A Wicked Night (Creatures of Darkness 2): A Coraline Conwell Novel (39 page)

“You don’t play fair.”

He grinned an I’m-too-cute-for-words grin. “For you, angel, I’ll play any way I have to in order to win.”

She had no right to be flattered, but she was, goddess save her. The male in front over her, all but offering himself, was such a magnificent specimen the ancients would carve stone to his likeness.

She shivered, recalling his expert touch, his tenderness, even after having been caged and tormented for five years. How much control must he have mustered not to take her like an animal that first day when she had been so out of control? And now he waited just as temperate for her to make a choice. She knew if she turned away and rejected him now, he would abide without complaint. Yet, he would also be heartbroken. She couldn’t do that to him, even if this was wrong.

But it didn’t feel wrong. It felt anything but. In fact, her body was practically buzzing with how right this felt.

In a final effort to control herself, she asked, “What of Raven? Won’t she be upset if we continue this, uh…whatever this is?”

He smiled as if sniffing her pending acquiesce. “Raven means nothing to me. An old acquaintance. That is all. It’s you for me, angel. No one else.”

Something in her melted. Was she relieved? Was she glad to have Bray all to herself? Was that fair?

Despising all her internal questions, she shut her mind off, pulled her dress over her head, and tossed it aside. Bray’s face hardened with lust as she entered the pool in only her underwear. She reveled in his rapt gaze, leisurely sinking into the water. It was warm for autumn and, oh, so luxurious. She just stopped a moan, but her eyes slid shut.

As if he couldn’t resist, Bray hastened to her side of the pool, wrapped his arms around her waist and settled her in front of him between his legs and began once more to massage her neck. She did moan then, leaning back into his strong hands.

He teased her heated skin by scooping up cool water and allowing it to cascade along her shoulders and down her front. She could practically feel his eyes following every drop.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said. “My fierce witch.”

It wasn’t long till his mouth found her neck, planting light, slow kisses along her shoulder.

Her temperature rose, making her shiver with anticipation. His lips were soft yet unyielding, running along the tender flesh at her nape, to the crook of her neck, to the peak of her shoulder. Electric desire flashed through her veins.

When his hands tenderly trailed around her torso to cup her breasts with a succulent pressure, she was done for.

As if she couldn’t help herself, she twirled her hips and rubbed her backside against his rigid shaft, pulling a rough growl from somewhere deep within him.

Next to her ear, he said, “Does my angel need me as much as I need her?” His voice was all sand and gravel and grit.

She shuddered, almost groaning at the sound. “Yes.” She could hardly recognize her own voice. In such a short time, he had her panting with need.

Was this how succubi acted? Flip a switch and inhibitions flew out the window?

She kicked the thought to the back of her mind. If by chance this was her last night with Bray, nothing would ruin it, not even her.

Leaving one hand to kneed her left breast, his other danced down the flat of her stomach, stopping at the hem of her panties. Her breathing hitched.

In a hard, roughened tone, Bray murmured, “Do you want me to touch you, angel? In all the ways I crave?”

“Yes!”
Oh, goddess!

Her hormones went into hyperdrive.

His hand breached her panties and found the heat of her sex. Unable to restrain herself, she cried out at the sublime feel of him gliding along her clitoris.

Relentlessly, his fingers delved between her folds, finding a pace that drove her wild. Her hips became possessed, undulating in rhythm to Bray’s touch. Through the bond, she gleaned his masculine pride, his satisfaction to be pleasing his woman. White-hot sparks of orgasm stole her vision. Her body arched. She didn’t think she would have been able to stay in place if Bray wasn’t holding her to him. The sound she made could not possibly have come from her, but the evidence bounced off the walls back at her.

When she could take no more, she pushed Bray’s hand away, struggling for breath.

Oh, goddess, she could feel it now…the energy! And she wanted more!

No! She was imagining it.

She turned on Bray’s lap, straddling him. He seemed totally relaxed, smiling, as if he’d been satisfied as well.

“What about you?” she asked, her heart still pounding.

“I want you more fiercely than I’ve ever wanted anyone. But I am wiser than most. If I go too fast, I could lose you.”

Lose her? Did he even have her? “You have more right than anyone to want to go too fast,” she allotted, not wanting to think anymore.

“Perhaps. But we go at your pace.”

She needed things to go faster.

She grinned a wicked grin. “My pace it is, then.”

One of his brows arched.

Taking in a generous gulp of air, she plunged underwater to find the tip of his shaft with her lips, teasing him for a moment with a quick lick of her tongue. He shuddered, making her crave his pleasure. When she closed her mouth around his girth, his body jerked and she heard a muffled cry from above the surface. At length, she slipped her mouth over him, in and out, and back again, working him thoroughly. She wasn’t even breathless when he fisted her hair and yanked her out of the water, his fangs prominent, his gaze fierce.

“Are you trying to make me come?”

“It was on my mind,” she panted, a little irritated at the interruption.

“More of that and I’ll be spent within a minute.” With a sure grip on her hips, he shifted them, positioning her back against the roughened edge of the pond and fixing himself between her legs. “Tonight, we come together, or not at all.”

Like a typical vampire, he had gone ruthless, and her body had learned to soften at the sight. Whereas before she would have been fearful, now she only found it sexy as fuck.

“Alright,” she said, not mentioning that he had made her come once already.

His head dipped to take her lips. His kiss was equal parts possessive, passionate, desperate, and tender, as if he were battling every facet of himself.

His hardened shaft found her sex and pressed against her with a mindful slowness. Too slow for her liking. Did he think she would break?

