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Vortex blues, p.6

Vortex Blues, page 6

 

Vortex Blues
 


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  “Are one of you going to let the sensi-screw or whatever the hell you call me in on what the blood oath is?”

  “It’s actually sensi-freak, not a sensi-screw, although I think that term could catch on.” Denali tucked his long dark hair behind one pointed ear. “The reason Molly gasped is because taking a blood oath with a succubus—cursed or ancient—is the equivalent of marriage without the possibility of divorce. Not to mention if either one of us dies, the other dies too. But on the other hand, our life expectancy goes way up. Sort of a combined power and longevity principle.”

  The room fell silent as Molly digested the news. She couldn’t imagine ever trusting someone else enough to tie her destiny to theirs—not even Denali. “Why, Den? Why would you risk such a thing?”

  He sighed as he watched her. “I know this is hard for you to fathom, and that’s why I didn’t tell you. You’ve been betrayed, and you don’t believe love really exists between two people. But it does, Molly. You just have to trust enough to let it in.” His earnest expression pleaded with her to understand.

  An instant denial sprung to her lips, but she bit her tongue. Denali had already chosen. Her words wouldn’t help the situation.

  “Denali, is there any way Cleo could’ve been the one who assaulted you earlier?” Guthrie managed to keep his voice neutral and non-threatening, and Molly was grateful. Elves were an extremely proud people—even the half-breeds. And if Denali thought Guthrie was being disrespectful to himself or Cleo, he would refuse to help on principle—even in the current situation.

  “To be honest, I could only discern what I’ve already told you—they were powerful and a succubus. But Cleo couldn’t have done this to me, I’d bet my life on it.”

  Guthrie sighed and stood. “Sounds like you may have already.”

  Chapter Five

  Mitch stepped outside Denali’s room just in time to see all color drain from Molly’s face a second before her legs buckled. He rushed forward and caught her right before her head would’ve cracked against the baseboards.

  He gathered her into his arms, fear and concern twisting inside his gut as he brushed her silky brown hair away from her face. His stomach knotted tighter as the long crescents of her dark lashes lay motionless against her pale cheeks. Her energy barely buzzed against his senses, concerning him. Ever since he’d laid eyes on her, her energy had pushed against his senses like a living thing keeping him uncomfortably and intimately aware of her.

  She moaned and her lips parted, but her eyes didn’t open as he’d hoped. “Molly. Can you hear me?” He hated the fear lacing his voice.

  “Has she not fed yet today?”

  Denali’s stern voice startled him.

  He opened his mouth to answer, and the elf gestured his words away as he knelt to place his fingers lightly over Molly’s forehead. “You do know how Molly became a succubus?”

  Fear for Molly sparked his temper. “I don’t think we have time for stories right now.”

  Denali pierced him with a withering gaze, and his voice snapped with impatience. “Molly is a treasured friend, I would never endanger her. Bring her.” He gestured for Mitch to follow, and a few moments later, they stepped inside a round room and Denali pulled the door shut behind them. “Molly’s apartment.”

  Shimmering sparkles surrounded them and then disappeared as suddenly as they’d appeared. “What the fuck?”

  “It’s the equivalent of a magic elevator or teleporter. Molly has only given permission for certain people to use it to reach her room. And I’m one of them, although I don’t know for how long if she doesn’t forgive me for keeping the blood oath with Cleo from her.” He opened the door and stepped into a spacious apartment decorated in varying shades of blue and purple. Sun streamed in through the windows, almost in invitation, and the spicy scent he couldn’t place earlier filled his senses.

  He followed the elf down the hallway and into Molly’s bedroom, where he pulled back the comforter and laid her gently on the soft cotton sheets of her king-sized bed.

  “Now, I think you need to hear how Molly came to be a succubus.”

  Mitch sat on the bed next to Molly’s still form, careful not to jostle her and then nodded for the elf to continue. Apparently, this story had relevance, and he couldn’t deny he wanted to know.

