Temptation at Twilight: Lords of Pleasure (25 page)

“I need you.”

Her lips curved. “Then have me.”

As simple—and dangerous—as that. The beast reared its head, unable to refuse the invitation.

With a growl, he grabbed the soft fabric of her T-shirt with both hands and ripped the material. The swell of her breasts heaved as she looked up at him with complete love and trust. And desire.

With the flick of a wrist, he made short work of her lacy bra, and she spilled free. He had her pinned, at his mercy, and the demon inside him laughed at her naiveté.

“Lift your hips.” He unzipped her shorts and slid them off, then removed her panties. “Now spread your legs for me.”

She lay totally exposed before him. His to do with whatever he wished. His penis throbbed in anticipation, the rabid hunger to be joined with her, gorging on her life’s blood, nearly blinding him.

“You won’t let anything happen to me,” she vowed, her belief absolute. “I love you, Soren. My mate, my love.”

Soren fought the blackness washing through his soul as the beast claimed him again. Her words were lost in a swirl of chaotic sensation. His need.

“I see we’ve come at just the right moment. Arron, I told you to keep them separated, did I not?” she asked in a tone that promised retribution. “I’ll deal with you later.”

Leila strolled into the room, smiling cruelly, Arron beside her. She was in human form again, Soren noted. Her black silk robe hung open, leaving nothing to the imagination, the curious vial dangling on the strap between her breasts. Arron wore his white robe in the same fashion, his expression carefully blank.

“You! What do you want from me?”

The she-demon laughed, her pointed little incisors flashing. “It’s time for the moment we’ve all been waiting for. Arron, take him. I’ll see to our sweet little darling. Shall we?”

The beast within him stretched its claws like a cat in anticipation. Ready to assuage this tearing agony in his gut, the fire between his legs.

Soren slid naked from the bed, jerking as Arron gripped his arm. He glanced at Harley, taking in her state of undress, her vulnerability. Her green eyes wide with fear. Whatever was about to happen, the last shred of humanness in his soul wished she didn’t have to suffer for it.

He let himself be led from the room on trembling legs. The chamber door shut behind them with a heavy, ominous thud as they moved down the darkened corridor.

The final battle was about to begin.

H
arley made a concentrated effort to keep her chin up and appear defiant as Leila led them through a maze of corridors. Soren walked beside Arron, his face devoid of emotion, but she could feel the turmoil radiating from him like heat. His clenched jaw, the tense set of his shoulders betrayed him.

Their trek ended in one of the mansion’s large rooms, as richly appointed as the bedroom she and Soren had been confined in. A dozen or more candles provided the only light that cut through the shadows. Instead of a bed, a pile of fat throw pillows sat on the rug, surrounded by four ornate sofas arranged in a rectangle, as if for an audience.

A golden bar hung suspended horizontally, with a length of chain at each end attached to the rafters. It had been lowered to just a few feet above the pillows. An earthen jar sat on the rug nearby. An image of what this room’s purpose might be started to emerge, and Harley didn’t like the picture one bit.

Arron guided Soren to the center of the pillows, next to the gold bar. “Kneel,” he instructed, his voice giving away neither pleasure nor sympathy. Glaring at him, Soren did as he was told. “Now raise your arms.”

He did, and Arron bound his wrists to the bar overhead with gold chains. The position rendered Soren completely vulnerable to Leila’s wishes. The rage in his dark eyes made Harley retreat a couple of steps. Leila was merely amused.

“I see you haven’t lost your fight. Believe me, darling, it will do you no good. Arron, let us begin my mate’s anointing.”

“Fuck you,” Soren hissed. “I’m not your mate, for the last damned time!”

Leila shrugged. “In your old life, that was true. But you don’t have that option anymore. You’re about to become something much more powerful than you’ve ever imagined. You’ll embrace it, and we’ll rule the Coalition together.” She turned to Harley. “Lie back and enjoy the show, princess. Don’t even think of trying to escape. If you do, your former lover receives the punishment for your actions.”

