Supernatural Seduction (Book 2 of the Coffin Girls Series) (26 page)

“We have more than enough help for now,
cher,” Anais replied. “Thanks for allowing your healer to escort
the girls.”

“My pleasure,” he replied. “I would have
gladly kept them at the hollow for as long as you wanted.”

“We know,” Anais acknowledged. “But, it’s
best that they be with witches. This bunch has been through hell
and they have turned into little demons. We have our work cut out
for us. A place that has an affinity for their magick will heal
them best.”

“Yes,” agreed Sylvain. “The Enchanted Island
is swarming in witch magick. If there’s…”

“I’ll let you know,” Anais interjected. She
was quiet suddenly. Sylvain knew her well enough to leave her to
sort through her thoughts. “Sylvain?’

“Yes?” he replied.

“Thank you for saving my sister,” she said
softly. Sylvain could hear the tears in her voice. “I don’t know
what I would have done if anything had happened to you or her.”

“It’s not me you have to thank,” Sylvain
replied, embarrassed by her gratitude.

“I know Vérène gave you both blood,” Anais
responded. “But, I know you tried to save her first and how you
refused Vérène’s blood until she fed Sophie. That makes you a hero
in my eyes, cher. Don’t dismiss the compliment or my
gratitude.”

Sylvain didn’t know how to respond to it
without offending her. Gone was the monarch and in its place was
just another guy who got embarrassed when his female friends became
emotional. “My pleasure. You would have done the same. Now, don’t
cry, Anais, think of the baby. You can’t get upset. We’re all
okay.” Anais growled through the phone. “Why the heck do all the
men in my life blame anything they’re uncomfortable with on the
baby?”

Sylvain’s brows rose in surprise. He had no
idea that pregnant women got that hormonal! The fae didn’t become
pregnant often. “Are you and Conall okay?”

Anais’ responding growl was a hint he could
take. “Okay, okay,” Sylvain said quickly, before she could begin
ranting at him. “I’m a guy, I'm an idiot, and you’re right.”

Anais laughed. He could still hear remnants
of tears but her voice was lighter. Good, he thought. Mission
accomplished. Although he had a sneaking, suspicion that he hadn’t
known that making her feel better was his mission to begin with.
Goddess, save a man from the logic of a pregnant woman.

“I’m right about one more thing, cher,” Anais
stated.

Sylvain was afraid to ask, so he kept quiet.
She’d tell him anyway.

“You love Sophie,” Anais announced, “and she
loves you. Now go and say hello to her for me and don’t fuck up
what you have together.”

Well, geez! He hadn’t seen that one coming.
He was saved from replying by Anais’ trilling laughter before she
hung up on him.

He found himself walking towards Sophie’s
room despite his better judgment. The words, ‘Sophie’, and ‘room’
evoked images of them hot, naked, and engaged in giving each other
a lot of pleasure and left room for no other thoughts. At least
that’s what he told himself as he neared his destination. It was
easier to think about sex than about how she'd walked away from him
and her nearly dying in his lap.

“Oh, good,” Rose said at the other end of the
passage. “I’ve got to rush back to the Quarter. Please, will you
take these in to Sophie? The others were a bit bloody.”

It must be the blood loss. He normally wasn’t
this slow. Sylvain looked at the pile of fluffy white towels Rose
had placed in his arms before she’d disappeared. Shrugging, he
knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Sophie called out.

Sylvain opened the door and stepped inside.
Big mistake, he realized. Sophie was in the bath and the door was
wide open.

“I’ve brought you towels,” he said, trying
not to look at the delicate and sexy leg she lifted up out of the
water. The soap suds ran down her leg in the same way he wanted to
trail his fingers over them.

“Sylvain,” she said in surprise. Then she
turned to look at him and he felt as though an axe had hit him. She
was beauty personified. Her hair was piled up in a tempting,
careless mess on top of her head, leaving her shoulders and the top
of her chest bare. The bath was just big enough to hide her breasts
from his view, but he knew what they looked like, he knew of the
delights they offered, so it tempted the hell out of him.