  Denali settled himself in an overstuffed armchair and crossed his legs Indian-style. “She was the eldest daughter of one of London’s elite families during the early 1800’s. And as most daughters of that era, she was married off to a wealthy Duke who ignored her and spent all his attentions at the clubs and with his several mistresses. All the while she was expected to stay at home, manage the household and the servants, and present the image of a perfect wife.”

  Anger flashed through him hot and quick at the unfairness of her situation—even though it happened two centuries ago. Mitch couldn’t imagine Molly as a quiet subservient wife. He shuddered at the image and gently stroked his thumb down her silky cheek as a surge of emotions he didn’t want to name made him want to protect her from any and all threats. “How could any man want to repress her spirit like that?”

  He didn’t realize he’d said it aloud until Denali answered.

  “It was the norm then—marriages were purely to produce an heir and a spare, and to keep money in the upper realms of society.” Denali sighed. “Not that I blame her, but she became increasingly dissatisfied with her lot in life. So when a young handsome merchant began offering her his attentions, she took them.”

  “Let me guess, the asshole Duke caught her.” Mitch’s hands curled into fists and he took a deep breath to help ward against what he knew must’ve happened next.

  Denali’s laugh was short and bitter. “Something like that. Except in an ironic twist of fate, his mistresses were all succubi. When he brought his favorite mistresses with him to the merchant’s to buy them some trinkets, he discovered that his gently bred wife had cuckolded him with a lowly merchant.” His gaze caressed Molly’s face, and jealousy spurted through Mitch even though no sexual awareness inhabited the elf’s gaze. “He cursed her to hell, not knowing his ancient mistresses would take his curse seriously and make it a reality.”

  “What happened?” Visions of the siren killing his father flashed through his mind making him shudder.

  “The Duke dragged Molly home intent on punishing her. However, when a new succubus arises, she must feed to survive. So the Duke’s curse turned on him, and he became Molly’s first meal. Then she moved on to many others before Cleo found her and taught her to control it.” Denali laughed. “As for the mistresses, they somehow managed to install themselves in his estate and drain it dry before moving on. Ironic, isn’t it?”

  Ironic, but the bastard deserved even worse than that. Mitch suddenly wished to be able to torture a man who’d been dead for two hundred years. “If she was cursed, then isn’t there a way to undo the curse?”

  “There always is, but only Cleo and Molly know what it is. Neither have ever revealed it to me since Molly refuses to ever use it.”

  “Stubborn woman.”

  “True. But for now, she needs sustenance.” The elf placed a gentle hand over her heart. “You must’ve realized by now that your energy and hers spark against each other. That’s drained her faster than usual.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” As soon as the words escaped, the knowledge hit him in the gut like a sledgehammer, threatening to knock him back. No woman had ever affected him like this one. He’d chalked it up to her thrall when he’d first met her, but she’d quickly proved him wrong. How the hell was he to know he’d drain her powers when he had never met a succubus before today, and now he was drowning in them?

  “I see from your expression you know what I speak of. There are, of course, options.”

  “Which are?”

  “We have plenty of half humans here who could…feed her. Or you could always do it yourself.”

  Blood and lust rushed toward Mitch’s sudden erection
so fast he though he might pass out. He knew exactly what the elf meant by “feed” and apparently so did his body. And the thought of anyone else touching Molly in that fashion flared his jealousy, and his sudden protective instinct.

  “She’s unconscious. Do you expect me or anyone else to force sex on an unwilling woman?”

  Denali pursed his lips as he studied Mitch. “I assure you, there are others here who wouldn’t think twice. After all, this would be like depriving a human of food.”

  A low growl echoed through the room, and Mitch was surprised to realize it came from him. “Is there a way to wake her?”

  Denali nodded as if Mitch had spoken his feelings aloud. “Skin to skin contact will allow her to absorb some of your energy—maybe enough to wake her.” He rose and started toward the doorway, but then turned back. “Consider carefully though. Once a succubus needs this much energy, she may not be able to stop until it either becomes very uncomfortable for the partner—or fatal.”

