Bittersweet Magic (27 page)

“So are we meeting in your office?” Christian asked.

She tried to make sense of the words as she glanced back over her shoulder. Piers was watching her out of heavy-lidded eyes. “Well?” he asked.

“Multiple—as in more than one?”

“Lots more than one.”

She nodded once, and he released his breath.

He turned briefly to Christian. “Later. We should wait for Asmodai anyway. Call me when he gets here.” Then he put his hands around her waist and tossed her over his shoulder. For one second she considered complaining, but only one, and then she relaxed. She could feel the bunching of his muscles as he moved. He was hard like steel.

“Where the hell are you going?” Christian asked.

Piers paused. “I’m going to debrief Rosamund.”

Roz sniggered again, burying her flaming face against his back and screwing her eyes up tight as she passed the small group.

She didn’t open them until Piers gripped her around the waist and tossed her away. She let out a little yelp as she landed on her back on something soft. She lay in the middle of the biggest bed she had ever seen, in the center of a room with no windows and dark red walls. The sheets beneath her matched the walls, as did the mound of pillows beneath her head.

Piers loomed over her, his eyes dark midnight blue. He unbuckled the shoulder holsters and dropped them to the floor. He did the same with the weapons belt at his waist. Then he pulled the black T-shirt over his head, and her breath caught in her throat.

He was spectacular. Roz came up on her elbows so she could see him more clearly. If he was putting on a show for her, she wasn’t going to miss any of it. His skin was pale, almost glowing with a luminescent sheen, satin stretched over the swell of muscle. His shoulders were broad, his waist narrow, his chest smooth except for a sprinkle of fine golden hair between his pale, almost flat nipples.

His belly was lean, and another strip of golden hair bisected the ridged plane disappearing into his waistband. The black leather pants were a stark contrast to his pale skin. They rested low on his hips, and she could see the bulge of his erection pressing against the zipper.

Her mouth was suddenly dry, and she swallowed. She rolled over, came up on all fours, and crawled toward him, stopping at the edge of the bed and coming onto her knees in front of him. She looked up the line of his body, meeting his dark gaze, then reached out and stroked her finger along the length of his erection beneath the soft, supple leather.

He groaned and his head went back, his hands fisting at his side. She liked that, and she stroked again, loving the tension that stiffened his body. The zipper was right in front of her, and she toyed with it for a second, but she didn’t want to put this off any longer. After flicking open the button, she slowly lowered the zipper. He wore nothing underneath, and his shaft sprang free, almost vertical against his belly. She sat back on her heels and admired him in wondrous silence.

He was beautiful, thick and long, the head flaring and blushed pink with blood. Wet heat soaked her core at the thought of all that thrust inside her. Her hand came out, and she wrapped her fingers around him—his flesh was cool to the touch, and she squeezed so he let out another groan.

She wanted to taste him, and her head came forward, her lips parting, but he stepped back and pulled free.

“Later,” he murmured. “Right now, I need to be inside you.”

“You do?”

“Well, it’s a little hard to hide.”

He kicked off his boots and stripped off the leather pants.

Roz was impressed. She’d worn leather pants a few times, and she’d never managed to get out of them quite that quickly. It must be all the practice.

She was still kneeling on the bed, fully clothed. Piers was naked. It didn’t seem fair and besides, she was slowing things down. Grabbing the bottom of her T-shirt, she dragged it over her head and tossed it to the floor. Her bra quickly followed. She kicked off her sneakers, rolled onto her back, and wriggled out of her jeans and panties.

There, they were even.

For a second, Piers stood staring down at her, his eyes glowing with power, his hot gaze raking over her body. Then he knelt on the bed over her. She scooted back, and he crawled after her, stalking her like some great beast.

Her insides melted, her nipples tightened, and a throbbing pulse beat between her thighs. She arched her back, offering her breasts, and he lowered his head, took one swollen peak between his lips, and suckled. The pleasure shot straight to her groin and a small gasp escaped her. She threaded her fingers through his long, silky hair and held him close as her kissed her other breast. Her thighs fell open, and he shifted so one knee slid between and pushed up against her. The sensation was indescribably good, but she needed more, and she needed it soon.

