Entice Me at Twilight

Page 19

Damn.
It was impossible to resist tasting Felicia again. Everything inside him screamed at him to take in her unique flavor, the one that branded her as his, in any way he could.
Reconfirm his intuition, starting with her sweet mouth.
He bent closer to Felicia. Holding his breath, Duke felt the heat of her lips just beneath his. Another fraction and ...
"Don't," she whispered.
Bugger! All human brides kissed their grooms at the altar. That would be custom in Felicia's mind. The fact she'd refused him even a simple meeting of lips told him that she didn't consider him her husband. Pain sliced through him.
"Am I your first surrogate?" The witch jerked Duke's attention back to the present.
In a manner. He'd had sex with many in the past. Easy, quick, always understanding a wizard's needs and never asking for more than a quick exchange of energy.
This was the first time he'd use one in place of a mate, however. He knew the exchange would be different. Because he was mated, he could no longer have intercourse with another female. But he had no idea what to expect.
"Yes."
That took her aback. "You've been mated how long?"
Duke glanced at his watch, grateful for something new on which to focus besides his torturous memories. "Less than an hour."
"Oh. Right, then." Still, he heard confusion in her voice as she wondered why he was here so soon after making another his for life. "This is unusual. New mates are usually so fixated that--"
"My mate is ... ill." He grabbed on to the first excuse that jumped in his head.
Instantly, his words erased the question from her hazel eyes and would explain any lingering anomaly in his signature. It also covered his tracks if Mathias ever questioned this witch.
"Oh." Pity tinged her expression. "I'm sorry."
If she only knew how hopeless his situation was. An ill mate might recover. One in love with his brother? He was fucking doomed.
Compassion slid across the witch's lovely oval face. "Then back to my original question, clothed or naked?"
"Clothed, please." Definitely.
She shrugged. "We'll try it that way. Doesn't always work ..."
"Why not?" Did clothing act as a barrier to the exchanged energy?
The surrogate sent him a wry smile. "Wizards are still members of the male species who prefer a lot of visual stimulation."
Remembering that Felicia was his and just how close he'd come to tasting her again ... "Arousal won't be a problem for me."
"If you change your mind, let me know." She hesitated, then stuck out her hand.
"We started somewhat backward. Sorry. I'm--"
"I don't want to know, if you don't mind. Nothing against you."
She dropped her hand with an understanding smile. "Of course."
Duke gritted his teeth. Why the hell had he come here, the magical equivalent of a brothel? Of course, magickind looked upon surrogates more like medical practitioners than prostitutes, which always confused the human side of him. They did provide nourishment and necessary care. He couldn't argue with that. But the delivery of care was completely sexual.
"Now that you're mated, do you know what happens next?"
He must look as lost as he felt, damn it. "Not ... exactly."
How did one siphon sexual energy from a woman he couldn't--and didn't want to--touch?
"Usually, we'll lie on the bed beside each other. In this case, clothed. The idea is to exchange energy, as before, but without bodily contact."
"Yes." Obviously. But how?
She must have sensed his confusion. "You pursue your path to gratification while I pursue my own."
His path to ... "I'm supposed to masturbate?"
A small frown pinched her mouth at his word choice. "Self-pleasure. I do the same. The goal is for us to reach peak in unison."
Lying next to a total stranger when he only wanted Felicia and to feel her sweet body under his, catching her soft moans with his kiss? Maybe arousal would be a problem after all.
Still, he had only two choices: return to Felicia and coax her to his bed or stay here with his nameless surrogate.
Duke had promised not to touch Felicia--then almost immediately broken his promise. If she hadn't put a stop to the kiss, he'd still be at her mouth now, devouring her as he consumed the rest of her body.
No choice. He had to stay here.
Cursing, he walked to the far side of the bed and sat stiffly. Sighed. He removed his shoes, then forced himself to lie supine, head on the downy pillow.
God, he'd give anything not to be here. Did Bram feel this anger and aversion every time he had to generate energy without his mysterious Emma?
The surrogate sat on the opposite side of the bed and eyed him. "You're welcome to get more comfortable, if you like."
In other words, strip off. "I'm fine."
She shrugged off her blouse and reached for the hooks at the back of her bra.
He looked away. "Is that necessary?"
At his side, she paused. "You don't want to be here; I understand. You may remain clothed, but I must achieve a certain level of comfort to do my job properly. We can turn off the lights, if you wish."
"Please."
With a snap, the interior went dim, and Duke felt the bed dip as she lowered herself beside him, so close he sensed her body heat and smelled the scent of her skin, something like crisp cotton, summertime, and grass. Not unpleasant.
Just not the scent he longed for.
"What's her name?" the surrogate asked softly.
"Felicia." He heard the reverence in his voice and his stomach plummeted to his toes. He was so bloody gone for her.
Rarely had he shared the sheets with the same woman twice. Being a wealthy somebody in the human world and a virtual no one among magickind made for a complicated life. What did he know of commitment or love? But suddenly he felt just that for a woman who had belonged to his brother first. And still did in her heart.
He swallowed. God, he'd known Felicia for two days. He couldn't love her.
Admire her, yes. She'd handled the abrupt changes in her life well, all things considered.
No hysteria. No screaming or crying. Just acceptance. She'd asked astute questions and assimilated remarkably well. She hadn't judged him for being less than human. She had listened to others' sage advice. And she'd remained amazingly loyal to Mason, even after that kiss Duke had all but forced on her. He didn't like it, but he admired her for it.
