When Darkness Ends (14 page)

Losing herself in the pleasure of Cyn's touch was far preferable to worrying about shunnings, and ex-fiancés, and crazed magic-users.

Still, a tiny voice in the back of her head whispered that indulging her seemingly endless hunger for this vampire wasn't without risk.

Unlike Chatri males, Cyn didn't make her feel as if she were a mindless object he needed to control. Just the opposite. When she was in his arms she had the unshakable sense she was . . . cherished.

A sensation that was as dangerous as Magnus's indifference.

No.
More
dangerous.

Her fiancé might have considered himself her master, but he'd never had the ability to truly touch her. Not on an emotional level.

But Cyn . . . he was inching perilously close to stealing her heart.

“We can't,” she breathed.

He nibbled along the line of her collarbone. “Of course we can.”

Her eyes slid closed, swiftly forgetting why this was a bad idea.

“Cyn.”

His thumb circled the tight nub of her nipple. “Aye, princess?”

“We should be searching for the magic-user.”

“We will,” he assured her. “Later.”

Clearly determined to divert her, he captured her lips, his tongue urging hers to part and allow him entry.

She quivered, briefly yielding to the desire pounding through her before she turned her head just enough to break the soul-melting kiss.

“Wait.”

“No more waiting.” Denied her lips, Cyn allowed his mouth to explore the line of her jaw to discover the sensitive hollow behind her ear. “I've hungered for you since the minute I caught sight of you.”

The air was squeezed from Fallon's lungs, her head tilting back to allow greater access to his talented lips.

“You thought I was trying to trap your friend,” she reminded him.

“That didn't keep me from wanting you.” He stroked a path of searing kisses down the curve of her neck, lingering on the frantic pulse that beat at the base of her throat. “Just as you wanted me.”

“You think you're so irresistible?”

“I think that the heat between us is combustible.” He lightly nipped her shoulder, careful not to break her skin with his fang. “Admit it.” His tongue traced a path toward the curve of her breast. “You were fascinated by me.”

A whimper was wrenched from her throat as his lips closed over her tender nipple.

Her heart stopped beating as he caught the tip of her nipple between his teeth. “What makes you think I noticed you at all?”

“I know when a woman wants to see me naked.” He lifted his head, watching her expressive face as he reached for her hand and pressed it against his arousal. “When she wants to touch me like this.”

“Really?”

Unable to deny temptation, she wrapped her fingers around his cock, exploring down to the heavy testicles before slowly skimming back up to the broad tip.

“Aye.” He shuddered, his palm sliding over the curve of her waist until his fingers were squeezing the soft flesh of her backside in a promise of pleasure to come.

Her mind went momentarily blank. What was she going to say?

Oh yes.

She was trying to convince him that he wasn't nearly so irresistible as he believed.

“I'd never seen a vampire in the flesh. Of course I was staring.”

“Admit it.” Without warning he was rolling onto his back, arranging her so she was lodged on top of him. Pleasure jolted through her as her already damp flesh was pressed to his thick cock. “You didn't have to stay with me after you pulled me from the throne room.”

“Someone had to make sure you didn't go berserker and destroy our home,” she moaned.

“Not someone . . . you.” His hands moved to cup her breasts, his eyes darkened with a stark hunger. “There was no way in hell you were going to allow any other female near me.”

“You're so vain.” Her accusation ended on a gasp as he rolled her tender nipple between his thumb and finger.

“Why can't you admit that you want me?” His voice was thick with need.

“Because.”

“Tell me.”

She spread her hands on his chest, slowly lowering down until he could press his mouth to the juncture between her neck and shoulder. She shuddered, rubbing against his erection as his fangs replaced his lips, pressing just hard enough to send a thrill of anticipation through her.

He grasped her hips, sliding her over his rock-hard arousal in a movement that was meant to inflame her passion.

As if she needed any more inflaming. She was already about to combust.

“Tell me, Fallon.”

“You frighten me.”

He froze, his expression oddly vulnerable.

“You're scared of me?”

“Not you.” Abruptly realizing she'd hurt him with her thoughtless words, she brushed her lips over his mouth. “The way you make me feel.”

A fierce relief flared through his eyes before he lifted his head so his lips could travel over the curve of her breast, at last latching on to her aching nipple.