If she didn’t have him inside in the next few seconds, she would go seriously insane. Might even bite him. She fisted her hand in the hair at the back of his head and tugged, and he raised his head so she could stare into his face. The expression in his eyes nearly made her come.

“Okay, enough foreplay,” she muttered. “I need you inside me.” He chuckled, and she tugged at his hair again. “Are you going to bite me?”

“Would you like me to?”

Roz had a flashback to coming apart in his arms. She wanted that again while he was deep inside. She nodded, and he smiled, revealing his fangs, as though to let her see exactly what he was. No secrets. No nasty surprises.

Then he was kissing her cheek, her lips, her ear, licking, tasting, nibbling his way closer to her throat, and despite the fact she knew there would be no pain, every nerve was taut waiting for his bite.

“Relax.” His soft voice sent shivers rippling through her. “I’ll tell you when.”

He shifted so his hips rested between her thighs, and she could feel his erection nudging at the core of her body. Her breath was coming in short, sharp gasps, and she fought for control. His hand moved between their bodies, and he opened her with skillful fingers. The tips slid over her swollen clit, and she let out a little yelp. His hands moved to grip her shoulders and hold her down—was he expecting her to fight?

“Now,” he said and in one fluid move, he pushed inside her, filling her. At the same time, he lunged, his fangs piercing her throat. And she came.

She arched her back and screamed but was held in place by his firm grip on her shoulders, his mouth at her neck, his cock lodged deep inside her.

He started to move, withdrawing almost all the way before thrusting hard into her, and all the time she could feel the dragging pull of his fangs tugging at places low down in her body.

She was out of control. Her hips thrusting with his, her legs wrapped around his waist, and she lost all concept of time and place. The pleasure was building again, spiraling.

He raised his head, releasing her throat, and his eyes glowed crimson, his mouth stained with her blood. Holding her gaze, he thrust into her, his hips grinding against her sensitive flesh, and she came again.

Each time she came back to herself, he repeated the action, spilling her over the edge. Finally, almost with relief, she felt him tense above her as he found his own release.

Afterward, he rolled onto his back, pulling her with him so she lay sprawled over his long, hard body, totally boneless. She might never move again.

“You okay?” he murmured.

“Oh yeah. Let’s do that again sometime.”

“Whenever you’re ready.” She could hear the grin in his voice, but she ignored it, too sated to be bothered to answer back.

Piers stroked her shoulders and back, drawing lazy circles on her skin, soothing her, and she drifted off into sleep.

…

“Tell me everything,” Roz said.

He rolled onto his front, rested his chin on one hand, and smiled. “Everything?”

“How you became a vampire? Why Andarta wants you so badly…?”

“Well, obviously because I’m irresistible.”

“Obviously,” she said dryly.

Actually, he was pretty irresistible, but she wasn’t going to agree with him; he was already big-headed enough. “Tell,” she urged.

After studying her for a minute longer, he shrugged his agreement. He pushed himself up and bunched the pillows behind him, then sat back and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her against his side.

“A long time ago, in a faraway place…”

“Where and how long?”

“Actually not that far away. Northern France, and just over two thousand years.”

“Wow—you’re old. And French. Double wow.”

“I was a priest, a druid—”

“A priest?” She sounded incredulous. “You were a priest?”

“Yes, I was a priest, and the most powerful druid of the time. I worshipped the Goddess Andarta, and she answered my prayers and came to me in human form.”

“Ha. I’m betting Andarta was never human.”

“In ‘human form’. I never believed she was anything other than a goddess. You could say I worshipped her. And she came to care for me.”

“Aw—that must have been sweet.”

He grinned. “Sweet it was not. But she loved me, and I…”

“You?”

“I loved her, as much as I was capable of loving. Anyway, she loved me, and she hated the idea of me growing old and leaving her. Do you know anything of druid beliefs?”

“A little.”

“I believed that I would be reborn, and if I lived by the proper ways, I would be reborn stronger and more powerful, until my powers would rival the gods themselves. Andarta didn’t want me to die. She sought to give me eternal life.”

“How?”

He cast her an amused glance. “How do you think?”

“She wanted you to become a vampire? But how could she do that? I thought you had to be bitten by another vampire; or is that just myth?”

