Seduced By Darkness Read online

  She loved Rene. Although he’d chosen to enter a mage’s sanctuary with another Born vampire, Chessa wasn’t over him yet.

  Her feelings for Nicolas were strictly carnal—and she needed to get her libido back under control. Unbridled passion had been unleashed by proximity to Natalie Lambert’s coming into season, as only a transforming Born could inspire. That arousal had spilled over onto Chessa and Nicolas—it was the only explanation Chessa would allow for the strength of the desire that even now made her body yearn toward his.

  Nicolas’s chest heaved, and his eyes narrowed to feral slits. “Don’t deny me. Not now.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “You stink.”

  “Then we’ll shower,” he said, a dangerous edge to his voice.

  As always, his first terse words had her melting. “Tell me why you’re here,” she said, searching for a way to put him off while she shored up her fading resistance.

  Another shake of his head, this time sharp and violent. “Later,” he ground out.

  Then she noted the wildness in his eyes. Something had rattled his cage. Nicolas was never anything but completely in control. Chessa felt the last bit of solid ground crumble beneath her. “All right,” she said softly and held up a hand to ward off a kiss. “But shower first.” He’d have to let her go to follow her.

  However, Nicolas wasn’t giving her the space she needed to regroup. He grabbed the top of her towel and ripped it away, then slammed his mouth on hers, backing her toward the bedroom.

  Chessa’s bare feet skidded on her wood floor as she dug in her heels, but he swept her along, through her bedroom into the bathroom, all the while punishing her lips with a brutal kiss.

  When the edge of the tub brought them up short, he reached behind her and yanked aside the shower curtain. “Turn it on.”

  Dumbly, she reached behind her, fumbling to turn the knob, finally sending a spray of water that misted around them before he lifted her above the rim of her tub to set her inside.

  Nicolas tore at his clothes, dropping them at his feet, then stepped beside her in the stall, crowding her against the cool tile walls. “Any more objections?” he asked, in his oddly rasping voice.

  She shook her head, overwhelmed and mute with rising desire. Her body already strained toward his. Her breasts swelled, her nipples beading tight and hard. Her legs trembled, and her sex released a trickle of fragrant moisture she couldn’t deny.

  His hands reached around her and grasped her bottom, lifting her off her feet, crushing her breasts to his chest, her mons against the base of his rigid cock.

  With his erection pressing into her belly, any objection was obliterated. She flung out her arms and gripped his shoulders, aiding him as he angled her body toward his and thrust his cock between her legs.

  Chessa groaned as he slid inside her. “Bastard, we had a deal.”

  His response was a flex of his hips to thrust hard inside her, tunneling deep, pressing higher until the strength of his hips and cock had her feet dangling above the porcelain bottom of the tub.

  When he’d reached inside her as far as he could, he wrapped his arms around her, squeezing away her breath and laid his cheek alongside hers, his chest heaving.

  She shivered from arousal so strong it nearly choked her and from fear of whatever had shaken Nicolas to his core. She’d never seen him like this. “What is it? What’s happened?”

  His head drew away, and his gaze burned as it slid to her lips. “Later,” he groaned.

  Again, the wildness in his gaze and the tension that gripped his broad shoulders and arms as he held her unsettled her. This wasn’t Nicolas with his sardonic quips and ever-watchful gaze. Accustomed of late to him showing up at unexpected times to tempt her, this was different.

  He was frightened.

  Although tempted to argue, to chide him and try to drive him away, she wound her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist, and pulled him close, dragging his head down to bury against her shoulder.

  If she were honest with herself, she was glad he’d come.

  Not that she was ready to be anybody’s rock. She had problems of her own. A life to sort out. One far away from the vampire enclave at Ardeal.

  Nicolas was entrenched in that life, but she had broken free decades ago and vowed she’d never go back. Whatever was bothering him now wasn’t her problem.

  But she could hold him and let his warmth and strength provide her comfort as well. She had her own needs and a desolate loneliness that had filled her when she’d shut her apartment door hours earlier and realized the only friend she had in the world was lost to her forever.

