Prince of Air and Darkness (15 page)

She managed a rueful grin. “You’re just full of these little pearls of wisdom tonight, aren’t you?”

“Hey, the wisdom of the ages is timeless.”

“And the clichés are endless.”

“But my generosity is boundless.”

“Stop it, or you’ll be toothless.”

He laughed and glanced at his watch. “It’s twenty to seven. Put on the finishing touches and then go knock him dead.”

Wishing she felt surer of herself and what she wanted from this date, she walked Jackson to the door and gave him a big, grateful hug. Then, she returned to her bedroom to pick out jewelry and a pair of shoes.

****

Hunter had never felt anything like this in his life. He was nervous. He was excited. He was filled with guilt.

His first step in preparing the evening’s seduction had been to call a caterer—it wasn’t like he’d ever had occasion to learn how to cook. His menu was of the highest order, with decadent selections including foie gras and black truffles, and the petit-fours he’d chosen for dessert reminded him of little, bite-sized Christmas packages.

It was the second step in his preparations that caused the guilt and self-loathing to gather around him in an oppressive cloud. If he managed to seduce her tonight, Kiera would undoubtedly insist he use a condom. Accordingly, he had bought a couple boxes and stashed them in the drawer beside his bed. His mission being what it was, however, he had removed each foil-wrapped condom and used a thin needle to poke several holes all the way through before returning them to the box. Each jab of the needle had made his conscience ache all the more, and he cursed his mother for making him do this.

By some miracle, he’d managed to get his guilt at least partially under control by the time Kiera rang the doorbell promptly at seven o’clock. Carrying out his mother’s plans was the lesser of two evils, and though he loathed the necessity, he told himself he was resigned to it.

He put on a practiced smile as he swung the door open. And had trouble believing it was Kiera who stood on the doorstep before him.

She’d done something to tame the frizz of her hair, and she’d pulled it away from her face to reveal the elegant line of her cheekbones. Her skirt clung alluringly to her hips, showing off the curves she usually hid with her shapeless wardrobe. She smiled at him tentatively, and he had the feeling she was self-conscious in this sexy outfit.

“You look stunning,” he told her, and was rewarded by a broadening of her smile.

“Thanks. I hope I didn’t overdress for the occasion.” She plucked nervously at her silk blouse.

The idea that she’d dispensed with her usual comfy, casual outfits to please him sent his blood rushing south. Not that she needed the sexy clothes to do that to him. When he’d first seen her, he’d sneered a bit at her lack of fashion sense, but now he found he rather liked the lack of artifice it signaled. Hunter never did anything without contemplating what others would think—he couldn’t have survived the Unseelie Court if he weren’t constantly aware of how others perceived him—but Kiera dressed only to please herself, and that very lack of vanity was surprisingly appealing.

 “Not at all,” he assured her, leading her to the dining alcove.

He had set the stage with consummate skill. The small round table was draped with a white tablecloth, adorned with delicate china plates and a pair of crystal candlesticks. Hunter pulled back one of the chairs, and Kiera obediently sat. She breathed deeply.

“It smells wonderful in here,” she said.

“Well, let me serve the first course, then.” He hurried to the kitchen, where he had two salad plates chilling in the refrigerator. When he returned to the table, Kiera was running her fingers idly over the sterling silverware that framed her plate. She smiled when he laid the salad plate in front of her, but he could see at once that she was speculating.

“The silver belonged to my grandmother,” he said, making it up as he went along. “She left it to me when she died.” The lie tripped off his tongue easily enough, but it evoked another twinge of guilt and regret. He wished he could just shove all the lies aside and tell Kiera the truth. Of course, then she would run screaming from the room.

Kiera smiled at him as she picked up the salad fork. “And what about the china? Or is that just something your typical bachelor keeps around the house?”

He couldn’t stomach another lie, so he went with deflection instead. “Am I a typical bachelor?” he asked with a grin.

She rolled her eyes. “Definitely not!”

“So, am I allowed to have china?”

“I never said you weren’t allowed to have china.”

“No, but you implied it was strange for a bachelor to have it.”

“It is. But then, you don’t dress like your typical bachelor, nor do you decorate like one.” Here she encompassed his entire apartment with a sweep of her hand. “I mean, you even
cook
!”