Before he knew what he was doing, he was
climbing into the bath with his clothes on and kneeling in front of
her. “Sophie,” was all he said before he brought his mouth down on
hers and kissed her. He cupped her face and gave her the gentlest
of kisses. The kiss was filled with longing and a need to feel her
alive and well. He pulled back and stared at her, drinking in the
hint of rose on her cheeks, the elfin features that had captivated
his interest at first and those eyes that he always wanted to get
lost in. Her eyes were vamp red; she needed him too. Requiring no
further encouragement, Sylvain dipped his head again and took what
she offered. This time the kiss was fueled by passion and the
frustration of having been apart. He drank her in with tongue,
teeth, and lips, swallowing her sounds of pleasure.

Not breaking the kiss, Sylvain moved his
hands from her face down her arms. Sophie’s sharp intake of breath
stopped him. “You’re hurt,” he growled. “What was I thinking?”

“It’s okay,” Sophie placated, bringing his
face down towards hers. “It’s okay.” Their lips touched and she
took control, sweeping her tongue into his mouth and sucking until
Sylvain forgot why he’d stopped. Sophie drew him in closer so that
her naked breasts touched the wet, luxurious silk of his shirt.
They continued to drink in the passion that poured into each other
while their bodies caressed against each other with involuntary
shivers of desire.

“I’m afraid I’ll hurt you like this,” Sylvain
said, breaking away from her. He stood in the bath, towering over
her like a God of Pleasure and began to take his clothes off. His
actions were slow and deliberate, designed to tease. When the last
piece of clothing was tossed onto the bathroom floor, the red of
her eyes had become darker, mirroring the passion she felt for him.
“Goddess,” Sylvain leaned in for a quick kiss, “I love that I do
that to you.”

He picked her up and rose, making water move
in tidal waves in and over the edge of the bath. Then he carefully
carried her over to the huge bed in her room. Sylvain placed her
gently in the middle of the bed before he lay beside her, propped
on one arm. “How hurt are you?”

Sophie knew that words would not disarm him
enough to continue. There was a voice at the back of her head that
told her to say she was too sore and that she should say NO to what
was happening between them in order. But, she ignored that voice;
her need for the man in front of her was too great.

So, she stood on the bed before him the way
he had stood in front of her moments earlier in the bath. She knew
what she was doing to him. The pulse in his neck quickened, making
her fangs drop. It wasn’t the taste of blood that beckoned her to
him, it was wanting to taste his skin, and his desire as he moved
inside of her.

Sylvain was unable to think of anything as he
watched her lips move while explaining now the places she touched
had healed sufficiently to make love.

“Sylvain?” She asked after she’d finished
detailing her injuries. The question might have sounded innocent,
but the smile that curved her lips could only be described as that
of a temptress.

“Minx,” Sylvain growled before pulling her on
top on him. Sophie laughed and the sound danced across his skin,
eliciting an appreciative groan from him. Sophie placated him by
licking her way down from his chin to his feet, and then she ran
her tongue upwards until she captured his hard length in her mouth.
She rolled her eyes upwards as she sucked and pleasured him, using
her hands to massage his balls. The look on his face was pure
desire. Reaching for a condom, Sophie turned the mechanical act of
putting it on, into a masterful act of teasing. He stared down at
her, his breath escaping in audible pants.

“I need to be inside of you.” He moved so
that she could no longer feast on him and stopped her from voicing
her complaints with another drowning kiss. Breaking the kiss, he
stopped her hand from moving him in place at her entry. “But, I
need to have you boneless and screaming my name more.” He shifted
positions so that he was on top of her, and then he teased her in
turn. He placed all his weight on his arms and toes so that the
only parts of him that touched her were his mouth. With millennia
of experience, he used his tongue, teeth, and lips to graze, lick,
and alternatively blow soft touches over her skin. Sophie squirmed
beneath him, pushing her body up so that she could feel more of him
against her.

“Uh, uh, uh, no cheating,” Sylvain reproved,
but the smile he gave her was all male. He allowed her to feel his
body graze over until he reached her breasts. He settled there
comfortably as though he tended to stay for a long time. And he
did. He worshipped her breasts, exploring every part of each mound
in turn with his lips, tongue, hands, and fingers, alternating hard
pressure with feather-light touches, until Sophie arched against
him pushing that aching wetness against his stomach. But, she
wasn’t where she wanted to be, so she moved her body, wiggling
beneath him to get to what she wanted inside of her.