“No, it’s true. And that’s where Jack comes in. Jack was indebted to her, I’m not sure how or why. But he also loved her, still does…well did, probably right up to the moment I pulled his head off.”

“Aw, poor Jack.”

“When I refused her offer of eternal life—I had no wish to become a drinker of blood—she trapped me, and Jack changed me by force.”

“I guess you weren’t too happy about that.”

“I wasn’t. But I got my own back. I couldn’t destroy Andarta, but I made sure she was out of action for a long, long time.”

“And Jack?”

“Yes, I gave them a nice cozy space together.”

“And they’ve been there since. So I’m guessing she’s not too fond of you anymore.”

He gave her a look she couldn’t quite identify. “She wants me back.”

Shock hit her in the gut and her gaze flew to his face. “She what?”

“She sent Jack with a message, telling me there was a place by her side.”

“And were you tempted?” She gave him her best evil-eyed stare. “Think carefully what you say here.”

“Tempted? Hmm, what was the offer? Consort to a goddess, rule at her side for eternity. What do you think?”

She thought Andarta had better keep out of her way. “She’s not really a goddess, any more than I’m a witch.”

“But you are a witch—you just didn’t know what one was before. In truth—I feel nothing for Andarta now. Except maybe a little grateful. I’d be dead long ago if it wasn’t for her machinations. And all-in-all, I’ve enjoyed what I am.” He turned to her and appeared serious for once. “I was never a good person.”

“Not even when you were alive?”

“Maybe less so then. If you’ve read about druids you must know something of what we were like, what we did.”

“There is very little substantiated evidence for what they actually did—maybe you could write a book on the subject.”

“Perhaps. Anyway, we believed human life was sacred, so what better way to honor the gods than to take that life?”

“Ugh. You performed human sacrifices—like the wicker man?”

“Just like. They were usually criminals, people who had been sentenced to death, but I wasn’t too fussy.”

“Oh.”

“Do you think less of me for it?”

“Probably. But I’ve done things myself that I’ve known were wrong.”

“But you did them for survival.”

“That’s really no excuse. Since when is my survival more important than anyone else’s?”

“It is to me.”

Since her mother’s death, she’d felt as though there was no one who cared whether she lived or died. She was useful to Asmodai, but that was probably all she was to him. Now here was this beautiful man—well maybe not man, but definitely beautiful—and for some strange reason he cared for her. One day soon, she would ask him why. It wasn’t in her nature to just accept things without questioning, but right now she was going to bask in the glow.

Just for a little while.

Surely, she could allow herself that.

“But I haven’t performed a human sacrifice in two thousand years.”

“How about eating them?”

“Most survived; some even enjoyed the experience.”

“I’ll bet.”

“Look, I’ll never be a good person, but I’ve come to terms with what I am, and I have my own set of codes that I don’t cross.”

“It’s none of my business.”

“You’re lying in my bed, naked. I think that makes it your business.”

She peered under the sheet and grinned. “So I am.”

“So you are.”

His voice sounded different, and she glanced up at his face. His eyes were hot and hungry. Her skin suddenly felt too sensitive for the covering, and she peeled it off, wriggled down in the bed, and saw his lips curl in a slow smile that revealed one sharp, white fang.

At the sight, her muscles tensed, and that insistent pulse throbbed between her thighs. He came up over her, and his mouth drifted down over her body, kissing her breasts, then lower, until his cool breath ruffled the curls at the base of her belly.

He shifted beside her so he could kiss the inside of her thigh. “You know you have a vein”—he kissed her again— “just here.” He licked her skin, and the breath caught in her throat. Glancing up the length of her body, there was a question in his eyes.

She nodded and held herself still as his fangs punctured the flesh of her inner thigh. Heat flooded her, soaking her core, and she let her head fall back and gave herself up to the rhythmic tugging. One hand slid up her thigh, easing between the folds of her sex. Her whole body jerked in response as his finger pushed inside her. Then withdrew, and in again, so he was moving to the rhythmic tug of his mouth. Roz could feel the heat building inside her, then he stroked the pad of his thumb over her clit and she came in a slow wave of pleasure that rolled over her, sucking her under.