Enslave Page 4

  He had fought fae in the past, had warred with werewolves and even vampires in his time as a warrior when he was younger and the world had been a place where battles were frequent and swords were more than ornaments.

  In those days, he had spent more time bloodied than clean.

  She had chosen the wrong vampire to target.

  A shower would help him steel his mind against her beauty and those eyes, blood would replenish his strength and bring his senses back to their full power, and time would lure her into his trap.

  If the succubus wanted a fight, then she had got herself one.

  This was war.

  And he would be the victor.

  * * *

  CHAPTER 4

  Varya cursed herself and the gods for the thousandth time and teleported herself into the theatre, back to the spot that she had disappeared from barely a few hours ago. The black double-height room was thankfully empty and she couldn’t feel anyone nearby. People moved at the periphery of her senses. They were human for the most part, probably employees, but there were vampires too. They felt old so she moved quickly, heading up the stairs. She wasn’t sure where the sleeping quarters were. Casing the theatre from the outside hadn’t given her any clues and after over an hour of scouring every window with her senses, she had concluded that such powerful vampires wouldn’t sleep in a room with a security hazard like a window. The entire top floor of the elegant old sandstone building had no windows, so she was heading there. Vampires shared the same instinct as humans. Sleep high up. In the case of vampires, she discovered it was more like sleep high up and with plenty of other lower-ranking vampires between your intruder and you.

  She reached the first floor. A long corridor stretched in both directions and most of the doors were open. Dormitories. She didn’t allow her curiosity to lure her into peeking inside one of them. Vampires slept there. Most likely the performers and some of the staff.

  The staircase continued upwards so she followed it to the top, where it ended in a black corridor decorated with gold. The elegance of the hallway and the low number of solid mahogany panelled doors said that she had found where her vampire slept. The rooms up here had to be huge, apartments rather than bedrooms.

  A low curling snarl came from a door to her right and she tensed and muttered a stronger glamour. The beast. Andreu had called him Snow but she couldn’t bring herself to use such a pure name for such an animal.

  She laid her palm flat against the wall to her left and closed her eyes. Two vampires slept inside that apartment. One was very young and the other very old. The master of the theatre.

  Both the vampire to her right and the one to her left would easily sense her if she walked past their doors. Not even her strongest glamour could mask her from them.

  She had another problem too.

  The blond bastard slept in a red and gold armchair at the end of the hallway beside one of the doors. A sentinel. A damn good choice of one too. Even if she made it past the doors of the two ancient vampires, she wouldn’t make it past him. He would sense her if she moved even an inch closer to him than she was now.

  Varya’s lips compressed into a thin line.

  She wasn’t going to let this deter her. He was clearly sitting outside the room where her vampire slept. Her gaze darted to the door nearest to him, on her right. All she had to do was teleport to the other side and pray to the gods that he didn’t detect her and come barging in. She wouldn’t stand a chance against him in a fight. He could easily sap her strength and leave her weak. Her kind had always been defenceless against his.

  Varya closed her eyes and when she opened them again, she stood in a very dark windowless room. A flick of her wrist fixed that, the simple spell igniting one of the candles that stood on a chest of drawers. The light reflected off the large gilt-framed mirror hanging on the wall behind it, illuminating the sumptuous and decadent red room. Ebony furniture lined the crimson walls, accented with gold around the drawer edges and gold fittings too.

  An equally black door stood off to her right, open enough that she could see the vague dark shape of a vanity unit and sink. The bathroom.

  To her left…

  Her vampire slept soundly on his front in the most sinful looking bed she had ever seen, and she had seen plenty of beds in her time. A crimson canopy edged with gold trimmings draped over the carved ebony frame of the four-poster bed. Deep red silk sheets covered Andreu from his shoulders down, clinging to his long legs and backside.

  Gods. Her heart did a strange flip in her chest at just the sight of him. She tiptoed forwards, afraid of making any noise in case she alerted him to her presence. A wooden floorboard creaked despite her efforts.

  Andreu grunted and rolled onto his back, the red sheets tangling around his hips and pulling down to reveal a tantalising strip of his muscled chest.

  Varya held her breath.

  The man was beyond beautiful, so exotic and alluring, and nude. Her gaze drifted down over the red sheets. They hid nothing, clinging to the ridges of his stomach and his slender hips, and thick muscular thighs, as though they knew her innermost desires and her fierce need to see him in all his glory.

  Varya snuck forwards and onto the bed beside him.

  He stirred, smacking his lips together and raising his right arm above his head. It slapped down onto the crimson pillow and he sighed.

  She knelt close to him, cocking her head to one side as she drank her fill of his dark beauty. She could spend hours just watching him but that wasn’t why she had come. She wanted another taste. She wanted to see if he could truly resist her or whether she had lost control of him through some fault of her own.

  First, there was another need that she had to fulfil.

  The need to see him naked.

  Varya raised her hand above him, holding it suspended a few inches away from his body, and willed the covers to follow it and slide down his bare body. The red satin slowly glided over his chest, revealing the hard slabs of his pectorals and his small nipples to her eyes, and then over the delicious ridges of his stomach. Even at rest, they were pronounced, clearly defined and screaming at her to lick them. That would be foolish. He would wake if she indulged such a desire.