With a quirk of her hips, she urged him on. He caught the hint and sank deep. They both groaned as their bodies joined. When he pulled out, he shook with barely restrained need before thrusting back in as though his life depended on it. She tried to focus on breathing evenly, on meeting his strokes, on tempering her urge to rake her nails down his back and scream at the top of her lungs.

With each carnal thrust, her heart raced out of control as her pleasure soared unbelievably high. She gazed up at the light refracting off the ceiling, like dancing stars against the soundtrack of exquisite pleasure. Her back arched with another merciless jerk of his hips and she moaned his name. So he did it again. And again. Maddening her. Drawing cries from the very core of her being.

His own sounds of pleasure drugged her mind. Made her crazed to hear more. Her hips writhed with his every plunge, undulating in blissful unison. For some reason her lips peeled back from her teeth and she bit him, hard, on the shoulder, though not enough to draw blood.

His growl was pure animal, savage, his shaft driving deeper, harder, faster. He fisted her hair to keep her in place, her teeth on his skin, as though he were in rapture. She bit down with a little more force, and his hips positioned at a punishing pace. She bit harder, he thrust harder. She moaned against his flesh. It was as if her teeth were the maestro.

Again she increased the pressure, and so did he.

He was like a beast; she his master.

Her release surged hard on the surf of ecstasy. He groaned, going ridged as his orgasm quickly followed, his body still thrusting wildly. The hot spray of his seed coated her, filling her, but she only had a second to revel in their culmination as that last thought—
master?
—filtered through her mind, frightening the hell out of her.

Bray pulled back, instantly concerned. She realized she hadn’t closed her emotions to him.

“What worries you? Have I done something? I went too fast, didn’t I? You don’t regret this, do you?”

His sudden apprehension touched her. She reached up to cup his cheek. “What’s happened between you and me? This? Was wonderful. I’m just scared.”
Of myself.

With both of them still catching their breaths, he turned them so that she was seated sideways on his lap, his arms around her waist, holding her close. “Perhaps if you confess your fears to me, I can help alleviate them.”

She took in a long breath and let it out slowly. “I’m not the person I used to be. I’m changing, and I don’t even know what into.” Had she really bitten him? With relish? She ran her fingers over the red mark. Thankfully the skin was unbroken. “I’m not even the species I thought I was. I don’t want to be a succubus. I don’t want to trick men and screw them for sustenance.”

Goddess she felt so good right now. Like she’d taken a five-hour power nap and then downed three cups of coffee. Had it always been like this after sex?

“Knox is an idiot. You should forget he said that. More importantly, you should forget anything he says on the matter. I don’t know what it’s like to be a halfling, but you should never be ashamed of what you are.”

A halfling? Half of one thing, part of something else, never quite whole. Forever fractured. Was that why her heart seemed to have been ripped down the middle? Did the witch want Mace while the succubus demanded Bray?

Emotionally confused, her words came out fast and unfiltered. “I’m afraid I’ll hurt you as I’ve hurt Mace. I’m afraid I still want Mace, but I want you too, and I’m afraid Mace hates me and that you’re going to hate me because I still want him.”

Bray took a moment to digest. “Mace is an idiot.”

She snorted. “Will that be your response to everything?”

He crooked his finger under her chin and placed a soft kiss on her lips. “Mace knew what you were and still he was surprised that you deviated in a time of great need. I saw it in your face that night. You were ready to break. Hell, I was ready to break. Emotionally, physically, mentally. We did what was necessary in the moment to keep the shards glued together. I’ll be dammed to hell if I’m going to regret it, and you shouldn’t either.”

Her bottom lip twitched, but she steeled herself and got it under control. Bray made sense. Or maybe she was just desperate for him to make sense. Either way, some of her guilt had whittled away. Mace
had
known what she was, kept it from her even. Had he hoped she’d never find out? Had he intended to keep her hidden here at the cottage, away from other men, just to be sure?

She didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but really, what had been his end game? Keep her in the dark about everything and see how things worked out?

His coldness earlier had gutted her. He hadn’t even asked how she was holding up after everything that had happened, or seemed interested to hear her side of the story. Hadn’t seemed to care to know where she’d been this entire time. That she’d been tortured for weeks, drowning in the doctor’s elixirs—
the doctor had drowned in the end
—or that she had nearly killed herself to free him of Saraphine’s cell.

She hadn’t gotten a chance to brag about her use of magic to save both her and Bray from those mercenaries—
blood and hair under my nails.

She wouldn’t apologize for her savagery. It had been necessary. If she hadn’t done what she’d done, two children would have suffered the same fate as their parents, or worse.

Mace hadn’t had a chance to hear any of that.
Because I had hurt him.

But he’d hurt her too.

Was her offence worse? She didn’t want to answer that.

It’s done. I can’t take it back.

What’s more, she didn’t want to take it back. That would be a slap in the face to Bray, who had traveled such a dark twisted path with her and come to the end all smiles and encouragement. She had never met anyone like him, and likely never would again. He was a rare find.

Not only that, even if she wanted to take away their time together, she couldn’t. He was part of her life now, just as Mace was. Just as Knox. Well, not quite like Knox.

She decided whatever she thought she’d felt from Knox earlier had been in her imagination. She had challenged him and he’d gotten pissed. That was all.

Tomorrow she would set things straight between them. She couldn’t continue allowing his dominance over her. He would feed from her normally, or not at all. His choice.

As for the newest revelation regarding her heritage, she would look up exactly what it meant to be a succubus. Or, rather, part of one. She would undoubtedly learn that they had horns and a beak, or some such nonsense, squashing any real possibility that she was one of them. She would laugh and call bullshit and then call it a day.