“I hope you’re right about them losing interest in me.” She stood and realized her knees were shaking. Ridiculous, she told herself. She’d just spent a week in the Shadow King’s dungeon. This news was nothing compared to that. “Maybe my father will be able to shed more light on the situation.”
But she wasn’t going to call him. Not just yet. She needed to digest this chunk of information before she bit off any more.
Gabriel stood and went for the small cart in the corner filled to bursting with bottles of clear and amber liquid and short glasses. “I need a drink.”
“It’s not even noon.”
“I still need a drink.” He poured some of the amber liquid into a glass and took a swallow and then refilled it. He turned. “Want some?”
“It’s not even noon,”
she repeated with emphasis.
He grinned. “Aislinn, the Shadow King and all his minions are searching every square inch of Piefferburg for you right now, you just compelled your first soul as a necromancer, and you found out the Phaendir have had their eye on you for years. Still think a social law like no drinking before noon is important?”
Wow. She really hadn’t needed the recap.
She crossed the floor toward him. “You’re right. Give me some of that.”
She took the glass from him and his finger skated over her hand as she did, sending little tremors of need through her body. Bringing the glass to her lips, she took a long swallow. She didn’t drink very often, but the sweet, harsh burn of the alcohol down her throat seemed somehow cleansing. Closing her eyes and grimacing, she took another long swallow of it, draining the glass. Warmth spread from her tongue to her throat to her stomach.
When she opened her eyes it was to find Gabriel staring at her, eyelids at half-mast.
“What are you looking at?”
“You’re so fucking beautiful.”
She gave a short laugh and gazed down into the empty glass. “I’m sure you say that to all the women you’ve tried to seduce.”
He tilted her chin up so she was forced to look at him. “I am trying to seduce you, Aislinn, but I don’t mean you’re beautiful in the ordinary sense. You are beautiful inside and out, upside and down, straight into your soul.”
Oh, he was good. He really sounded like he meant it. She nearly even believed him. In fact, there was a part of her that
needed
to believe him. Just for now anyway.
The look on his face made her mouth go dry. His eyes seemed to hold every single erotic thing he wanted to do to her.
And she wanted him to do every last one of them to her.
She wanted to lose herself in him, let him take her away to a place where none of the rest of this existed. Somewhere far from death and souls and fates she’d never bargained on. Away from the Book of Bindings, the Phaendir, the Shadow King, and the tangled web they wove.
He slipped his hand to the nape of her neck and very gently fisted his hand in her hair. It didn’t hurt, but it did effectively keep her from moving. Then he wove his other arm around her waist, placing his opposite hand possessively on the small of her back.
The empty glass she held slipped from her fingers and thudded onto the carpeted floor.
“Do you remember what you told me you wanted me to do yesterday?” he asked silkily as his mouth descended slowly toward hers. He nipped her lower lip while holding her head in place. Her nipples tightened and her breath caught in her throat. “Remember what you asked me?”
“Yes,” she breathed. “I remember all of it.”
“You asked me to fuck you. Do you still want that?” His warm breath eased over her lips.
She nodded. “Right now, more than anything.” Her voice had a tremor to it. Her body felt tight with need and she knew he would unravel that tightness inch by inch until there was nothing left of her but all-consuming lust and, eventually, only sated relaxation.
He used the grip he had on her head to angle her face to the side. His mouth came down over hers as he pulled her up against him and slipped his hand down the back of her pants. She gasped at the sensation of his fingers sliding along her bare skin. His tongue skated between her lips and branded hers. He tasted of brandy and man.
His hand slid over her rear and between her legs. A groan rolled out of him as he slipped his fingers over her hot sex, feeling how damp she was from just his words and kisses. “You’re so sweet down here, Aislinn. So hot and so irresistibly gorgeous. I touched you while you slept yesterday.” His lips brushed the edge of her chin.
“Yeah?” The word came out breathy and she could barely keep her eyes open. Lust made her feel warm and heavy.
