By the Horns (12 page)

His lips parted from hers in favor of exploring her body. He nipped and teased a path down her throat, then shifted her weight into one arm. She wrapped her other leg around his waist too, her core resting above his eager hardness.

He slid his free hand beneath the hem of her shirt and lifted it above her breasts, reaching behind to undo the bra snap.

A one-handed bra unclasping. Damn. Guess he wasn’t rusty, after all.

The garment conceded to his victory. He pushed it aside and pounced on her bared breast, slanting his mouth over her nipple and drawing it deep into his mouth.

She moaned, and then whimpered as his tongue flicked back and forth across the pebbled peak until an orgasm built inside of her. Hell, he could make her come just from
this
.

She curled her hands around the back of his neck and clawed her nails into his scalp, urging him—no,
begging
him not to stop.

He did, but only to pay fair attention to her other breast. Groaning, he sank to his knees and she straddled his thighs.

He buried his face in her chest, low, feral growls rumbling in his throat. The large ridge of him rubbed the sensitive flesh between her thighs. As they embraced, she undulated against him, grinding their lower bodies together in a decadent rhythm.

Her damp panties against her clit created even more glorious friction. He was so perfectly hard, his erection sat right where she desired. Need, stronger and more frenzied than she’d ever experienced, crested inside her. With each rock along him, each flick of his silken tongue, her desperation grew instead of eased. He should have sent her hurling over the brink of ecstasy, but she missed it altogether in favor of climbing higher and higher.

His muffled grunts. The abrasion of his stubble on her skin. The sheer size of him. They called to a deep, feminine place inside her. A place that didn’t care about their past or their future. That screamed,
he’s a man and I’m a woman
.

He sucked on her nipple, grazing her skin with his teeth, then released the peak to watch her with a dark intensity. His chest expanded and collapsed against hers while they gazed into each other’s eyes. Lost, and somehow, found, at the same time.

One of his hands slipped to her ass and gripped her hard, slamming her against his cock as he rocked his hips to greet hers. “Come for me, Nat.”

Without a single damned warning, her body obeyed his erotic command, shattering. She shot forward to bite his shoulder as some part of her brain still registered their surroundings.

Like poor Mrs. Chen was deaf.

“Fucking yes. That’s it, baby,” he purred, his accent heavy while her sex clamped down. Intense rapture spiked through her veins. The frenzy didn’t relent; aftershocks of bliss continued to lay siege to her body. Holy hell. She whimpered into Kassian’s shoulder.

He groaned in her ear, urging her harder and faster up and down on his cock until suddenly, he tensed. His muscles convulsed beneath her fingertips. Through the fabric of his pants, his cock spasmed. Hard. His deep cry of ecstasy sang in her ears while his hips continued to jerk against hers. Like his lust had no intention of ever being sated.

She’d never witnessed a man climax so intensely before. A display of raw, pure virility.

His orgasm was as erotic as it was damning.

Finally, he collapsed against her. His skin perspired and his breaths fell hot and heavy on her neck. She didn’t move a single muscle and he didn’t either. Slowly, the haze of her euphoria lifted and her brain resumed control.

What the hell had they just done?

Chapter 10

Kassian squeezed his eyes shut, but the sensations of climaxing wouldn’t retreat. Instead, his cock twitched like it was ready for round two. The only blessing in all this was that he hadn’t ejaculated. He’d managed to keep the
jīng
—sexual—energy inside himself. Orgasming without ejaculating was a practice he’d studied when he’d first met Sheng, before he’d given up on the orgasms altogether. The process kept men strong, powerful, and in control. Or so Sheng claimed.

Kassian had found better clarity from never climaxing at all. Still, he was bloody glad his body recalled what to do. At least he hadn’t become depleted in this moment of weakness…

Fuck. Nat’s soft, warm body rested so perfectly in his arms. He’d give anything to keep holding her like this, to pause this moment. Because the second his brain processed what he’d done with Nat, he’d have to face the damning consequences.