She sucked in a sharp breath, a ruthless pleasure thundering through her.

“Oh . . . Cyn.”

“Passion is nothing to fear,” he muttered.

Nothing to fear? Perhaps not for him. He'd made seduction an art form that he practiced on a routine basis. She wasn't a laughably naïve princess who was ripe to tumble in love with the first man who aroused her desire.

Not that she was about to confess the truth.

At least not the full truth.

“It's not just passion. You make me . . .” She lost track of her words as she studied his starkly chiseled face. Dear heaven, he was just so beautiful.

Not pretty. Not like Magnus. He was too male for that. But there was a compelling savagery to his features that reminded her of the lethal beauty of a wild animal.

Predator.

His lips twitched as if he suspected he'd managed to disrupt her thoughts. “You were saying?”

An instant stab of annoyance jerked her out of her brief reverie.

“You make me psychotic,” she said. It wasn't a lie. “One minute I'm furious with you.”

“And the next?” he prompted.

“I want to rip off your clothes,” she bluntly admitted. “Until I met you I never lost my temper.”

“Boring.” He urged her back down so his mouth could return to its torment of her nipple. “I like when you forget to be the perfect princess.”

She shuddered, her fingers somehow finding their way into the thick satin of his hair.

“It's not boring. It's peaceful.”

As if sensing her struggle against the demands of her body, Cyn tilted back his head to study Fallon with a gaze that sent tiny tremors down her spine.

“Is that what you want? Peace?”

She bit her lip.

Of course it wasn't. She'd endured enough peace to last an eternity.

And if she was brutally honest with herself, she would admit that the ferocious tangle of emotions that catapulted her from one extreme to another was exactly what she'd always wanted.

Oh, she hadn't hoped for a threat to the world. Or the potential shunning.

But she was eager to experience the thrill of never knowing what was going to happen from one minute to the next. To opening herself up to a life that wasn't neatly planned and had the potential to break her heart.

She wasn't going to be a coward.

“No, I don't want peace.”

He reached up to frame her face in his hands, tugging her down to kiss her with an urgency that spoke of need and yearning and . . . possession.

“What do you want?”

Fallon sighed. She didn't know what the future held with this vampire, but she would be a fool not to savor every moment he remained with her.

Her hands smoothed over the sculpted muscles of his chest. His skin was a cool, silken temptation. Yum. She gave a small moan of need, allowing her lips to glide over his face and down the strong column of his throat.

She shivered as she sucked in a deep breath of his erotic male scent.

Storm clouds and lightning.

“I love how you smell,” she whispered as she continued her provoking caresses.

“I'm supposed to be seducing you,” he growled, his hands clutching her hips as he sought to regain command.

Bossy.

“You seduced me last time,” she whispered, moving steadily lower. “It's my turn.”

“I wasn't finished.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

He muttered a curse as she reached the taut muscles of his lower stomach. “Hell, no.”

She gave a soft laugh, oddly pleased by his violent reaction to her touch. Feminine power. Who knew it could be so intoxicating?

Deliberately rubbing her body back up the length of his, she shivered at the sensation of their naked skin rubbing together.

“Tell me how to please you,” she murmured.

“Just having you near pleases me,” he said in thick tones. “Christ, I've waited for you for longer than you could ever possibly imagine,” he murmured.

Oh. She faltered, not knowing how to react.

As if realizing he'd revealed more than he intended, he slid his arms up the curve of her spine.

“Now, my turn to play,” he informed her, drawing her toward his waiting lips.

“But—”

Not giving her time to protest, Cyn branded her lips with a kiss of pure hunger. Bolts of pleasure sizzled through her, making her feel as if she were struck by lightning.

The power felt wild . . . untamed.

As if Cyn had released the berserker who lived deep inside him.

Planting tiny, restless kisses over her face, he slid his lips down the length of her arched neck. Fallon's breath was slammed from her lungs as he tugged her upward, catching the puckered nipple between his teeth. She gave a soft gasp as he licked and tormented her, her back arching as excitement buzzed through her. He turned his attention to the other breast, deliberately urging her desire to a fever pitch.

Oh . . . Lord. She needed more.

She needed to feel him stretching her as he slid his cock deep into her body.

