Blood Price (11 page)

Immediately, Nikia led Atar to the bed, taking her arm from his waist as he dropped onto the thin mattress. In seconds, he had fallen back with his head on the pillow. His eyes closed, indicating he was well on his way back to Dreamland for a time. She didn’t mind at all, as she contemplated her escape.

Guilt at her thoughts had her jumping with surprise when a knock sounded on the door. She clutched her chest and hurried to it, opening it only a slit, to see who stood on the other side. Maria stood in the hall, with an armful of something and she opened the door wider.

The other woman thrust garments into her arms, along with an extra pillow, a cake of what looked like homemade soap and two towels. “Thank you.” Nikia bobbed her head in an attempt to communicate her gratitude.

With another silent nod, Maria closed the door behind herself, presumably moving down the hallway to the lower level. Nikia listened at the door until she heard footsteps moving away. Then she bolted the flimsy lock and dropped the items on the small table. Lifting the chair, she carried it to the door and wedged it under the knob, taking little reassurance from the added security measure, which seemed like no deterrent at all.

At the bed, Nikia examined Atar, listening to his deep breathing and finding a steady pulse beating under her fingers when she touched his neck. His sleep state was somewhere between drugged and natural. She had to make her escape soon but what would Ivan and Maria think if she left right now? How could she explain the circumstances to them without earning their disbelief and possible fear? But if Atar recovered before she could leave, her last chance at escaping would slip away.

She drew her lower lip into her mouth and sucked lightly while considering the situation. As she mulled it over, her eyes scanned the room, falling on the ties for the drapes that were currently closed. She stood up and walked to them, touching one hesitantly. It was speckled with dust and tickled her nostrils when she lifted it. The material itself was heavy and well-constructed, some kind of woven linen. She tested it experimentally, grasping one end in each hand and tugging. Satisfied with its resistance, she removed the other tie as well and went back to Atar, who snored softly. She acknowledged the dart of delight as she bound one of his wrists to the iron headboard with the thick tie. Let him see how it felt to wake up tethered to a bed, vulnerable and disoriented. The pleasure the thought gave her lasted through binding his other wrist and testing the fastness of the knots. A tiny part of her wished he would waken soon, so she could see his reaction. The sensible part of her knew it would be best if he slept through the night, not waking until several hours after she had gone. She would let him worry about what to tell Ivan or Maria when they came to free him.

Remembering her plan, she searched his pockets methodically, removing his wallet and a wad of folded documents. She opened the papers, relieved to find her passport with his, along with arrest papers granting him authority over her. With a grimace, she tore the document in small pieces, leaving it lying on the bed. After flipping through his wallet, finding a few hundred Euros and a Platinum MasterCard issued to those in service of the Protector of Corsova, she took it and her passport over to the table, leaving them beside the bundle Maria had brought. Anca would be financing her escape.

As Atar slept on, Nikia stripped off the hotel uniform and filled the basin with cold water from the pitcher. With thorough attention, she wiped away the blood belonging to the man whose nose she had broken. The soap was rough but had a pleasant orange scent and lathered well.

Once she was clean, she took a towel from the bundle and found a sleeping gown. She eyed it while drying her face and hands then lifted it and smiled. It must belong to Maria. It would swallow her frame, while ending several inches short of her ankle but it was clean and soft. Nikia slid it over her head before turning her attention to the jumpsuit. She worked on the bloodstains with the homemade soap and cold water, making little progress. It would see her out of the tavern in the dead of night but she would have to find something else to wear as soon as she could. With a pang, she remembered the new wardrobe purchased in Zurich and now abandoned at St. George, along with the bankroll that had financed it. She was tempted to return to the hotel to retrieve her belongings but fear stayed the thought. What if she was wrong about Atar being the target? The men didn’t seem to want her but if she had assumed incorrectly, returning to the hotel would be placing herself back in their hands. She had to accept the passport and money were gone.

Thinking about the situation brought a return of the migraine, which had lowered previously to a dull ache. She shrugged slightly, trying to dismiss her worries in hopes of easing the pain. There was a similar cache awaiting her in the Cayman Islands. Once Illiana was deposed, she could make her way there, retrieve the stash and identity and disappear…if Atar would let her.