  “Stop thinking,” he growled.

  “Just fuck me,” she bit out, meeting his hard gaze with a glare of her own.

  Their hips churned against each other in a desperate coupling. Not at all the sexy, teasing pummeling she’d come to expect—that in itself was an indication of his upset. His movements lacked finesse. He gave no thought for her pleasure, which he was always so careful to draw out—torturing her with her own desire.

  Instead, his hands gripped her ass hard, pushing her up and down his cock, grinding her back against the cool tiles as he powered into her.

  When he came, his eyes squeezed tight, his body grew rigid, and he held his breath for one endless moment. After his pulsing release waned, he dropped his forehead against the tiles. “Get out.”

  Surprised at the harshness of his voice, she didn’t question him, just unwound her legs from his waist and slid down his body. She stepped out of the tub to dry herself with a towel while he remained inside, drawing the curtain closed behind him.

  She couldn’t think of a thing to say. Despite the steamy air inside the room, she shivered.

  Damn. It sure as hell felt like she cared about the fact he’d tossed her out of her own shower.

  CHAPTER

  2

  Nicolas pressed his hands flat on the cool tiles and knocked his forehead on the wall.

  He’d screwed up. He’d come for comfort when he knew she was only capable of giving sex. If she wasn’t already running for the door, she’d be ready to throw him out on his ass.

  One look at her wary, green eyes and he’d lost it. Her black hair still dripped where the ends lay on top of her shoulders, rivulets trickling down her pale chest. Naked, except for the lush towel that encircled her lithe, trim body, and freshly fragrant from her shower, he’d pressed relentlessly inside.

  His sly, carefully orchestrated plan to seduce her lay in tatters. He’d watched and waited for her for so long, finally stepping in when she was at low ebb and needful of his particular brand of kink. When her partner had succumbed to Natalie’s sweet first bite, the handwriting had been on the wall, but stubborn little Chessa was nothing if not pig-headed. She’d held out the hope of Rene resisting the allure of the virgin vamp. Even resorting to seducing them both rather than abandon her carefully laid plans.

  Chessa thought herself in love with Rene Broussard and grieved for his loss. Nicolas had made himself convenient, but had been careful never to let her see his need for her, treating their loving with a nonchalance he was far from feeling. He’d discovered her need for submission, sensing it the first time he’d let his anger over her obsession with Rene get the best of him. Chessa had melted like warm chocolate when he’d striped her ass that first time, begging him for release until her voice had grown hoarse.

  Tonight, he’d managed to fuck everything up. He’d bared his emotions, letting her see past the carefully constructed mask.

  The smell of the murky bayou choked him. He swallowed bile that rose up to scald the back of his bruised throat. Dieu! He’d fucked her with sewage still clinging to his skin.

  Nicolas reached for a bottle of bath gel and tipped it over his chest and shoulders—better to smell like gardenias than death. First, he’d clean up, and then he’d see whether he was back at square one with Chessa.

  Beyond his need to slake himself on her body and make things as rig
ht as they could be between them, he needed her on his team.

  Her body still humming, Chessa roamed her bedroom, the question of whether to dress or not revolving in her mind. Yesterday, she would have dressed and snuck out the door, giving him the unmistakable message she was no one’s doormat.

  However, the room was stuffy and hot without air-conditioning or a fan to stir a breeze, and she still ached with unfulfilled lust. She stretched on top of her bed and shoved a pillow under her head to raise it and watch the door for when Nicolas left the bathroom. He’d brought her this far, he’d damn well finish the job.

  She bent her knees and let one drop lazily to the mattress, then raised it again—an indolent wag that kept her mind from racing around the possibilities that had brought him here.

  Not that she was ready to be sucked into whatever hellish quest he was on at the moment. Chessa was just curious.

  And horny.

  Smoothing a hand over her knees, she scraped over the scabs of the rug burns he’d left on her knees the previous night when he’d taken her ruthlessly on a hotel room floor. Right after Rene had followed Natalie through a time portal.

