The Vampire's Bride (Atlantis #4)(58)

Her gaze lowered to his huge erection, straining so proudly against his pants. She had to touch it, had to taste the head peeking from the waistband, had to taste the seed glistening there.

"Have you?" she asked him, hoping her sarcasm hid how much power he had over her just then.

His lips twitched. "How many have you had?"

"One," she finally admitted.

"I think I hate him."

What a sweet thing to say. She did not allow herself to consider the fact that Layel truly would hate the man when he learned she'd given herself to a dragon. Perhaps he would hate her, as well. Even more than he already did.

"Did you love him?"

"I thought I did. No, not true. I thought I could." How could she broach the subject of his mate without infuriating him again? "You have loved before."

He nodded. "Yes. Two hundred years ago, she was my everything." The moment he spoke, all hint of drunkenness left him. His color remained high, but was no longer soft. Every inch of him hardened. He jumped away from her as if she were poisonous. "Is my everything. Is still."

He said that while Delilah's arousal glittered on his fingers.

Her own sense of possessiveness sparked with renewed life, even while her fervent arousal chilled. "She is dead."

Though he had just fed, his fangs descended over his bottom lip. A lip stained red with her blood. "You will not speak of her. Ever."

"And if I do?" Delilah challenged, jumping up. Boneless as they were, her knees almost gave out. Somehow she managed to remain standing.

"I have dealt with you gently so far. Do not force me to change that."

"Gently?" She laughed, the sound bitter. "You have hurt me at every turn."

He flushed. With embarrassment? Regret? "Speak of her again and I will not only kill you, I will slaughter your entire race."

Far from cowed, Delilah refused to back down. The man had grieved for two hundred years. He might wish he had died with the woman, but he hadn't. And as far as Delilah was concerned, it was past time he began living again. "Like you've done with the dragons?"

He was in her face a split second later, breath hissing over her nose and lips. Despite everything, she wanted to jerk him closer, shove her tongue into his mouth and taste more of him. She might even bite, so fierce was her need.

"You have no idea of what you speak, so shut your mouth. I did not lie. I did not exaggerate. All of you, even the child queen you spoke of so fondly, will die by my hand."

Fury and disbelief fought for control inside her. "My blood is even now coursing through your body and you dare threaten me and those I love? That is low, even for you."

The electric spark in his eyes died. "I am a king. I do whatever I wish, whenever I wish."

A mirror of her earlier thoughts, but she didn't like them coming from him. "Even a king can be made into a slave."

"So you hope to enslave me, do you? Now the truth is revealed. An Amazon to the core. Give the vampire your blood and watch him beg for more. Is that it?"

"That's not - "

He cut her off with a low snarl. "Know now that I will never beg you for anything, Amazon."

Finally she allowed herself to step closer to him. Still she didn't grab him, didn't kiss him. "That's what you said about drinking from me. How did I taste?" she finished with a smugness she wished to the gods she felt.

His eyelids narrowed to dangerous slits. "I think it will be best if we avoid one another. As I've suggested all along."

"I was about to say the same - " Her knees buckled. She collapsed on the ground, her head seeming to fly to the heavens, an ache in her temples. Groaning, she massaged them. What in Hades had just happened?

Layel cursed under his breath and scooped her up.

"Let me go," she managed to say, though it was breathless, insubstantial.

"You don't really want me to let you go, Delilah."

A mortifying truth. "What's wrong with me?"

"I must have taken too much." He might have added, "I've never tasted anything so rich, so good," but she couldn't be sure. The words were more of a rumble than anything.

"Bastard. I've never fallen before." And she did not like that she had now. With this man watching. And though she might like being in his arms, she couldn't forget the hateful things he'd said to her. "Put me down. Now!"

"Whether or not you've fallen before, if I put you down, that is exactly what you'll do. Again."

"That's a chance I'm willing to take."

He dropped her legs first, and she immediately regretted her demand. Until a cool caress of air hit her bottom half, she hadn't realized how warm he'd made her. Still. She planted her feet on the solid foundation and locked her knees, determined to remain upright no matter the cost.

That's when Layel released her completely, tsking under his tongue.

Like a wave in the ocean, she glided forward without the strength to stop herself. Silent, he wrapped his arms around her and held. Simply held. When she heard the strong gallop of his heart, she relaxed. Didn't try to pull away. Just listened. Slowly, so sweetly, his hands stroked up and down her spine.

She'd expected him to push her away. At the very least to say he'd told her so. That he did neither...Would she ever understand this man?