Velvet Cataclysm: Princes of the Underground, Book 1 Page 15
He unbuttoned his jeans, his eyes never leaving her face. He cupped his aching balls and resituated them over the leather harness he wore to secure his heartluster to his thigh. His face tightened in a grimace when he fisted an erection so tight, so full, it felt ready to burst through the skin. He came down over her and kissed her lips lightly. He groaned at the sensation of his sensitive cock-tip next to her warm, juicy slit. He pressed.
It took some effort to work his way into her tight channel. By the time he was sheathed completely, he sweated and panted from the energy he expended not to blast his seed into her in what felt as if it would be the most powerful orgasm he’d ever experienced.
She gloved him like she’d been tailor-made for his cock—sleek, wet, tight. Her vitessence vibrated wildly around her, flowing into him…energizing him, enlivening him. It must have given him the strength he required not to give in to his almost overwhelming desire to give her his seed then and there.
He gritted his teeth as he began to pump.
He lost himself in Christina, lost himself in the rich, golden minutes that stretched into another dimension. A cocoon of sunshine and the essence of Christina encapsulated him. His desire was so raw, so painful, it felt like an open wound. But, just when it became unbearable, Christina’s vitessence filled him, soothed the emptiness…magicked his flesh to life.
He drank her in greedily. Her vitessence crackled and sparked as he fucked her—hard now, demanding. He braced himself on his hands and stared at her face as he drove into her again and again. He took and he took…more than he’d ever taken…more than he’d taken from his Iniskium victims, who he’d drained of all life. Yet, her energies continued to flow into him in pounding waves.
She clenched his cock as she climaxed. Her vitessence slammed into him with the strength of an energy tsunami. He fell on her in mindless need. Her blood was rich…so sweet. He drank it while his cock jerked viciously inside her tight sheath, shooting his seed to her farthest reaches.
He became conscious by slow degrees that everything had gone fuzzy, like he experienced the world through an insulating barrier. Sweat rolled into his eyes, the salt burning him. He blinked in rising awareness and slowly withdrew his fangs from Christina’s throat.
Her face had gone pale beneath her sex-flushed, pink cheeks.
“Christina?” he asked shakily. But she didn’t stir from her deathly stillness.
He groaned in misery. He’d drained her. Not completely—but he’d harmed her nonetheless. He fell on her in desperation. His mouth fastened on her parted lips. It was a kiss only in the strictest definition. He poured energy back into her, transfusing her with the vitessence that he’d stolen.
Eventually, he felt the steady glow of her vitessence once again. Her color returned and her breath became soft and even.
He lifted his head. He’d nearly murdered the most exquisite thing he’d ever experienced. His cock was still swollen inside her. He couldn’t run, couldn’t escape the evidence of his foul deed.
He stared at her while he steeped in horror and regret. When the swelling of his cock dissipated sufficiently, he withdrew from her, his face tightening in anguish at the reawakening of his hunger.
After he redressed her, he waited covertly outside the entrance to the clearing, ensuring that she wasn’t bothered while she finished her nap. When she left a half hour later, she wore a dazed, uncertain expression that cut at him deeply. Saint recalled how he’d wanted to make her smile last night when she’d seemed so sad after her breakup with her boyfriend.
He hadn’t made her happy, maybe, but he’d brought her pleasure. Sexual gratification was one of the few things a parasitic creature like him could give a human.
But he could never again give Christina sexual pleasure. Perhaps next time he wouldn’t be able to stop taking from her…and taking…and taking.
Chapter Eighteen
Alison paused in the process of searching in Christina’s bathroom vanity cabinet for Children’s Tylenol. She turned around abruptly, her hand flying to the back of her neck. She looked around nervously, but saw nothing out of the ordinary.
She was completely alone in the coach house. The sensation of air flowing across the skin of her nape must have been her imagination. She’d felt so secure up at Whitby earlier, but now all the frightening memories of what had occurred in the tunnels came back to her in graphic detail.
