Heat rushed to her cheeks. There wasn’t a thing, sexually, that she hadn’t either used, been exposed to, or heard of, but somehow the way Valin spoke, and the implied savoring of such an act, brought with it a whole new world of possibilities. Possibilities that all started and ended with the words: mutual pleasure. As if there could be such a thing in sex.
Even as she tried to keep her mind from traveling down unwanted roads, a memory surfaced, bubbling up through her growing anticipation like a rotted cadaver rising back to the surface. She’d been given to Stephan as part of his reward for achieving status as second, though she would be damned if she didn’t meet the challenge for supremacy with all she had. Winning wasn’t even about who came away with a smile on their face but about maintaining control. Losing was to be subjected to the other’s will—forever. Gabby was good at winning; her inner succubus was good at making men beg. For a moment she thought she’d gotten the upper hand, but then Christos had slipped into the room. All it had taken was that break in her concentration. Next thing she knew the vampire twisted a fistful of her hair around his hand and forced her down to her knees before him. And Christos…Christos was smiling as he leaned back against the door to watch.
Valin growled, shattering the memory with a good shake of her shoulders. “Don’t you fucking think about that. I’m not him. I’m not any of them.”
“No?” she looked pointedly down at the hands bruising her upper arms.
He cursed, dropping his hands and fisting them at his sides. His throat worked as he spoke. “I’m sorry I gripped you so hard.”
She didn’t miss the implication that he was not sorry for trying to chase the memory away, but she nodded, rubbing her arms. The shudder that wracked through her body had nothing to do with the tender flesh, but a much deeper ache within her. Oh, how she wanted to believe in him, but the doubts…sex was for power. The only pleasure to be had was that of the control she held over the other player when the act was done.
“No, Gabby. That’s not true,” he said, his voice hoarse and uneven.
“Isn’t it?”
He shook his head, his eyes darkening to a smoldering brown as he leaned close, his calloused fingers so comparatively gentle to his last touch as he traced a path through the tears on her face. And great, now she was fucking crying.
“Gabby, none of them cared enough to make you feel the things that I’m going to make you feel.”
The quiet sincerity with which he spoke the words might have been enough to convince her to try, but it was nothing compared to the image he blasted her with next: him over her, his arms wrapped beneath her knees and his heated gaze locked with hers as he dragged his tongue across her clit, then dived in closer to suckle the juices dripping from her core. She knew it was just an image, a projected thought that he’d somehow managed to wrap up in a pretty bow of needy emotion and heady desire, but that didn’t keep the gasp from escaping her lips, nor did it stop the tremble from skating along every neural pathway in her body until every inch of her skin tingled. Could it really be like that?
His eyes heated, his voice rough as gravel as he purred at her. “Yes, Gabby, it can be like that, but I’ll only show you if you want me to.”
Valin knew the moment she made her decision. There was that slight firming of her jaw, then the endearingly familiar tip of her chin. The problem was he didn’t know what her decision was…until she crossed her arms over her belly, grabbed the base of her tank top, and pulled it over her head. Next came the sports bra, then her pants, followed by the most mind-blowing scrap of fabric that surely couldn’t technically be called underwear. Finally she was standing before him completely naked, her lush curves begging him for his touch: a goddess, made for sex. And his. All fucking his.
Stop objectifying her, you ass!
He swallowed, jerking his gaze up to her face, and realized how much ground he’d lost. He should have noticed the stiffness in her frame while he’d been ogling her body, but bonehead that he was, he hadn’t. He could see it now, along with the deep furrow of doubt in her brow, and the etched lines of worry around her pinched lips.
Damn those bastards. He was going to find them and tear every one of their goddamn dicks off.
Her eyes widened.
“Did you hear that?” he asked, sure he’d kept the thought tight behind his shields. He did not need her thinking about Christos and his fucking lackeys again. Not now. Not ever.
“Hear what?”
He shook his head and blew out a long gust of air, centering himself. They weren’t fully bonded yet. She was probably just reacting to his physical cues, which were all over the place. Confident seducer, to Pavlovian dog, to murderous bastard in five seconds flat.
“So, uh…” She shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, her arms self-consciously rising to cover herself before she realized what she was doing and visibly forced them back down. He watched partly in amusement and partly with another emotion that he refused to give credence to as she raised her chin again, this time accompanying the movement with a cock of her hip and a hand planted upon it.
“So, uh, what?” he asked, trying to remembering what they’d been talking about before that little cold shower of a memory had fucked with their mojo.
She rolled her eyes, making a keep going motion with her hand as if to say what’s next.
Damn good question. He suspected this was a bit of a test. Not that he thought she realized she was giving him one, but he wasn’t fool enough to not know when he was in uncharted waters…near deadly hidden reefs.
Gabby was part succubus, but unlike any succubus he’d ever known, he didn’t kid himself into thinking that she liked sex. Her nature might make her able to get past the type of circumstances that she’d doubtlessly faced and come away unbroken, it probably even made her crave the act to some extent, but abuse was still abuse, and just that brief glimpse he’d seen a few minutes ago told him that at best she considered sex a tool to maintain some slim measure of power over her jailors.
She’d never had sex for the pure enjoyment of doing so. She’d never allowed herself to be swept away in the sensations. Never released herself to the emotions inherent of the act. Which meant that he was going to have to show her how, but to do that she had to be comfortable with him first.
He reached down, cupping his balls. Her gaze followed, her mouth parting in the perfect little O as he completed the motion by stroking his fisted hand from the base of his cock up over the tip. “Next you touch me.”
Her gaze snapped back up, one of her elegant eyebrows arched up. “I thought this was all about touching me.”
“Oh, no, Gabby. You got it all wrong. That’s not what this is about.” He shifted closer, close enough to feel the heat radiating off her, close enough that it practically hurt not to drag her to him and devour. Instead he reached, placing his left hand on her right shoulder as if she were a skittish filly.
“Then what’s it about?” she said, her words clipped, but he didn’t miss the fact that she shuddered under his light tough…and that her gaze drifted down toward where his hand still cradled his cock. First victory. And hopefully many more to come.
“Oh Gabby, this is all about…” He stroked his cock while she watched, his other hand drifting inward across her collar bone, “…making sure…” continuing down the sweet valley between her rising and falling breasts, “…you come…” and ended with a caress of his thumb across her peaked nipple.
She gasped, her head falling back slightly as she arched into the sensation, as if begging for more. So he did it again, and had to release his cock to steady her when she weaved on her feet. Holy fuck, she was responsive. Because it was him? Or was that the succubus coming out to play?