Handsome Bastard (5 page)

This time she raked her tongue across both fangs. He thrust his hips against her, his steely cock trapped between their bodies. Then he abruptly pushed her away.

Panting, his eyes blazing, he held her gaze. “You flirt with danger, Leotine.”

She didn’t reply, merely smiled innocently and waded farther into the water.

They spent the next few moments washing, then with a suddenness that made her gasp, Cyprian once again swept her into his arms and left the pool. He placed her on the towel that was still spread on the ground and stretched out atop her, bearing his weight on his forearms.

He kissed her, plunging his tongue into her mouth. Leotine clung to him, her eyes closed. Instinctively she slid her feet up and down his calves then wrapped her legs around him. She fully expected him to shift his cock into her and satisfy their reawakened hunger, but he surprised her by breaking the kiss and edging down her body. Stretching out on his side, he lifted her legs over his shoulders and pressed his face against her soft mound.

Leotine gasped. Heat, both from desire and embarrassment, rose in her face. For all the times she had pleasured men with her lips and tongue, none had ever reciprocated.

Cyprian ran his tongue over her clit. His lips tugged on the tender flesh before he began licking in a gentle, steady rhythm that soon had her head tossing and body tensing with impending climax. It was as if he knew exactly what she wanted. Perhaps he was reading her mind. She had long ago forgotten to conceal her thoughts from him, mostly because she hadn’t once felt him attempt to pry into her mind. Maybe he had been there from the first, which was why she felt such confusion regarding him.

“Oh,” she cried, clutching his head closer, every muscle in her body tense and her heart pounding. The sensations were indescribable. So great was the pleasure that she wondered if she could survive much more.

He left her clit only to plunge his tongue deep inside her. It swirled and explored before returning to her engorged nub and pushing her over the edge.

“Yes, oh, Cyprian. Gods!” She moaned, thrashed and panted while he continued licking and sucking until she lay completely drained. Trembling, her breathing ragged, she let her thoughts go blank in the aftermath of primitive yet unsurpassed pleasure.

Cyprian sat back on his heels and watched Leotine, who lay in a semiconscious state, a slight smile on her lips.

Just one night and he’d already learned so much about her. She was undoubtedly a hunter, but not typical by any means. This woman was too curious about his kind to be fighting against them. The way she’d fearlessly given him a taste of her blood had proved that. Of course he doubted she was ready to accept a full-fledged bite, but given time he could convince her.

She piqued his curiosity in many ways. What made a woman whose natural instinct was to
like
blood-drinkers enter the vocation of hunting them? Had one of his kind harmed her in some way? Perhaps murdered someone she loved? Maybe she was among those raised since birth to fight for the despicable group We Who Serve Humanity.

They thought they were so cunning, hiding from the world and seeking to drive his kind to extinction. True, most blood-drinkers didn’t know about them, but Cyprian did. He would wager his fangs that his knowledge of their existence was their main reason for tracking him so relentlessly. He had become a challenge to them, but little did they know they were playing his game and Cyprian never lost.

* * * * *

The following evening, Leotine awoke in Cyprian’s bed, surprised she hadn’t been moved to the slaves’ quarters. She wasn’t accustomed to men who treated their slaves, even those they took to bed, as anything more than property. This quirk of his made him far more dangerous than she’d anticipated. It was harder to kill someone likeable, even if he was a blood-drinker.

Think about all the people he has destroyed, such as hunters who wanted nothing more than to protect mankind from evil.

Leotine left the bed, ignoring the soreness in her body caused by Julius’ beating, and drew a deep, cleansing breath. Regardless of how handsome and tempting Cyprian was, she could not forget her duty. Evil in itself was alluring. If it wasn’t, no one would have difficulty being good.

In spite of her youth and innocent appearance, Leotine’s training and experience had hardened her. Other women might soften when faced with Cyprian’s charms, but she would not.

After washing in a basin of water, she combed the tangles from her hair, dressed in her tunic and left the room. She glanced toward the garden and inhaled the scent of flowers carried on the mild evening breeze. Though she would love to explore the garden, she assumed she would be expected to carry out household duties of some sort. Best to find another slave to guide her. She walked to the atrium where several servants passed her by.

An older, black-haired woman who carried herself with an air of authority approached.

“Good evening,” the woman said. “I’m Ursula. You must be Leotine. The master told us about you and if you have any questions or needs, please let me know. How are you feeling? Those are some terrible cuts and bruises from your accident.”

Leotine smiled slightly. “I’m much better, thank you. What are my duties? I would like to attend to them directly.”

“The master left orders that you are to do whatever you please.”

Leotine raised an eyebrow. “But I—”

“He is usually a kind master but doesn’t take well to being disobeyed. His instructions are simple and clear. You are to take orders directly from him. When your services are not required, you may spend your time doing what you wish. Don’t look so startled.” Ursula rested a gentle hand on Leotine’s shoulder. “The master’s ways are often unusual, but once you grow accustomed to his habits, I’m sure you’ll enjoy living here.”

“Yes. I’m sure,” Leotine said softly and offered her most demure smile.

Ursula disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Leotine with many thoughts to ponder.

It seemed Cyprian wanted her only as a love slave after all.

