Secret Worlds (22 page)

“You’re one to talk.”

“That’s different,” he said. “I’m different. My life doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me,” I said, surprised to feel tears burning behind my eyes. “Do you really need me to spell this out for you?” I asked. When he didn’t answer, I knew he did. Damn him. “I don’t want to leave you, you jackass. I will
not
leave you here to fight this thing alone. And if you pull me out of this house, I’ll come marching back.” Reaching him, I stuck my finger into his chest. “You’re not in this alone, Abram, no matter how much you want to be. So suck it up, big boy. I’m here to stay.”

“You’re unbelievable,” he answered, but his tone said he was just as impressed as he was concerned.

“As touching as all of this is, it’s unnecessary.” Satina’s voice, stronger than it had been before, echoed from the background.

Abram whipped around. “What are you talking about?”

“I can shield us, all of us,” she answered. “Wasn’t that the whole point of enlisting my help? The spell is complicated, and I’ll need a bit more of your blood and one of my hands to be unshackled. But I can scramble the draw that’s leading the other monster here. It will buy us some time. Though, if I’m being honest, I wouldn’t mind seeing him. His form is a trademark of mine, and I’d like to see what changes he’s made to it.”

Her eyes flickered over to me. “If you would be so kind.”

I marched over and extended my hand. Running a dead, cold palm across mine, she soaked what blood remained on my skin. Like it did with Abram, the blood glowed and turned a bright golden color. Though, unlike with Abram, it seemed to invigorate Satina, lighting her up.

“And my hand,” the Conduit said, rattling the shackles on one side.

“Just one?” I asked, half-skeptical and half-concerned. If she was really going to help us, had the roles reversed? Were
we
the bad guys now, keeping her chained up for no reason? Or was this a ploy of hers to make me wonder just that?
I would rather be a fool than an asshole, though. “What if there’s danger? Don’t you want to be able to run?”

“Supplicant, I have no interest in this body or in the life that it would tether me to. I’ve moved on from this world. Being brought back to it was an unwelcome intrusion.” She looked over to Abram. “One hand will be sufficient.”

He moved toward her. With one quick, jarring motion, Abram ripped the chain binding Satina’s hand from the wall.

“There,” he said as dust and plywood splinters flew in the air.

“One more thing,” Satina added.

“What’s that?” Abram asked warily.

“This spell takes concentration. I’ll need privacy. I’m sure the two of you can find some way to keep yourselves … occupied.”

Abram nodded and led me toward the door. As we descended the staircase, I saw the sun had set. It was dark outside, which meant Abram should have turned by now.

“I don’t get it,” I said as we stepped into the foyer. “Why aren’t you the beast? The sun has already set.”

“That’s not how it works, Charisse.” He placed his hand on my hip and guided me into the living room. “The curse is tied to the moon, but I can control it until midnight. That’s when the magic is the strongest. After dark, though, it becomes increasingly difficult to maintain control. The monster begins to creep in, and it takes huge amounts of willpower to keep it at bay.” He ran a hand through his hair. “It also becomes harder to control my other … impulses.”

A spark lit in my chest and spread to the rest of my body. “You want to eat me or something?” I chuckled nervously.

“Among other things,” he muttered.

It was then that I noticed the sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead. He was fighting against something, and the small voice in my head told me he would win.

It also said that I didn’t want him to.

“Charisse.” Abram reached out to take my hand. “I believe I promised I would make you pay for what you did earlier, and I can think of no better time to handle your misgivings than the present. I know how much you love a man of his word.”

I grinned, remembering how he jumped at that playful smack on his rear. “Why, Abram, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I think you do,” he said. “But I don’t think you realize how disrespectful your actions were.”

He seemed actually upset now. Was it really that big of a deal?

“It was just a smack on your butt,” I said. “It was meant to be playful.”

“In my time, it would be considered completely unacceptable.”

I motioned around us. “In case you haven’t noticed, this isn’t ‘your time’ anymore.”

He stepped in closer. “But it is my house.”