She glared at him as a yawn overwhelmed her. She stifled it with a hand and eyed the bed. There was enough room for her to lie down, if she bunched herself into a ball. Chances were, she wouldn’t even sleep anyway, being too edgy from the night’s events. Her body clamored for rest. The return of her migraine proved Illiana was struggling to find a hole in her defenses again. Besides, she didn’t relish the thought of standing for the next few hours and the chair was wedged under the knob. Atar probably wouldn’t wake up and he’d never know she had lain beside him for a few hours. What harm could there be in lying with her eyes closed for a short time, to fortify her mental defenses?

Chapter 8

The bed’s movements woke Nikia. She was disoriented for half a second, not remembering where she was, although relieved to note the headache had faded to a manageable level again.

The confines of the dim room were frightening until the sleep-induced fog in her mind lifted. Her thoughts cleared and she turned her head to look at Atar, identifying him as the source of the creaking springs. Her eyes widened when she saw the way he was struggling against the bonds, grunting with the effort. Her tongue acted before her brain. “I tied them pretty tight. I don’t think you can get out.”

He turned his head to glower at her. Rage brought the faintest hint of color to his clear eyes, giving them a shadow of gray. “What kind of game is this, Nikia?”

She sat up, stretching to relieve the kink in her back from sleeping at an awkward angle—half-draped over Atar. She winced at the betrayal of her subconscious that led her to seek his body with hers. “It’s no game. I’m just ensuring I have the upper hand.”

He snorted. “Sure and you’re not enjoying watching me squirm, trying to free myself?”

She shrugged. “Yeah, a little. It is fitting retribution, don’t you think?”

“Hell, no!” He tugged against the drapery ties more forcefully. “Untie these right now.”

Nikia ignored him, rising from the bed. The need to empty her bladder sent her to the door, much to Atar’s increasing anger. She tuned out his snarled words as she moved the chair and eased open the door, peeking out. No sound came from below and heavy snores farther down the hall indicated someone slept. She matched the intensity of the snores to Ivan, unable to picture the tiny Maria producing such large ones. She had fallen asleep with the slippers on and they cushioned her feet from the knotholes and splinters in the boards of the hallway when she stepped out, closing the door behind her to muffle Atar’s outrage. She moved down the hall in the direction of the snores, hoping the bathroom wasn’t attached to Ivan and Maria’s room. To her relief, the first door she came to led to a freestanding bathroom, of which she made grateful use.

In the mirror while washing her hands, Nikia looked up and caught the sparkle of desire in her eyes. Away from Atar, she could acknowledge how her breasts ached and her stomach clenched. In sleep, her body had dropped its defenses and embraced its need for him.

She looked away from her eyes and finished up, leaving the small bathroom as she had found it before returning to Atar. In the room, she bolted the door again and put the chair under the knob. He had fallen silent and she turned to the bed, expecting to find Atar a sullen captive. The breath left her when a body plowed into hers, the momentum carrying her to the bed. An involuntary scream tried to erupt from her throat but a hand clapped over her mouth prevented it. She breathed in, recognized Atar’s scent and immediately regained her calm. She was in no immediate danger.

She whimpered and reconsidered when he rolled her over and straddled her. His expression revealed the depths of his anger, clearly warring with his desire. She held her breath, not certain if he would throttle or kiss her.

“Damn you,” he whispered, as his head lowered. His mouth claimed hers in a fiery, urgent kiss that sizzled with his lingering anger.

She melted against him, losing all resistance. This was what she had wanted from the start, to have Atar holding her, making love to her. Even his enmity couldn’t convince her to end the interlude. Her desire was too strong, damn the consequences. Thoughts of fleeing from him faded from her mind when Atar’s tongue swept between her parted lips, tasting her. She parted them further, allowing deeper access. Simultaneously, she arched her back, aligning their pelvises. His cock was huge with need through the barrier of their clothing and she writhed against its steel length.