She turned around and grabbed a bottle. Christina had requested the liquid form of the fever reducer, concerned that Aidan wouldn’t wake up sufficiently to swallow a pill. Alison was still confused by what had occurred in Aidan’s room tonight, but Christina had said she would try to explain later. Alison agreed that getting something from the coach house to help Aidan needed to be the priority.
She really liked that kid, she thought regretfully as she walked out of the bathroom.
“You betrayed me, little songbird.”
The bottle of Tylenol thumped on the wood floor in Christina’s bedroom.
“I didn’t. I wouldn’t, Master.”
She began to shiver uncontrollably in the empty, dead silence that followed. Alison clamped her eyes shut when a pain lanced through her skull. Teslar’s voice sounded rich and clear in her mind. He’d never spoken to her telepathically before and she was shocked when she instinctively responded in kind. She didn’t know for certain if he’d heard her, but she had a funny feeling he had.
Something swelled in her breast and it took her a moment to recognize the feeling as pride. She could read minds, just like Christina. She was special, regardless of what Saint said.
“I suppose it’s impossible for you to have intentionally betrayed me, weak human that you are. But you allowed yourself to be swayed by my clone’s ascendancy, and I’ll have to punish you severely for that,” Teslar said, his tone irritated and slightly bored.
“What are you doing?” he snapped.
“I was…I was getting some Tylenol for Christina.”
“The woman?” Alison stiffened when she heard the greed that laced his tone. “Tell me where she and the boy are. What’s my annoying clone doing? Tell me everything, little pet.”
Several pain-filled minutes later, Alison left the coach house. She gave a sharp shriek of alarm when a large hand wrapped around her upper arm and jerked her around.
“What’s the hurry, tiny morsel?”
She gasped at the sight of Isi staring down at her from his great height. The moonlight showed his one black eyebrow raised in a mocking expression. His dark hair fell forward on his brow. Even though he technically looked only five or six years older than her, his lancing stare and rigid features made her feel like a child. The knowledge that he was really centuries older than his face revealed intimidated her.
“Let go of me, you animal,” she seethed. But, instead of releasing her, he urged her closer. Alison felt his heat penetrate the exposed skin of her belly.
“You don’t know the meaning of good sex until you’ve had a wolf,” he taunted softly.
“You don’t know the meaning of good sex until you’ve had Teslar.”
“Too bad the price of it is your life. Are you really that stupid?”
Alison laughed. “Maybe I’m that smart. Maybe not one of you paranormal superjocks knows a thing about me.”
He squinted at her in the darkness.
“I know something about you.”
Something lacing through his deep, low voice made her pause. Had he just dropped his head closer to her upturned face?
“What do you know about me? That I think you’re an asshole? Brilliant deduction.”
He continued as if she’d never spoken. “I know your scent. I know you were afraid just now in the coach house.” His voice dropped a decibel. She found herself straining up to hear his quiet words. Her bare belly brushed against the fly of his jeans. He was hard. She swayed closer, liking the tickling, burning sensation in her lower abdomen.
“I know you’re getting turned on right now,”
he added.
Her head snapped back.
“Dream on,” she replied caustically.
For a moment, he didn’t speak. Alison heard her blood pounding loudly in her ears in the tense silence. She gasped in surprise when he suddenly shook her. Hard. Her hair flung into her face and her brain rattled in her skull. Her groin batted repeatedly against his hard thighs, his cock thumping against her abdomen.
“What were you doing in the coach house for so long?” he seethed. “I saw you standing up in Christina’s room like you’d been frozen.”
“Let go of me, you spaz!”
He stopped shaking her and leaned down until their mouths were only inches apart. “If I discover you’ve been conspiring with Teslar or have betrayed Saint…if I find out that you’ve been playing the fool by sacrificing your life wantonly, I’ll make you regret it. I don’t know why the hell I should care one way or another, but I’m personally insulted by the idea,” he snarled.
