Playing with Monsters (15 page)

His body was ripped; muscles were perfectly sculpted in lines that I wanted to trace with my fingers. His body was sleek, each line carved to draw the eye and hold it. His runes were slightly duller than they’d been before, but even I could see the ancient symbols for what they were. Mortals couldn’t normally see a witch or warlock’s glyphs, but I was sure my tongue could. It itched to trace the patterns as well as the piercing in his nipple, and shamelessly so. 

His own eyes returned my rudeness, and he lowered them until, just above my pubic bone, he found the small pentagram with Latin words in tiny script placed around it. I wondered if he knew what it was; a devil’s trap. It was a symbol to ward off demons who would try to take possession of a witch’s body. Of course, we hadn’t had any demons around the coven in decades, but I’d felt the need to get it. Along with that, I had small outlines of birds that flew in a pattern up my ribcage; it had been my gift to myself when I’d gotten my first paycheck. A symbol of the freedom I’d taken for myself. It also was in memory of Joshua, and said in elegant calligraphy, ‘Your wings were ready but my heart was not.’ 

Joshua had once read me a poem. It was about a bird sitting on a tree, never afraid of the branches breaking, because her trust was not in the tree that had grown the branch, but in her own wings that would carry her if she needed it. She had been born with the means to save herself, and always would. That poem had remained in my heart and soul, especially after he’d left us.

“You have a devil’s trap,” he said as his hand moved to the smooth skin and traced the pattern. “Perfectly placed,” he finished hoarsely as his eyes slipped further, to the sheer material that was now hiding nothing.

He started with the sponge on my belly and worked around my breasts, ignoring the fact that both of our mingled breathing was growing slower and ragged from what he was doing. My nipples hardened, and it hurt, yet I ignored it, turning my head as his hands slid over one with the sponge, and then the other. He quickly finished the bath, and brought me a large T-shirt.

I waited for him to turn around as I dried off, pulled off my panties that were soaked, and slipped on the shirt which was so long that it went to my knees.

“Where am I sleeping?” I asked, needing to find a bed and hide beneath the covers.

“With me,” he replied, giving me a sardonic smile.

Chapter Sixteen

Lucian showed me to a room that just happened to adjoin his and returned to his own room to change. It wasn’t as masculine as his room. It was decorated in soft, delicate shades of lilac and cream. The bed was bigger than my own, but then again, the cottage didn’t have enough room to fit anything larger than a full-size mattress.

Lightning cracked outside the window, followed by a loud clap of thunder. My mind replayed what had happened during the bath, and the realization set in that I was with him, in his house, wearing nothing more than his
White Zombie
band T-shirt, and it percolated a bit. My brain was also trying to wrap itself around the idea that we’d almost died tonight, twice.

I didn’t know what to feel, or who to blame, but in my mind, I was silently screaming. My body still trembled, the adrenaline slowly escaping as the reality of the events sank in. These kinds of things just didn’t happen to us. We maintained our world, kept it hidden from outsiders so that these types of things didn’t occur.

I felt him before I saw him, that electrical buzz that slid over me, electrocuting my senses. The masculine scent he gave off was just an added bonus. I stood in place, rooted to the spot for fear of being in the same room with him and a bed. Dangerous combination, considering we almost hadn’t even needed a bed earlier tonight.

I turned and looked at him; his chest was still bare. He’d slipped on a pair of sweatpants, which I was sure were for my benefit. Other than that thin trail of fuzz that led into the light gray sweatpants, he had very little body hair. His form was rock hard, with sleek muscles that looked as if they had been sculpted by the finest artist.

I licked my lips as I took in the bulge, painfully aware that he was hard, and I was more interested than I should be. He could wipe tonight away from my mind, quiet the questions that had been playing on an internal loop. So many questions, yet no answers were forthcoming.

He passed me, and I remained where I was, my eyes still locked where his secret package had been. What the hell was wrong with me? I wasn’t this girl, a girl obsessed over a man just because he was hot as hell; I liked substance. I went after Todd because he had a great mind. He wasn’t the hottest guy in the coven, but he was smart. Really smart. He’d had a soft side to him, one that told me he’d be a good father someday, and I’d wanted him.

“There’s no bathroom in this room, just the master suite in my room. You’ll have to walk through mine to reach it. There is another bathroom down the hall from these rooms. Your sister and mother have been healed, and have already turned in for the night. If you need anything, just ask,” he said as he pulled down the covers and indicated with a slight nod of his head for me to get under them.