His broken vows.

Shit. The dream-like haze lifted. He tensed, waiting for overwhelming remorse to slap him.

It didn’t.

Clenching his jaw, he struggled and failed to experience the emptiness sure to overwhelm him at any moment.

With no explanation and no clear path in front of him, he nudged Nat off his lap, shuffled to his feet, and stumbled into the bathroom.

He ran cold water from the sink, cupped his hands, and splashed his face.

Grimacing, he hung his head so he wouldn’t face the man in the mirror. The one who ought to be suffering intense anguish. Breaking his vows was one thing. He could live with that. But the lack of guilt over his rash actions confused the hell out of him.

He’d acknowledged the possibility of one day ending his vows. On his own terms. With a clear head and a game plan for moving forward. Yet he didn’t possess either of those. His three years of penance swirled down the drain… And he still couldn’t piece together one bloody strip of regret. Where the fuck did that leave him?

Hiding in the bathroom like a pussy while Nat dealt with the consequences. He’d had to leave her, because he’d wanted to stay.

Kassian snorted. His vows weren’t to anyone but himself, which made this lapse worse. He’d set his own standards and then smashed them. He clenched and unclenched his fists a few times before raising his gaze to the mirror and refocusing his features to express nothing but sheer determination.

Get this mission the hell over with.

Maybe once he headed home to Kek Lok Si, he’d reclaim his vows. He stepped into the hallway and bypassed Nat.

“Kassian.” The pleading tone in her voice almost coaxed him to turn back to her, but he sliced off the urge.

She slipped into the bathroom while he assessed the living room for the least confrontational corner to bury his ass into. He settled for the spot in the corner and squeezed into the dainty armchair.

She took her time. Thank fuck. He tapped his foot and drummed his fingers on his thighs. His shoulders tensed at the drone of the shower. He ought to be glad she was washing off his scent. Clenching his jaw, he braced for when she finished. His brain scrambled to procure something to say but, in the end, it would be better not to speak. He refused to discuss this with her and he damn sure didn’t want to hear her regrets.

Mostly, because he still didn’t experience any of his own.

She waltzed out of the bathroom, flicking her wet strands into a ponytail and tucking it beneath her hat. Her expression was as calm and stoic as always. Hell, wasn’t she upset? Her silence irked him, kicking his foul mood up a few more notches.

“It’s dark. We can leave.” Without waiting for him to answer, she opened the door and peeked into the hallway. A moment later, she snuck out.

He grabbed the duffle, but noticed a paper on the countertop on his way out. A thank-you note to Mrs. Chen. Scribbling, he added his signature before following Nat.

They made it to the subway station without incident. He slid his arm through Nat’s to keep up the ruse of being her fiancé. As they were about to board the stationary train, the hairs on the back of his neck pricked.

Nat’s hand tensed on his arm, telling him his sixth sense wasn’t alone in being tapped. “Change of plans,” she whispered, spinning around and dragging him with her. They sprinted back up the two-tiered staircase.

Heavy pounding thudded behind them.

They weren’t alone. That realization brought Ox to the forefront of Kassian’s control. As much as he’d love to have the beast barrel through whoever followed them, they’d pass by far more stealthily without the spirit’s aid.

They sprinted to another platform. A dinging warned the train doors were about to close. He shoved Nat forward and leapt into the car after her just as the doors slid shut.

A few passengers stared at him and Nat. She teetered as though drunk and giggled like a teenager out with her boyfriend for a night of partying. He caught her and swung her around in his arms, dipping his head to steal a quick kiss.

Her soft lips and sweet taste slammed the air from his lungs as though someone crushed his ribs… If he were being honest with himself, it was probably the organ beneath his ribs that hurt like hell. Releasing her lips didn’t ease his suffering as he hoped it would, but Nat’s calm expression declared she’d resumed her role of professional assassin. Their performance was for their audience, yet her act was for him too. He played along, trying to shove aside what had happened between them.