  She drew her hand down and the covers followed, flowing over the erotic dip of his navel and the V that told her gaze to keep going. She swept her tongue over her lips, every muscle tightening in anticipation. A dark thread of curls spread downwards over golden skin. Almost there. Her breath hitched in her throat. Excitement bubbled through her, a feeling she hadn’t experienced in what felt like forever. Almost. Her eyes darted forwards, too eager to wait for her hand to reach his groin.

  Andreu grumbled and yanked the silk sheets back up before she could catch even a glimpse, covering all of his body and stealing it from her hungry eyes.

  Varya pouted.

  She brought her hand back up to the start of the covers and focused again, her hand hovering above his body. She willed the covers to follow and moved her hand.

  This time she had barely reached his navel before he grunted and dragged the sheets back up.

  Gods curse him. He was infuriating even in sleep.

  Varya huffed quietly and held her hand over his crotch. If he wouldn’t let her see him naked, he could damn well let her see him hard. She stared at the bulge under the covers, bit her lip and focused her will on him. It stirred, slowly tenting the red material, and Varya’s eyes gradually widened. Gods. She wanted to touch that rigid length and feel his heat.

  Andreu groaned and frowned.

  A light sleeper?

  Varya licked her lips again. She didn’t care. She wanted to see him nude and hard.

  She shifted her hand back to the start of the covers.

  His hands shot to hers, fingers locking tightly around both of her wrists, and he dragged her over him, so her stomach pressed against his side. Had he been pretending to sleep all this time so he could capture her? Varya struggled, panic kicking in, and tried to escape
by teleporting. Nothing happened. Her eyes shot wide and she tried again. Nothing. An icy chill tumbled down her spine and then fierce heat prickled her skin. By the gods, what was wrong? Her heart pounded. Gaze sought a charm or a spell marking somewhere in the room. Something was stopping her from escaping. It had to be a spell.

  Nothing.

  She tried to twist her wrists free of his grip and then stilled, her gaze settling on his hands. Gods. He was holding her here. How?

  “Let me go,” she whispered and rotated her wrists again, ignoring how they burned as her skin rubbed against his and her flesh twisted.

  His deep blue eyes slowly opened and fixed on her.

  Varya hissed at him.

  He didn’t let her go.

  “What are you?” His gravelly voice betrayed that he had really been asleep. He had sensed her presence then. She had made countless men feel pleasure while they slept, influencing their dreams so she could feed off the energy they emitted. None of them had ever woken. He tightened his grip and she whimpered. His tone hardened, becoming as sharp as a blade. “What are you?”

  That stung. She was a ‘what’, not a ‘who’. An ‘it’, not a ‘she’.

  Varya refused to answer. She struggled and focused, calling on all of her energy so she could escape his grasp. He moved faster than she could counter and overpowered her, pinning her to the bed beneath him. Her whole body flushed with heat, temperature ratcheting up to a thousand degrees as his hard body pressed into hers and he forced her hands into the mattress on either side of her head. His cool breath skated over her skin and her eyes slipped shut, the feel of him too delicious to ignore even when she knew she was in danger.

  He shifted to pin her legs with his. Varya purred at the feel of his rigid cock pressed against her hip. Delicious.

  Andreu froze and then slowly looked down at himself. His expression switched from anger to horror, and then he turned an accusatory glare on her.

  Varya smiled sheepishly.

  She wriggled her hips against his length and desire seeped into his eyes, obliterating the rage that had been building there.

  His mouth descended on hers and she arched into him, eager for more as he dominated her with another fierce, passionate kiss. Too much, too soon. She hadn’t anticipated the kiss so she was unprepared for the hit of pure pleasure that flooded her veins. She melted beneath him, every muscle going lax as she sank into bliss. He still tasted like Heaven, a strong heady ambrosia that instantly had her hazy and warm all over. He groaned and slanted his head, delving his tongue past her lips and into her mouth. She tried to gain control of the kiss but he was too powerful, mastering her with only a few strokes of his tongue against hers. She moaned and silently pleaded him to continue, and never stop. She needed more from him this time, needed it to go on for longer, wanted his lips on hers forever.

  He pulled back, breathing hard, and his grip on her wrists tightened again.

  She could feel his eyes on her but she couldn’t muster the energy to open her own and meet them. She didn’t care if he wanted an answer to his question, or whether he was angry with her or even pleased to see her. Heat and life flowed through her, stronger than she had ever felt before. She had kissed plenty of men to take a little of their energy, all manner of creatures and species. She had even spent three weeks with a fae king before she had lost her enthusiasm for sex and not even he compared with Andreu. His kiss was addictive and powerful, potent. With him, a kiss was all she needed to feel full to the brim with energy.

  He kissed her again, harder this time, forcing her lips to part. His strong hands pinned her wrists against the bed, pressing them deep into the mattress. The heat drained from her veins, flowing backwards through her and leaving her cold to the bone.

  Her limbs tingled and heart bolted into action.

  Varya struggled, driven by panic and the feel of him stealing back the energy she had taken from their last kiss. It wasn’t possible.