He laughed. “I hate to shatter your illusions. I’ve got plenty of eccentricities, but cooking isn’t one of them. I worked with a caterer to arrange this meal, I’m afraid.” He rested his elbows on the table and gave her a tragic look. “Have I just ruined everything by confessing the truth?”

The look in her eye softened. “Not at all.”

He forced another smile, even as his stomach churned with the bitterness of his deception. God, how he hated this. And yet, no matter how much he hated it, his blood was stirring in all the right ways. He gazed at the curls that cascaded down Kiera’s neck, at the warm hazel eyes no longer shadowed by her hair, at the deeply enticing V of her blouse; and desire seized him by the throat. Had he really declared this woman homely? How could he have been so blind?

The meal passed in surprising quiet. Hunter served each dish with a flourish, pairing each course with the perfect wine. Kiera told him how wonderful everything tasted, but he noticed how careful she was with the wine, never drinking enough to relax her inhibitions. She was likely the most cautious female he’d ever met.

Occasionally, they managed a little small talk, but the sexual tension in the air was like a palpable force, killing each conversation before it got rolling. He thought they each did an admirable job of eating, considering they both were so supremely focused on what would happen
after
dinner.

Finally, it was time for dessert, and Hunter produced the plate of petit-fours with a flourish, determined to break through her restraint.

“I couldn’t eat another bite,” Kiera protested.

Hunter pulled his chair over so that it was only inches from hers. He saw the pulse leap in her throat as he leaned into her space and looked into her eyes. “Are you sure?” he murmured, giving her his most seductive smile.

Without looking, he reached for the plate and picked up one of the little pastries. It was square, iced with chocolate and adorned with a single raspberry. He raised the petit-four to his mouth, his eyes never leaving Kiera’s, then slowly bit it in half. Kiera’s lips quivered faintly when he licked a stray dollop of icing from the corner of his mouth. Then, he held the other half of the petit-four to her lips. She hesitated only briefly before opening her mouth. He laid the petit-four directly on her tongue, lingering long enough to feel the faint brush of her lips as she closed her mouth.

Hunter stared at her mouth as she chewed, watched hungrily as her tongue darted out in search of any icing that remained on her lips. When she’d swallowed, he raised his hand between them, displaying the icing that remained on his thumb and index finger. He stuck his thumb in his mouth and slowly sucked the icing off, all the while watching her face as arousal flushed her cheeks. When he put his index finger to her lips, she opened immediately to take it in, her eyes sliding closed as she sucked.

Hunter moaned as he instantly swelled and hardened. Her tongue rasped over his finger long after the last trace of icing had disappeared. He bore it as long as he could, then reluctantly withdrew his finger. Kiera’s lips looked unbearably lush, and he longed to taste them.

He picked another petit-four at random and found himself in possession of a breast-shaped delicacy with a chocolate nipple at its apex. He ran his tongue over the chocolate and watched Kiera’s lips quiver at the sight. He put the petit-four halfway into his mouth, and then leaned forward. Kiera’s brief look of puzzlement faded when he touched the petit-four to her lips. She opened her mouth, and he pressed his lips to hers, biting the pastry neatly in half. She let out a soft moan of pleasure as she savored her half.

Hunter did not rest on his laurels, instead reaching out to unbutton her blouse. Her breath hissed in sharply, but she made no protest.

When her blouse was open to the waist, he picked another petit-four from the plate, using his hands to pull it in two. Kiera watched him with a look of mingled curiosity and desire. He flashed her a wolfish grin as he popped one half into his mouth, then held the rest out to her again, one finger conspicuously resting in the creamy filling. When she took the pastry from his hand, he didn’t let her lips close around his finger. Instead he brushed his finger over the top of one breast, leaving a trail of sweet vanilla cream. Her skin shivered under his finger. His own pulse throbbing, he lowered his head to the top of her breast.

The taste of her skin on his tongue was even more enticing than the cream, and he trailed kisses along the edges of her bra. When he raised his head, he saw that her eyes were closed, head thrown back in pleasure, and a smile curved his own lips. He popped the catch on her bra and thrilled at the audible hitch in her breath. He turned momentarily from the glory of her bare breasts to examine the plate of petit-fours, picking one he knew was filled with raspberry jam.

