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  But she watched, her glance burning over each bared expanse of his flesh.

  At last naked, he stretched out, coming up on an elbow, turning so his cock pointed toward her, letting her look her fill, hoping she was pleased with how well his body had filled out with the food and care her servants had provided.

  He grew sure of his attraction as her gaze followed the length of his body, lingering over his broad chest, lighting on his taut belly, and then resting on his thickening manhood.

  “I think I’m hungry,” she murmured.

  His cock twitched, and he wondered if she meant to suckle him in the way a whore might pleasure a man. She rose on her knees, shrugged her shoulders and let the robe slide from her, then crawled toward him, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him to his back. Her strength surprised him. Her purpose did not.

  Without a kiss or a single preliminary caress, she spread her thighs over his hips and sank on his sex, taking him deep into her body in a single glide, her inner flesh enclosing him like a wet, heated sheath.

  He hadn’t realized how intensely aroused he was until he erupted, embarrassingly, as soon as she was fully seated, his body shuddering beneath hers. “I apologize,” he said, letting his head sink back against the floor, cursing himself for his weakness.

  Her laughter held no disappointment. “You’ve been long without the comfort of a woman’s body.”

  “An eternity, it seems,” he averred, not wanting to admit he’d never been intimate with a woman.

  “Don’t berate yourself, my knight.” Her eyes narrowed, capturing his glance, seeming to reach inside him and grasp an elusive curl of desire. His cock jerked, his waning erection arrested and filling once again.

  Unbelievably, he was hard in seconds. His staff thickening like a post. Beneath her next deepening glance, he lifted his buttocks from the floor, spearing into her.

  She rose on her knees, giving him room to labor against her. When he would have rolled her to her back, she gripped his shoulders hard and held him in place, her lips curling back in an almost feral snarl.

  Each harsh upward stroke shook her breasts, pushed out her breaths in shallow gasps that gusted against his face. When release seemed imminent, a constriction seemed to grip the base of his cock, staving off the ecstasy threatening to burst. He pumped, tunneling his cock deep into her moist channel, rocking her forward and back until she flung back her head and cried out.

  Only then did the constriction ease and his seed spilled as he trembled and stroked helplessly, endlessly upward.

  When at last she fell to his chest, his hands lifted to slide around her back and hold her close.

  They must have slept like that, her seated on his cock, his hand clutching her hair and her bottom. A rustling sounded behind the curtains and a cool breeze wafted over them. When the curtains parted, his eyes opened to peer up into the steady gaze of a woman.

  She entered, stepping around them, seeming unconcerned to find them intimately entwined. With unbound red hair that fell in shining waves to her hips, she appeared young. Her amber gaze when it rested on them lying locked and naked together didn’t widen with shock. Curiosity lit her expression as Inanna stirred and lifted her head to smile at the woman.

  “Is this the one?” the woman asked, her voice soft, yet throaty.

  Inanna nodded sleepily and pushed back her hair.

  Nicolas began to wonder whether they intended to take him together. He’d heard of such decadent acts, but only imagined them in his wicked night dreams.

  However, Inanna rose from his thighs, letting his cock fall slick and flaccid against his belly. She touched her finger to his mouth, gliding her fingertip along his lower lip. “You will go with her. This is part of our bargain. You will mate with her. When she is done, then we will talk.”

  He nodded, wondering whether he’d have the energy to service this other woman, so relaxed and sated was his body. As strange and wicked as this day was becoming, he wondered if this would be part of his “duties” or just a benefit. He didn’t care. He was free, and they were beautiful.

  Already, he could feel arousal stirring in his exhausted belly. With the red-haired woman drinking in the sight of him, he rose slowly and bent to reach for his clothes.

  The woman clucked, her lips twitching with amusement. “You won’t be needing those.”

  Relieved he hadn’t misconstrued the situation, he let the clothing drop beside his feet and straightened, enjoying the way her cheeks heated and her glance slid shyly away. “Is there no one else about in this house?” he asked, pleased when her gaze returned. “I don’t wish to offend.”

