Silken Rapture: Princes of the Underground, Book 2 (31 page)

He shrugged and leaned down to kiss her on the mouth. “No, it’s not that. It’s just…do you ever wonder? What the Magian plan to do with us when all their experimenting is done?”

A chill went through her. She shivered and Blaise rubbed her back, sharing his heat with her.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned it,” he said gruffly, landing a kiss on her temple. “Besides, I am aging like any human now. You and I will be old and gray by the time some of my brothers find their soul.”

“Neither Saint nor you believe that. Both of you think a chain of events has started that can’t be stopped. Your brothers may undergo their transformation very soon. Besides, I have told you what knowledge I’ve gained in touching the crystal during these past months. That crystal, and its sudden appearance, were both orchestrated by the Magian. Christina has told us that she feels the same is true of the crystal chamber they found in underground Chicago. The Magian Council
is
planning events behind the curtains of the stage of our lives, Blaise. It’s best we face that.”

She could tell by his expression he read her greatest worry at that moment. “It would take a greater force of nature than even Usan and the Magian Council to ever take me away from you and our child, Isabel. Not even the Empress herself could succeed in separating us.”

“I dare her to try it,” Isabel shot back.

His dark brows arched in amusement. She ran her fingers over his lips. Every time she saw it in these past months, Blaise’s smile was a fresh miracle to her. Sunlight filtered through the cherry blossoms and danced on his gleaming black hair and face.

“What?” he asked, his grin widening.

“When I first saw you, on the stairs in Sanctuary,” she murmured, realizing she’d been staring at him fixedly, “I remember thinking that it would be miraculous to see what sunlight did to your soul. It
is
a miracle. A more amazing one than I ever imagined.”

His expression sobered. She went up on her toes to meet his kiss.

The future would come, and they would face it. They would fight for their new, cherished life together. All they could do was live day by day, moment by moment, grateful for each other, and thankful for their soul-filled existence.

About the Author

Beth Kery loves romance, and the more emotionally laden and sexy the romance the better. She is a national bestselling author of over thirty books and short stories. She also writes under the pen name Bethany Kane. Find out more about Beth and her books at
www.bethkery.com
, or follow her on Twitter,
www.twitter.com/bethkery
or Facebook,
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. She loves to hear from readers at
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Look for these titles by Beth Kery

Now Available:

Take a Stranger No More

Holiday Bound

Velvet Cataclysm

Princes of the Underground

Velvet Cataclysm

Silken Rapture

In his battle to resist, he found the impossible. His soul.

Velvet Cataclysm

© 2010 Beth Kery

Christina Astor’s telepathic ability is an asset in her job as a psychiatric social worker. What’s driving her crazy, though, is her elusive, gorgeous landlord. She senses that Saint Sevliss wants her with an all-consuming hunger that’s somehow…different. Just how different becomes all too clear when his dangerous world collides with hers.

For centuries, Saint’s kind have been called vampire and werewolf. Even soulless. But their true nature remains a mystery. Bound by a magical mandate to control his bloodthirsty clone, Teslar, at all costs, Saint will do anything to keep Christina away. She infuses his gray universe with life and color, but his world—and his need—would destroy her.

When an attack reveals the true power of Christina’s gift, one thing is certain—Teslar won’t rest in his underground labyrinth until he possesses her, body and soul…

Warning: This book contains some violence, smoking hot, explicit scenes and anal sex. In addition, there is a brief M/M sexual interaction and a ménage a trois.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Velvet Cataclysm:

“You’ve got a lot of nerve, you know that?” She slammed the door shut and swept across the room like a wildfire on the rampage. “It’s you who put this fixed idea in Aidan’s head that we shouldn’t move away from Whitby. Didn’t I tell you to stay away from him?”

“You’re wrong. No intervention was required on my part. Aidan is very upset about the idea of leaving Whitby. It’s his home.”

“Wrong. Whitby Manor is your home,” she corrected, pointing accusingly.