  The comment sobered Mitch instantly, but didn’t change his mind. Somehow, in the course of a single day, his energy, his emotions and as corny as it sounded, even his soul had become entwined with this woman. He wouldn’t let anyone else touch her.

  Mine! his gut insisted, and his mind agreed, no matter how far fetched the thought.

  He looked up, only to realize the elf had left and closed the door behind him.

  A soft groan escaped from Molly, and spurred him to action. He peeled off his clothes as if they’d suddenly caught fire, then gently undressed Molly. He didn’t take time to appreciate her creamy skin and full curves like he would in normal circumstances. If he lived through reviving her, maybe he’d get that chance.

  He lay next to her on the bed, the soft pillow-top mattress giving under his weight. He gently turned Molly on her side so she fit perfectly spooned in front of him. His erection nestled against her ass, as if they were fashioned to fit together. He reached his free arm over her and splayed his fingers across the soft skin of her slightly rounded stomach, then pulled her body tight against him.

  He gasped as energy and power flared between them, everywhere skin met skin. Almost as if each pore of his skin had become a sudden erogenous zone. More power than had buffeted him earlier when he’d lost control and kissed her. His skin tingled and warmed against the contact, and he couldn’t resist stroking his fingers over the curve of her hip and then down and around to the edge of the silky curls that covered her mound.

  Molly shifted against him, a low ‘mmm’ sound escaping from her throat. Her motion pushed his fingers farther into her nether curls and he bit back a gasp at the exotic texture under his seeking fingers. Power sizzled and popped in the wake of his touch, and she slowly arched, pushing her mound tight against his hand.

  Her movement caused her waterfall of hair to slide off her shoulder to pool behind her even as it tickled his chin. He leaned over her so he could place a tender kiss against the side of her neck. As his lips brushed the silky softness of her skin, power flared as if he’d touched an electric current. The current brought no pain, only arousal, heavy and thick that called to him in an unbreakable song.

  “Guthrie?” Her words were slurred and faint.

  Relief warred with a sudden new wave of desire. “Right here, Molly. Tell me what you need.”

  Her hand slowly lifted, as if every movement was a struggle, and she covered his hand, holding it tight to her mound. “I need…more.”

  “More?” he whispered without thinking. Hurt arrowed through him, surprising him. Of course, she needed more energy. Hadn’t Denali told him this was just food for her?

  Get a grip, Guthrie! What did you expect?

  “More of you…Mitch.”

  Even as warmth spread through his chest, he knew himself for an idiot. He couldn’t explain why or how, but this woman had gotten under his skin and into somewhere he thought closed off—his heart. He’d gladly do anything for her, including give his life and his energy to keep her safe. He wondered if this is how his father felt when he gave his life to the siren. Mitch had always assumed he’d been caught in her spell, but he’d heard enough whispers at the funeral to see the possibility for the first time.

  Molly pressed his hand farther down until his middle finger slipped through the curls to find the swollen nub that guarded her center. All thoughts of his father and anything else scattered like dust in the wind.

  Power flared between them again and they both moaned at the sudden sensation. But this time, the power didn’t recede, it teased and throbbed throughout his body, enticing him and encouraging him. All thoughts of resistance melted away, and his fingers traced downward. Her slit was hot and wet, and the musky scent of her arousal rose around him infusing his senses and making his mouth water. He wanted to trace and touch every inch of her, and then start over, exploring her with his tongue until she screamed his name. Then he wanted to slowly slide into her welcoming warmth and claim her as his.

  He shifted, gently guiding Molly onto her back without taking his hand from her enticing slick heat. Her eyelids fluttered open and grey eyes swimming with desire stared up at him. She licked her lips and whispered, “Don’t want to put you in danger. You don’t have to do this.”

  His chest tightened as the possibility of her rejection loomed large. He traced his hand upward to lay it gently on her stomach. “Hunger, supernatural shit and everything else aside—do you want me, Molly? Me—Mitch Guthrie, not just another meal. But me.”