  “You do not offend.” The breathless quality of her voice appealed.

  Passing close to Inanna’s naked body, he threw her a smoldering promise and followed the younger woman out of the door.

  He walked behind her, looking up and down the hallways they passed to see whether they were followed, feeling increasingly foolish with his cock dangling between his legs and a cool breeze licking his naked backside, wondering if this was a joke.

  “I know you must be shocked by her behavior,” the woman said, glancing over her shoulder. “I’ve lived so long with her I’m accustomed to her ways.”

  “Should I not be shocked with your behavior?” he murmured, watching the gentle roll of her hips as she preceded him, wondering at the curves her gown hid.

  A blush stole over her cheeks, and she smiled. “It’s true I’m not so experienced as she, but we are needful women.”

  Needful? A euphemism perhaps for lusty? By God, he hoped so. “Where is my brother?”

  “He’s being shown the crypt and apprised of his new duties.”

  “Are his duties as interesting?”

  She shook her head. “He doesn’t seem to have the temperament, or so I’m told. I haven’t met him.”

  Nicolas nodded. Armand would have bolted for the door, sure the devil’s minions were attempting to lure him into sin.

  Let him assume the guardian duties.

  Other, more pleasurable duties awaited Nicolas. He couldn’t believe his luck. Not a celibate man by nature, but rather due to his brother’s influence, he’d spent years praying for the strength to resist his body’s rampant demands. He’d pleasured himself in private moments. Had fought his carnal nature in secret, hiding his true nature.

  Walking naked behind the woman felt liberating. If it were a sin, he’d be gladly damned. He was a man in his prime. No longer a monk.

  She led him to her chambers where more traditional furnishings filled the room, including a curtained bed with deep, plump pillows and a brazier that burned in the corner, warming the room to a perfect temperature for naked skin.

  “My name is Anaïs,” she said, and smiled, her intense gaze flowing over him and settling on his cock. Her breath paused. The pink of her cheeks deepened to rose.

  Even with his limited knowledge, her fascination told him everything he needed to know.

  Anaïs was a virgin.

  CHAPTER

  12

  Present Day

  Madeleine answered the door dressed in bronze silk pajamas that clung to her petite, feminine form. Her light brown hair fell in waves to her waist, glinting gold in the lamplight. She smelled lovely—perfumed, fresh—ready.

  Nicolas smiled. Simon had to be grinding his teeth in frustration.

  He gave a polite nod to Simon’s “pet” who closed the door quietly behind him. “Madeleine, nice to see you.”

  Her smile seemed a little stiff. “Nice to see you too, Nicolas,” she said, her words soft and precise. “Simon’s hiding in his study.”

  “Hiding?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “He’s avoiding Inanna.”

  “Not very polite of her to linger. The full moon’s nearly past.”

  “She knows she’s intruding on our private time.” She sighed. “But how does one ask a creature like that to leave?”

  “Is she with him, now?”

  “I told
you he’s hiding. She’s dressing for dinner in the guest room,” she said, her nose wrinkling with distaste.

  Nicolas stalked past her in the direction of Simon’s small, cramped study, and not bothering to knock, flung open the door.

  “He said you were pissed,” Simon said, as he sat back in his leather chair, fingering a polished green crystal in his palm.

  Nicolas gave him a narrowed glance. “Who is he?”

  Simon gave a quick shake of his head. “Chessa’s new partner?” he called out a little louder than needed if he’d intended only for Nicolas to hear.

  Nicolas’s hands fisted in frustration. The mage wouldn’t talk while the coven leader was near enough to eavesdrop.

  “You’re feeling…betrayed,” Simon said softly. “I wish you wouldn’t take this personally. This was necessary.”

  Knowing he was too angry to sort through the subtle messages Simon was trying to convey, Nicolas flopped into a chair opposite Simon and stared at him, willing his body to relax. “That thing you leant me, yesterday…”

  “Was exactly what he described to you.” Simon laid down the stone. “You resist believing, even though I’ve shown you unexplainable things, time and again.”

