Symphony of Light and Winter (26 page)

They stopped as soon as they saw me. I held up the box. “Special K, anyone?”

Two of them laughed. The third looked like he wanted to kill me.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He had long, wheat-colored hair and a fierce expression as he pushed past me.

I heard Overton and several others start to correct him, but I interrupted.

“I live here, sunshine. It’s very nice to meet you, Mr.…?” I extended my hand.

“Don’t touch me. Ever! Do you hear me?” he growled. He stepped away from me and made his way to the farthest side of the kitchen.

I watched his red pajama pants ripple with each flex of his toned ass as he strode away. Was it getting hot in here?

Normally, the surly man’s behavior would upset me, but yet another gift Cyril had bestowed on me—tolerance for assholes.

Overton made his way to me and placed his arm around my shoulders, leaning in to whisper in my ear. “Sinclair isn’t always such an ass, but remember the problem we spoke of earlier? He has the same…symptoms. The only difference is I’ve spent many lifetimes controlling my urges and Sinclair is a little less restrained. Don’t worry; he knows better, but you being here complicates things.”

I whispered back, “But this is the first time I’ve met him.”

“It’s your proximity.” He whispered directly into my ear and his hot breath tickled, making me shiver. I needed a distraction.

“Is that coffee I smell?” I looked for the source of the pleasant aroma.

I turned around to find another beautiful pajama-bottom-clad man staring at the coffee machine.

I smiled at him as he looked up.

He handed me a cup and lowered his eyes. “I’m not sure how you like it.”

It was cute the way he wouldn’t hold my gaze. It didn’t escape my notice that Overton stood so close he touched me.

“It’s perfect. I like it black.” I smiled at the beautiful blond-haired man. His coloring and physique reminded me of Michael, but he didn’t seem to have the same level of confidence. “Thank you for the coffee. I’m Linden, and you are…” I said, holding out my hand. He sheepishly accepted it and gave me the most bewildered look.

“Thoresen. But most call me Thor.” He stared deep into my eyes for the first time.

“Do you like being called Thor?”

He smiled. “Yes, I suppose I do, but no one has ever asked me before. Thank you.”

There was something innocent and boyish about Thor, a direct contrast to his name and physique.

I returned his gaze with a smile. “It’s very nice to meet you, Thor.” I tried to remove my hand from his, but it took some effort. He wouldn’t let go.

Again Overton came to my rescue. He pulled my hand free from Thor’s grip and steered me and my coffee back to the counter. He placed himself between me and the other men.

The last man in the room said nothing. He acted as though I didn’t exist. I started toward the unknown man who had a sharp, angled nose and strong jaw just as Overton grabbed my arm and yanked me back.

In a moment, his mouth was at my ear again and he whispered, “That’s Scarlatti. Well, he goes by Dominic these days. He’s not very social. He’s beyond intelligent and a bloody good fighter.”

“Is he having the same—”

“We all are, to some degree or another, but if there is any risk of someone slipping up, it’s him. Just stay here with me.”

“Fabulous. Let me finish my coffee and I’ll be off to work and leave you fine gentlemen alone.”

I was amazed at how much the morning felt like working an event. I had to be a different person with each of them. It wasn’t until that moment I realized even though Cyril brought out the worst in me most times, I was always me with him. There was no mask, no pretending. I tried not to dwell on the fact that many of the things I had started to hate Cyril for actually helped me. Was it possible he wasn’t the supernatural manifestation of Murphy’s Law after all?

Nobody spoke for the longest time. It was extremely quiet for a room full of people, the tension thick. I found the silence bothersome, and with both of my hands clasped around my cup, I started to hum.

I was about three stanzas in when someone chuckled under his breath behind me. A few more stanzas and it became a full-on fest of subdued snorts and gurgles. Overton glared at me. He seemed to be the only one in the room not amused. Even Dominic and Sinclair cracked a smile. Of course I knew why, but it was so much more fun to play dumb. I was even more amazed these brutes knew their musical theater.
Nice!

I continued to hum and Overton tapped his fingers on the table. “Are you humming ‘A Little Priest’ from
Sweeney Todd
?”