Atar’s hands imprisoned her wrists against the bed, once more returning her to the subservient role. An errant thought intruded that she should protest but Nikia brushed it away. With Atar, at this moment, it was right to be at his mercy. She had no fear of him, even in his current antagonistic state. He could hurt her by withholding his trust but never physically.

He lifted his head, revealing the anger had faded from his eyes, while arousal lingered. He sighed. “You make me crazy.”

She didn’t respond, other than to tentatively strain against his hold on her wrists. He didn’t release her but loosened his grip. Nikia stared up at him, wetting lips plumped from his rough kisses. “I want you.”

He lifted a brow. “Is that why you tied me to the bed—to have your wicked way with me?”

She shook her head, not wanting to lie to him but not wishing to verbalize her original motive. “Will you make love to me now?” She missed the look of surrender that crossed his face when he bent his head again but felt it in the way his taut muscles relaxed slightly and the way his cock nestled more snugly against her pussy. She frowned with slight concern. Was he supposed to be so big?

The rasp of his tongue on her nipple through the thin cotton elicited a gasp and took the thought straight from her mind. Nikia let her body respond to his, acting on instinct by pushing her breasts forward. As he struggled to lower the neckline using his teeth, she wanted to suggest he release his grasp on her wrists but couldn’t remember how to form words. She was lost in the sensations of his every caress, movement and lick. “Atar,” she said around a moan. His name was indistinguishable as a real sound.

With an impatient noise of his own, Atar released her wrists and ripped the nightgown down the length of her body, to her waist. The sound of tearing fabric made Nikia wince but she didn’t rebuke him. Later, she would compensate Maria for the cost. With a man like Ivan, the older woman was sure to understand animalistic passion.

With her breasts freed, Atar slipped his hands under her back, lifting her slightly, until she was half-reclining under his imprisoning body. His proximity and strength served to heighten her desire. Her willingness to acknowledge her vulnerability was a gift to him, although she didn’t know if he recognized it as such.

He buried his face between her breasts, sucking the skin between his teeth to nip her. Nikia groaned but not with pain. His trail of nibbling bites leading him to her left breast excited her to a fever pitch. She barely restrained a cry when he took the nipple into his mouth, laving the sensitive nub with the tip of his tongue, while sucking. If he planned to devour her, he would find no resistance. She brought her freed hands to his head, burying her fingers in his long hair to hold him against her.

Each flick of his tongue ignited new darts of heat. They raced down her spine, through her stomach and into her pussy, spasming in time with the rhythm of his mouth and his pumping hips as he thrust his cock against her. Moisture flooded her pussy, introducing slick heat begging for friction. She shifted restlessly, trying to cuddle his cock more intimately but finding they were as close as they would get with clothes on.

Either Atar had the same epiphany or he was responding to her movements because he leaned back to a sitting position, bringing her with him. The remnants of the gown slipped easily over her head with his assistance, breaking their contact for only a moment. Atar took the opportunity to peel away his shirt before returning to her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him. Her nails found purchase in the firm flesh of his shoulders and she shifted until her bare pussy was against the crotch of his pants.

He pulled her head back by grasping a handful of short hair. His lips teased the sensitive spot at the bend of her neck but he didn’t nip her. Instead, he put his mouth near her ear. “I should tell you something before we go further.”

She moaned with impatience, digging her nails in deeper. “I’m not in the mood to talk, Atar.” Passion had turned her voice to a rasp. “I want you. Fuck me.”

He sighed, pushing her away enough to leave some space between their bodies and forced her to meet his eyes. “This is important. I’m assuming you’ve never been intimate with a Makheet before?”

“No.”

“We’re different than humans, werewolves or vampires. Your races all have the same basic physiology, but mine is more…fluid.”

She quirked a brow. “What, you have a squirt gun in your pants?”

He laughed but there was a note of tension to it. “No, but I want to prepare you. Should I just show you?”

She hesitated, torn between curiosity and caution. Was he so very different? Her stomach tightened with anxiety when she nodded her head, scooting off his lap so he could stand. She held her breath as he undid the zipper of his pants and peeled them away, along with his briefs. When he stood naked before her, she squinted, trying to see what was different. He looked the same… “Oh.”