  She thought about Rene and Nat again. A subject she’d been avoiding. That last moment when the couple had stepped through the glowing vertical pool, their hands clasped, their expressions had been happy—at peace with their decision to leave this world behind.

  However tonight, the hollow ache in her chest didn’t seem quite as empty as before.

  The bathroom door creaked, and Nicolas strode out, droplets of water gleaming on his naked skin.

  Did he have to be so damn beautiful? He was a walking, breathing sex god from the tops of his broad shoulders to his ripped abs and muscled thighs. She’d wanted to make Rene her fuck buddy—her love puppy—and keep him on a short leash. Nicolas wanted to hold the lead with her. Didn’t he realize she was Born?

  “You could have used a towel,” she groused, trying to tamp down her instant reaction to his body. No use letting him know just the sight of him was enough to soak her panties—if she’d been wearing any. “You’re dripping all over my floor.”

  One dark eyebrow rose, mocking her in his usual fashion—and raising her blood pressure. “I think it hardly matters, Princess. This place is a mess.”

  Relieved he’d regained his composure, she gave him a slow grin and let her knee drop to the mattress, exposing her pussy fully to his interested gaze. She trailed a finger along the inner curve of her thigh, stopping just short of the curls covering her sex.

  His chest rose. His jaw tightened.

  When his gaze settled between her legs, Chessa teased him with a swirl of her fingertips, dipping just inside her cunt.

  His cock jerked, rousing at the juncture of his thighs.

  Chessa pulled back the hood guarding her clitoris and gave the little knot a scrape with her thumbnail. Just enough to make her breath catch—just enough to draw him closer.

  He crawled onto the end of the bed and gripped her ankles, then roughly jerked her legs wide apart.

  Chessa gasped and her nipples ripened, drawing into exquisitely tight little points. This was the Nicolas who made her burn. The one whose attentions she found impossible to deflect.

  He bent and kissed her knees. “You’re healing nicely,” he murmured. “I’ll have to keep you off them for a while.” His gaze burned a trail up her legs, following the curve of her thigh to stare at her sex. “Have I ever told you that you have a pretty pussy, Chessa?”

  She gave him a narrowed glance. He never gave her compliments.

  “Next time, shave it.”

  Her breath huffed and she played at trying to close her legs, but he held them firm in his strong grasp. His head descended, and his breath swept her moist sex, heating her up, causing more liquid excitement to trickle from her cunt.

  When his mouth opened wide and drew on her lips, her hips rolled, pressing closer, urging him deeper.

  However, he seemed content to nibble and lick—sexy little forays that did little more than tease and raise her temperature. His tongue stroked over her outer labia, wetting her curls, then lapped the tender flesh between the dual lips, tasting her, seeming to savor her flavor since he came back for more.

  Chessa gripped his hair in both hands and tried to center him, aiming his head over her opening.

  He resisted, turning his head to nip her inner thigh. “When I’ve had enough, Chessa.”

  But she couldn’t take any more. He’d primed her in the shower, left her aching and empty.

  Her fingers released their grip on his hair and swept over her breasts, squeezing them, pinching her nipples as her belly tightened and trembled. Her hips ground up and down, seeking penetration, but when he didn’t deliver, she decided to take it for herself and thrust her fingers between her legs, tangling them with his foraging lips and tongue.

  He bit her index finger, then stroked it, tip to knuckle.

  Encouragement enough. She slid it farther down and thrust it inside herself while his mouth coaxed her palm aside to suckle on her clit.

  God, that was it. Just a little more. Her hips slowed, savoring the rise. Her breaths deepened, her sighs turning into moans.

  Then his hand closed around hers and pushed it up her belly. His mouth left her, and he lifted his head. His face was tight, cheekbones honed with passion, his lush lips blurred and moist from her juices.

  But his gaze frightened her, taking her beyond mere sensual thrill. This was why she’d stayed. Only he could reach inside to draw out her deepest fantasies, push every one of her sexual buttons to ignite a burst of super-heated lust.

  Chessa held her breath, knowing her whole body shook in anticipation—something he couldn’t miss.