He was grateful Nat didn’t demand anything from him. Instead, she gave him time to cool off without a cloud of awkwardness hanging over his head.

They rode the train for one stop, exited, and climbed back to the streets. Several more times, they switched stations, riding the trains in a zigzagging maze.

During one of the switches, Nat dragged him through an open-air night market. Vendors sold everything from brand-name shoes to food to electronics in the bright red stalls crowding the streets. No cars, just foot traffic. A lot of foot traffic. Nat navigated the hundreds of people shuffling through the packed streets with expertise.

Suddenly, she jerked to a stop in front of a food stall. The air ripened with greasy, briny odors.

“What are you doing? We’re probably still being tailed.” He scanned the crowds, tensing for an attack.

“I’m hungry. I haven’t had anything to eat but gross tea and stale biscuits.” She placed an order and passed a bill to the vendor, who handed her a golden encased skewer.

“What the fuck is that?” Ox snorted and pawed the ground inside its cage.

“Deep fried ox testicles.” She bit into one and moaned. “Yummy.” She waved the skewer under his nose. “Want some?”

“Bloody hell, no.” Kassian grimaced, his hand covering his balls. No wonder Ox shirked. Bad enough the chef had to deep fry them, but skewer them too?

“Would you stop messing with me?” He growled and pinched the bridge of his nose, his anxiety flaring to anger. “You done yet?”

She laughed. “Nope. I’m quite enjoying these.
Mmm
. I love balls,” she purred as though she thoroughly enjoyed eating testicles. The image of her licking his balls flashed through his mind.

He bit his tongue on a groan and glanced to the side.
Hmm
. Nat liked screwing with him? Time to fight fire with fire. Chinese people ate anything and
everything
. He marched to the stall and paid for a bowl of snake soup.

Nat’s eyes widened as he raised the spoon to his lips. “You wouldn’t dare.”

He slurped the soup, chewing on a hunk of snake meat. “Delicious.” He grinned as Nat fumed and stormed toward the next stall.

Tossing the soup in the trash, he followed her. Nat spoke with the vendor and he pointed to a tray for her inspection.

“Fuck, no.” Kassian gaped at the platter displaying an array of animal penises, including a sign scrawled with the Chinese character for “Ox.” “No bloody way is that a fair fight.”

Nat smiled as though she’d hit the bull’s eye. She had. “Promise me you’ll never eat snake again, and I won’t bring some of these back home to cook up.”

He raked a hand through his hair. An easy concession. “Deal.”

She shimmied her ass in a victory dance while he chuckled, shaking his head. Damn. Being with Nat was easy. Too easy. If he wasn’t careful, he’d let her waltz all over his heart again.

The eerie sensation of being followed swept back over him. One glance at Nat confirmed she’d experienced it too. Whoever trailed the two of them, they were good.

Or many.

He and Nat quickened their pace, weaving through the crowds to where the throng of people thinned. Cutting down an alley, they darted out onto an empty street.

As long as he and Nat stayed one step ahead—

A shadowy figure vaulted off the side of the building in front of them and landed. As it straightened, two others joined it. A flash of claws glinted in the moonlight. Demons?

Hell.
He swore under his breath, debating the merits of making a run for it. Beside him, Nat snapped open her fan.

Guess she wasn’t running.

He stood his ground, rolling his shoulders and giving Ox a greater lead on its leash.

The first figure strode forward, holding the others back with a raised hand, and stepped beneath the stream of a streetlight. “Natalie? What a pleasure.”

Kassian whistled low, recognizing the man. “Horse?”

***

Oh, crap. Nat whipped her gaze between the two men. Which was worse? That they knew each other or that Price had followed her?

She stormed toward Price, whipping her fan so the blade rested against his muscular throat. “Wish I could say the same.” True, she dreaded ever encountering him again, but never would she allow him to glimpse any sign of weakness from her.