Pure Ecstasy Page 3

  She didn’t actually make contact, but she knew that he felt the kinetic energy radiating from her fingertips as she glided them mere centimeters from his shoulders and back, down his taut ass and the back of his thighs.

  Leisurely, she came back around to face him again, her hand still raised to almost touch him, and his breath froze in his chest as though she had.

  Along his neck, across his chest, beading his nipples into hard little disks, down his abdomen, making the ridges there turn to steel, around his hips, to stop directly over his roaring erection.

  She bit her lower lip at the size of him, unable to be disguised by the formal tailor-fitted attire he wore.

  Her fingers curled slightly as if she were cupping her hand around him, though she still hadn’t actually touched him.

  His cock throbbed and pounded with blood as if she had, and she saw a small wet stain appear in the front of his dark gray slacks as moisture leaked from his aching head.

  “Shall we make a bargain, Pure One?” she asked silkily as she gazed up at him, cornering him like a hunted animal with no place to hide and nowhere to run.

  She curled her fingers a little more, and a gasp broke free of his lips, as his whole body shuddered agonizingly on the verge of orgasm.

  But she would not release him. Not until he gave her everything she wanted.

  “Give me ecstasy,” she demanded, confident of his capitulation.

  “Give me you.”

  Chapter Two

  Present day

  Seth shuddered in unfulfilled need, lost in memory of the encounter that altered the course of his Destiny.

  Viciously, he fisted his sex and squeezed, using one tortuous pain to mask the agony that punctured every cell, infiltrated his very bones, an agony that was soul-deep.

  Goddess above, he longed for her!

  He closed his eyes and swallowed in acidic gulps, harsh breaths racking his chest as he flung an arm over his face.

  Why did he feel this way? Years after they’d last been in each other’s presence.

  He felt such excruciating pain every time he thought of her—which was every other second of every day. The pain was so visceral it manifested itself physically. As if he were suffering the Decline, when a Pure One gave all of himself to the wrong lover.

  But he’d never had intercourse with her. He’d never released his life force into her body.

  He’d never succumbed to her wiles, though one could argue that she also never truly tried to seduce him.

  She’d merely teased him to the edge of sanity.

  Perhaps even beyond it.

  All he’d bargained with her, in the end, was his blood. Unlimited access for six months in return for her alliance.

  She’d been free to seduce him all she wanted, and he’d been free to resist her. She could touch him and tease him, lick him and suck him, though she’d never kissed him (except once) during their time together.

  Not his mouth, anyway. She’d touched and kneaded and kissed and probed every other part of his body, however.

  But not to pleasure him.

  It had always been about her power over him, her campaign to conquer him.

  She’d kept him by her side, in her bed, almost every hour of every day.

  And on rare occasions she’d taken him inside her. But only infinitesimally, before he pulled back or she released him.

  His breathing came harsher in memory, and he squeezed himself harder, trying in vain to relieve the ravaging ache in the root of him, or at least replace it with the pain he brought upon himself, rather than the power she still held over him.

  He groaned low like a wounded animal as his sex pulsed in protest at the undeserved punishment.

  Blue balls indeed.

  For the past three years since he’d struck that ill-fated bargain with the vampire queen, his male parts had suffered constant agony from lack of release. They felt so abused and tortured, he was surprised to find them still attached to his body.

  No amount of hand jobs would bring him even the smallest relief from the acute, throbbing pain, triggered by memories of her and their time together. Which unfortunately was too often on his mind.

  Seth flung his arm away and kneaded his eye sockets with the heels of his hands.

  Enough.

  He had work to do.

  More than ever the Pure Ones needed to be on guard and vigilant, what with Dalair’s capture and Sophia’s recent abduction by their nemesis, Medusa’s, minions.

  They’d managed to rescue Sophia, but not Dalair.

  They didn’t even know if he was dead or alive, though their young queen, newly Awakened, seemed certain that he was very much alive. Finding him and bringing him back was the only thing she thought about.

  That, and better understanding, so that she could better control, her reawakened powers.

  They’d moved the Shield, their base of operations where the Royal Zodiac gathered, from Boston to New York City, not five miles from the Chrysler Building.

  Where she resided.

  Jade.

  Seth had considered all options, domestic and foreign, for their new base, and despite his own misgivings, NYC was the best location.

  It was a human and vampire hub, the nexus of the strongest vampire hive in the world. It was also home for Inanna, Gabriel, their adopted son Benji, and Inanna’s parents, the once Dark Princess Ishtar, and her Mate, the legendary General that freed the Pure Ones from vampire rule—Tal-Telal. An important human ally of Medusa’s, the Russian mob boss Sergei Antonov, had deeply entrenched networks here.

  NYC was the eye of the tornado, and by that definition, perversely the safest place for the Dozen to be.

  If only the proximity to the vampire queen didn’t affect Seth the way it did—making him wake up hard and aching every morning and go to bed alone in unfulfilled agony.

  With natural efficiency, he got dressed and strode brusquely down the corridor to the Great Hall. He had piles of work to do and countless appointments to keep.