I bit my lip, and his hand slid up to caress a tendril of my hair. “How would you like it if I had done that to you?” he asked. “You would probably be ranting at me this very second about how degrading it is for a man to do that to a woman.”

There was no denying the red hot blush that fired up in my cheeks. “Some people enjoy that kind of thing.”

His eyebrows rose. “Well, I don’t.” He spun me around and pulled my body against his, his pelvis pressed against my back side. His hands held my arms crossed against my body, pinning my wrists at my hips. “Perhaps
you
are one of those people, though.”

“I don’t really know much about that whole BDSM thing, to be honest,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. But my heart was thundering in my chest, and there was no way he didn’t sense that.

“I am not familiar with that. Is it new age?”

I tried not to laugh. “To you, maybe.”

“I’m not laughing, Charisse,” he said sternly. It was hot the way he said it, though I couldn’t be sure if that was what he was going for. I wished I could see his expression, get a better read on him. “It wasn’t long ago that it was considered acceptable for a man to spank his woman for her misdeeds.”

My inner modern-day woman bristled. “But not for a woman to spank her man?” I countered. “You don’t think that’s biased?”

“On the one hand, what’s fair is fair. You got a good swat at me.” He breathed against my scalp, and his hips shifted behind mine, shooting a pleasurable tingle between my thighs. “On the other hand, I still think I ought to teach you a lesson.”

Now there was some playfulness in his voice; meanwhile, I was appalled by the way my body was reacting to this conversation.

“Do you know what that tells me, Charisse?”

I shook my head.

“Answer me.”

“No,” I whispered.

“It tells me I ought to spank you with both my hands.” He released me and turned me back to face him. “But I’m not going to.”

“You’re not?” I asked, surprised by his words as well as my disappointment.

“No,” he said, sliding his hand down my arm. “You taught me something important today.”

“I did?”

He nodded, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “You taught me the importance of apologizing. Now it’s your turn. You are to show me how sorry you are.”

“I’m—uh—what?”

He kissed me hard on the mouth, backing me up against the wall and pressing his body against mine. Then he pulled back. My body shot into overdrive, and my hands slid over his hard chest and chiseled biceps. There was just so … much of him.

“Show me, Charisse.”

My entire body trembled. “Show you how?”

Raising his eyebrows, he leaned back against the arm of the couch beside us. “Use your imagination.”

I swallowed around the lump forming in my throat and stepped closer to him. I’d never been ordered around like this in the bedroom … or living room … before. I was turned on and shutting down all at once.

I ran my fingertips along his collarbone and then down the length of his arm, trying to work up the courage to do something—or rather, the one thing I knew drove most men crazy.

His eyes blazed, and my heart thudded wildly. But he just stood there, stone still and hard as a rock … in more ways than one. Gosh, I felt like I virgin all over again. Like some prude idiot. My hand finally found the way to his erection, gliding over it through his rough jeans. His body stiffened, and his jaw flexed. He wanted me, I knew that much.

I fumbled with his belt, unbuckled his pants, and carefully undid his zipper before tugging on his pants just a little. They hugged his thighs, and as I pulled the jeans lower, his erection sprung out. I caressed it with my fingertips, careful not to upset anything with my perfectly manicured fingernails. Then I slipped both my hands up under his shirt to push it off over his head.

Suddenly I felt the weight of all his experience against my own. It wasn’t that I was at all inexperienced, but when we’d had sex the first time, I hadn’t realized that he literally had centuries of conquests before me. Now here I was, trying to—I don’t know—impress him? Show him, somehow, that I was sorry I smacked that fine ass of his? Because, well, that wasn’t true at all. I would do it again in a heartbeat.

His hand slid to my shoulder, and his thumb caressed the side of my neck as I kissed his chest. Slowly I trailed my kisses down his stomach, across his waist, inside his thighs. His erection pulsed, and a small burst of triumph coursed through me. I was driving him as crazy as he drove me.

I stole a glance at him, and immediately regretted it. Looking up at him from my knees, with his intense gaze bearing down on me, was nothing short of intimidating. He was watching my every move.