  As each second of silence stretched between them, Mitch’s heart cracked a little more.

  “Damned frustrating man.” A wan smile stretched her lips, and without words, Mitch saw the answer shining in her eyes.

  Without conscious thought, he closed the distance between them until their breath mingled and their lips met. As if the small taste of power shared fired both of them, their kiss became suddenly urgent, and Mitch rolled on top of her, bracing himself on one forearm and his legs between hers. Mitch lost himself in the sensations. The honeyed spice of her mouth, the slight cinnamon scent of her mixed with the herb he still couldn’t quite place, and the unique scent of their arousal permeating the air around them, cocooning them inside their own world of pure desire.

  Molly slipped one arm around his neck, burying her fingers in the hair at his nape and pulling him closer. Her other hand kneaded his lower back, then trailed down to his ass, as she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him close.

  She thrust against him, and the exquisite friction of his swollen shaft against her springy nether curls almost pushed him beyond reason. He pulled away from her drowning kiss and buried his face against her neck while he battled the growing tingling deep inside his balls with deep breaths and thoughts of ice cold showers.

  Molly ran her nails lightly down his back and shifted until he slipped inside her tight velvet heat, surprising him with her quick agility. He gasped as he filled her and she began to move beneath him. Urgent arousal arrowed through him and his body moved with her, of its own accord. With every thrust, her full breasts pressed against his chest, her turgid nipples teasing against his chest hair even as he pounded inside her delicious heat.

  His balls tightened and the intense tingling gave him scant warning before his release exploded through him. He roared as what felt like lava thundered through his shaft to spill inside Molly’s welcoming heat, branding her, making her his. An instant later, Molly gasped, then screamed his name as her orgasm took her. The walls of her sex milked him exquisitely until it seemed like their orgasm lasted for hours instead of seconds.

  Chapter Six

  When Molly’s mind cleared, she sighed as Mitch’s comforting warmth both on top of her and deep inside her continued to tingle against her sensitive skin. With her arms still wrapped around him, her thighs loosely looped around his waist, she was afraid to move—afraid to shatter the moment.

  When he’d come inside her, he’d given her all the energy she needed and more, but beyond that, she’d exp
erienced something she never had before—not even with her long ago merchant who had shown her the first sexual tenderness she’d ever experienced. Her feelings for Mitch—she couldn’t think of him as “Guthrie” after this—were warm and deep like a fluffy comforter against naked skin on a cold day, but also strong and terrifying like the rapids in the Colorado River.

  No other joining had left her with an emotional connection—a connection and a tenderness that scared her. And none had left her wanting for more, purely to share intimacy with that specific person. Like it or not—Mitch was neither food nor sustenance, and she was terrified to look deeper inside herself and figure out what that meant.

  Was this what Denali had talked about when he’d told her about his blood oath with Cleo? She didn’t know, but pushed the thought aside to examine later. Mitch’s warm breath fluttered against her ear and sent sensual shivers through her body making her want to cuddle closer.

  As if sensing her thoughts, Mitch lifted his head to look down at her, his dark chocolate hair falling over one brow, his sea green eyes darkened with languor. One side of his sensual mouth curved up, the lopsided half grin the sexiest thing she’d ever seen.

  He brushed his lips over hers, and the warmth inside her soul deepened and twined with desire that just moments ago lay content like a sleeping dragon. Not wanting to ruin the moment with words, she tightened her legs around Mitch’s hips and dipped her tongue inside his mouth to tangle with his. His taste filled her—masculine and spicy—and when he hardened inside her again, she growled low in her throat as the dragon woke fully and roared for more.

  Using the leverage from her leg gripped around his waist, she pushed sideways, effectively rolling him over until she straddled him, his swollen erection still fully seated inside her. She relaxed her weight on top of him, groaning as the tip hit just the right spot deep inside her.

  “Dear God, woman. I’ve never recovered so quickly. You’re going to kill me.” He must’ve realized what he said because he raised his head, the too-sexy half-smile still present. “Make sure I die extremely happy, okay?”

 
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