After familiarizing herself with the rooms off the atrium, Leotine walked to the garden. With the light of the full moon as well as several torches lit beside a rectangular pool, she was able to see easily.

It was a beautiful garden filled with trees, flowers and lovely statues. One in particular caught her interest. The exquisite man formed of white marble was a perfect replica of Cyprian Augustus, from the wavy hair on his head to his well-shaped toes. Even the details of the beautiful marble cock and balls were unmistakable.

Leotine’s pulse quickened as she imagined making love with Cyprian. She’d never enjoyed a man so much in her life. Instinctively she took a step closer to the statue, then paused and glanced around the garden to make sure she was alone. Seeing no one, she approached the statue and gazed at its chiseled face. Her fingertips outlined the well-defined stomach muscles then hovered over the bulbous cock head.

“Good evening.”

Leotine jumped and drew a sharp breath. She spun on her heel and felt heat rise in her face when her gaze met Cyprian’s.

He stood on the colonnade and though he wasn’t smiling, she sensed his amusement. Again he wore the toga. He looked gorgeous enough to weaken her knees. She longed to run her hands over his powerful chest, feel the soft curling hair over solid muscles. Though she kept her duty in the back of her mind, she allowed her womanly urges to overtake her, knowing it would enhance her performance. After all, she was his slave to do with as he pleased. By the lustful expression burning beneath the calm surface of his eyes, he intended to have her again soon.

“Good evening.” Leotine lowered her gaze in the manner of a proper slave. “Is there anything you require?”

“Just the pleasure of your company.” He cupped her chin in his hand and tenderly ran his thumb over her bruised cheek. “I trust you’re feeling better?”

“Yes.”

“But you still need time to heal. So delicate.” He bent and brushed his lips across her cheek.

Good. Let the bastard think her a weak, innocent mortal.

His lips moved to her temple then her mouth. Leotine’s eyes closed and her lips parted beneath his. She resisted the urge to moan softly when his tongue slipped between her lips and explored with gentle, yet demanding strokes. Resting her hands on his lean waist, she stood on tiptoe to better reach him. Gods, everything about the man excited her to a fever pitch and almost made her forget he was a beast that needed to be killed.

With the utmost tenderness, he trailed his fingers over the sides of her breasts then cupped her buttocks. His tongue thrust deeper into her mouth while at the same time he kneaded her fleshy bottom.

Leotine ran her palms up his back and gripped his shoulders. Her fingers stroked and clutched the muscles. He was so hard. Utterly virile and oozing more appeal than a room full of the emperor’s finest gladiators.

When the kiss broke, Leotine gazed at him breathlessly. Cyprian’s eyes blazed with passion, but before she could fully discern the reddish tinge of vampiric desire, he brushed past her and faced the statue. It was strange, seeing Cyprian in the flesh so close to Cyprian in white marble.

He glanced back at her and extended his hand, palm up. She slid hers into it.

Cyprian’s long fingers closed over her hand and his warmth seeped into her. Why was he playing this game? What could he possibly gain from this mock courting of a slave?

He tucked her hand against his arm and walked with her through the garden.

“Who made the sculpture of you?” she asked when he seemed to have no intention of breaking the silence.

“A gifted artist I knew long ago.”

She wondered exactly how long. It could have been centuries.

“Tell me about yourself, Leotine.”

Glancing at him, she said, “I have told you everything.”

“I mean about your family. By your excellent speech I guess you were born in this vicinity, yet there is something foreign about you.”

“My mother was from Britannia. She was taken into slavery.”

“I see.”

How can he see
, she thought bitterly.
What does a creature like him know of slavery and hardship?

“Do you know who your father is?”

“Yes,” Leotine said more sharply than she should have. She continued scarcely above a whisper, “He was also a slave in Julius Titus’ house.”

“You needn’t fear speaking freely to me, Leotine. I knew Titus himself couldn’t possibly be your father, for he surely couldn’t spawn such perfection. Not even if your mother was a beauty.”

“My mother is very beautiful,” Leotine admitted. With brilliant auburn hair and pale blue eyes, her mother encompassed all the loveliness of Britannia. Unfortunately she was as cruel as she was lovely. Sharp-tongued and free with physical punishment, she had prepared Leotine well for the rigorous training with We Who Serve Humanity.

For several moments they walked quietly through the garden, then Leotine began, “Do you—”

Cyprian glanced at her. “Please go on.”

“I was wondering about your family. Do they live nearby?”

How would the blood-drinker answer her question? What sort of lie would he spin?

“My parents are long dead. I have no wife and few friends. You might wonder about the closeness between me and my servants. I’ve found most of them to be more loyal than acquaintances of my own class. Those who reside in this villa are my family, my children.”

His reply surprised her. Though vague, it was mostly honest. By children, she knew he meant his unnatural offspring—other blood-drinkers.

“In time, you and I may come to share such closeness.” He used his thumb to gently stroke her hand. “This is your home now, Leotine, and it is my wish for you to be happy here.”

She replied in a way she hoped would please him. “Thank you. My wish is to make you happy, Master.”

His gaze again flickered in her direction and a slight smile touched his lips. What made her uneasy was that it didn’t reach his eyes. The green orbs seemed to stab her soul, destroying lies and prodding for the truth she swore to keep hidden until the day she pierced his evil heart.