In Pursuit of Prey: Of Gods and Consorts, Book 1 (10 page)

“Goddess,” he sighs. “I love you.”

“And I you.”

Then a quizzical expression crinkles the corners of his eyes. His fingers stroke my cheeks, my nose, even brush my eyelashes. “Where’s…” he starts. “No, scratch that. How did you bring back this gorgeous face?”

“Magick, Mace. Magick.”

“You didn’t have to, y’know.” He kisses each eyelid lightly. “I want to be with you, no matter what…”

“I know that now.” His pulse dances over the skin of my palm when I put my hand on his chest. I kiss his lips again, for the pure pleasure of tasting him. “But I would sacrifice anything—everything—even my divinity, to be with you.”

“Mmmm,” he growls. “But I like my goddess.” His tongue strokes the
 
“s” in a most pleasurable way.

“And I like my singer.” My siren…something he will have to learn of soon.

“How about we get off this stage and get outta here?”

He slides a hand down my arm, rough calluses trailing over my delicate human skin. I twine my fingers in his. He kisses me again, quickly, and then again, deep and hard like he’s trying to steal my breath. “I can’t get enough of you,” he says.

“We do have some time to make up for.”

Mace’s expression speaks volumes when he turns to Jazz.

“Go on!” the guitarist says, throwing up his hands in mock defeat. “Get out of here and get serious with her.”

“I fully intend to,” Mace says, and squeezes my hand. “Come on, gorgeous, my car is just outside.”
 

We hurry offstage, Mace shouting promises of, “Tomorrow night,” and “Yeah, the song will be a regular,” while he nearly drags me out the rear door. The cool night envelopes us outside the club, a fresh breeze blowing across the back parking lot full of boxy, ugly cars. As if we never parted, Mace spins me and presses my back to the wall. Pressing his body against mine, pinning me to the cement, he buries me in a heated kiss that leaves me gasping.
 

And I love it.
 

I want more. I want a lifetime of it. As if lonely for my body, Mace canvasses my curves in an eager rush of hands, then clutches me to him. The bulge in his jeans rides the zipper of mine when he cups my ass and lifts me onto him. Suspended by his hands, I grind on the erection I know is hiding a few pieces of clothing away. Our lips press, mouths open and tongues tangle.
 

Mace carries me to his white car, where he pins me against back door and growls like any animal god as he kisses me. The thrum in his chest wakes the siren magick in him. My blood heats, heart races and a want so hot it almost burns consumes me.
 

The sky spins when he yanks open the front door and plunges us both into the shadowy confines of his vehicle.
 

Mace guides my body inside, pulls off my blouse and exposes my tank top beneath. Crouching between my thighs, one knee in and one foot outside the car, Mace emits an almost-pained noise. After exhaling a heavy breath, he pounces, nearly frantic, licking and kissing and biting every bit of exposed skin he can reach.
 

Then suddenly, he stops and takes both my hands to his chest.

“I’m so sorry,” he says. “I know I overreacted—”
 

“You did not. You are human.” I cup his face, fingers to either side of the scratch left on him by the succubus who nearly killed us both with her poison. “I was the one who went too far. And I am sorry I abandoned you.”

“But you didn’t.” His messy spiked hair whisks close to my face when he shakes his head. “You came back. Twice.”

“Twice?” But he was unconscious, frozen beneath Naami’s claws.

“I saw you that night. I thought I was dreaming until I woke up and smelled your sweet spice oil.”

“I couldn’t let her hurt you,” I say, then shift a finger to brush the scab on his cheek. “At least any more than she had.

“When Naami wouldn’t see reason, I dragged her into the in-between. We fought, her demon blood infecting the cuts she inflicted. If you hadn’t poured everything you had into your music, I might never have awakened. You saved me.”

His gaze falls to the space between us. “I’m just a singer.”

“You’re so much more than that.” I force him to look at me. “You have magick of your own. The succubus was drawn to you because of it.”

