Temptation at Twilight: Lords of Pleasure (33 page)

He pressed his lips to hers, loving her mouth, soft and wet. “
Home
. Say it again.”

“Home.”

He cupped her delicate face, scooping his fingers through her hair. He kissed her breathless, until the need scored him like fire. The burning desire of a vampire for the woman who would soon be his wife as well as his mate. There was still darkness in his touch, but only the delicious kind that brought them endless pleasure. No evil ever again.

“Let’s go inside,” he managed.

Their fingers linked, he led her inside, where they made it as far as the living room. His brothers were nowhere in sight. Trisha and Jordy rounded the corner, chatting together, but quickly changed direction with knowing smiles. He and Harley each peeled off the other’s clothing, unhurried. Drinking in this moment of reawakening.

Naked, he stilled before the hearth, thrilling to her touch, letting her explore at will. His face, chest, stomach. Between his legs. Telling her without speaking that he belonged to her and only her, for always.

He began his own journey, skimming her breasts, her hips. When he could wait no more, he sank to the rug, tugging her with him. He laid her gently on her back, covering her lush body with his, and pushed inside.

They moved together as one, their coupling a tender rebirth. Pulsing deep within this woman, he rejoiced in her love. The dance increased in tempo until he stiffened and shuddered with a hoarse cry, flowing into her, the river to the sea, giving all of himself. If he could, he’d give her more than his heart, his life, but he didn’t know how. The only gift he had was to turn her, which he’d do after the joining, if she wanted. She clung to him in answer, accepting him. An ageless meshing of souls.

Afterward, he lay with Harley half sprawled across him, head pillowed on his chest. He stroked her smooth back, thinking that life didn’t get any better. Practically humming with satisfaction, he enjoyed the featherlight touch of her fingers tracing lazy circles on his hip.

Soren tensed. She was examining the crescent birthmark. “Harley, did Valafar say whether my mark could get me into more trouble?”

Now that Leila is dead
. He’d never speak her name again, but a part of her, the awful lessons he’d learned at her hands, his betrayal of Harley, would go with him into eternity.

“Goodness, you’re a worrywart!” She rolled her eyes and gave him an impish grin. “Thanks to Valafar, Arron, Zen, Aldric, and Luc, not to mention you, we have an entire immortal branch of our family. When you turn me, that’s another one. I think our kid will be in good hands, too.”

“Worrywart? I’m just trying to look out for—” His heart did a funny little tap dance. “What did you say?”

She kissed his cheek. “Congratulations, Daddy Soren.”

“W-what?” The breath left his lungs. “But I didn’t think I could have children!”

“Surprise! You managed just fine.”

“When?” He felt shell-shocked and so damned happy.

“In our gazebo. Whoopsy-daisy,” she sang. “Will you still love me when I’m as fat as an ogre?”

Tears blurred his vision, and he had difficulty finding his voice. “I’ll love you when you’re the size of my great-aunt Bertha.”

“You don’t
have
a great-aunt Bertha.”

“Sounded good, though.” He made a great show of thinking of something else, then pronounced, “I’ll love you when you’re as big as Val.”

“Gosh, you’re sooo poetic, I could just swoon,” she griped, sticking out her tongue.

Choking back a laugh, he looked into her beautiful face, smoothed back her hair, and cleared his throat. “You, my darling, have made me the happiest, luckiest vampire alive.”

She arched a brow, pursing her kissable lips. “Better.”

“I died in your arms, my precious angel,” he whispered. “And I took my final breath with your sweet face easing the pain of loss in my heart. The next time I leave this world, it will be forever. When I do, it will be glorious, because I’ll fly away knowing that I’m a better male . . . all for having known your love.”

“Oh, Soren.” Plump little drops of wetness plopped to his chest. Her eyes shone, brilliant as diamond-studded emeralds. “Now,
that
was pretty damned poetic.”

“I thought so.” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “All this mushy talk is making this simple vampire a little jumpy. I’m a man of action, baby.”

“Suppose you put your money where your mouth is, then?”

“Be glad to.” He grinned.

Soren rolled, pinning her underneath him, delighting in her happy squeal. Determined to show this woman how much he loved her, would always cherish her. Which he did. Again and again.

Later, with Harley snuggled fast asleep in his arms, he fantasized about a child with wispy auburn curls and eyes the color of emeralds. Or a dark-headed one with eyes of amber, and a cocky, devil-may-care grin.

Of milky, unblemished, baby-soft skin.

Save for the magical mark of a crescent moon.

K
assandra’s day started pleasantly enough.

A good, hard fucking followed by breakfast in bed would put her in the right frame of mind to face the rest of the day—and to temporarily forget the never-ending demands of her sisters.

Hard-as-nails Valkyrie bitches, every last one, which she had no problem calling them to their pretty faces. With love.

“Taryn!”

The young man eased smoothly into her bedroom from the hallway, where he’d no doubt been anticipating her waking up and calling on him. Kass’s personal body slave lived to serve her, which frequently included pounding his big cock into her pussy until she screamed the palace down.

Valkyries had a very healthy sex drive. Kass and her sisters were no exception.

Taryn’s attentiveness, not to mention the eager member jutting proudly from between his thighs, brought a smile to her lips. The man did love his position. So to speak.