“Damn you to Hades,” Harley spat.

“Such a disappointing threat. Next time, try an original one that actually means something to me.”

Fuming, near tears of frustration, Harley sat down. The pair moved to Soren, and he lifted his head in proud insolence as Arron retrieved the jar and tilted it over his chest. Rivulets of oil streamed down his skin, the taut plane of his flat stomach, and lower. Their hands began to smooth it all over his body, slicking every contour and crevice until the ripples of his muscles shone.

Soren stared straight ahead, quivering as their caresses strayed between his legs, stroking his shaft. He swallowed hard, shaking his head in denial as he swelled and filled, his cock standing as erect as an exclamation point.

“No,”
he groaned.

Harley’s heart ached to see him being used this way, forced into an encounter he wouldn’t have chosen for himself. The Fontaine men oozed sexuality, and Soren was no exception. He could no more stop his reaction than he could stop breathing. When Leila threw a smug smile over her shoulder, Harley longed to rip her fucking head from her neck.

Their robes slid away and they sandwiched him, Leila’s breasts grazing his chest as she twined a hand into his thick hair and kissed him, the other hand stroking his cock. He couldn’t pull away with Arron at his back, caressing his shoulder and neck. “No . . . don’t.” Closing his eyes, he moaned, helpless against the relentless assault.

They pleasured him, lowering his defenses to move in for the final kill. Stroking and licking every inch of him until his eyes glazed over with lust he couldn’t deny any longer. His arms shook in his bonds and his breathing came fast and shallow. Harley’s throat burned with tears.

His voice, husky with desire, cut her to the bone. “Ohhh . . . oh, gods, yes . . .”

Lips turned up in a malicious smile, Leila removed her necklace and uncapped the vial. “Drink, Soren. Embrace your destiny.”

“N-no. I can’t.”

“You must. Give yourself to the darkness, my love. It is time.”

Arron moved behind Soren, pulling him against his chest and laying Soren’s head back to rest on his shoulder.

Harley’s heart knocked against her ribs as Leila brought the vial to Soren’s lips and tilted it. With a groan, Soren drank all the blood inside, and for several seconds, nothing happened. He panted, leaning against Arron’s chest, and seemed about to speak when his entire body seized as though zapped with a million volts of electricity. He bucked wildly in his restraints, head thrown back. Agonized screams tore from his throat again and again.

Tears streaming down her face. Hands clasped over her ears, Harley watched in horror. It was taking all of Arron’s strength to prevent Soren from hurting himself. Both men’s muscles bunched from the strain.

Blue lightning shot from Soren’s fingertips, crackled through the air above their heads. The walls shook with the thunderous force of his pain and rage. Harley sobbed, positive that he would simply vaporize from the immense pressure.

Soren’s body remained rigid until his screams subsided into hoarse moans. The eerie lightning receded, and Harley fought down a bubble of hysteria. His head fell forward, chin resting on his chest, and he sagged in the bonds.

“Please,” he rasped.

Leila moved to him again, smoothing a graceful hand over his chest. “What, darling?”

Slowly, he shook his head from side to side, as though trying to focus his thoughts. “I need you. The hunger. It’s killing me . . . hurts so bad . . .”

“Tell your queen what you desire.” Her fingers kneaded his balls, eliciting a helpless groan.

“I have to drink. I’m so thirsty!”

“Beg.”

“Please, I’m begging you!”

Leila smiled, her black eyes gleaming. “You admit that you belong to me? You surrender your body and soul to my will?”

His breath caught. “Yes.”

Longing to cut out her black heart for touching Soren, Harley opened her mouth to protest. Arron shot her a warning glance, and she snapped it shut.

“Say it, Soren!”

Soren raised his head, and Harley stifled a cry. His eyes no longer held even the faintest hint of amber. The light of his soul had faded completely. Those black eyes glittered with malice. Evil.