“Magick?” Doubt shoves his voice a notch higher.

“Yes. You have siren blood in you. It’s diluted enough to keep the negative attributes at bay, but you literally have a magick voice.”

“And you’re a goddess.”

“Not like I used to be.” The pain of what I’d sacrificed rings in my voice. “The magick I used is as permanent as we are, Mace. I gave up that part of my divinity until our bond is broken. I cannot return to my Temple. I cannot return to my time. Not until this life with you has ended.”

“You gave all that up to be with me?”

“Yes.” A tear beads and rolls.

“But, what if things hadn’t worked out? To make a sacrifice like that…” Mace’s voice fades, the extent of my love for him now evident and undeniable.
 

“A fierce, divine heart beats in my chest, but I am a woman. I know what I need. I know what I want. And that…” Another tear falls. “Is you.”

“I would have loved you anyway.”
 

“So it would seem.” I smile then, and wink playfully.
 

“Let’s get you home,” he says, then nips my neck and kisses it. “And we can christen my bedroom.”

What an odd word choice. “Christen?”

His door opens, letting in a gust of air. I shiver a little, taking a chill without him so close.
 

“Yeah,” he says, leaning across my lap to pull the door closed before he shuts his own. “You really don’t know, do you?”

“I’m afraid I’m not familiar with your modern slang.”

His grin shifts from rock singer to rogue. “Oh, goddess, I have a lot to teach you…”

Is it the tone in his voice? The devilish glint in his eyes? Perhaps the two combined. Regardless, I realize he’s using an innuendo. I return his smile with one of my own. “And I look forward to the lessons.”

I trace a fingertip down his belly, grazing his beltline and then fondling the ridge of his strained zipper. He wraps his fingers around my hand, shakes his head and turns the key in the ignition. The engine purrs. A pleasant growl rumbles under the hood. I echo the rumble with a deep purr as the vehicle rolls onto the street.
 

“I like that.”

“Yeah? I can teach you to drive it someday.”

“Maybe someday…” I turn to him then, not satisfied with waiting for what I want now. “And maybe we should christen the car…”

“What? Here? While I’m driving?” Mace’s voice rings with incredulity. He looks at me, eyes wide, and then drops a gaze at the lack of space between him and the steering wheel. His cock responds when I stroke his erection harder. Breath hisses through Mace’s teeth. Then, reaching behind the seat, he pulls a lever and pushes the seat back. He flicks a gaze at me, then at the black glass plate in the roof. A wicked light flames in his eyes. “Damn it, woman. You are gonna kill me.”

“So…” I slide my hand over his denim-clad bulge. “Is that a ‘no’ then?”

“Ummm… no.”

“Then…” I ease my hand down to fondle his sac. “Is that a ‘yes?’”

“Oh, hell yeah.”

Even though he expects it, he still gasps when I pull down his zipper and lick the head of his cock. The engine revs, and he swears at himself while I wriggle his jeans down far enough to expose him. Then Mace reaches overhead and pushes a button to open the roof.
 

The smoky glass slides back, making room for me to straddle him. Air whispers in my hair, tickling down my neck and questing through my tank top. He cranes his neck to the side, struggling to see the road. To compensate, I arch my body in order for him to see around me.
 

“Ready?” I ask.

Mace doesn’t need to answer.

His ready interest is evident, standing at attention in the curls of hair surrounding his shaft. The head of his cock brushes the lips of my pussy, a teasing, tingling kiss I’m not ready to move past yet. He feels so good slipping on the edge of plunging in me. Tipping my hips, I guide the smooth round tip along my crease, reveling in the heat, reveling in the sensations flooding up through me. His foot presses the accelerator and the engine roars. Wind whips my hair past my face in a sheet of shining gold.

“Oohh, God,” he groans.

“Goddess,” I remind him.