But even as she struggled to slide onto his waiting erection, he was ruthlessly hauling her up to her knees. With a strangled moan she glanced down to watch his mouth explore the clenched muscles of her stomach, his tongue darting out to send shivers of delight through her.

She hissed, her fingers tangling in his hair as his lips explored the curve of her hip and down the inside of her thigh.

Okay. Perhaps she shouldn't be in such a hurry.

Cyn seemed to know what he was doing.

Then his tongue found her moist cleft and she forgot how to think.

Feeling her entire body clench as his tongue stroked the highly sensitive flesh, Fallon gazed down at the vampire who was rapidly becoming a necessary part of her life.

He made her feel beautiful, and desirable, and just a little wicked.

Everything a woman wanted to feel.

Tightening his hold on her hips, Cyn found the mysterious center of her pleasure, gently sucking until her entire body clenched with her looming orgasm.

“Cyn,” she breathed. “I need—”

“I've got you,” he assured her, guiding her back so he could position her over his straining cock.

Then slowly he breached her tight passage.

Fallon hissed as she tentatively pressed downward, groaning at the delicious burn.

Suddenly she understood why he kept assuring her that his large size was a good thing.

Actually, it wasn't a good thing. It was a fantastic thing.

His teeth clenched as he allowed her to go at her own pace, sinking down one slow inch at a time.

It wasn't until she was fully seated that he tightened his hold on her hips and began to move.

Savoring his deep, steady pace, Fallon laid her hands on his chest, following the instinct to roll her hips to meet his upward thrust. She smiled with satisfaction as he gave a low shout as his fingers tightened on his hips.

She might be naive, but she was a fast learner.

“You're going to be the death of me, princess,” he panted.

Fallon leaned down, sucking his lower lip between her teeth. His hips jerked off the mattress, as she bit the tender flesh at the same time she scored her nails down his chest.

Fallon chuckled, loving the sensation of having Cyn in her thrall. It might be nothing but an illusion that he was offering her, but it gave her a heady sense of power.

In this moment there was only the two of them.

No past.

And no future.

Shoving away the worries that waited just beyond the bedroom door, she concentrated on the sensation of Cyn's deepening thrusts, her soft pants filling the air as she hovered on the cusp of bliss.

Cyn tightened his grip, his face burying in the curve of her neck. Then, still pumping into her at a furious pace, he tilted his hips for an even deeper penetration, sending her into a shattering climax.

Fallon shuddered in ecstasy, convulsing around him as he cried out with the violent pleasure of his own release.

Anthony Benson woke to find he was lying on the floor of his foyer.

Grimacing, he forced himself to the kitchen to devour the meal he'd prepared before leaving his private estate.

It was difficult enough to layer the magic through the caves of the Commission. Even with the potion to amplify his power, it drained him to the point of exhaustion. But to be forced to send a blast of energy to disrupt whoever had been spying on him had depleted what few resources he had left.

He was fortunate he'd managed to reach home before he collapsed.

Once he felt the magic returning to his body he took a quick shower and pulled on his usual uniform of slacks and a brown tweed jacket. Only then did he head to his library where he paced the floor with short, jerky steps.

Who the hell had been scrying the caves?

And why?

Had they been searching for him?

A trickle of fear inched down his spine. No. It was impossible.

Halting at the table below the large bay window, Anthony poured himself a large shot of whiskey. If anyone suspected that he was manipulating the Oracles, he would have been destroyed before he could reach the caves.

It was more likely that the Commission had decided to beef up their security.

Which still posed a problem.

His cloak would have hid his identity, but if the Oracles were aware that there was someone sneaking through the tunnels, it would make it almost impossible for him to return.

Which meant he had to hope this last Compulsion spell would be enough to gain complete control of the Commission.

But first . . .

He drained the whiskey and set his empty glass on his desk.

The imp Keeley should have returned by now. Which meant he'd either been captured or turned traitor.

Either way, Anthony needed to shut his mouth before he could start squealing and ruin everything.

Reaching into his pocket he pulled out his phone and sent a short text to Yiant.

Minutes later the slender fairy appeared, attired in ornate robes that revealed he'd been in the middle of some flamboyant fey celebration.

Offering a low bow, Yiant straightened to offer Anthony a patently false smile. “My lord, I am honored by your invitation, but as I said, I truly have no more potions.”