“Yeah.” He pulled her head to the side and she tried not to whimper as he traced the tip of his tongue over her skin. “I wanted to see if I could make you come in your sleep. I would’ve, too, if you hadn’t needed your rest to heal.”
She shivered under the power of his words and his touch, shuddered in pleasure that he would have mastery enough to make her come while she slept. She had no doubt he could do it.
His teeth grazed a sensitive part of her neck, just under her earlobe, and her fingers tightened on his shoulders where she gripped him. He pulled her head back, exposing the long column of her throat, and nibbled his way from her earlobe to her collarbone.
Her breath came faster now and her knees were growing weak. Her body had primed itself for him in every way possible—her nipples going tight and hard and her sex becoming slick. Between her legs, he stroked her again, dragging his fingers over her heated flesh and slowly and carefully driving her insane.
He drew her back toward the couch, pulling her shirt over her head and throwing it to the floor. She wore no bra and his gaze skated over her bare breasts with heated interest. She gave him her own interested perusal, over his tights abs, the wide, muscular expanse of his chest, and his broad shoulders. Then she reached out and undid the button of his pants, wanting to once again see his beautiful long, wide cock. Maybe this time she’d even get to touch it.
His hand covered hers and gently pulled it away. “All in good time. It’s my turn first.” Then he pushed her back down onto the couch. Off came her pants and he knelt between her spread legs, his gaze touching her bared sex as surely as his hand had done only a moment before.
“Beautiful,” he murmured. Then he dipped his head and tasted her.
Her back arched as his hot mouth closed over her, tongue dragging over her folds. Eyes closed, he made a sound of ecstasy as he explored her. His tongue found her pouting clit and bathed it. He could probably feel it grow against his tongue as she became almost unbearably excited.
She squirmed under his mouth, watching his dark head move between her thighs. It was almost too much. She almost wanted to get away from the intensity of it. Her breath hitched and her nipples went hard as diamonds from the lust cruising through her veins. He didn’t let her. With a small sound in his throat, he clamped his hands down on her inner thighs, holding her down and spread to him. His tongue aggressively lapped at her clit, practically forcing her to come.
Her body tensed and then exploded. This was no slow, torturous buildup and retreat, buildup and retreat. This time he brought her to climax fast and hard with his mouth. It wasn’t a wave this time, it was a freight train. Her spine arched and she cried out, her body shuddering. Gabriel had the ability to completely override her brain with his touch. It was wonderful and frightening at the same time. All she could do was hold on and ride the power of it.
Before the ripples of pleasure completely ebbed, he pulled her to the thick carpet on the floor, pushed her to lie on her stomach. Bracing himself with a hand on the floor to either side of her waist, he half covered her back.
She heard the blessed sound of a zipper and the rustle of his jeans being pulled down enough for him to get his cock out. Sliding a hand beneath her pelvis, he yanked her hips up, fitting her against his midsection where she could feel the jut of his cock against her aching sex. The smooth head of his shaft slipped just into her entrance and she whimpered, going up on her hands and knees and pushing back against him, desperate for more of him.
He gave it to her. Thrusting his hips, he pushed inside her to the root of him. She was so wet from the climax he’d given her that he slid deep inside without any pain, despite his large size. Her back arched at the sensation of him filling her, stretching her muscles and overwhelming her.
He stayed that way for a moment, sunk deep into the heart of her, and groaned. He murmured her name, told her how she felt around his cock—hot, silky, and perfect. Then he began to move and she couldn’t hear anything else he said. Her world became Gabriel thrusting inside her.
There was something animalistic and primal about the way he took her and it pushed every button she had. He pushed inside her to the hilt, withdrew and plunged within again, pulling a raw sound from her throat. Over and over. Harder and faster.
She braced her hands flat on the floor and wished for something to grip. Instead she curled her fingers into the thick carpeting. He drew his hand around to her front, between her thighs, and stroked her clit. Softly, he pushed it past that sensitive point of postclimax and straight back to swollen, aching need.