Alison strained for air when she saw his extended fangs.
“Let go of her, Isi,” Saint growled.
Alison stumbled out of Isi’s hold when he suddenly released her. She didn’t know how Saint had gotten there all of a sudden, but she was thankful for his powerful presence.
Wasn’t she?
“You’ve got a bunch of whack-jobs for followers, Saint,” she said before she passed his tall, forbidding shadow and ran like hell for Whitby.
Christina’s muscles tensed when she heard someone enter Aidan’s room. She didn’t want to see Saint right now. She was so disoriented by what had occurred, still existing in a numb shock that Aidan had transformed into a wolf. Her heart kept insisting that Saint would never harm her son, but if that were the case, what the hell had she just witnessed? Even if Saint weren’t directly responsible, he’d somehow tainted Aidan.
She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it was Alison who entered the room, carrying a bag with the items she’d requested. Her brow furrowed in concern as the girl drew nearer.
“Alison, what’s wrong? You look like you just saw a ghost.”
Alison gave a bark of laughter and shook her head as if to clear it. “I didn’t see a ghost, but these grounds are dark at night…and…and creepy.”
“Thanks for going,” Christina murmured as she opened the bag.
“Do you want me to fill that up with water for you?”
“Yes, please,” Christina said gratefully, handing the girl the large plastic cup with a lid and straw. “The kitchen is on the opposite side of the hallway from the entertainment studio.”
Alison nodded, her eyes looking huge in her pale face. Christina regretted the girl’s involvement in all this drama and danger, but there was no way to resolve it for the time being. She brushed Aidan’s damp hair off his brow.
For now, the only thing she could consider was her son.
“Christina, why did you act like it was something Saint did that made Aidan sick?” Alison whispered hoarsely a half hour later. They both sat at the edge of Aidan’s bed. Christina had lifted his head and managed to get down most of the Tylenol. Aidan’s eyes had fluttered open when she’d poured a little ice water into his mouth, but he’d almost immediately fallen back into a deep sleep.
Christina closed her eyes, making them water and burn. She didn’t think she could put the truth of Aidan’s transformation into a wolf into words. Maybe she was afraid if she spoke it out loud, it would make it true.
“I don’t know if he’s responsible or not. He says he isn’t.”
Alison glanced warily at the closed door. “Are you having second thoughts about trusting him? You guys were all hot for each other earlier this evening. If pheromones had weight, you would have been swimming in a sea of them.”
Christina couldn’t suppress a groan when she thought of her and Saint’s impassioned lovemaking. How could something so horrific follow so closely on the heels of something so wonderful?
“I’m getting creeped out by staying here, Christina. It’s like Saint is keeping us prisoner or something.” Alison leaned toward her and whispered conspiratorially. “I think we should try to escape Whitby.”
Christina sighed and grabbed Aidan’s limp hand. “Aidan’s not going to be going anywhere for a while, Alison. And that means I’m not.”
Later, Christina cracked open a gritty eyelid.
“What the—”
She flung herself off the bed, glancing around the dawn-infused bedroom.
“Aidan is with Fardusk.”
She spun around to a corner of the room, following the direction of that low, resonant voice. Saint sat in an upholstered chair, his long legs bent at the knee, his thighs spread. His eyes seemed to glow in the shadows as he watched her.
“His fever?” she demanded
“Broken.”
He uncoiled his long body from the chair and stood. He wore a pair of jeans and a gray T-shirt. Even though she was angry at him, and wary of his intentions, Christina couldn’t help but admire the sleek, animal-like grace of his movements as he came toward her. When he got several feet away, she stepped back.
He planted his scuffed, black leather boots on the spot. A ripple of emotion went through his face at her defensive gesture.
“Fardusk has begun teaching Aidan about his animal nature and how to safely shift.”