I quickly averted my attention to focus on the task at hand. Moving my kisses to his cock, I covered the length first in soft rubs of my lips, then twirled my tongue around the head before taking him into my mouth. I’d forgotten how large he was—and not just his body.
Everywhere
. It made this sexual offering a little … difficult.

My fingernails scraped down the tops of his thighs as I worked him with my mouth, and he responded instantly with a low moan. His skillful fingers tangled in my hair, encouraging me to continue. Finally I felt like he was really getting into it, his hips giving small thrusts to get more from me, but then he nudged me away.

“Enough,” he said breathlessly. He pulled me to my feet. “God, you’re amazing.”

“I don’t think God wants anything to do with what we’re up to right now,” I said cheekily.

He grinned, his hands possessing me at the hips. “You’re probably right.”

“So you forgive me?” I asked. This little ‘game’ was proving to be the perfect escape from everything that lay ahead, and I was ready to submerge myself into every moment of it.

“Not yet,” he said, starting to slowly strip me of my own clothes. “I don’t think you’re actually feeling very sorry for what you did.”

Guilty as charged. Sorry was not the word I would use to describe how I felt right now at all.

“You know, Charisse, you are a powerful woman. And I don’t just mean because of your Supplicant blood.” My shirt and bra were already on the floor by this point, and now my pants joined them. “It’s who you are. It’s in your nature.”

“I suppose then you’ve met your match.”

He tilted his head to the side, his expression thoughtful. “Maybe.”

I did not like that word one bit. Not in response to what I just said. I started to pull back, but Abram held me firm.

“It wouldn’t be a bad thing for you to surrender sometimes. To let someone else make decisions. It’s not a weakness to let someone else take control of you for a little bit now and then.”

“Someone?” I asked. “Or you?”

He spun me around again, this time bending me over the arm of the couch and tugging down my underwear. My whole body went hot. His hands slid lower on my hips, the heels of his palms grazing my ass.

“You’re right. Just me. You want all of me, Charisse?”

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. He did not just ask me that!

“Heaven help us, you have a dirty mind, Miss Bellamy,” he said, slipping into his old name for me like it had become a kinky afterthought. He pressed closer to me, his cock nudging against my intimate folds. “I mean, you want me, body, mind, soul. Correct?”

“Oh,” I said breathlessly. “I think you know that already.”

“I do,” he said. “And that’s why you should understand that I want you in the same way. I want you to belong to me.”

The head of his cock pressed into me, but he did not push any farther. He trailed a finger down my spine, stopping just below the small of my back to trace small circles as he throbbed inside of me. Some part of me was telling me I had to argue with his choice of words—“belong to me”—but the other part of me just wanted him to fuck me and tell me I’m pretty.

My arousal was making it hard to think, and my body squirmed. I pressed my hips back, wanting to take more of him, overwhelmed by how impossibly hard her was, but he firmed his grip to hold me still.

“Not yet, Charisse.” He paused, and the heat radiating off of him alone was enough to set me on fire.

I took a slow, deep breath. I wasn’t sure if he was doing this to drive me crazy or to control his own impulses, but I think he was accomplishing both either way.

“You’re your own woman,” he said, sliding in a smidge deeper, stretching me and making me feel empty all at once. “So you do realize it would still be your decision, even if your choice was to be my woman? To surrender every now and then? It may be more empowering than you think.”

I could fight it all I wanted, but there could be only one authority in this relationship, and Abram claimed that role long ago, despite any resistance on my end. And deep down, I liked it that way.

“You already have me, Abram,” I whispered.

With that, he leaned over me, pressing his lips against my ear. “I know.”

I gasped at the feeling of fullness as his erection pushed the rest of the way inside of me. Abram was larger than life, in more ways than one. And in that moment, I felt more full than I ever had before. My heart, my body. My undeniable love for him. The lusting ache that begged for release. This new freedom to stop worrying about being a Modern Day Woman and just let this man ravish me. He was right. It was much more empowering than being the boss of our relationship.

That is, until I was about to climax, and Abram pulled away.