Immortals After Dark 01 - The Warlord Wants Forever

inevitable.

    She didn’t deny it, because he was probably right. He called himself her husband, but she didn’t recognize him as such. She didn’t recognize him as the one whose arms she would forever run to get within. She might stay for a time, but in the end she would always go.

Chapter Nine
    T he harsh light of day. Or night, Myst mused. The harsh light of waking was upon her.

    Instead of the shame and disgust she should be feeling, she was treated to big, warm hands massaging her back until she was a boneless heap of bliss. She moaned, her mind dimly registering that vampire lovers might be vastly misunderstood. Perhaps she was in the know and enjoying early-adapter status.

    “I have to go meet with my brother for a couple of hours. Can you content yourself here?”

    “Uh-huh,” she mumbled.

    “Don’t leave.”

    Huh? She wasn’t going anywhere. She was too at home and relaxed here.

    He bent down to murmur in her ear. “I’ve left clothes laid out. Will you dress for me, milaya?” And then he disappeared.

    Strangely lazy, it took her another hour before she finally got up. She raised an eyebrow at what he’d set out for her—a stiff satin bustier fringed with transparent lace that just covered her nipples, intricate garters, fishnet hose and thong—all in jet black. She shivered. General Wroth had a wicked streak.

    He wanted her to dress for him, and she didn’t have a problem with that—she was pleased that someone would finally enjoy her fabulous silks and lace. And it made a huge difference that he’d asked when he could have commanded. But as she soaked in a bath, she mused that she was still in a position where she had to depend that he would continue to show the same consideration. Which was intolerable for a creature like her.

    She’d half-expected her sisters to have arrived already—Nïx often could find her—but knew if they hadn’t come by now, she would have to win her freedom with her own tools and talents. He’d said he would return the chain when he was confident she would never leave. How hard would it be to act as though she wanted to stay forever?

    She dried off, tilting her head at the lingerie laid out. Why not use seduction to let him think she desired him above all others for all time? Play at love and act at surrender. As she smoothed the hose up her legs, she wondered if deception had ever sounded so delicious.

    She began trembling as she donned the bustier, and the material at the top skimmed over her hard nipples so sweetly. She was already wet with anticipation.

    After dressing, she lay on the bed, fantasizing about him inside her as his big hands worked her body. Would he drink her? She pictured him driving into her from behind, the length of his body stretched over hers to take her neck as well.

    Her fingers found their way down her belly and into her panties. He was supposed to be back soon, but did she really care if he caught her? She’d already done it for his pleasure, and what would he do if he found her like this and didn’t like it—break up with her?

    A stroke on her clitoris had her back arching. Had she ever been so wet? No, not until she’d impatiently waited in a vampire’s lair in tight black satin to seduce a warlord.

    Her eyes closed and her legs fell wide as she ran her finger lower. When she opened her eyes, half-lidded, she found Wroth staring at her from the foot of the bed.

    “Couldn’t wait?” His voice was husky, his eyes dark. He was already ripping off his clothes, his shaft bulging against the material of his pants.

    She shook her head.

    Wroth had known his Myst was a pagan, but she’d never truly looked it until he found her pleasuring herself in his bed in black hose, garters and satin, legs spread with abandon. Her glorious red hair haloed out along the pillow and her hand was in her panties delicately stroking her sex.

    She hadn’t stopped at his arrival.

    “I couldn’t have dreamed you’d be like this. I believe I’m dreaming now.”

    She arched her back.

    “Were you thinking of me?” Say yes…. He didn’t think he’d ever wanted to hear anything so badly.

    Her whiskey voice was as sexy as her body. “Yes, Wroth.”

    He groaned. “What were you thinking of?”

    “Of you drinking me while you were inside me,” she said, moaning the last words.

    Craving his bite too? “A dream.”

    She licked her lips. “In your dream do you make me wait for you much longer?”

    “You want this