The Vampire's Bride (Atlantis #4)(69)

There wasn't a single spark of satisfaction at the thought of her demise, as he would have guessed. There wasn't even relief. The thought of being without her actually saddened him. Yes, saddened, he realized.

Despite what she made him feel when he looked at her, she was lovely. He even liked arguing with her. A few times, she'd even made him smile. She was smart, witty. Lusty. But somehow he'd come to equate her with the suffering of the past, and that had tainted his feelings toward her.

The first time he'd seen her, as a woman, no longer a little girl, he'd been consumed with lust for her. He'd wanted her more than he'd ever wanted another. But the moment he'd approached her, gazing into her eyes, that lust had turned to disgust, the screams of the past consuming him. That had never changed. Why had the past interfered? Did it matter? Escape should be his only concern right now.

For an eternity, he tried to fight his way free of the chains. All he did was cut his skin. What kind of warrior am I? he wondered.

Finally, she returned. Her hair was wet and she was wearing a different robe. A blue one, to match her eyes. Prettier than ever, he thought and closed his own eyes. Instant arousal, but he knew it was only a matter of time before it withered.

"I should now meet even your lofty standards," she said.

Alyssa climbed on top of him, straddling him. She flattened her palms on his chest, the heat of her core, covered though it was by her robe, pressing against his cock. Where she touched, a small blaze kindled. Odd. That had never happened before. Not with her. Why had it now?

"There is much we need to discuss," he said, mind still churning. She hadn't looked any different, and she certainly hadn't endeared herself to him. But for once, there was no flash of blood in his mind, no screams. She stroked his chest like a favored pet. There were calluses on her hands, calluses that evoked a delicious friction.

Suddenly he didn't want her to stop touching him.

"Alyssa," he began, not really knowing what to say.

"Stop talking." Her fingertips never ceased their determined movement, tracing the line of his jaw, his ears, the slope of his neck and collarbone.

His blood heated with a shocking amount of desire. "You are...this is..." His frown deepened. How was she doing this? He opened his eyes to study her, heard a scream inside his head, lost his arousal and quickly closed his eyes again. Silence.

Her face, he realized. Something about it must send him back. But what?

She scooted lower on him, rubbing him once again to readiness. He hissed in a breath as she leaned down and licked him directly on his nipple. It hardened, reaching for more of the hot perfection of her mouth.

"Are you thinking of another woman?" she asked huskily.

Her sharp little teeth scraped the skin surrounding his other nipple, so the only noise that escaped him was a moan. Of pleasure.

She hadn't been this aggressive before. She had bitten him last time, yes, but it had been accidental. Even knowing it, he had nearly slapped her for it. Only his quick reflexes had stopped him.

He'd nearly been drained once, and it had been as painful, horrific and humiliating as having a limb severed. Alyssa had nearly drained him to get him here, and that hadn't been pleasant, either. So the thought of being bitten again should have disgusted him. Except...

Gods, he didn't want Alyssa to stop. He wanted some part of her inside him, taking nourishment, living because he gave her life.

What was happening to his mind, his desires?

She nibbled harder. "Are you?"

"Am I what?" He had forgotten the question, was too busy arching up to meet her mouth.

"Who are you thinking of, Shivawn? What woman's image is in your mind when I do this?" She licked her way down, not stopping until she reached his navel.

His cock reached for her, craving her mouth. Hot, tight, wet. Pumping in and out. Hard. Fierce.

"Tell me and I'll be gentle with you," she whispered before blowing a warm puff on the moisture her tongue had left behind.

"You," he replied honestly. "I see you." And he did. Her heat infused his skin, her silky hair tickled his chest, and he liked it.

Her fingers curled around his cock. Squeezed. His hips surged up, a groan splitting his lips. Where had this tigress come from? Mostly she had been still last time, as if savoring every touch, every sound. He'd thought at the time that he might have been a wee bit charmed if he hadn't been so busy wondering why his body wasn't responding as it should.

He tried to lift his arm to fist her hair, force a kiss, but the chains rattled and pulled tight. "Release me."

"Of course." She released him - just not the way he desired. His cock was suddenly free, hard and aching on his belly. Satisfied she had his attention, she continued, "You don't give the orders here."

She probably meant the words to sound harsh and commanding. She sounded breathless.

"Then touch me again. That's why I'm here, isn't it?"

Before she could reply, he cracked his eyelids open. He did not focus on her entire face, but on one feature at a time, trying to figure this out. He saw the pink tip of her tongue emerge, darting over her lush lips. The sight was amazingly erotic, and rather than losing his erection, his arousal was ratcheted another degree. Her lips weren't the problem, then. He watched her wrinkle her nose. Again, his arousal remained. He gazed into her eyes. The screams returned.