  She forced her head to one side to stop him from kissing her and the cold gradually faded but didn’t disappear completely. She felt weaker now than she had been before she had entered his room.

  “What are you?” he whispered, his breath warm now as it caressed her throat. She felt the danger of leaving her neck open to him but it was a risk she was willing to take. Better he steal her blood than what little remained of her energy.

  “I am sure your friend has told you what I am.”

  “I want to hear you say it.”

  Varya closed her eyes. “I am a succubus.”

  “And what does a succubus want with me?” he said on a low growl and dug the sharp points of his claws into her wrists. “I warn you, if I do not like your answer, you will not live to steal from another.”

  A threat that she knew he would see through. He wouldn’t let her leave the room if she said something he didn’t want to hear, so what did she say to him?

  Varya opened her eyes and looked up into his. They were red again, bright in the low light, his narrowed pupils nothing more than slits in the centre of his irises. She could see his fangs between his parted lips. Gods damn her but she still wanted to kiss him even when she could see the danger of it as well as feel it.

  “I wanted to kiss you again.”

  He huffed. “You were doing more than kissing when I woke.”

  He pointedly looked down at his crotch, as though she needed the reminder. The hard steel of him burned into her hip, teasing her.

  Varya raised her hips off the mattress, pressing her body into his, and his eyes closed, a muscle in his jaw pronouncing itself as he clamped his teeth together.

  “Do not do that,” he hissed through his fangs and she didn’t repent. She rubbed him again, hoping to tease him into being a little nicer to her. Letting go of her wrists would be a start. The moment he released her, she would try to teleport again. If she succeeded, then she would know that his touch could somehow stop her.

  Her gaze slipped to his kiss-swollen lips.

  He had kissed her on his bed twice now. She hadn’t commanded him to do it either. Both times she had tried to feed on the energy the kiss created, the heated sparks that crackled between them. She had succeeded the first time and failed the second. And both times he had stopped the kiss.

  The more time she spent around him, the deeper the mystery of him became.

  His aura was still black, rising like smoke from his skin. Small flashes of red punctuated it though. His desire for her was real.

  “Kiss me again,” she husked and he shook his head. “Please?”

  His eyes flicked open and pinned her as fiercely as his hands pinned her wrists.

  “No.” He pressed his full bodyweight onto her and she grimaced. Any more and he could break her wrists.

  “You are hurting me.”

  “I do not care. What do you really want with me? You want to suck my energy from me and kill me because I saw you in the theatre, don’t you?”

  “No,” she said, horrified that he thought she wanted to kill him. He must have seen the truth in her eyes because he shifted so his weight pressed more against her hips than her hands. “I wanted to kiss you…”

  “You already did that, so why are you in my room?”

  Varya looked beyond him to the red canopy of the bed.

  “Because I cannot shake the taste of you. There is something about you, Andreu. I am trying to figure it out but you vex me. You do not cooperate at all.” Saying his name had caused her voice to hitch. She had never used a man’s name before. Much like Andreu probably never bothered to find out the name of his blood hosts, she had never bothered to get involved with her hosts either.

  “You lie,” he snarled close to her face, huge fangs filling her vision. “You seek to control me so you can suck the life out of me. I warn you, it will end in your death, witch.”

  Varya wished she could control him. If she had been able to, it would have ended her interest in him. It was her inability to control him, her inability to read hi
s aura, and his ability to take energy from her, that had her fascinated.

  Were those three things the reason why shadowed males were forbidden?

  Andreu was certainly dangerous.

  But why hadn’t her clan just told her those were the reasons behind the law against interacting with men who wore a black aura? There had to be more to it than she had already discovered.

  “I have no desire to kill you,” she whispered and relaxed beneath him, hoping to convince him that she was telling the truth and that she wasn’t a threat. “Please let me go.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you are hurting me.” A bold-faced lie but one she prayed he wouldn’t see through. He had shifted almost all of his weight to his pelvis and legs now, restraining hers and leaving her wrists mercifully free of pain.

  “You lie. Why do you really want me to let you go?” He frowned down at her and she looked away, towards the bathroom door.

  “I want to leave, and I have no desire to fight you to achieve it.” The truth this time. She could fight Andreu but she didn’t have the heart to do it. She didn’t want to hurt him.

  That thought shocked her. She had never cared about the welfare of her hosts before now.

  She had never cared about anyone outside of her clan.

  “So just disappear.”

  Varya closed her eyes, drew in a deep breath, and quietly admitted, “I cannot.”

  His eyes bore into the side of her face, burning with a question that she didn’t want him to ask because she would feel compelled to answer and he would know that he had power over her.

  “Please let me go.” She spoke before he could, turned her head towards him and opened her eyes. The moment they met his, the red in his irises receded, clearing to reveal deep sea blue.

  Electricity shivered through her from the points where their bodies touched, crackling fiercest in her wrists and where his hips pressed hers into the bed. She stared into his eyes, lost in the magical feel of him against her and the incredible connection that slowly built between them. His breathing slowed and then changed rhythm, coming to match hers, so his bare stomach pressed against hers with each inhale.