I moved slowly, my burns still aching as I moved towards the bed. I was almost to it when a knock sounded on the door, and Lucian quietly opened it and I whispered thanks to whoever had been on the other side.

“Lay down,” he said as he shut the door, locked it, and moved back to the bed. “This is a cream we use to speed the healing of the burns.” I tried to catch the fragrance of what might have been used in the cream, seeing that my mother had sold lots of different creams and salves for healing. Well, until my father stole the recipes and Lucian bought her shop, that is.

I sat on the bed carefully and extended my hand, but he ignored it. “Pull the shirt up so I can tend to the burns on your thighs,” he ordered.

“I can do it,” I assured him, my eyes taking in the angry red welts where the heat had damaged the flesh. I’d barely acknowledged the burns until I’d been in his huge, elegant tub. Now, I felt them even though I knew the salt from the leyline was working to fix the deep tissue that had been affected. “I’m not helpless,” I whispered as I looked up and found him smiling.

“I will do it, and you’ll answer my questions while I do, understand?” he said in a voice that sent needles into my brain.

I swallowed and nodded, my eyes growing heavy as I watched him sit beside me on the bed. My hand absently reached up and traced the line of his sleek muscles. I felt his body tense, and his breathing was a tinge heavier at my touch.

“Do you remember anything from your last life?” he whispered, and I lifted my eyes to look up at him.

“No,” I replied, and wondered why I felt a need to answer his question. My brain ached, but it was minimal. “I remember nothing.”

“Who is after you, Magdalena?” he asked, his eyes locked with mine.

“I don’t know,” I admitted, my eyes working to move away from his, as if it was some kind of spell or enchantment I saw in their inky depths.

His fingers dipped into the cream, and his other hand lifted the shirt. “Lie back, and don’t move, Lena. You’ll feel no pain, do you understand me?” he whispered, his voice filled with meaning.

I lay back, and watched his eyes as they lowered to my flesh. His fingers worked like the most skilled pianist, working the keys of my flesh as it created a storm inside of me, as well as outside the single window of the room. The lightning was getting closer, stronger. Or maybe it was me that was. My breath hitched in my lungs, got stuck as his fingers moved closer to the throbbing ache that had taken up residence between my legs.

I wanted to close my eyes, get lost in the multitude of sensations his hands created. I felt weighted down, as if moving would be impossible. My arms rested at my sides as he moved my legs apart and sat between them. Why he needed to be that close, I didn’t know, or care. I liked him there, close to me, close to the ache he created.

“Lucian,” I whispered, watching as his eyes snapped back to mine, as if my words surprised him.

“Who are you?” he asked, his eyes narrowed as his hands continued to apply the salve, sending messages to the nerves which seemed to be attached to each other, all leading to the ones in my belly that created a sensation of need.

“I’m Magdalena, second daughter to the house of Fitzgerald,” I mumbled.

“Do you have a dark side, sweet girl?” he murmured and I felt his fingers move inches away from my naked sex.

“Yes,” I whispered through a hoarse voice I didn’t recognize.

“Do you want me?” he asked.

No!
“Yes,” I replied. His mouth curved into a knowing smile, his eyes remained locked on my flesh. I felt the chilling air over my exposed core, and moved my hands to cover it, much to his surprise.

I pulled at the shirt, watching as he set the little jar down swiftly and captured my hands. His eyes lifted to mine and I felt my cheeks blossoming with heat. I chewed on my bottom lip, trying to fight whatever the hell was going on. He was peppering me with questions, and what I wanted to say didn’t come out, instead, only the truth did.

“You’re afraid of me,” he noted as his lips lowered and he brushed a kiss on the inside of one thigh, and then the other.

“Yes,” I replied. I was absolutely terrified of how easily I responded to him, ten times more so than I had with any other.

“Afraid of what you feel around me?” he continued, his hot mouth skimming the flesh, his eyes holding mine prisoner.

“Very,” I replied, wishing my mouth would close, and stop answering him. A moan tore from my throat as his fingers skimmed over my exposed heat. “What are you doing to me?” I asked in a small voice, and he smiled with a wolfish grin.

“Not what I really want to be doing with you,” he mumbled. “I can control your body with my lips, Magdalena. Imagine what I could do to you with the rest of my body,” his voice was mesmerizing as his fingers once again slipped through the damp folds.