  “You want me to have faith—in you?”

  “Have I ever lied to you?” Simon asked, his gaze steady.

  Nicolas resisted a caustic retort. The mage had never lied, but he had kept secrets. This particular one stuck in his craw because he’d been forced to leave Chessa in Alex’s company. “Should I trust him?”

  “Implicitly.”

  “Since he wears it, should I assume he will be the one entrusted now with the demon’s recapture?”

  Simon’s lips curved. “I’ve known many pasts, but I can’t see into the future.”

  Nicolas felt a tic pulse at the side of one eye. Simon’s deliberately vague and ridiculously mystical answer made him grind his teeth.

  Sensing that was all Simon would offer for now, Nicolas took a deep breath. “I take it Inanna left the estate because of the escape?”

  “She’s taking a personal interest in this matter.”

  Another ambiguous answer that wasn’t an answer. “Is she relieving me?”

  Simon shrugged. “You’ll have to ask her.”

  The last thing Nicolas wanted to do was face Inanna. Although they’d shared many things over the past centuries, he didn’t trust her, didn’t like her interest in his relationship with Chessa. He didn’t trust her motives.

  As if she’d read his mind, the door opened and Inanna swept inside, her exotic sandalwood and musk scent filling the room, her long Eastern caftan tinkling with the tiny golden bells that edged the hem above her bare feet.

  Nicolas’s skin tightened. Already she was throwing out lures. His stomach sinking, he surrendered to the inevitable. “Good evening, Mistress,” he said, rising from his chair.

  Inanna gave him a glowing smile and turned to Simon. “Are you going to linger here,” she said in her singsong tone, “when time with your little bird is so fleeting?”

  With a look of relief crossing his face, Simon gave Nicolas a nod and quickly exited the room.

  “You’ve no doubt received a briefing from Pasqual,” Nicolas said, his hands curling tightly when a wave of arousal assailed him—heavy, throbbing. He was drowning already.

  “My love,” she said, stepping close enough to trail her fingertips along his arm. “I didn’t call you to discuss that creature. Although I’m concerned he’s gained his freedom, I trust you to hunt him down. You did so before.”

  “Then why did you call me away from my investigation?”

  Coming to stand directly in front of him, she held his gaze with her deep brown eyes. The golden halo that surrounded her pupils seemed to glow especially bright this night. “I was curious. Your voice when you spoke of Chessa betrayed a softness, an intimacy I haven’t heard from you in a long, long time.”

  Nicolas stiffened when she leaned close and rubbed her silk-covered breasts against his chest. “Chessa’s coming around.”

  “That’s good. I have need of her.” A small hand slipped between his legs and cupped his erection. “But I want this. Will your affection for the girl come between us, darling?”

  “Of course not, Mistress,” he murmured, closing his eyes as she squeezed.

  “Her scent is all over you…mmmmm…” She rubbed her nose on his chest, breathing deeply. “I find I’m quite hungry.” She tightened her hand around him. “On your knees.”

  As soon as she released his balls, he dropped, unable to do anything but her exact bidding, waiting while she drew her garment over her head, revealing her slim, nude body—dusky skin, black swirls at the apex of her thighs, brown nipples at the center of her soft, full breasts.

  So lovely, his teeth ached.

  So deadly, he shuddered at the thought of her ever finding out how he meant to betray her.

  Her slender fingers cupped his head and pulled him toward her breasts. “Bite me, Nico.”

  His cock pressing hard against his zipper, he came up on one knee and latched onto her nipple, tonguing the tip before drawing it between his lips and sucking hard.

  “I said, bite it.”

  Without any will of his own, his fangs descended from his gums, and he pierced her areola with one razor-sharp tooth while continuing to suckle.

  Inanna’s body writhed against him, her rich scent deepening. For several minutes, they remained like that, his mouth locked around her quivering breast, until her fingers dug into his scalp and pushed him away.