Anthony waved aside the overly practiced words. Really. Dealing with the fey was like dealing with the slimy politicians in Dublin. Cunning, slippery bastards who would stab you in the back without hesitation.

Thankfully he had them by the nuts.

And he wasn't afraid to squeeze his grip when necessary.

“I need you to make me a portal,” he said.

The fairy frowned. No doubt he'd hoped for a quick return to his party. “To where?”

“The King of Vampires' lair.”

Pure shock drained the color from the fairy's face. “You want me to take you to Styx's lair?”

“Unless he's been replaced,” he mocked.

“But . . . it isn't possible.”

Anthony adjusted the cuff of his tweed jacket, his voice dangerously soft. “You really need to stop saying that to me.”

Yiant licked his dry lips. “I mean that his home is protected by layers of magic that prevent the opening of a portal.”

Anthony shrugged. “Have you been there?”

“Naturally I traveled to pay my respects after he'd settled at the lair with his mate.”

“And to scout the terrain in case you wanted to spy on the Anasso?”

“Of course not,” the fairy denied, his eyes wide with innocence.

A lie. One that Anthony ignored.

He had no interest in demon power games. All that mattered was that Yiant had been to the vampire lair, so he could create a portal.

“Then you will take me as close as possible.”

Yiant was shaking his head before Anthony finished speaking. “The vampires will kill us. The Ravens patrol the grounds.”

“I don't intend to linger long enough for the vampires to know we're there. Besides, it will soon be daylight there.”

“But—”

Anthony slashed a pudgy hand through the air. “This isn't a request.”

Pacing from one end of the library to the other, Tonya told herself to go to bed.

It wasn't as if she could be a damned liaison when the two people she was supposed to be liaisoning between were both too busy with the exquisite Chatri princess to need her services.

Her hands fisted, her jaw clenched as she recalled her brief glimpse of Fallon as she'd led Styx from the porch to the front gate.

She'd been perfect, of course. Tall and slender with a glorious cloud of golden hair and the features of an angel. And she'd moved with a hypnotizing grace, making Tonya feel like an awkward lump in comparison.

It was no wonder that Magnus had been so eager to follow them when he'd caught the faint, champagne scent of his fiancée.

Now the two would be happily reunited and no doubt headed to their fairy home where they would live happily ever after.

Blah, freaking blah, blah.

Telling herself that she'd be happy to see the last of Magnus, Prince of Chatri, Tonya watched as the automated curtains silently slid across the windows to block out the cresting sun. It wasn't as if she cared about the bastard.

No. Way.

The fierce words had barely formed when her heart gave a renegade leap at the sound of angry male voices echoing through the hallway.

Mere seconds later Styx and Magnus stormed into the library.

Halting in the center of the room, Magnus spread his arms, his expression mocking. “Satisfied, my lord?” he sneered. “I have returned as you commanded.”

Styx narrowed his gaze, clearly in a mood. “Not nearly. Keep your fairy ass in this lair. If I have to chase you down I'm not going to be happy.”

With his warning delivered, the Anasso turned on his heel and headed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

“As if he has the right to tell me what to do,” the prince muttered.

Tonya's lips twisted with grim amusement as she studied the painfully beautiful male face. It was obvious the prince's arrogance was taking a battering from the King of Vampires. So why had he returned?

And without his fiancée.

“What did Fallon want with Styx?”

“She needed him to repair the vampire who'd been injured.”

Tonya blinked in confusion. “Cyn was injured?”

“Yes.”

“Oh my God, is he okay?”

Magnus sent her a glance of disgust. “Why should I care?”

Tonya narrowed her gaze. “Hey, don't be pissy with me. I didn't do anything.”

“I'm not pissy,” Magnus denied, his slender fingers toying with the emerald pendant hung around his neck. Tonya suspected it was an unconscious habit that revealed he wasn't quite as composed as he wanted her to believe. “I'm quite justly aggrieved.”

She shrugged. The two men were too alpha not to strike sparks off each other.

“Styx isn't happy unless he's making someone feel aggrieved. I wouldn't take it personally.”

“I'm indifferent to the vampires.”

“Of course you are.” She rolled her eyes. “Then what has you so aggrieved?”

“My fiancée has broken our marriage contract.”

Tonya stilled. A tangle of emotions twisted her stomach into a painful knot.