Another tip of my hips and erotic slide of his cock. Mace shudders, and his foot presses down harder. The engine responds, hurling the car down the road. One hand leaves the steering wheel in favor of clutching my waist. He forces my pussy down, gliding on his cock until he’s fully inside me. His dick fills me, setting nerves alive with passion. It’s my turn to catch my breath. The engine’s roar sends a second tremble though us and strokes points inside he didn’t reach before.

Pleasure rises in me, thick hot waves to battle with the chill of the wind biting my skin and scalp. I pull up along his shaft, slow, torturous for us both, then plunge down again.
 

Mace grows harder with each thrust. I claw the headrest of his seat with each rise and fall. He paws at my body with one hand, the other white-knuckle gripped around the steering wheel.

Beneath me, Mace begins to rock his hips against my downward slide, pumping his cock deeper into me, rubbing every ridge and ripple and vein inside. Panting, I try to catch a breath from the whipping wind. He’s driving the car like he’s going to war, and driving me to an orgasm in the same manner.

Then Mace doubles my pleasure. He works his free hand across my hip and between my folds to tease my clit. I groan aloud, the sound disguised by the squealing of his tires as he turns the car into a long, low structure. I rock down and forward; he thrusts in a counter rhythm up and in.
 

His eyes roll, he blinks and focuses. Then Mace parks the car. Free to focus on me, he lets out a throaty moan and pumps into my pussy.
 

I lose sight of everything when my eyes close in ecstasy. I moan and writhe and push against him when the warmth of his mouth envelopes my nipple and his fingers find the other beneath my shirt.

A few more thrusts, and he’ll drag us both over the edge of orgasm. He comes then, shuddering with adrenaline. The pulsing of his cock pushes me under, and I drown in the bliss of climax too.
 

Mace leans his head on my chest for a moment, the heat of his flushed cheeks filtering through my shirt. His chest heaves with deep breaths. I tense, and gather my legs to better pull off him. Mace reacts instantly, clutching my hips with both hands to hold me in place.
 

“Don’t move.” He sucks in big gulps of air. “I am so fucking dizzy…”

I laugh and bring a hand up to lick across my palm. I press it to his head, focusing my magick on him. A warm, red glow blooms around my hand, pulsing with my heartbeat. The misty light seeps into Mace’s skin and disappears.

His chest expands, almost unsettling me when he draws a breath. Then he leans his head back and gazes at me, his cocoa irises narrowed in shock. “Wh-what did you do? How did you…”

“Silly boy,” I coo. “I am the goddess of sexual heat. I can use that however I wish, even to heal a lover.”

“Really? But, I thought…”

By the look in his eyes, and the subtle shift in the aura he puts off, I know what he thought.
 

“No, Mace, I didn’t give up all of my powers. I cannot return to my Temple, nor to Egypt. I have sacrificed my divine lion form, but I did not give up all of my powers.”

“Good! I was so worried that you’d given up everything for me.”

“No worries. Not anymore.”

His arms circle me in a hug, which he then uses to lift my body from his pelvis. “We really should get dressed and go in,” he says. “I don’t want anyone to see us.”

I follow his pointed stare in the direction of the apartment building behind us, and the few illuminated windows. I grin, feline, and would show my long canine incisors, if I still had them. Let them look. I do not care who sees us. Mace is mine, and we both know it. So can they.

“If you insist,” I acquiesce. This is his time, after all, his world now. So many things have changed, and there will have to be some compromise between my unabashed sexuality and the environment I choose to be in.

Mace pulls his jeans up and slips from beneath me. I put my pants on by thrusting my bare legs outside of the car, then pulling them up and climbing out at the same time. The building is big, flat, no character or presence at all. So…mundane. It cannot be as bad as it seems if a siren lives within. Fingers laced, Mace leads me across the parking lot and up a flight of stairs, to a battered metal door. He pauses, his hand on the knob.

“It’s not very tidy.” His cheeks turn pink. Embarrassment is attractive on him. “I didn’t expect to bring home a goddess. I’ve been kind of compulsive since you returned me. All I could think of was you, and that song…”