A tinge of red touched his cheeks. “Uh, yeah.” Atar ran a hand through his long hair, as if agitated. “Some women really like it but others are frightened. I can change my cock to be familiar to them but the size when I do frightens them as well.”

She wet her lips with her tongue. “Why two?” With scientific interest, tinged with raging desire, she leaned closer to examine his genitals. Atar accommodated her by parting his thighs wider. She stared with fascination at the thick, shorter shaft resting above a second one. The top cock was identical in appearance to a man’s “standard” equipment, complete with bulbous, uncut head and a deep red stain of arousal. Without thought, she leaned closer still so she could lift the first cock to better examine his second one. This cock was different from any she had seen before, being long and thin in shape, with no head. It lacked the purple color indicating arousal, although it was hard, responding with spasms to her light touch. She slid her fingers deeper behind his secondary cock, discovering he had no testicles.

“It’s our biological function. One is for pleasure and procreation, while the other is for biological elimination.”

She stroked the second cock, marveling at the smooth skin and lack of veins compared to his primary cock. “Can you feel sensation?”

He nodded. “Yes. It feels good to have you stroke me but I can’t orgasm with that cock. It merely enhances the pleasure of the first, where most of the nerves are concentrated.”

She looked up, still holding his second cock. “What did you mean when you said you could change it?”

“Let go and I’ll show you.” A muscle ticked in his cheek when she released his cock. Nikia gasped when his two cocks melted together to form one. Her pussy quivered at the sight of the gigantic cock now confronting her. She trembled at imagining it sliding into her. A large part of her reaction was fear of pain. “I like it better the other way.”

He laughed again, although still sounding strained and two cocks reappeared. “So, you don’t mind that I’m different?”

She shook her head. “No, of course not.” After years of forced lesbian encounters, the universe was obviously repaying her with cock karma, by giving her a lover gifted with two marvelous cocks. “Differences make us interesting.” She winked at him before stretching out on her back and holding out her arms. “What will you do with the second cock while the first is buried deep inside me?”

Atar groaned, his face flushing. In seconds, she was in his arms again, with his cock hovering above her. “It will stay out of the way unless I put it to use.”

“How would you do that?”

He trailed a hand from her hip to her buttocks, where he stroked her crease, pausing to push lightly against her anus. “Here.”

Her eyes widened, imagining how good it would feel to have him fill her completely. She let her eyes reveal her excitement at the thought, in case her rapid increase in breathing didn’t clue him in.

“You want that?”

She nodded, straining against him. “I want all of you.”

Atar’s response was to rise a few inches, so his secondary cock hovered at the entrance of her pussy. “You’re dripping for me, aren’t you?”

She blushed under his gaze, not missing the arrogant pride in his colorless eyes or teasing in his tone. “I have been since day one.”

He seemed ill at ease by her revelation and broke eye contact, ostensibly to look down at where he was slowly fusing their bodies but Nikia didn’t think that required his full attention. Hurt welled inside her but she pushed it away as the pleasurable sensation of his thinner cock sliding into her pussy swept through her. In many ways, this cock was like a dildo, although softer and more velvety. Also warm from the blood flowing through his veins, instead of the cold, impersonal plastic she was accustomed to.

He teased her with a couple of thrusts before pulling away. “You’re sure about this, Nikia? The complications—”

She opened her eyes wide. “Fuck the complications right now and just fuck
me
.” She held her breath when he aligned his cocks against her openings, easing the thinner one into her anus first. She was tense but he entered easily, finding her body welcoming despite a hint of anxiety, the passage eased by her own natural lubricant he had made use of. Then his cock was pushing into her pussy, entering her. She put a hand on his chest. “Stop.”

He halted immediately, with beads of sweat forming on his brow. “You’ve changed your mind?”

She shook her head. “No, but what about protection?” She couldn’t get pregnant, not knowing if Illiana would regain control of her body or if Anca would put her to death if she had to return to Corsova should her grandmother’s people be unable to help her. Besides, she had Atar’s lust but not his love or even his trust. What kind of environment was that in which to bring a child?