My body moved, and I knew it had little to do with whatever he’d done, and more to do with my desire to have him inside of me. I wanted the ache to stop, and knew without having to be told that he’d fill the void I’d always felt, and quiet my mind. I moaned loudly as he dipped the end of one finger inside and pulled it out, licking it clean as I watched him.

“You taste like I need to fuck you,” he muttered, rising up until he was on his knees between my legs. My eyes locked on the massive bulge his sweatpants failed to conceal. After what I saw in the bathroom, I was pretty sure he wouldn’t fit and if by some miracle he did, he’d probably rip me in half.

“Why are you doing this?” I whispered.

“Because you’re too afraid to take what you need, and I’m a bastard,” he growled. “I need the chaos that I see growing inside of you. I need to take you, ravage you over and over again. I want to hear the loudness of the pleasure I can give you as it escapes from your pretty lips. I want to feel the scratches on my skin that you’d leave as I enter your tight body. I want to watch as the storm heightens, as I make you mine.”

I moaned even though he wasn’t touching me. His words penetrated me harder than he ever could. My body responded, wetness filled my core as my nipples hardened beneath the soft cotton of the T-shirt. He knew it, too. His eyes feasted on my flesh, his hand lifted to skim lightly over my puckered nipple.

Our bodies could be skin on skin, and I’d still want him closer. It terrified me. I think it made him afraid as well. This reaction we had to each other wasn’t normal; it was like two storm fronts meeting and colliding, out of control.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked softly as he lifted the shirt, exposing the taut peaks of my nipples to his greedy gaze.

“Lucian,” I whimpered as his fingers pinched my nipple hard.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he growled, as if he didn’t like the idea that he thought I was beautiful at all. “I should end this infatuation I have with you,” he whispered as his head dipped and his teeth nipped at my nipple, stealing a mixed cry of pain and pleasure from my lips. He smiled against my flesh, and his mouth moved up to claim my lips as his heavy erection rested against my stomach. He kissed me hard, hard enough that I was sure our souls were briefly connected. His hand slipped down, cupping my heat. “You should run from me, sweet witch. I’m a one-way ride to the dark side, and there’s no return ticket home. Not that I’d let you go once I had you, anyway,” his seductive tone sent a chill through me.

“I ache,” I admitted, and watched as his lips curved into a dangerous smile.

“I know, and there’s nothing you will do about it. You won’t pleasure yourself, or allow another man to touch what is mine, do you understand me?” He growled forcefully. “You are mine until I decide what to do with you.”

“I am yours,” I repeated, with the meaning of the words slamming into my brain immediately after. I blinked and shook my head even as his mouth lowered to mine, his cocky smile sure that he’d won.

“Say it again, my little witch,” he ordered as his mouth prevented mine from doing as he’d demanded. His hungry mouth scorched mine, sending a wave of primal desire and heat searing through my body. The moment he ended the kiss, he sat back, waiting for me to follow his request.

“I am
not
yours,” I cried out through clenched teeth, with a glare that took a lot of effort to perfect. “I don’t know what you are doing to me, but it stops now.”

He smiled, and shook his head. “You’re stronger than I thought,” he said softly with a wild look in his eyes as something darker passed behind them. “You’re going to be fun to break,” he whispered as he lowered his head yet again, but this time I turned away from his mouth. That thing was dangerous.

He laughed coldly and held his hand against my chin, turning my face back to his with enough pressure that it was painful. “You should have stayed away when you had the chance; it’s too late now,” he whispered against my ear. “I’ve decided to have you, and you can lie to yourself, but your body will always tell you the truth. You want me as much as I want you; watching you fight it will be entertaining, sweet girl.” He released me, sat back until he was on the edge of the bed. His eyes swirled with black fire, and I gasped at their beauty. “Now, when I say so, you’ll remember everything about tonight except for the last five minutes. You will understand that I used a truth spell on you, to see if you were involved in the attacks if you remember this at all, otherwise, you’ll remember me being gentle to you, and tending to your injuries.”

“How many times have you done this to me?” I whispered angrily. How the hell
could
he do this to me? How many times had he?

“Forget what I told you to, now,” he said, and I blinked, struggling to remind myself not to forget.

“Lucian,” I whispered, blinking as his hand trailed down my arm; the soothing cream was thick in his palm as he applied it.

“How’s the pain?” he asked, his eyes lifting to hold mine.

“It’s fine,” I replied. “Did I pass out?” I continued, watching as his lips twitched as if he struggled to hold back a smile.