She stepped back when he stood abruptly, quick as a snake at the strike.

“It’s my home because you’re there,” he growled.

Christina was set off-balance by his unexpected revelation accompanied by a focused explosion of feeling. The vivid memory of the gazebo made her recover. “Maybe you should have thought of that before you brought your girlfriends to what should have been our first date.”

She’d never seen Saint show an emotion as mundane as incredulity until now.

“First date? You saw what I am! Saw it with your own eyes, and yet the only thing you consider is that I was unfaithful to your infantile fantasies?”

She snarled and picked up a heavy marble paperweight from her desk, fully prepared to hurl it at Saint’s stunned expression of disbelief. A frustrated cry left her lips when he was suddenly beside her, restraining her wrists. He wrapped his arms around her and pushed her back into his chest.

“Calm down.”

For a few seconds, she was dazed by his resonant, deep voice and the sensation of his body pressed against her. She twisted furiously in his hold, but her body slowly sagged. When she realized she was following Saint’s order without conscious thought, her fury erupted.

“God, I hate you! How could you have done that to me?”

“I am what I am. If I could change my nature, I would in a second. You gave me no choice but to reveal to you the truth about why your dreams are merely that—the fantasies of a child.”

Fury bloomed in her chest, feeling as if it would explode through the skin at any moment. “I told you the other night. I knew you weren’t like everybody else. I didn’t guess you’re…whatever you are…a vampire?”

“Humans have called me that. The truth is a bit more complicated.”

“Vampire or not, you’re an asshole. Some things remain consistent across the species. Even the paranormal variety.”

She braced her legs and twisted viciously to push herself out of his hold. She might as well have been trying to throw a mountain off her. His strength was effortless, as though she were being restrained by steel instead of flesh.

“Let go of me.”

“When you calm down.”

She tried to ignore the shiver of excitement that raced down her neck when she felt his voice rumbling from his chest to her back and his warm breath brushing her ear. She inhaled his familiar scent. As usual, it started an unstoppable chemical cascade of arousal in her body. Her lack of control over her reaction infuriated her further.

“I’m about ready to scream myself hoarse. Do you want to upset Aidan?”

“No. Do you?”

She twisted her neck around and glared up at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Do you think you’re really doing the best thing by taking him away from Whitby?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

“Who’s making that decision? The loving mother? Or your battered ego?”

She went completely still. For a few seconds she thought she’d go stark raving mad if she didn’t get to punch Saint Sevliss’s gorgeous, smug face just once. He stared down at her with those amazing blue eyes while she panted and her breath burned in her lungs.

Using every ounce of her willpower, she forced herself to calm. She inhaled slowly several times, trying her best not to notice the sensation of Saint’s arms enclosing her expanding and contracting ribcage.

“Let go of me, please,” she said with as much dignity as she could muster.

When she felt him slowly release her, she gave full rein to her fury. She turned, stepped back, cocked her fist and swung. Two weeks of pent-up anger and frustration went into a well-landed right hook to Saint’s angular jaw. His chin swung at the impact of the blow.

He slowly turned to face her. What she saw in his eyes made her take a step back in alarm. He halted her retreat by grabbing her upper arms and hauling her next to his body. Anxiety and anguish mixed with Christina’s fury when she stared up at his face.

How can he feel so much and show so little? It was as if her punch had popped the lid off a tightly sealed container of frothing, scorching-hot emotion. A tear skipped down her cheek when he shook her.

“I didn’t want to hurt you, Christina. I hate myself for having done it. But you gave me no choice, the way you were pursuing me.”

His heat seemed to pour into her body. She experienced his inner turmoil clearly, felt his desperation, his need and his pain in equal degrees to her own. It was unbearable, the friction it caused inside of her. Without thinking about her actions, she struggled to get her right arm free from his hold. Much to her surprise, he released her. She grabbed a handful of soft hair at his nape and jerked fiercely.