  She hated when she surrendered power. The harsh, drawn intensity of his expression told her he’d accept nothing less than total capitulation. Her eyelids fluttered down to close out the sight of him. Coward! “Please,” she moaned.

  His hands closed around her legs in a bruising grip and pushed them up and wider. “Hold them,” he ground out.

  With her breasts mashed beneath her thighs, her breaths came in short gusts, but she obeyed, gripping them tight, opening her eyes to watch his fierce expression.

  His hands lifted her ass from the mattress, and he centered his thick cock at her entrance, staring down at her pussy for a long moment as he dipped inside. Then he glanced up to hold her gaze captive as he plunged forward, burying his cock in her cunt.

  On his knees, he flexed his hips forward and back, thrusting hard, stroking her inner walls, cramming deep and swirling his hips to touch on the bundle of nerves inside her channel. Her G-whiz spot crackled and burned with electric excitement.

  Chessa moaned, a thin, feminine sound she couldn’t hold back. Moisture gushed from her inner walls, coating his shaft, easing his entry as he withdrew and stroked back inside.

  He leaned over her, bracing his weight on the backs of her thighs, using her resistance to keep him upright but off-balance to slam into her again and again.

  Liquid seeped from inside her, soaking her sex. Each harsh stroke slapped noisily, wetly. Faster, harder, until he drove the breath from her lungs with the force.

  When her orgasm slammed through her, her thighs stiffened, pressing him back. She let go of her legs and wrapped her ankles around his neck, clasping him tight.

  His hands left her ass and caressed her legs, wide sweeps up and down as he continued to stroke inside, slowing as the pulsing spasms along her channel faded.

  Finally, he reached around his neck and unhooked her ankles, urging her legs to the mattress. He stretched over her, a hand curving behind her neck to lift her head. His eyes glinted in the shadowy light.

  Then he tilted his head, offering his blood.

  Something she’d never shared with him. Something he’d noticed and commented on. Because to Chessa, drinking from someone who mattered was more intimate than sex.

  “Drink from me,” he whispered.
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  She’d resisted the temptation before, knowing the intimacy of the act would only tighten their bond. They lived worlds apart. A good thing, when she sensed he intended to breach every one of her walls. She wasn’t ready to surrender too much of herself ever again.

  “Drink,” he rasped.

  Her incisors slid down at his command. Their bodies still joined, she shivered, knowing he was asking her to cross a threshold in their relationship.

  She murmured, nuzzled his neck, then opened wide to sink her teeth into the jugular vein pounding just under his skin. His salt and copper flavors filled her mouth, flooding her tongue, and she swallowed.

  Better than cum, better than the musky flavor of his sweat-slick skin. He smelled of almonds, tasted of Revenant—minion. That’s how Inanna, the leader of the coven, treated him—how she saw all of his kind.

  But Chessa knew better because of the force of his personality, his intelligence, and strength of will.

  Nicolas smelled and tasted like heaven.

  He tasted like hers.

  That thought jarred her back to reality. Her eyes slammed open and she disengaged her teeth, licking to close the twin wounds she’d made. He wasn’t hers. He was just a convenient fuck.

  She licked droplets of his blood from her lips and settled her head on the pillow to look up at him, trying to pretend he hadn’t shaken her. “You didn’t come.”

  His lips stretched slowly in a wicked grin. His eyes narrowed. “You know missionary isn’t my thing.”

  She sucked in a deep breath. Nicolas liked it nasty.

  Her vagina tightened around his cock as she realized he was far from through. He’d trained her better than Pavlov’s dogs.

  The trembling started again as her whole body tightened in anticipation. “I’m late for work.” She tried to inject resentment in her voice, but even to her own ears, she sounded breathless, eager.

  Nicolas leaned down, and his mouth opened over hers. Their tongues met first and dueled. Then Nicolas drew hers into his mouth and bit it, slicing deep with a razor-sharp fang. Blood seeped into their mouths. Only then did he seal his lips over hers, showing her this coupling wouldn’t be gentle.