Lord of the Vampires. Gena Showalter
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As if she’d been born for him, and him alone. Or bespelled. But even the thought of magic couldn’t dull her desire for this man. The desire was somehow as familiar as his scent.
“I’m not taking off my robe. Or my panties. We just met. That would be, uh, tacky.” Idiot. “I’m trusting you to keep your word. And I’m only doing this for answers,” she lied.
“Don’t care why. Just want to feel you.”
Slowly, unsure, she climbed on top of him, placing a knee on each side of his waist. Her robe hiked up, revealing the length of her thighs. Just as slowly, she lowered her body until her female core brushed his erection. She gasped at the contact. He moaned.
This was better than her fantasy. He was hot, so hot. Hard, so hard.
“Talk,” she said, flattening her palms on his chest. Before she did what she’d said she wouldn’t and stripped out of her panties.
He arched up, pressing more firmly against her. They moaned in unison, his heart drumming as erratically as hers. She liked that.
A moment passed. “You said you enjoy puzzles,” he mentioned huskily. His gaze settled on her neck.
Her pulse fluttered, as though happy to have gained his notice. “Yes.”
“We fit together very nicely, don’t you think?”
“Yes.” God. How moronic she sounded. Yes this, and yes that. It was just, he’d fried her circuits. She was on top of him, poised over his cock. And she ached. Ached like a drug addict in need of a fix. Why else would she have practically thrown herself at a vampire?
He waited. When she said no more, he arched his hips again. “What did you want to know, Jane?”
She rubbed against him. An accident, she told herself, and just once, but enough to leave her sweating. “I want … to know … about you. About why you summoned me to free you?” There. She’d found her voice, without panting like she was climbing a mountain. Or a well-endowed man.
“You never said,” she continued. “Do I look like Princess Odette or something?” If so, Odette and Laila must have been an odd sight. The blond giant and the brunette toddler. Jealous? “I mean, you told me that, in everyone else’s mind, I’m their princess.” She rubbed again, harder, but slow, so slow, and impossible to label as accidental. Need drove her. “But when I looked at myself in the mirror, I saw, well, myself.”
Little beads of perspiration formed on his brow as he met her, moving with her. “You look nothing like her. Yes, keep doing that.”
“Then how does your magic work?” The tip of his erection brushed her most sensitive spot, and she moaned. “Why does everyone assume I’m her?”
“When I summoned you, I also shifted my ability to cast illusions to you, projecting Odette’s image.” His chains rattled as he attempted to lower his arms. When he realized he couldn’t, he scowled. “To everyone around you, with the exception of me, you look and sound like her. But gods, you smell divine.”
“So do you.” He’d spoken of intrinsic power. So very, very good … uh, interesting. Getting answers had never been this wonderfully agonizing in class. “Can you remove the illusion?”
The leather of his loincloth was soft between her legs, a startling contrast to his erection, creating a dizzying friction. Her heart hammered against her ribs with so much force, she feared the bones would crack.
She needed to slow down, or she would explode before the conversation ended.
“No, I cannot. Not while we’re together. My power … they did something to me. Bound my abilities in some way, as surely as they bound my body.” He licked his lips, revealing and hiding his fangs. So sharp, so deadly. “Do you like this, Jane? Do I please you?”
So much it scared her. “Yes.”
“Lean down. Kiss me.” Another urge to obey … She stilled instead. Yes. She wanted to kiss him. Yet she knew that if she leaned down, if she kissed the breath out of his lungs as she wanted him to do to her, they would have sex. They wouldn’t be able to help themselves. Look how close she was to begging for it already!
She couldn’t have sex with him. They were strangers. Worse, he was a vampire, a drinker of blood, and she’d studied his kind for research. Oh, God. Talk about a mood killer. If he ever found out, the mood wasn’t the only thing that would be killed.
He wouldn’t find out, she assured herself before she could panic. Wasn’t like she’d tell him, and who else knew? No one. Although he might wonder why she knew more about his physiology than she should. Like the fact that he was alive, and not dead, with the same basic organ alignment as a human.
Besides, she would return home at some point. She hoped. More than that, they were in danger and under a time crunch. She needed answers from him, not pleasure. Not kisses.
Reluctantly she crawled off him and stood beside the bed. Her knees almost buckled. Amazing that she was able to maintain her balance, since her muscles had the consistency of Jell-O.
“Jane?”
She couldn’t look at him. She would cave. He was just so damn beautiful, those eyes so hungry. For her. Plain Jane, as the kids at school had once called her. Already she was tempted to fling herself back on top of him, rubbing her way to ecstasy. The scent of him clung to her. Sandalwood. Delicious. Every time she inhaled, she smelled him, weakening her resolve.
“Can someone else remove the illusion?” she asked, keeping her profile to him. “While we’re together?”
“Why did you leave me?”
“I wasn’t concentrating. I was only …”
“Thinking of me. And sex.”
Her cheeks heated as she nodded.
He uttered a low growl. “If you will not take pleasure from me, at least sit beside me. I would rather have part of you than none of you.”
Said the spider to the fly. A born seducer, this one. Nicolai knew just how to lure, how to tempt. Against her better judgment, she sat. Her fingers brushed his ribs, and the heat of him had her shivering all over again.
“The answer to your question is yes,” he said, gruffer still. “If someone’s power is greater than mine, my illusion can be broken. But do not go around asking for such a thing. You do not want the witches here knowing what was done to you.”
She waited, tense and silent, for him to go on. He didn’t. Finally she gasped out, “You can’t leave it at that. What happens if they discover the truth?”
Another round of silence.
Her heartbeat increased in speed. “What if your magic fails while I’m here?” Again, she waited. He didn’t rush to assure her all would be well. Still no need to panic. Not yet.
“Feed me,” he said, his fangs extending over his bottom lip, “and I’ll strengthen. No one will be stronger than me.” There, at the end, his words were slurred.
One half of her trembled in pleasure, the other half shuddered in fear. The vampires in the lab had fed from bags of plasma. She’d never been bitten. Had never wanted to be bitten. Until now. If anyone could make her enjoy something like that, it was this man.
“I’ll think about it. Now let’s backtrack a little. If you can make anyone look like the princess, why did you summon me specifically?” Why place her in such danger? Not that he’d truly wanted her, and her alone. She recalled his disdain when he’d learned she was merely a human, recalled his surprise. “I asked before, but you never answered.”
He leaned toward her, forcing her fingers to press into his skin. A silent command—and an unrelinquishing demand—for contact. “I did not summon you specifically.”
She’d realized that as she’d