she’d do.
Her eyes caught his and she smiled beguilingly, an open and eager invitation. It was clear she was his to do with as he wished and this Feast, as he wished, had very few boundaries.
He looked away, allowing his aversion to show.
Eager and willing were not what he wanted. Spirit, personality, passion, defiance, fear, challenge, those were what he wanted.
After centuries he finally had all of that, a great deal of it. It was just that he was finding it maddening to an extreme.
And excruciatingly frustrating.
Lucien attended Feasts often, even if he particularly liked the taste of his concubine and, it went without saying, he particularly liked the taste of Leah. He was a vampire with a healthy appetite and Feasts allowed him diversity in that appetite.
However, over the last several centuries, he’d grown weary of them.
All the mortals who attended Feasts were registered with The Council. They were safe, healthy, willing, well-bred, from well-to-do families and their time was limited. They had two years to attend Feasts, any Feast they wanted, as many as they could attend before they were retired.
Fallen concubines were a different story. They came to Feasts and, out of respect for their legacy families, they were reluctantly allowed to attend but they weren’t registered. However The Council tracked them and after a few years the fallen concubines were eventually banned.
There were times when vampires had a taste at A Feast that they exceptionally enjoyed, one they didn’t wish to share. If this was the case, they could petition The Council. If The Council found the mortal suitable, the family would be approached for recruitment. If accepted, that mortal could become the vampire’s concubine. But also that new concubine’s line would forever be in the life.
The mortal never refused. Every mortal there hoped to be claimed into the life, ensuring their own continued feeding and their line’s future.
It rarely happened that a vampire made this petition but it was encouraged by The Council. More choice at Selections meant happier vampires.
The concubine lines detested it when this happened, more choice meant less opportunity for their own line to be chosen.
Surveying the crush of bodies in the room, Lucien couldn’t imagine petitioning for such a mortal. Although he enjoyed Feasts on a variety of levels, most especially being with his brethren in a place where they could be who they were without hiding, without secrets, he didn’t enjoy the mortals they drew. They were, for all practical purposes, whores without any money changing hands. He fed from them, naturally, but he’d never chosen from a line recruited from A Feast. The very idea of entering an Arrangement with such a mortal was repugnant to Lucien.
This attitude, Stephanie told him, was alarmingly superior but he didn’t give a fuck.
To take his mind off the woman on the dance floor and his thoughts, he started to sip his martini and noticed the glass was drained. He turned away from his position facing the room to the bar, caught the bartender’s attention and jerked up his chin. The bartender acknowledged his order and started to work on another martini, leaving the drinks he was preparing sitting on the counter unfinished.
Lucien looked at the three women whose drinks had gone wanting. Mortals. All looking at him. All smiling at him. All smiling the same smile the blonde had tossed him.
His eyes raked over them in revulsion and their smiles wavered, one went pale and turned away. Lucien did as well.
And his thoughts went instantly to Leah.
It had been difficult to shut her from his mind but he had succeeded in doing so the last ten hours, mainly with work.
There were many vampires who amassed their fortunes and happily lived their eternities managing them and living off the interest.
Lucien was not such a vampire.
Unlike everything else in his life, his business never ceased to be a challenge. There was always a new mountain to be tried, tested and conquered. New inventions, new technologies, new strategies and more and more money to earn. If it hadn’t been for that, he would have gone mad ages ago.
The bartender served his martini. Lucien paid for it, turning back unseeing to the room and allowing his thoughts to travel to Leah.
His fury had cooled considerably since their confrontation. Although, the thought of her declaration of him “disgusting” her still made him clench his teeth.
However Lucien had to admit that she didn’t know male and female vampires were vastly different from her kind. Females were just as strong and skilled as males, many more so. For instance, Stephanie, who was known to be a fierce and cunning fighter.
He further had to admit there was no way for Leah to know the way of vampire mates. This would not even have been covered in Vampire Studies had she managed not to be expelled.
She had no way of knowing that, because of the matched strength and the way of their culture, vampires, especially mates, did not settle arguments by having heartfelt chats or seeking counseling.
They challenged then they battled physically with no rules and no holds barred.
This had the benefit of settling the order of vampires, who was strongest, quickest, sharpest and smartest.
In the case of mates, this had the additional benefit that, more often than not, physical duels led to something vastly more pleasurable.
He also had to admit that there was no way of Leah knowing his history with Katrina. Her frequent and misguided jealous rages. Her phone calls, sometimes a dozen a day. To check in, she said. To check up, she meant. Her constant suspicion, rifling through his things, listening into phone calls.
And then there were the times, infrequent though they were, they happened far too often for Lucien’s liking, when she would appear at A Feast that Lucien was attending. She’d done this twice. Then he’d had to break her of this habit which he’d done by more than bloodying her nose. He’d also broken her femur and five ribs, all of which healed within an hour and, obviously, it had not led to something more pleasurable. This happened after she’d entered his private chamber and appeared at his side when he was actually feeding. Suggesting, during those times, with false sensuality, that they share the mortal morsel. That such an activity would bring them closer together.
Katrina knew he didn’t like to share.
During these two times, she had also infiltrated his privacy, something he required even at A Feast. He meant it when he told Leah he “danced” privately. He didn’t simply not share the mortal on whom he was feeding, he didn’t share the experience. Therefore he always took a private room, leaving the group feeding to others. He disliked the idea of other mortals, or vampires for that m
atter, getting off on watching him with his meal.
And they would, he’d be the center of attention. He always was.
It wasn’t that he thought it was a private activity. He too enjoyed watching others feed. He also meant it when he told Leah he thought it was beautiful.
It was just his nature.
Even if for only one feeding, that mortal was his and his alone and, in any way the word could be defined, he didn’t share.
And lastly, Leah didn’t know what he was risking for her. To have her in every way meant he was challenging his culture, his people’s way of life and hers and putting his own life at risk.
Even though he had to admit all those things, the simple fact of the matter was, she hadn’t asked.
Not a single question.
She instantly thought the worst of him, judging him through the acceptable behaviors of her own culture, never considering there might be a difference in his.
Not only that, he had saved her from Katrina’s attack, which would have been deadly.
He had also, very blatantly, shown his preference for Leah over his own mate. This was not something she could know was completely unheard of in the vampire realm but any woman of his experience would have had a vastly different reaction to Leah’s.
Not to mention, with all of this, in addition to his clothes in her closet, his body in her bed, the rather luxurious roof over her head and opulent wardrobe he had provided her, he had made it abundantly clear she had his continued protection, his undivided attention and his profuse generosity.
None of which, considering her reaction, seemed to penetrate that obstinate fucking brain of hers.
It was high time, Lucien decided, that Leah learn these important lessons.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Cosmo said, appearing at his side, smiling at Lucien and taking him from his thoughts.
“I could say the same,” Lucien replied. “This isn’t normally your scene.”
Cosmo murmured, “Vodka, rocks,” to the bartender and turned his attention back to Lucien. “It isn’t yours either.” Then he looked around while asking, “Where’s Leah? Is she in the restroom?”
“She’s home,” Lucien answered and Cosmo’s head swung to him.