I feigned innocence. “Oh, I guess I am.” I shot him a grin that screamed
I’m too cute for you to be mad at me.

My amusement was interrupted by the absolute last thing I needed. Cyril. As if being in a room with a bunch of men who wanted me but didn’t know why and hated me for it wasn’t bad enough. In his black custom suit, he radiated power. He pulled at his cuff links as he stopped to survey the room.

Instead of trying to make my escape, I seized an opportunity to antagonize him. I was really starting to enjoy tormenting him.

“Good morning, Grim, it is nice of you to join us.”

“Grim. Ha! She called him Grim.” Rhys clapped his hands as he laughed.

Cyril didn’t acknowledge me or Rhys’s comment. He stood there for a very long time and looked around the room at each man. Nobody met his gaze but me. Cyril’s fists clenched at his side, jaw tight, and face furious.

“I warned all of you,” he addressed the room. He didn’t growl but rather wrapped his words with a subtle menace.

“Leave them alone. You know this is entirely your fault. If you would just think things through, you’d stop fucking everything up. I do have to say, of all your fuckups, this one is certainly the most impressive and entertaining from my perspective.” I winked at Overton, who managed to glare at me even with his head practically bowed. Why were they so fucking subservient to him?

The next thing I knew, I was yanked from my seat and hoisted onto the counter. Cyril grabbed my ass and pulled me to the edge, forced my legs open, and stepped between them. He wrapped his arms around me and placed his head against mine. It wasn’t his voice I heard but rather his mind. It felt like when I talked to myself but somehow I knew it was him. Strange, he had tone and inflection while communicating.

“You need to stop showing off in front of my men. Yes, I fucked up, but do you really want them to give in to their urges? Do you think you can fend them off? I could toss you to them and see how far you get. Is that what you want? Maybe I should let them have their way with you and pull up a chair to watch. I want you to think about something before you start to defy me. I’m the only one who can keep you safe. So it’s best you stop being a smart-ass for five seconds and listen to me. I’m going to do something that will piss you off. I’m warning you now it’s for your own good. You need to go along with it, no matter how angry you are at me. Don’t fight me. I’ll try to fix this but until then, I need to take a few precautions.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond. If I thought something, could he hear me? Was this two-way communication?
I tried to push him away.

He tightened his grip and his voice was in my head again.

“Stop it! Let me remind you that I have a special connection with these men. Not only can I read their thoughts but I can’t block them. I don’t have to try to receive them. I know exactly what each person in this room, besides you of course, is thinking right now.”

So that’s what Overton meant when he said Cyril had ways of finding out.

“The thoughts that assaulted me when I entered this room would make a porn star blush; every one of their little fantasies featured you.”

I giggled.

The voice growled.
“Don’t laugh. I won’t pretend I’m not jealous and angry. I am. But if you knew the things they were thinking you’d better understand why I need to do what I’m about to do. Do you see Dominic over there? Let’s just say his tastes run a little dark. Ever spend considerable time naked with your hands bound behind your back and a ball gag in your mouth? He’s picturing you that way, this very instant.”

I stiffened. That didn’t at all appeal to me.

“Thor seems to think that you’d enjoy all of us taking you at the same time.”

And he seemed so quiet and sweet.

“Sinclair wants to shove his cock down your throat until you choke, all the while telling you how it’s your entire fault. Rhys is thinking of how you would look sprawled out on the hood of his new sports car, and Overton…”

“NO!” I yelled.

It seemed like a violation of privacy with Overton. Unlike the others, I considered him a friend. I respected him too much.

“See, like it or not, I’m going to tell you what he’s thinking since it pisses me off the most. He thinks I’m going to fuck you right here on this counter, to lay my claim. Once he gets past the fantasies of watching me fuck you, which he finds exceptionally arousing…”

There was a momentary pause to the voice and when he started again, he was angry.

“He then knocks on your bedroom door after you run crying from the room. You invite him in and he holds you in his arms while you cry about how I violated and humiliated you. He wants to comfort you. He wants to be your savior. He wants to save you from me. But he knows he can’t.”