  The Dozen was still down by two—three—if Dalair was counted among the missing. The remaining Elite and Circlet members shared the responsibilities of the three missing comrades, which put everyone under increased stress in a time that was already exceedingly stressful.

  Medusa had not only won major strikes against the Pure Ones, she’d also destabilized the New England vampire base through illegal fight clubs and most recently, the development of a special bullet dubbed the “vampire killer.”

  Meanwhile, she continued to experiment with turning humans and Pure Ones into bloodsuckers through technology and modern medicine. Though the Chosen and a brilliant human geneticist by the name of Ava Monroe had stalled her progress, disturbing vampire sightings had been reported recently. The kind of crazed, soul-less bloodsuckers that were made, not born, and made through unsanctioned methods.

  Their nemesis seemed indiscriminate in her hatred of Pure and Dark Ones alike. Humans too, for that matter, though they seemed to be merely collateral damage in her undeclared war against the races.

  They’d won a few skirmishes themselves, the Pure Ones and their temporary allies, the New England vampires.

  Jade’s personal guard, the Chosen, had retrieved a list of names from Medusa’s highly fortified archives, which allowed them to know which Pure and Dark Ones she intended to target as recruits to her expanding army of deadly proficient, highly-trained, mind-controlled assassins. Ishtar had gravely injured Medusa in a critical battle that had been millennia in the making.

  Seth learned from his sources that the evil bitch was taking a back seat in the orchestration of mass chaos and destruction, her natural powers having receded significantly.

  The Creature that the Pure Ones first fought years ago at great cost to their own was now filling the void of her leadership, if one could call it that.

  A capricious, unfathomable “it” that was neither human, Dark nor Pure. Neither female nor male, as far as all those who’d encountered
it and lived could recall.

  But for all that, it was extremely effective in the continuation and realization of Medusa’s twisted agenda.

  If only they knew what she wanted. What it wanted. Besides the pain and suffering of others, what else were they after?

  At a polite rap on the doors of his private office in a corner of the Great Hall, Seth looked up from his documents and commanded, “Come.”

  One of the Chevaliers, the front line of defense, both Pure and human, against vampire threat, entered soundlessly and closed the doors behind him.

  The ex-Navy Seal, Seth noted and stood to shake his hand in the oft used modern age human greeting.

  Adam Morgan.

  Who’d recently returned from his undercover assignment as a fighter in the illegal clubs that Medusa and the Creature were spreading around the world, where the objective was not to win against one’s opponent but to beat them to a bloody death. And if not quite dead, then the losers were promptly torn apart by vampire spectators who’d bet in their favor.

  Seth had recalled Adam from his infiltration when word came from the New England vampire hive that the clubs had escalated to include vampires in the gruesome fights. Though Chevaliers were trained to fight vampires and hold their own, and Adam could more than hold his own, as he’d proven on numerous occasions, the risk was simply too great to keep him in the clubs.

  Vampires were at least ten times stronger and faster than humans, and when they ran in bloodthirsty packs, even the most seasoned Chevaliers wouldn’t stand a chance.

  “I have news,” Morgan reported without preamble, seating himself in the chair across from Seth’s gigantic desk.

  The ex-Seal would never lose his military baring, Seth surmised as he took note of the human’s impeccable posture and alert gaze.

  “Explain.”

  Since his return to their base, Adam had been tasked with gathering intel about the surrounding vampire hives—from the Great Lakes down to the Southeast coast, including the New England hive.

  “The escalation of body count and…exaggerated fights from the fight clubs,” though they both knew the fights had not been doctored or exaggerated by human cinematography, they’d been real vampire brawls captured on camera, “exposed the Dark Ones to human law enforcement, including all the branches of intelligence agencies, both known and secret,” Adam recounted.

  Seth nodded.

  He’d learned the same from his interactions with the Chosen. Though his…bond…with the vampire queen had ended, he’d maintained diplomatic communication with members of the Chosen guard, especially Maximus, their Commander.

  “I’m leveraging my network on the inside to help Maximus bring the suspicion and probes under control. We can’t risk mass exposure.”

  “Successful?” Seth queried.

  Morgan rolled his shoulder slightly, as if to work out a kink, but Seth knew that the man was strung tight with tension.

  Not so successful, then.

  “We’re working on it,” was the brief reply.

  “But that’s not all,” Seth assessed, seeing the Chevalier’s lips thin into a grim line.

  “Somehow, word spread that the New England hive and the Pure Ones have allied themselves together. The vampire nobles even got wind of how the Paladin was lost to us recently while working with the Chosen, but we didn’t retaliate against the hive because of the alliance. They also know about Inanna’s defection, Simone’s betrayal, and two other members of the Chosen taking human Mates, even though one of them was turned into a vampire.”

  Seth steepled his fingers together. He could tell where this conversation was headed.

  “Somehow, they learned of the Light Bringer’s parents as well. The mating between a Pure and Dark One, unpunished by the ruling vampire queen, has the elder nobles all but foaming at the mouth.”

  “Jade is in danger,” Seth said quietly.

  Morgan gave one nod in confirmation.