Tears burned her eyes. It hadn’t been a dream. Her son really was a wolf, in addition to being a boy. Strange, but what had seemed impossible in the night—terrifying even—seemed somehow graspable in the morning light.
She had always known Aidan was special. Now she knew he was unique beyond her wildest dreams. Anxiety filled her chest cavity for what the future would bring, but she no longer felt overwhelmed with fear for her son.
“Who is Fardusk?” she asked Saint flatly.
“He is the leader of the Iniskium. A friend… Someone to be trusted.”
Christina straightened her spine and thrust out her chin. “I’m so glad there are those you can trust. It’s not a luxury I share.”
His face stiffened and he stepped toward her. Again she took a step back.
“And will Aidan be a vampire as well?” she asked shrilly.
Saint spread his hands in front of him and shrugged in a helpless gesture. “I wish I knew. Aidan’s nature is unique. Not even Kavya knows precisely what strengths he will possess, what parts of him will manifest as wolf, what parts human, what parts Magian.
“I asked Kavya to examine him this morning before Fardusk took him for his lessons,” Saint continued. “He says that Aidan is the healthiest child he’s ever seen. His unique biology will make him exponentially stronger. He won’t get ill, as other children do. His immune system has strengthened way beyond human capacity. From what I’ve observed, his eating habits haven’t changed. He ate half a pound of bacon and ten pancakes for breakfast, but you have to admit…that’s not too far off his usual quota for the past six months.”
When she didn’t return his small smile, he added, “We will watch him closely, Christina. If he does show signs of craving vitessence, we will teach him how to control his hunger, have little doubt of that. I would rather Teslar gained ascendancy over me than allow Aidan to burn in the same fires of remorse that I have suffered.”
The irksome tears once again stung her eyes when she sensed Saint’s earnestness in trying to alleviate her anxiety, even when he himself was far from certain. The knowledge that he floundered in these bizarre circumstances as much as she did made her angrier for some reason. He might not have bitten Aidan, like she’d accused him of last night, but he still was responsible. He was the one who was supposed to be super-powerful. He didn’t have a right to be worried or anxious or…was that guilt she felt swirling around amongst his other emotions?
“How could you let this happen? How did it happen?” The words burst out of a throat that was constricting with emotion.
His blue eyes looked shiny as he regarded her. Did Saint actually have the ability to cry? s
he wondered dazedly. He entreated her with his gaze. She took another step back in her rising confusion, then found herself stepping toward him when she sensed his desperation. Their gazes held. A feeling like hot, flowing, molten metal began to spread in her belly.
She realized tears were pouring down her face. She stood there stupidly as Saint came closer. One arm encircled her, his scent enfolded her, causing a flood to spill from her eyes. He gently dried her cheeks with his fingertips, patiently continuing when more fell to replace them.
“I have no excuse for what I’ve done, Christina. I couldn’t resist you. The gods know I tried, but it was like ordering myself not to breathe.”
His gruff voice rumbled close to her ear, causing shivers to race down her spine. She leaned forward, placing her forehead on his solid chest.
“Aidan is ours?” she whispered. It was really more of an incredulous statement than a question.
“Yes. I only just learned of it last night, after he shifted. Kavya told me. I was as shocked as you.”
She lifted her head and gazed up at him solemnly. After a taut moment, she blinked.
“I was going to ask you if Kavya somehow created Aidan in his laboratories like he did you, but he didn’t. Did he?” she whispered.
Saint’s mouth fell open. She could almost feel the words scalding his throat and tongue, his guilt infusing the truth like an acid.
“You don’t have to say it. I already know, Saint.”
He looked taken aback. “Since when?”
“Since just now. I saw the truth in your eyes.” She took a deep breath. “But I think I knew before as well. Maybe the truth was never fully in my consciousness. It was like a shadow I’d see out of the corner of my eyes. Something I couldn’t fully understand. I remember it now.”
She glanced up at him when he stiffened.