I felt the moment he left my head, because a sudden wave of dizziness came over me.

With no more words, he tilted his head and placed his lips against mine. I fought the rigidity that tried to seize my body. I knew it was best to give in. I wouldn’t fight him, but I knew every time he got close, I ran the risk of losing myself. I was still way too angry to just give up.

His lips danced with mine as he nestled himself between my open thighs.

Was Overton right? How far would he take it? If it did go too far, would I be able to stop him? He was such a fucking weakness for me I honestly didn’t think I would
.

He was gentle and softly stroked my back as his tongue made love to my mouth. With one hand he cupped my ass and pulled me flush against him, and with the other he reached up, cupped my breast, and squeezed hard. His kiss grew frantic and I became caught up in the sensation, forgot where I was, and that I had an audience. He pushed me hard against his erection as he rubbed himself rhythmically against my core. “You are mine. You belong to me. Now say it! Let them all know who you belong to.”

Was he kidding? I hesitated.

He ran his fangs up the side of my neck in warning. He whispered in my ear, “Say it. You need to say it. Let them hear it come from your lips.” His hand drifted from my breast to the hem of my nightgown and pulled up one side so it rested in the crease where my leg met my hip.

Somehow the part of me that knew he was right surfaced, and the stubborn part of me took a momentary vacation. If I was his, they wouldn’t dare defy him. It would keep me safe.

His fingers toyed with the edge of my panties before tugging the fabric to the side to allow him to stroke my moist skin. He positioned himself at the juncture between my legs, allowing my naked flesh to gather friction from his cloth-covered cock.

“Yes, Cyril, I’m yours.”

With that, he struck. His fangs pierced my neck. The second of pain from his bite passed and the pleasure grew, igniting my veins with liquid desire. One arm tightened around me, pulling me harder against his cock. The other held my head while he sucked harder. Each pull he took was linked to the sensitive place between my legs. He ground his hips into mine and I moaned. The first wave of climax hit, tensing muscles and pushing my breath out in a rush. This was new. He could do this just by biting me?

I shook in his arms as he drank. Tremor after tremor seized me as he took his fill. I was so caught up in the sensation I only vaguely noticed the moans and growls that escaped from behind his teeth. With one final pull, and a thrust of his hips, he finished with a crushing embrace as he removed his teeth from my neck.

“Mine!” he roared. He enveloped me in his arms and held me close. He dipped his head to lick closed the small punctures on my throat.

I threw my head back. My breathing slowed as the cloud that had invaded my head receded.

Son of a bitch! I just came in front of everyone while sitting on the kitchen counter!

I was afraid to open my eyes but when I did, he stared back.

He nuzzled my cheek. “I’m sorry. I only want to protect you. If you’re mine, no one will dare touch you. I needed to lay my claim but I didn’t want to take anything you hadn’t already offered. Since you’ve replenished me before I thought this might be more acceptable.”

I was angrier with myself than him.

He caressed my arms and back. When I mustered enough courage to look around, we were the only people in the kitchen, with the exception of Overton, who stood in the doorway holding the keys to my car.

Cyril softly lifted my chin so that my eyes would meet his. “Again, I’m sorry. I know I end up saying that far too often. But I need you to know, hearing those words from your lips…ah, hell. I can’t even explain it. Perhaps someday, you’ll utter them in truth.”

He placed his forehead against mine, took a deep breath. “Fuck. Maybe Overton is right. Maybe someone should save you from me.”

I said nothing but breathed in his masculine scent. So soothing. Better than any drug.

“One thing before you leave,” he said as he ran his thumb back and forth over my cheek. “Do you remember the book I gave you?”

I nodded.

“Do you still have it?’

“I don’t know. I hid it in the cemetery, but that was over ten years ago.”

“Do you remember where?”

“Yes, in the back of one of the cannons. I hid it there after leaving the hospital. I didn’t want Michael to find it and think I was crazier than he already thought I was. I wrapped it in a Ziploc bag and put it in a metal lunch box. I doubt it will still be there.”

“Would you mind getting it for me?”