  She grabbed for his shirt, but he leaned away and stripped it off, dropping it behind him. Then he opened his pants, releasing his hot, heavy cock, groaning with relief.

  Her greedy gaze stared at him, her hands kneading her breasts as blood continued to trickle from the small puncture he’d made, trailing down her belly.

  Without being told what she wanted next, he leaned forward and followed the trail of the blood, licking her nipple to close the wound, following the sweet curves downward, past her soft belly to the curling hair covering her mons.

  When his tongue darted between her folds, she lifted her leg, planting her foot in his shoulder and shoved him onto his back.

  Inanna squatted over him, her feet to either side of his hips, her legs drawn up. One dark-winged eyebrow rose to tell him to get on with it.

  Supporting her bottom on one palm, he reached beneath her, slid his fingers into her cunt and swirled in the moisture gathering there.

  He rubbed his wet fingers over the crown of his cock and fitted it to her opening. Her awkward positioning precluded any aid on her part, so he bent his knees, planted his feet in the carpet and lunged upward to impale her, squeezing into the tight opening of her channel, then pounding upward.

  As he labored, his body grew more rigid, his emotions more desperate.

  Inanna smiled. Her breasts jiggled as he thrust upward, her cheeks reddened, but her gaze never left his, seeming to inspect his expression for hints of his inner turmoil.

  Did she suspect his divided loyalties? Was she testing him? Or would she use their relationship to hurt Chessa at some later, more advantageous date?

  At the moment, he hadn’t the intellect to ferret through the bitch’s twisted motives. All he could manage to focus on was the molten heat surrounding his cock and the tension building in his balls.

  When he thought he couldn’t make it last a second longer, another wave of suggestion hit him dead in his cock, choking off his orgasm like a band constricting around the base of his shaft. He gritted his teeth, sweat dripping from his forehead into his hair, his breaths so jagged, he felt as though he’d run for miles.

  “When I say so,” she said softly, flicking his nipple with a long oval fingernail. “I’m not nearly done with you.”

  He groaned and stopped stroking into her.

  Inanna rose, her feet on either side of him, her engorged sex open and pulsing, displayed for his viewing. She lifted h
er foot and placed the sole along the length of his cock and pressed down, the pressure uncomfortable, but not truly painful. “I want you to take me like you take Chessa. Show me.”

  Nicolas closed his eyes while the pressure increased. He hadn’t any real choices here. However, the tender violence he inflicted on Chessa was out of love, out of need to bring her past her walls.

  With Inanna, he’d be pushed not to harm her.

  “All right, but you have to do as I say,” he said, his gaze nailing her.

  “I’m yours, darling Nico,” she purred. She lifted her foot and stood back.

  He rose to his knees, taking deep breaths to fill his lungs with air and his spirit with strength. “I need you on your knees…Mistress.”

  Her chest rose, a lovely, rosy flush of color settling on her high cheekbones. She sank gracefully to her knees, her hands clasping her upper thighs.

  “Face away and rest on your hands.”

  Her laughter bubbled, girlish, lighthearted.

  If he didn’t know any better, he’d swear she was a little nervous having given him the reins. When she’d faced away, her curvy bottom raised, he crawled to her side and forced her shoulders down, until her breasts scraped the carpet. He rested a hand on her rump. “No reprisals?”

  “Did I not command you?” she asked, her voice rising with impatience.

  All the encouragement he needed. He swept her bottom with his palm, fighting the overwhelming urge to let go of his control. He took a deep breath and lifted his hand, letting it fall hard on her soft flesh—so hard his palm stung.

  She squealed and a short, shocked laugh erupted. “I want everything you give her, Nico.”

  He lifted his hand again, striking another part of her ass, then did it again and again, until his palm burned, and her skin glowed. He’d leave bruises he struck her so hard. Inside he cringed, but still felt a perverse satisfaction. The centuries of servicing her, bending to her will, brought out a hatred that wouldn’t let him stop.