  “My sources tell me that not only are powerful hives outside of the New England territories banding together to potentially overthrow Jade Cicada’s rule and divide her dominion, but the powerful nobles in her own hive are stirring unrest and malcontent.”

  This much Seth also knew.

  Though he wouldn’t admit it to himself, it was perhaps the main reason he’d moved the Shield to NYC. If he was close, perhaps he could find a way to protect her.

  “Last night, there was an attack on the queen,” Morgan continued.

  Something rattled jarringly within Seth’s body at the statement, though he maintained outward composure.

  “Two of her Chosen managed to get her to safety, one of them sustaining heavy injuries in the process.”

  “And the queen?” Seth tried to keep his voice neutral, but it came out in a guttural rasp.

  “Unharmed but for a few scrapes,” Morgan said, and Seth let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

  “Ambush?”

  Morgan gave that brief nod again.

  “The queen was returning from a visit with one of the noble families. She and her guards, six total, were attacked by two dozen assassins. All eliminated, except herself and her two Chosen warriors.”

  “Were the assassins Dark or Pure?” Seth asked, knowing that Medusa had figured out a way to mind control both Kinds.

  “A mix,” Morgan reported. “Some turned to ashes, some turned to dust.”

  “Were the nobles involved?” Seth prodded in clipped tones.

  A savagery he’d never felt before threatened to haze his vision in a wash of violent red. He wanted the blood of those who tried to hurt her. He wanted to hunt them all down.

  “Uncertain,” was the terse response. “Still investigating. But my hunch is yes. There are traitors in her inner court. This ambush was only the opening salvo. The danger will intensify from here on.”

  “Tap your networks and stay close,” Seth ground out. “Are you working directly with the Chosen?”

  Morgan rolled his shoulder again, this time with a different sort of discomfort.

  “Not officially. But the queen’s head of security and I are in contact. She’s in the best position to assess any and all threats against Jade Cicada.”

  Seth forced himself to nod with some semblance of calmness that he didn’t really feel.

  “Report back if there’s any news.”

  A sharp nod in response, and then Morgan swiftly stood and strode out of the office.

  Seth stared down at the documents before him, awaiting his perusal, stamp and signature. The words ran together like trails of haphazard ants, his mind reeling from Morgan’s report.

  This time, when the memories came, he was helpless against their invasion…

  3 years ago.

  Seth averted his eyes and turned his head to the side, clenching his jaw so tightly his back molars creaked in protest.

  But he could not block out the sounds of the orgy taking place in the gigantic bed not ten feet away from him, the writhing bodies tangled together barely shielded by the wispy, semi-transparent silk that streamed from the four-poster canopy.

  This was his second fortnight with the vampire queen, as the Pure Blood Slave that she kept always within reach.

  But true to their bargain, she’d never taken his body the way she’d gorged upon his blood.

  Every sundown, she brought herself to orgasm while she took her fill of his blood, the smell of her arousal and release infusing into the bedsheets, into his very skin. Making him unbearably hard and desperate to penetrate her.

  But he held back.

  Even though she tortured his cock mercilessly with her soft hands, her wet mouth. Often sinking her fangs directly into the thick dorsal vein that pulsed in his erection and nursing voraciously at his sex, though he stubbornly refused her his seed.

  Sometimes she’d “play” with him for hours before starting her night. Endlessly fascinated by his body and every vein beneath his skin.

  She’d marked him her B
lood Slave the very first night he’d sealed their bargain, by making two deep cuts into the twin veins that led from his lower abdomen to his groin. The epidermis over the thin, long cuts had healed over, but the veins beneath the skin stayed open and pulsing, purplish lines that demonstrated her possession of him, continuously throbbing and burning to Serve her needs.

  She’d refrained from taking total physical possession of him, however, by not consummating their Blood Bond with sexual intercourse. Had she done so, not only his blood, but also his body, would obey her every whim, no matter the command of his own mind.

  When dawn began to creep into the night sky, she’d invite her harem into her chambers to take the edge off of her insatiable sexual needs. He’d never wanted to stay and witness these interminable, noisy sessions, but she wouldn’t let him leave. She wouldn’t even allow him to turn his back.

  Something ripped apart inside of him whenever she disappeared into the tangle of bodies, breathy moans and heavy sighs.

  And he didn’t even like her.

  Well, that wasn’t entirely true.

  If he was completely honest with himself, he admired Jade Cicada a great deal.

  She was a shrewd and ruthlessly effective ruler. Her methods were sometimes unnecessarily gruesome, but the outcome was always just. She was danger and allure wrapped up in an enticing, seemingly unthreatening package. She was no warrior by training, her body soft and utterly feminine.

  But she was deadly powerful nevertheless.

  He’d watched her turn a law-breaking Rogue into a shriveled cadaver with just the touch of her hand upon his arm. She didn’t end his existence totally. He needed to suffer for his crimes, she’d said languidly.

  In such a state, the gaunt and enervated vampire wouldn’t be able to entice humans into a Blood Contract. He’d barely be able to move, having collapsed in a twisted heap upon her shiny marble floors, struggling for breath, when she’d finally released him from her grip. The guards had dragged him out like so much trash. His death would come in the form of a slow and excruciating starvation for blood.