“My beautiful witch.”
“You once told me that Styx should throw away the keys to the dungeon and leave me for the wolves,” she murmured, her hands sliding beneath the lapels of the robe and tugging it off his body.
His fangs were fully extended as her fingers explored his bared chest, circling his nipples before heading ever lower. It was the sweetest torture he had ever endured.
“One of the dogs ever lay a hand on you and they’re dead,” he growled, his hands lifting to run up her bare thighs. “Hell, if any man touches you, they’re dead.”
She rolled her eyes before slowly leaning forward to press her lips against his neck.
“I don’t want any other man to touch me.” She found a sensitive spot at the base of his throat, tormenting him with tiny nibbles. “One mate is more than enough.”
He arched his back as anticipation swelled through him. “It’s not that bad, is it? Mates can be useful on occasion.”
“Really?” Her lips skimmed over his chest, her hair an erotic brush against his skin “And how are you useful?”
“I have all sorts of talents,” he growled, his fingers slipping beneath the scrap of silk so he could rip off the underwear. “Shall I demonstrate?”
“I don’t know.” She licked a beaded nipple. “I think it’s my turn to demonstrate.”
He groaned as she deliberately allowed her breasts to rub against his chest.
“Christ, you’re not going to need a stake to kill me.”
With a low, throaty chuckle she began crawling down his body, her gaze fixed squarely on his straining erection.
“I like this idea of being the one in control.”
So did his cock.
The bastard twitched and throbbed, as if silently pleading for her touch, even as he ruthlessly sought to keep himself from coming.
One touch and he feared he would explode.
“Do you want me to beg?”
She slowly smiled, clearly pleased with her power over him. “The thought is tempting.”
Oh hell. He’d created a monster.
“You are tempting, my love,” he groaned. “I need to be inside you.”
A smile curved her lips.
No, not just a smile.
A wholly wicked smile that spoke of ancient Eve and female enticement.
“But I’m not done.”
On the point of assuring her that he was going to be done if she didn’t hurry things along, Roke gave a strangled shout and nearly shot off the bed as Sally leaned down and licked him from balls to tip.
Holy shit.
She wasn’t a witch, she was a temptress.
Swirling her tongue around the very tip of him, she gave him another leisurely lick before she at last parted her lips and took him into the warm wetness of her mouth.
His hips elevated off the bed as she explored every straining inch of him, swiftly learning precisely what earned his most desperate groans.
Finally he had to admit that he couldn’t take another second of her delectable torture.
Already his balls were tight with the approaching climax. He wanted to be lodged deep inside her when he came.
Reaching down, he grasped her arms and tugged her up to sprawl on top of him. She sighed as her legs fell on either side of his hips, the heat of her moist core pressed against his shaft.
“Sally, I’m going out of mind,” he groaned, his fingers gliding up her inner thighs to stroke through her wet heat. “Put me out of my misery . . . please.”
“Yes,” she breathed, her eyes filled with a confidence as she leaned forward that was as sweet as the soft kiss she pressed to his lips.
There was no doubt to mar this precious moment.
Only the joy of two people who belonged together.
Stroking through her dampness, he located her tiny bundle of pleasure, teasing her until she was at last pleading for release.
Then, angling her hips over his straining cock, he cupped her ass and with one smooth thrust he entered her.
She gave a soft cry of pleasure and he caught her lower lip between his teeth, careful to keep his fangs from grazing her fragile flesh.
It was true that they couldn’t know what would or wouldn’t make their mating permanent. But the one certain means for a vampire was the exchange of blood.
He couldn’t risk accidentally taking her blood in the heat of the moment.
Not until Sally had the opportunity to decide what she wanted from her future.
Arching his hips off the bed, Roke drove himself even deeper, the intensity of the sensations almost overwhelming.
“Roke,” Sally groaned, her tongue dipping between his fangs to tangle with his.
His fingers dug into the softness of her backside. “Am I going too fast?”
“It’s perfect,” she moaned. “So perfect.”
“Do you feel me deep inside you?” he demanded.
“I feel you . . . everywhere.” She pulled back, her eyes dark with astonishment. “I feel everything you feel.”
“Because we’re mated.” He threaded his fingers through her hair, stroking in and out of her in a swift rhythm. “We’ve become one. Heart and soul.”
“Roke.”
She dipped her head downward, claiming his lips as Roke quickened his thrusts, his entire body surging toward a sense of completion that he never dreamed possible.
Chapter Twelve
There were few people or demons who were more familiar with the complex spiderweb of tunnels where the Oracles were staying than Styx.
Before his mating to Darcy, he’d lived in them for several decades along with the previous Anasso.
Which meant that he knew every secret passage and hidden nook.
A knowledge he put to quick use less than an hour after he and Viper had arrived.
Once they’d formally lodged their petition with a dour-faced Sota demon and been shown to their bleak caverns where they were supposed to wait for an opportunity to have their dispute heard by the Oracles, Styx had led them from the public chambers to the dank tunnels beneath.
Stepping through the illusion of a seemingly solid stone wall, Styx pulled his large sword free of the sheath strapped to his back.
“Bring back old memories?” Viper demanded, ridiculously wearing black chinos and a white ruffled shirt with a brocade vest. His silver hair was braided, emphasizing the beauty of his elegant face, and the sword he carried looked like it should belong to a fencer, not a warrior.
But only an idiot would believe that Viper wouldn’t have his heart carved out with a flick of his wrist.
Styx, on the other hand, didn’t bother with subtlety.
Leather, shitkickers, and plenty of snarly attitude.
Simple.
“Not so old,” he said, leaping over a large boulder that blocked their path. “Although it does seem like another lifetime.”
Viper easily kept pace. “Who would have thought just a year later we’d both be mated and saviors of the world?”
Styx snorted. “Be careful, Levet takes full credit for being savior of the world.”
“He would,” Viper said dryly.
Styx kept his attention on the widening tunnel, well aware there were cracks in the uneven walls where an enemy could hide.
He wasn’t about to walk into an ambush.
“I’ll gladly allow him to have the glory if it keeps him out of my hair.”
Viper gave a short laugh. “Yeah, good luck with that.”
“Miracles happen.”
“True,” Viper drawled. “You found a mate who hasn’t stabbed you with a stake.”
“Yet,” Styx pointed out, an indulgent smile curving his lips.
He wanted this business done so he could return to Darcy. The faster the better.
They turned down another tunnel that ended in the appearance of a dead end. This time, however, when they stepped through the illusion there was an unmistakable scent of decay.