Loki's Game (12 page)

A satin and lace negligee. With a matching robe lying beneath it.

“Oh, my God.”

She couldn’t believe he’d actually had the nerve to buy it. Assuming he’d purchased that for her to wear with him, Lily threw it back to the bed and rolled her eyes. At least she had something to sleep in now.

Not that she wanted to sleep. Seeing that pathetic excuse for a nightgown tipped her mind into a wild, rolling tumble. She was essentially a prisoner in his home with no means of escape, trapped between some rich and twisted supernatural mutant and whatever the hell Loren was. Rowan still hadn’t explained what was going on. Damn it, she needed answers.

With a plan forming in her mind, Lily snatched up the scrap of fabric, pulled a towel from the rack, and disappeared into the bathroom.

* * * * *

Rowan paced the room like a caged animal. The walls were too close, the ceiling too low. And the woman on the other end of the house much too tempting. It was foolish to bring her here, he knew, but it was the only place she would be safe from Loki. Only, he was not entirely certain that he could keep her safe from himself. He’d promised her he’d behave himself, and the one thing keeping him away was that she still smelled of feline. The stench infuriated him…and yet he felt the need to cover her with his own scent, to obliterate any trace of the creation that was Loren Eshu.

The shower started, and he cursed under his breath. If that one thing could keep him away, it wouldn’t for long. Even across the house he heard the spray change as she stepped into it. All at once he remembered the sight of her, naked and wanton, writhing beneath him.

Growling, he flung open the balcony doors and stepped out into the cool night air. The breeze did little to alleviate the fire licking through his veins. He should leave—set the alarms to protect her and escape into the city. He shouldn’t stay. It would be no good for either of them. But even for all his strength, he was too weak to stay away from her. Gods help him, he wanted her in the most irrational way.

The water shut off on the other side of the building and his face bunched in a grimace. Rowan’s hands itched to hold her again. The pain already coursed through his limbs. He needed her, and he knew that another coupling would mean his end.

“Rowan?”

Fuck.

He’d been so lost in his head that he’d not heard the door open or her footsteps until it was too late. The sweet smell of her skin hit him and he crumbled inside, his self-control shattering into a thousand tiny pieces. He turned and his mouth fell open as he looked at her. The small gown draped over her curves as deliciously as he’d imagined, stopping at the tops of her thighs. Black fabric clung to pale, milk-white skin and a small, nervous smile turned her cheeks up.

“Lily,” he croaked, and cleared his throat to clear the rust from his voice. “You should be in bed.” Sweet Hell, he was going to lose it if she didn’t leave.

“Not sleepy.”

“So you thought coming over here…” he trailed off. She wrung her hands together in nervous fashion, her eyes darting back and forth around the room, but never looking at him.

“I…I don’t know,” she said, already moving across the floor to perch on the edge of the bed. Rowan closed his eyes to keep them from rolling back in his head. The woman was more temptation than she knew. “I don’t know what’s going on. I’m afraid and I don’t want to be alone right now. There’s too much going on in my head.”

“Yours?” Rowan laughed and shook his head. “Try having two separate consciousnesses in your head all the time.”

* * * * *

Lily stared at Rowan as he came toward her, unable to make sense of what he’d said. “Two?”

“Always.” His handsome face twisted into a mask of something that resembled pain. She wanted to reach for him, to smooth away the ache that had him so tangled up, but the moment she said his name and his attention focused on her, her nerve vanished. She knew before she ever donned this silly costume that she could never be the brazen temptress, and why she had even bothered to try was beyond her. “I always carry two sets of thoughts, and they rarely match.”

“Wow.”

“Times like this are rare…when the two are one.”

“Must be a powerful thought.” She dared a glance up at him, and met a burning gaze.

“It is,” he whispered. Lily’s throat went dry. She attempted to swallow.

“What’s the thought?” She immediately wanted to regret asking, but couldn’t. His gaze turned to a glower. From his pacing near the window, he was suddenly across the room, looming over her in the space of half a breath. His mouth hovered inches above hers.

“To strip you naked and fuck you until you scream my name,” he whispered. “Promise be damned.” His mouth closed over hers, sending sparks of fire tumbling through her body. She could not think, could scarcely do anything but feel as his tongue swept across hers and one big hand cradled the back of her head. He tasted of whiskey and spice, and his familiar scent overpowered her senses, even when her back landed against the bed and his weight settled over her. His kiss was fierce, desperate. Hungry. He needed her as much as she needed him.

Rowan’s hands were everywhere, rasping across the soft fabric of her gown, pushing it up over her belly to reveal the small scrap of matching fabric covering her sex. He sank to his knees, gazing reverently at her overheated body before pressing his lips to the sensitive skin just above her navel, then chased his hand up her body to the valley between her breasts. Each touch of his mouth to her body added to the blaze building between her legs. Lily moaned, her breath escaping in a rush. She clasped at his head, letting the soft silk of his blond hair slide through her fingers as he licked and kissed his way back to her lips.

“Rowan…” she breathed before he claimed her mouth again. She wanted to speak but couldn’t form coherent thoughts as she lay there feeling his lips, his hands…
him
.

The world shifted. His mouth never left hers, even with the confused rush of air that found her straddling his hips, his hands kneading the globes of her ass. Lily gasped, knowing she should stop this even as she licked a path along his jaw and down his neck. She ground her sex against him, feeling the hard ridge of his arousal press back. With each sweep of her body, he let out a strangled groan that reverberated through her body and settled deep in her womb. Rowan shifted his hips against her, pressing harder against her center, mimicking the movements she knew he would use to drive her to mindlessness. Each movement created delicious friction, pushed her closer to frenzy. Impatient, Lily reached between them, finding the waistband of his shorts, and tugged it down. Her knuckles brushed the slick skin of his cock, and Rowan shivered, hands tightening on her waist even as he raised his hips to help push the offending clothing away.