“My body and soul are yours, Leila. Take them both and we’ll rule the Coalition together.”

She rubbed her breasts against him. “Very good, my mate. But Prince Valafar is immortal. How will you destroy him?”

“I don’t know, but there’s a way to find out.”

“Which is?” she demanded.

“If I drink his blood, all of his knowledge will be mine, including how he can be destroyed. But he has to be seriously weakened for anyone to get that close to him.” He hesitated. “Please, I need—”

Leila’s face darkened in fury at yet another obstacle in her quest. “We’ll just have to bide our time until we find a way to bring him under control. Arron, release our fledgling prince.”

Arron freed him and he fell to his back, breathing hard. Leila lay down beside him, then slowly stretched herself across his chest, looking down at him with naked desire before lowering her lips to his. This time, his mouth began to move with hers.

In that instant, Harley wanted to die. Nothing—not even the most hideous physical death—could’ve been as cruel as watching the man she loved lying naked with Leila. Willing. She didn’t notice that Arron had come to sit beside her. He took her hand and gave it an almost imperceptible squeeze.

“She owns his soul, but not his heart, little dove,” he whispered in her ear. “He resists her still.”

“Not all of him is getting the message,” she sniffed, wiping at the tears that wouldn’t cease.

“Do not worry. Your lover will take nothing more from her than blood to survive. Because his senses are overwhelmed, he would react physically to anyone right now, even a troll. He can’t resist our touch. He’s locked in battle with the evil that has taken him.”

Coldness enveloped her, and she searched Arron’s lovely green eyes. “What if
she
realizes it?”

He glanced at Leila, who was kissing Soren as though trying to suck the air from his lungs. Careful to keep his voice low, he leaned closer. “She is blind to all except her obsession to destroy Valafar. That’s why she doesn’t hear us speaking to each other.”

The awful pain in Harley’s chest eased a bit. “Let’s hope it stays that way.”

Soren rolled, pinning Leila underneath him, his swollen cock pressed against the whiteness of her flat belly. Burying his fingers in her black hair, he tilted her head back and grazed her neck with his sharp eyeteeth. Then he sank his fangs deep into her throat. She screamed her pleasure, arching against him. He rode the pleasure, taking, taking.

To Harley, the act seemed as intimate as making love.
He’s mine. I should be the one easing his pain, not his murderer!
Watching them cleaved her in two. Blindly, she turned and buried her face in Arron’s shoulder. His arms went around her and he gathered her close.

“Shh, I know. Remember, the act means nothing but survival to him. There is no true passion between them. With you, it would be different. In your heart, you know this.”

She supposed so, but she let Arron continue to hold her until Soren rolled away from Leila and lay on his back. Harley peeked over Arron’s shoulder. His eyes were closed. The lines of agony around his mouth had softened, but his arousal had not. Harley felt a hot little spurt of satisfaction that the bitch hadn’t managed to coax his seed from him.

Leila stood and moved away from Soren, belting her robe just as a sharp rap on the heavy chamber door shattered the quiet. Leila stalked to the door, throwing it wide. “Trisha? What in great, blazing Hades do you want?” she yelled in the Chosen’s face.

“I—There’s a big m-man in the foyer. One of your new demons—”

Leila grabbed the girl’s arms, enraged. “And you interrupted to tell me this, you little idiot? You knew I didn’t want to be disturbed, damn you! What does he want?”

The young woman raised her elfin face to look directly at Leila. “He b-brought with him another demon, b-bound in chains of gold.”

“The devil you say,” Leila whispered. “Who the hell is it?”

“The demon is called Zenon . . . and he says the bound one is Prince Valafar.”

 

 

Soren sat up on his elbows, watching with interest as Leila all but ran from the chamber, Arron on her heels. The door slammed and locked in Arron’s wake, and Soren nearly smiled. Puny stone and wood couldn’t hold him now. New, malevolent strength surged through his veins, and he longed to test it.