Sylvain cursed, fighting the need to plunge
inside of her. “Let me give you pleasure first,” he begged.

“You’ve given me pleasure,” Sophie
argued.

“No, not enough, yet.” To make his point, he
moved down her body, grasped her legs, and opened her widely,
exposing her wet, aching need for him to taste and feast upon. The
look he gave her before he settled his mouth stoked the flame that
had begun to kindle. Using his mouth, he brought her over and over
again until she could no longer scream. Her throat was raw and her
voice was hoarse. Her muscles clenched with the after-shock of her
orgasm as he entered her in one fluid stroke. Finding his rhythm,
he began to plunge into her, long and deep. Another orgasm hit her
making the walls of her vagina clench around him, milking him with
every stroke, and pushing him over the edge. Sylvain groaned
loudly, the deep, throaty sound of released passion echoing
throughout the room and his body gave one last thrust before he
spilled himself inside of her.

xxx

Sophie woke up with lips curved wide in
satisfaction. She lifted her arms above her head and stretched,
relishing in the aches that reminded her of the many times they’d
given each other pleasure. Eyes still closed, she ran her hands
across the bed next to where she lay but, instead of feeling the
heat of his skin, they felt cold sheets that had long since been
abandoned.

Anger and hurt rose within her as she sat up
and looked at the empty space beside her. Then she saw the note on
the pillow. She was afraid to pick it up, but her curiosity was
greater than her fear.

“Thank you, Sophie. I’m sorry I had to leave.
There are some things I must see to. We’ll speak again soon,
Sylvain”

Sylvain was waiting and idle time brought
inner demons forward so they could torment the crap out of you. He
was resigned to it. It was part of the process. But, it didn’t mean
that he had to like it.

Perhaps her death was horrific, but her last
moment was one of peace and fulfillment? Maybe it was a kind of
acceptance?

He had said that to Sophie at the farmhouse
and he had meant every word. Thoughts of Marianne’s last moments
came to mind. Was that what she had felt too? That the horrors she
was absorbing from around her was so much that death brought
relief. That her last moments, contrary to what he had believed for
three thousand years, had been peaceful? It was hard to accept.
He’d hung onto the torment and guilt of what he had believed was
her brutal ending. It had been strong enough to carry his
resentment and anger through three thousand years.

Sylvain shook his head in wonder, his
expression rueful. It was funny how good advice never quite applied
to oneself until you got a kick in the ass.

Our estrangement, as you so put it,
Sylvain, is another classical example of how pigheaded you can be
and how difficult you find it to let go. To trust
.

His sister had pissed him off when she’d said
those words. And yet, she had been right.

“Brother,” the object of his thoughts said,
by way of greeting. She moved up the podium stairs with grace and
confidence. His sister was a beautiful and powerful woman. She was
someone to be proud to call family. He inwardly berated himself for
having acted like the jackass Sophie had once accused him of being.
Vérène sat in the throne next to his. The symbolism of holding a
seat of power alongside him was one he could no longer ignore.
“Vérène,” he returned. “Thank you for coming.”

She raised a surprise brow at his courtesy,
but said nothing of it. “What’s this about?”

“My apology,” he offered.

Another raised brow. “Sorry, I don’t think I
heard correctly. What did you say?”

“You heard,” he replied, a smile playing on
his lips. She was going to draw this out.

“You said your apology?” Vérène inquired.
“The one that’s three thousand years outstanding?”

“Yep,” Sylvain acknowledged. “That one.”

“Okay,” she sat back in her throne. “Go
ahead, I’m all ears.”

Sylvain looked at her. “I’m sorry,” he got
right to it. “I was wrong to maintain our separation for so long. I
was wrong to keep our courts divided. You’re my sister and despite
how coldly I’ve treated you, you breached our agreement, and came
into my home, my friend’s home, because you thought I was in
danger. You loved me enough to yell at me and tell me you thought I
was an idiot when I needed to hear it.”