“Yes, mistress?”

She took a moment to appreciate his beauty. The slave stood patiently with his feet spread shoulder-width apart, hands clasped behind his back. His body was long and muscled from his daily fitness regimen, so different from the starved whore she’d taken in four years ago. Straight hair as black as a raven’s wing spilled just to his collarbone, framing a face saved from being too pretty by the scar running from his left temple across his cheek, stopping an inch from the corner of his mouth.

A crazy john’s attempt to filet the gorgeous young man, the last mistake the slimy bastard had ever made.

That went a long way in explaining the devotion shining from his soulful brown eyes. The man didn’t give a damn that his mistress was a tough, heartless warrior. To him, she was a goddess, and he told her so on a daily basis. They shared a bond of sexual passion and an odd friendship for a rent boy–turned-slave and his mistress.

“Has my armor been cleaned?” she asked. “You know how I hate blood stains.”

“This morning, mistress.”

“And my sword?”

“Polished to a shine, of course.”

She gave a humph of satisfaction. “Then come here, pet,” she said, stretching like a lazy cat. “Give me a proper wake-up call.”

“My pleasure, as always.”

Watching him stride for the bed completely naked, wearing that hungry look on his face, had yet to get old. Maybe that was because she’d lived for about two thousand years and had only known him for a fraction of that time, but she’d enjoy his delectable body while the shine was still on the penny.

He climbed onto the bed and stalked her on all fours, a half smile on his full lips. She spread her legs, inviting him in. He knew what she liked and was glad to give it. Settling between her thighs, he combed his fingers through the dusky patch of curls and then parted the delicate folds to better reach the nub waiting there.

His tongue flicked out, tasting, and she buried a hand in his silky hair, urging him to feast. He didn’t disappoint. After teasing the little clit for another minute, sending delightful shocks through her womb, he began to nibble. First the tender nub and then downward, to lave her slit. A few more swipes and she tugged at his head.

“Up here now,” she said hoarsely. “I need you.”

His smoldering eyes met hers. “As you wish.”

Crawling up, he moved over her, placing the head of his cock at her entrance. He pushed into her heat ever so slowly, causing her to shudder with pleasure. When he was fully seated his hips began to pump, sliding deep, then retreating. Then repeating the process again. And again. If there was anything in eternity to compare with a man’s hard body claiming hers, she couldn’t name it.

The heat built, that wonderful crescendo that swelled in time to their music, carrying her higher. Her nails raked his back, just a bit of pain to remind him who was truly in charge. He shivered and groaned in response, hips snapping furiously now. Plunging into her welcoming channel with relish.

“Oh! Gods, yes!” she shouted.

“Can’t stop, mistress!”

“Come for me!”

She didn’t have to repeat the order. His big body went as taut as a bow string and he buried himself fully, shouting his ecstasy. His release filled her, and she followed him over the edge, clinging to him, riding the waves. When at last they were satiated, he placed his customary kiss on her cheek, a chaste ritual considering the intimacy they shared daily. But only a Valkyrie’s mate was allowed the deep, mouth-to-mouth kiss of forever love.

A love her fierce kind had little hope of ever finding.

Withdrawing from her, Taryn stretched out at her side. “Why the frown, mistress? Weren’t you pleased?”

“Oh, hush, you.” She slapped playfully at his muscular arm. “You were fabulous, as always. I guess I’m just a little . . . I don’t know how to describe it, really.”

“Bored?”

She thought about that. “No, not exactly. There’s always plenty to do, what with the never-ending politics and backstabbing among the gods.”

“Hmm. Sad?” he said softly, tracing her cheek.

Startled, she met his gaze. “Me? I seem sad to you?”

“Yes, mistress. If you don’t mind my saying so, you’ve sort of been in a funk lately.” He paused uncertainly.

“Go on, Taryn.”

“Well, I overheard your sisters talking about you. Not in a bad way,” he hastened to add. “They’re worried. They think you need a new challenge to bring the smile back to your lovely face.”

“What kind of challenge?” Knowing her sisters, it would be sure to piss her off.

“They were discussing how long it’s been since a worthy male warrior has been brought to Valhalla to appease the gods. The general consensus was that you should escort the next one.”

Her brow furrowed. “That’s not much of a challenge at all. What are they up to?” she mused aloud.

“I don’t know, but from their laughter, there did seem to be more to it that I didn’t catch,” he said darkly. “I don’t like it.”

She had to smile. “Loyal Taryn. What would I do without you?” Kissing his forehead, she scooted from the bed. “They live to annoy me, and each other, so I’m positive it’s nothing to worry about. What’s the harm in taking a fallen warrior to serve the gods? It’s an honor for the male, and a task I’ve done thousands of times. It’ll be fine.”

“I’m sure you’re right, mistress.” But he didn’t sound enthusiastic.

“Get cleaned up and see if you can help in the gardens today,” she said, waving her hand in dismissal. “And stop fretting.”

“Yes, mistress.” With a sigh, he headed for the door.

Turning, she padded into the master bath and paused in indecision. Normally she’d start her day—after Taryn’s expert attentions—with a nice long soak in the huge marble tub, up to her chin in bubbles, but a sense of disquiet crept into her bones. This was a new feeling, totally different from the malaise that had plagued her lately.