Levet (Guardians of Eternity #9.5)(13)

Mère de dieu, he loved the feel of her softness in his hands.

He was going to love the feel of her breasts in his mouth even more, he decided, tugging the top higher as he dipped his head down to capture the tip of her nipple between his teeth, taking care not to break the fragile skin with his fangs.

He might be ready and eager to complete their mating, but he wasn’t going to risk creating a bond she wasn’t prepared to accept.

She’d had too many things forced on her over the years.

Wrapping his arms around her slender waist as she shivered in pleasure, Elijah teased her tender nipple with his tongue. They groaned in unison.

The taste of her was succulent. As sweet as fresh peaches. And her scent . . .

His cock threatened to explode as her arousal spiced the air.

He wanted to strip off her clothes and take her against the counter.

Or maybe he would lay her across the dining table and feast on her for the next century.

Of course, she might prefer the comfort of her bed, he silently acknowledged as he turned his head to capture her other nipple between his lips.

A soft mattress. Moonlight spilling over her luscious body as he settled between her legs and thrust deep inside her. A locked door to keep out unwelcome intruders.

Oui. The bedroom was swiftly becoming the preferable option.

Lifting his head, he claimed her lips in a kiss that was slow and deep, demanding everything she had to offer. At the same time his fingers threaded in the satin softness of her golden hair.

There was no hurry, he reminded his aching erection. This wasn’t sex.

It was making love in the finest sense.

Her hands drifted up to clutch his shoulders, as if her knees had suddenly gone weak. But even as he was congratulating himself on her sweet capitulation, she was pulling back to suck in an unsteady breath.

“Wait.”

With a low growl, he pulled her back so he could bury his face in the curve of her neck.

“I have waited too long, mon ange.”

She shivered, but despite her obvious arousal she didn’t melt beneath his irresistible touch.

Stubborn female.

“I’m worried about Levet.”

“Don’t be.” He lightly ran his fang along the low neckline of her top, chuckling as she gave a strangled groan. “He can take care of himself.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know that no one interferes in Guild business.” He licked the racing pulse just below her jaw. “Not unless they want to end up dead.”

Her hands pressed against his chest. “You’re not scared of the gargoyles, are you?”

“A challenge, mon ange?”

“A simple question.”

He reluctantly lifted his head to study her flushed face with a resigned amusement.

She wasn’t going to let this go.

Which meant there was no comfortable mattress or lush female curves in his immediate future.

Not until he’d convinced her to forget Levet.

Something he sensed was going to be easier said than done.

“Paris belongs to me, but I have no desire to start an unnecessary turf war with the gargoyles,” he explained in gentle tones, his gaze absorbing the spectacular beauty of her passion-flushed face surrounded by a mane of golden curls. It was the soft blue eyes, however, that pierced his unbeating heart. She’d been to hell and back, but there was an innate purity in her that could never be diminished. Was it any wonder his jaded soul was so fascinated? “Enough blood was shed when I became clan chief.”

She blinked in surprise. He rarely shared his world as clan chief. Why burden her with the darker side of his position?

“You mean when you battled to take the place of the former leader?”

“Oui, and then for the next several decades after claiming Paris.”

She paled. “Decades?”

He grimaced. During those dark days he’d often wondered if he would survive from one night to the next.

“It’s traditional for each demon species to try and kill the new leader of vampires.”

“Why?”

“In part because they enjoy any excuse to try and kill a vampire, but more importantly to make sure a chief is strong enough to keep control of his territory,” he explained. “A weak chief is an invitation for constant upheaval, not only among his clan, but from outside threats. Peace comes from strength.”

“And now?”

He arched a brow, belatedly sensing the tension that hummed through her body.

“Now?”

“Are you safe?”

“A clan chief is always a target,” he admitted, unable to resist outlining her lips with the tip of his finger. “Either from an ambitious vampire who wants to challenge me for my position, or from any number of demons who I’ve pissed off over the centuries.”

“Not hard to believe,” she muttered, although the words didn’t disguise the concern that darkened her eyes.

“Most are convinced the world would be greatly improved if they could remove my head from my body.”

With a gasp, she pressed her hand against his lips, her expression troubled.

“Don’t say that.”

A fierce satisfaction cascaded through his body at her plea. Gently, he pried her fingers from his lips.

“Careful, Valla,” he teased. “Or I might think you care.”