“Oh,” she at last breathed. “I didn't know that was possible.”

“It's extremely rare.” Magnus paced toward the fireplace, the scent of aged whiskey teasing at Tonya's nose. “Only a fool would choose such an extreme path.”

Tonya watched as he poured himself a glass of the nectar that had been left on the mantel to warm.

He sounded so . . . cold. As if he didn't care that the female he'd chosen as his wife had decided to remain with Cyn.

“What do you mean by ‘extreme'?” she prodded.

“She will be shunned by our people.” He finished the nectar and set aside the glass. “It is the worst fate a Chatri can suffer.”

Tonya shuddered. She'd pissed off her father and brothers when she'd chosen to work for a vampire in a demon club, but they hadn't actually shunned her.

She just wasn't invited to feast days.

A sweet bonus as far as she was concerned.

“What did she do to break the contract?”

“She refused to return to our homeland.”

Tonya waited for the rest of the story. And waited. At last she gave a shake of her head.

“That's it?”

Magnus arched a brow, the firelight shimmering over his stunning hair. Even dressed in casual slacks and a green silk shirt, he managed to look unearthly. Ethereal.

“I gave her a direct command.”

Tonya's petty jealousy toward the impossibly lovely princess was buried beneath a surge of outrage. She moved forward, not halting until she had to tilt back her head to glare at the prince who stood there with such supreme indifference.

“You . . . pig.”

Magnus blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“You're allowing the woman you once intended to make your wife to be shunned because she didn't obey your command?”

“It's her duty.”

“While your duty is doing whatever the hell you want, including kissing me?” she accused.

A sudden flush touched his cheeks, an emotion she couldn't read flaring through the cognac eyes.

“You didn't object at the time.”

Tonya grimaced at the direct hit.

Of course she hadn't objected. Hell, she'd been an eager participant, even though she'd known he belonged to another.

Once again, she'd allowed her stupid hormones to overcome her common sense.

Christ. What was it with her and being attracted to the wrong guys?

Not only wrong, but completely inaccessible?

No doubt a psychiatrist would tell her that it was simply a case of wanting what she couldn't have.

She thought it was a pain in the ass.

“Because I was temporarily insane, you moron,” she snapped, lifting her fist to bang it against his chest.

Scowling, he grasped her wrist, careful to keep from bruising her pale skin. “Why are you so angry?”

Tonya had a dozen reasons.

Most of them had to do with her unwanted attraction to an arrogant jackass who could treat his fiancée as if she were some disposable piece of property.

“Why did she refuse to return with you?” she demanded.

His lips curled in disdain. “She claimed that an Oracle had demanded her services, but it was obvious that she has developed feelings for the vampire.”

“Oracle?” Tonya was momentarily distracted. “What Oracle?”

“Ask your precious Anasso.”

She frowned at the odd words. “He isn't mine.”

Magnus tightened his hand on her wrist, tugging her close enough that the heat of his body seared through her tiny, spandex dress.

“You answer to him.”

“Wrong,” she countered. “I answer to Viper, who pays the bills. Not all of us happen to be a princess.”

He leaned down until they were nose to nose. “You are too outspoken.”

“Tough shit.” She didn't back down an inch. If he thought he could intimidate her, then he was in for a very big disappointment. She dealt with drunken trolls on a regular basis. “Why are you here?”

“Where should I be?”

She desperately tried to pretend that the stroke of his thumb against her inner wrist wasn't sending arrows of pleasure darting through her body.

She didn't want to be so vulnerable to his touch.

“You came to search for Fallon, didn't you?”

His gaze moved slowly over her face, at last stopping to study the full curve of her lips. “I did.”

“Now you've found her.” She pointed out the obvious, not sure why she was pressing him. “Why don't you return to your homeland?”

His fingers skimmed up her bare arm, even as his expression tightened with annoyance. “You sound as if you're trying to get rid of me.”

An unexpected pain sliced through her heart at his words.

No. Oh God, no.

She wasn't idiotic enough to want him to stay, was she?

“Once you're gone I can return to my real job,” she forced herself to say. “The club needs me.”

His hand moved beneath her hair, cupping her nape with an oddly possessive grip. “And that's the only reason?”

She ignored the question. “Are you staying because you hope Fallon will change her mind?” she instead demanded.