“I would think you’d be glad we were leaving. Wasn’t that little show you staged the other night precisely for that purpose?”

She sobbed as tears spurted down her cheek. Despite her unbridled fury, she couldn’t stop staring at Saint’s mouth for some god-awful reason, couldn’t stop from pressing her body against his long, hard length, or rubbing her aching nipples against his ribs.

“I was trying to stop you from getting me into bed. I’m trying to keep you safe from me. Can’t you see that? That doesn’t mean I want you and Aidan to leave Whitby for good.”

“Well, I guess your little plan didn’t work too well, did it?” She jerked on his hair one last time for emphasis before she went up on tiptoe and pulled him down closer to her face. She didn’t stop until she felt his warm breath brushing against her lips. “Why in the hell do I need to be kept safe? You must know by now I can read people’s minds, Saint. I have never been afraid of you.”

His upper lip curled; his eyes blazed. She cried out in surprise when he wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her roughly until they were groin to groin, heartbeat to heartbeat.

“You should be afraid.” He swooped down and took her mouth in a ravaging kiss.

A torrent of emotion and sensation surged through her. Christina dazedly realized Saint was right. A woman should be afraid she might drown in the deep, frothing well of carnal delight that suddenly submersed her entire being.

Nevertheless, she craned up for him hungrily, all vestiges of rational thought burned into a mist by her lust and need.

Ensnaring the ultimate bad boy has its risks…and its rewards.

Hot as Hades

© 2011 Alisha Rai

It’s not easy being Hades. Constantly guarding his world against other meddling and ambitious deities is stressful work. So when a naked goddess falls directly into his lap, along with the news that he has to shelter her for the indefinite future, he is less than thrilled. Particularly since he can’t help but lust after the beautiful female.

The Underworld isn’t the first place Persephone would pick for a vacation—who in their right mind would choose a dark palace over sunshine and flowers? Yet from Hades’s first touch, the dark, sexy ruler fascinates her and has her thinking a fling might be just the thing to while away her confinement.

But trust each other? Not a chance. Until the day comes that Persephone must leave…and they realize that trusting each other is the only way they’ll ever meet again.

Warning: Contains an arrogant god, a stubborn goddess, horny deity nookie and enough supernatural friction to set the Underworld on fire.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Hot as Hades:

Persephone preceded him into his office. He shut the door loudly. The click of the lock made her jump. He liked it when she was a little unsure. The hint of vulnerability appealed to him, particularly when she was doing her lady-of-the-manor act the rest of the time.

Keeping her guessing was a fun game, so instead of rushing to get her naked, he went to his desk and sat in his chair. He took his time making himself comfortable before crooking his finger at her in a way that he was certain would raise her blood pressure.

She didn’t love orders, his Persephone. Indeed, her eyes narrowed, and he waited for her to snort at his imperious, silent command.

But a small smile curved her lips, and she sashayed over to stand in front of him, her dress rippling and briefly defining her legs.

He raised a brow. “You’re in the mood to obey me?”

“I suppose so.”

“Why?”

Her smile grew wider. “Because you want me to disobey you.”

Fuck, but she could read him like a book, and he didn’t like that. He was so contrary, he wanted to reward her earlier kind words and actions by proving her wrong, proving that he was no saint. His dominant, autocratic side stretched out of slumber, not that it ever rested for long. “Take off your dress. With your hands,” he added, so she wouldn’t simply dematerialize it.

She raised her hands to the buttons that ran along the front of the dress. Pearl buttons on a pale pink dress—it was his fantasy, his secret kink, innocence on the verge of being despoiled.

The little V of skin at her throat widened as she released each button, showing him that glorious unblemished flesh. Every time he saw that skin, his selfish, territorial nature made him want to mark it, to claim it as his. He had to forcibly remind himself that Persephone and her skin’s presence in his life was strictly temporary.

A snarl sounded, and he realized by her startled expression that it came from him. She would leave him sooner or later.

But for now…now, she was his.
Focus on this moment.