This was not a gentle lovemaking. He took from her, demanded of her, pushed her.
His body rocked against hers, completely dominating her. He shifted his angle and the head of his cock rubbed her G-spot on every inward thrust. She came again, this time more powerfully. Racking spasms of pleasure poured through her. Her muscles rippled and pulsed around his shaft and her body went limp. She collapsed to her stomach on the carpet and he came with her, still thrusting inside her. Behind her he groaned her name and she felt his cock jump.
He stilled, then rolled to the side, into the curve of her body. “I’m sorry,” he breathed into her hair.
She forced her eyes open and her breathing to calm a bit. Gentle waves of residual orgasm still flirted with her body and made her sex tingle and pulse. “For what?”
“I had no control. I just needed you. I needed to fuck you. It was fast and hard, not gentle the way I intended.”
She gave a low, throaty laugh of total sexual lethargy. “I think I like fast and hard.”
“Good to know,” he murmured, brushing her hair to the side and kissing her earlobe. He dipped his hand to her breast and toyed with her nipple, brushing it back and forth until it went hard and she shivered. “Very good to know, in fact.”
“So, do you use magick when you make love or is the . . . goodness . . . just your innate incubusness?”
He gave a deep laugh and drew his hand down between her legs, where he stroked her gently and made her sigh. “Neither. My ‘goodness’ comes from age and experience, from learning a woman’s body and paying attention to where she likes to be touched, just how hard and just how fast.” His voice was a low silken rasp against her earlobe and his hand was weaving magick on her body no matter what he might say.
“Oh,” she managed, even though her tongue had gone dry.
“The fact that I’m incubus registers with women, though; you’ve seen that. Women are naturally drawn to me. Well, most all of them. You were a notable exception.”
“And the magick?”
“Mostly it’s a myth. I can’t sexually enslave anyone, Aislinn. I can only mildly addict them when I try, which I never do. It makes them needy and clingy. You don’t have to fear me.”
She realized with a jolt that she didn’t. Never had. She had believed the stories of death-by-sex to be true and she’d never once even thought of the possibility he might use it on her.
Simply, she’d trusted him not to do it.
His fingers still played over her sex. She rested her head back against him and sighed. “What are you doing to me?”
He nuzzled her earlobe. “Going for number three.”
She had no complaints.
After he’d brought her to a third orgasm, this one softer and easier than the others, there in his arms on the floor, she stared up at the ceiling and marveled at her body and at Gabriel. She’d had two climaxes while making love before, but never three, and she still felt ripe, lush, and aroused—ready for more. Gabriel could do amazing things to a woman’s body and she suspected that—if she wasn’t careful—he might be able to do amazing things to her heart as well.
It was dumb even to be thinking about that, since their futures looked bleak. Yet, she couldn’t help but warn herself not to fall in too deep with Gabriel, a man who wasn’t meant for just one woman. A man who’d lied to her for the first week she’d known him, who had deliberately tried to lure her from her home under false pretenses. Even though he’d saved her life in the aftermath, it didn’t change the events of that first week. She needed to protect herself.
If they survived what was to come—and she had every intention of doing just that—and they got past all of this, if they went back to their lives, well, then Gabriel would surely break her heart.
The solution was simple, yet so very hard—she had to avoid giving her love to him. If she did, she was doomed.
EIGHTEEN
THE
image of Aislinn’s father wavered in front of them for a moment and then solidified. The cord that attached him to the Netherworld shimmered in a riot of rainbow colors. Souls, as near as Gabriel could determine, were the basic, primal energy of the fae they had been while inhabiting a physical body. He didn’t believe they existed in this form in the Netherworld. Gabriel believed they took the form of raw energy, in a sort of collective mass, awaiting rebirth.
Gabriel, like most fae, believed that life was a continuous circle. Without beginning and without end. All things died. All things passed away, but that didn’t mean they passed out of being. All that passed away into the Netherworld eventually returned when its season came. Albeit in a new form.