When he turned back, he saw that Kiera had opened her eyes and was watching him hungrily. He broke the petit-four in half, feeding one half to each of them while staining his fingers with jam. Then he rubbed those fingers over her nipples, urging them to pucker under his caress. She was leaning forward in her chair now, no sign of reluctance or uncertainty in her demeanor, her caution forgotten. When he set about licking the jam off those hardened peaks, she buried her hands in his hair and pressed herself closer, her breaths coming in sweet, short gasps.

The blood drummed in Hunter’s ears as he tasted and suckled and listened to the soft sighs of pleasure. He was unbearably hard, his erection straining uncomfortably against his pants. And he’d only just begun. With a last delicious kiss on each nipple, he pulled away. Kiera reached for him, and he stood and swept her off the chair and into his arms. A startled cry escaped her lips, and she reflexively flung her arms around his neck. He grinned at her, a feral predator’s grin.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I won’t drop you.”

She was silent in his arms as he carried her to his bedroom, where before her arrival he’d put the lights on a dimmer switch. The room was dark and romantic, yet not so dark that he couldn’t feast his eyes when it pleased him. He set Kiera on the bed, leaning over her to capture her lips in a kiss. He drew her into a sitting position and slipped the blouse and bra off her shoulders, dropping the unnecessary garments on the floor beside the bed. Her breasts beckoned to him once more, and he feasted while she arched beneath him, her hands pulling at his shirt in an effort to get at his skin.

Hungry as Hunter was, he released the delectable nipple he’d been sucking, sitting up so he could get his shirt off. The thought of having Kiera’s hands on his bare skin made his fingers shake, and he practically tore the buttons in his haste to get out of the shirt. Kiera laughed devilishly at his too-obvious need. He managed a reproving cluck of his tongue as he finally escaped the shirt.

“I’m going to have to punish you for laughing at me,” he warned, and her eyes widened in mock alarm.

“What did you have in mind?” she asked breathlessly.

In answer, he reached for the waistband of the skirt that clung so enticingly to her curves, finding the zipper and then sliding it down. Kiera lifted her hips so he could pull the skirt off to reveal what lay beneath: a pair of black lace panties that almost sent him over the edge. The primal urge to tear off the remainder of her clothing and bury himself inside her was so strong that he couldn’t resist wrapping his hands in the waistband of her panties, meaning to jerk them down.

Hunter swallowed hard, fighting to control himself. If he was going to seduce her so cold-bloodedly, the least he could do was make sure she thoroughly enjoyed the experience. His own pleasure was of secondary importance at best. Forcing himself to move more slowly, he lay on his side beside her, propping his head on one hand as the other explored. He began with the now-familiar territory of her breasts, teasing each nipple back to hardness, then sliding his fingers slowly down her center. She tensed as he dipped below her navel, but it was a yearning tension, and his hand continued its journey.

When his fingers brushed over the lace of her panties, Kiera’s back arched, and she sucked in a loud, harsh breath. Her thighs parted, and Hunter forgot his intention to move slowly. His hand slid under the panties, stroking the hot, slick flesh in a slow, steady rhythm designed to arouse without satisfying. He would bring her to fruition, but not yet, not until she was begging for mercy, not until he had tasted every inch of her body. He watched with heavy-lidded eyes as she raised her hips, trying to hurry his fingers along. He refused to be rushed.

That refusal lasted only a few heartbeats. The feel of her so hot and wet lit a greedy flame in his groin, and against his conscious desires, his fingers delved deeper, stroked harder. He wanted to feel her body rocked with the spasms of ecstasy, wanted to hear her voice cry out in pleasure, couldn’t bear to wait any longer to give her the gift he still denied himself.

Kiera’s hips rose beneath his hand, and a long, drawn-out moan escaped her as her whole body arched, her hands balled into fists. A smile curved Hunter’s lips as he watched her face, read the pleasure there, realized he’d caused it without the slightest touch of glamour. For the first time in his life, he’d made a woman come just being himself, and he realized with a little shock that before he’d met Kiera, he hadn’t been sure that was possible.