Closing her fingers around his length, Lily stroked once, twice, swirling her thumb around the swollen head before he pushed her hand away and surged up, brushing the lips of her throbbing sex. In the same breath she levered her body down, taking the full length of him inside in one movement, the thin string of her underwear snapping under the pressure and popping back against her clit.

A cry echoed through the room, and Lily realized as he lifted her body and pulled her back down that it had come from her. Rowan caught the hem of her gown and jerked it over her head, then latched onto one full, aching nipple and suckled hard. Lily squealed, bucking against the combined sensations of his mouth on her breast and his cock moving deep inside her, lost in the taste, feel, and smell of him.

Her body moved of its own accord, desperately seeking release. Lily rose and fell, the wet slap of skin echoing in between her cries of pleasure. He filled her so completely, stretched her wide, and thrust hard, each movement driving her closer and closer to breaking. His hands shook as he clutched at her body, dragging and pulling her where he wanted her. She felt like a rag doll, tossed around for his own pleasure.

One hand moved between them, his calloused thumb brushing the small bundle of nerves he found there, and sent her rocketing over the edge. Lily’s mouth opened in a breathless scream as her body clenched around him, his big hands easily keeping her body moving, increasing the sensations. The edges of her vision sparkled, threatening to fade to black as ripples of pleasure coursed through her, radiating from her spasming sex, through her fingers and toes. Rowan’s mouth found hers, his hands closed tightly on her waist, and he surged up hard against her with a groan. Warmth spread through her as he forced himself deep inside her, pulsing and shivering in orgasm.

All at once, he threw her backwards and leapt from the bed, the frightening, familiar wolf bursting into view and landing in a howling heap on the balcony across the room. Lily smothered a startled cry behind her hands. She stared at the beast, shaken to her core by the sight. The beast’s shoulders rose and fell with labored breaths, a low whine rattling in its throat. She laid one trembling hand over her stuttering heart, and after a moment slipped to the edge of the bed. Rowan’s intelligent blue eyes stared back at her, the set of his face apologetic.

Sliding from mind-blowing sex to the worst fear of her life took no more than a moment, but as she faced the monster on the other side of the room, her heart pounded for an entirely different reason. If she intended to have any sort of relationship with this…this man, then she had to face this.

Slowly, Lily crossed the room toward him, stopping several paces away to watch him. She reached for him, squeaking in surprise when he bumped his head against her palm. The feel of his soft, smooth fur rustling across her fingers thrilled her. A small, tentative smile crossed her lips.

“I must be crazy,” she said. The barking noise Rowan made sounded suspiciously like a laugh. She cut her eyes at him. “Hush,” Lily commanded, and a startled giggle burst out of her throat. “It’s like having a pet!” she cried, and received an unamused look as she giggled and stroked the top of his head. The big wolf snorted and paced around her, leaning against her belly. She knelt to look him in the face, but as she reached out to stroke the fur along his shoulder, his demeanor changed. The beast’s long snout curled back into a snarl and he turned to face the open balcony doors, leaning against her and pushing her back toward the center of the room. “Rowan…what is it?” she asked, panic rising to choke away her earlier euphoria as the fur along his spine stood on end. He howled.

* * * * *

The concern in her voice scarcely registered. She couldn’t know what he’d sensed, what terrible odor lurked just beyond the walled garden.

Fucking cat.

The poor girl was confused, yes, but it was for her own good. If she really knew what had come to pass since their meeting… If she knew what sort of trouble he’d led her into…

Rowan organized his thoughts against the rush of feral aggression and reached out through his mind to pull his human nature back to the surface. Itching, followed by needles of pain, coursed through his body, and as the fur receded, a thin sheen of sweat broke out across his skin. Bones, twisting and contorting with the change, echoed sickening pops as the joints reformed into a human body.

Rising to his feet, Rowan surged forward, slamming the balcony doors closed. He flipped the multiple locks, drew the curtains, and leaned against them. He drew in several deep breaths, searching for calm.

“Rowan, what is going on?” Her voice sounded desperate, panicked. “Tell me everything right now or I’m leaving.”

“You can’t leave,” he replied. Rowan turned to face her, stung by the tears that coursed down her cheeks. “It’s too dangerous.”

“Well, don’t you think I should know what the danger is so I can avoid it?” She was nothing if not logical, even when upset. He cringed and moved past her to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Remember when I told you there was trouble associated with me?” he asked. She whimpered, seeming to notice her nakedness, and crossed her arms over her chest as she nodded. “Well, this is it.”

“What is it?” she prodded, padding back across the room to draw the bedspread up around her body.

“Loren.”

“So you’ve said,” she snorted, wiping her face with the backs of her hands as she slipped into the bed. He wanted her closer, but she stayed as far away as she could get while still keeping her body covered. “But what specifically?”

“What do you know of him?”

“Well,” she perched on the mattress and drew her knees up to her chest, “he’s also in his mid-thirties,” she shot a sharp look at him as she said it, “and he’s an eccentric millionaire art collector that supposedly inherited his fortune and collection from wealthy grandparents.” Rowan couldn’t stop the horrified laugh that tore loose from his throat.

“And you believe that?”

“You just asked what I knew.” She scowled, and the look froze his laughter. “You also said you two have a past. Is he some sort of shifter too?”

Gods, this woman knew how to get right to the point. Any other time he would appreciate that quality, but this was conversation he had been dreading since he first lost control of his form and discovered that she was
The One
.

“He is. However he is not like me…not at all.”