"Lovely name," the witch said, then wriggled a bit on the bed.
He risked a quick glance at her. In the shadowed room, he discerned her outline enough to see she'd dropped her little black skirt. She tossed a pair of lacy knickers on the bed between them.
Wincing, Duke scooted farther away, his leg gripping the edge of the bed.
She sighed. "Touch the glass jar on the table beside you. Think of your mate's scent, then light the candle. That's what you'll smell during the process."
Thank God. He eagerly complied.
Within seconds, Felicia's scent filled the air and he inhaled deeply, relaxing for the first time since walking through the door.
Perfect.
Another moment later, the witch at his side whispered, "Um ... we can't proceed yet. You need to, ah ... your zip, sir."
Yes, because this terrible train wreck wouldn't be complete until he had to wank himself off beside a stranger.
Biting back a curse, Duke unfastened his trousers, closed his eyes, and reached for his cock. "No offense. Let's get this over with."
"None taken," she murmured as her hands moved over her body in the dark and she moaned.
With the scent of Felicia around him, Duke sank into a vision where she dropped every stitch and welcomed him with open arms, her blue eyes fastened on him as she whispered how much she wanted him and surrendered herself to him utterly.
Getting lost in the fantasy, Duke stroked himself, imagining that he plunged deeply into Felicia's warm wetness and felt her close around him while his spine all but melted with pleasure. His breaths accelerated. The feminine, keening cries around him fed his vision, his fever. His grip tightened, moving faster now, imagining Felicia raising her hips to him in offering, drawing him deeper into her body like she never wanted him to leave.
The fever in him rose. Deep down, he felt Felicia's aching emptiness and confusion. He'd make it better, be a true mate to her in every way, if she'd let him.
Because he loved her.
In his mind, he told her so. Her cries of pleasure nearing peak, she whimpered for him, then whispered that she loved him too.
The ecstasy of those words blew the top of his head off. He shuddered, tensed, screaming through one of the strongest orgasms in memories.
But when his breathing slowed and he opened his eyes, Duke was still in an unfamiliar bedroom beside an unfamiliar witch, his softening cock in his own hand.
The buzz kill was instant. He hadn't quenched his need for Felicia one bit. Instead, he'd only made it stronger.
Cursing, Duke used the appointed towel to clean up. He zipped up his trousers, donned his overcoat, and was out the door before the surrogate could even turn on the lights.
Bram stopped pacing and sat beside Felicia on the serviceable brown couch as he viciously pressed the button to end the call on his mobile. "Duke's still not bloody answering. You mated two hours ago. You're certain both of you spoke all the words?"
Felicia didn't appreciate Bram's badgering. Truthfully, she was still trying to process the enormity of what Hurstgrove had pledged to her: his long life, his fidelity, his devotion. Sacred words, according to him. She hadn't expected that. She'd been required to promise the same in return. Nor had she been unmoved by the vow. As soon as she'd spoken the last of the words, Felicia had yearned to throw her arms around him, kiss him.
Merge with him. Cement their bond.
All of that only deepened her desire for him.
Only thoughts of Mason, the wedding they'd nearly shared--and her own fear of a broken heart--had stopped her from acting on it.
Hurstgrove's intensity overwhelmed her. Fighting him felt like trying to stay afloat in a life raft in the midst of a tidal wave. If he ever kissed her again ... Felicia had no illusions; her will to resist him would crumble.
"He spoke a few sentences, like a vow, then had me say this in return." She uncurled her fist and exposed the ball of paper in her hand.
Bram laid it flat on the dark wooden table in front of them and cursed. "Then that should be everything. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you have no magical signature."
After explaining the concept to her quickly, her brow furrowed. "Does that mean the mating didn't take?"
"Normally, that's not a possibility. If the words are spoken, the deed is done, but you ... are different." He sighed. "Did you feel anything once the Call was issued and the Binding given?"
Other than the insane urge to offer him all that she was, body and heart? Those had been frightening, dizzying moments. He'd been so near, his mouth hovering right over hers, gaze delving deep like he wanted her soul. And she'd wanted to give it--and more--to him. That wasn't magical, she feared, just desire for him asserting itself, as it had since the moment they met.
"I don't think so," she hedged.
"Did he kiss you afterward? Take you to bed?"
Felicia drew back. "I get that you're a right nosy bastard, but that's none of your affair."
He gritted his teeth. "You spoke words, and now he's absent, possibly out in public where others might see his signature. He must look as if he's fully bonded and without any residual trace of your imprint. If the words alone didn't do that, we need to rectify the situation."
How? Did Bram think he could order her to sleep with her fiance's brother?
An arrow of heat pierced her at the thought of Hurstgrove peeling away her clothing, caressing his way down her skin, claiming her lips with an onslaught of the carnal need she'd seen in his eyes. Of her touching every inch of his hard, male form in return.
Felicia cleared her throat, but it did nothing to dispel the heat swirling in her body.
"Did he even try to seduce you?"
Not for anything would Felicia tell Bram that she had rebuffed Hurstgrove moments after they'd exchanged vows. The last thing she needed from the wizard was a tirade.
"Don't badger her," Olivia chastised as she stepped into the room. "I may not have the magical ability to read minds, at least not yet, but I don't need it to know you're making her uncomfortable. Of course Duke wanted to seduce her. Duh! But you don't know a damn thing about being human. She can't be pledged to one brother, then joined to another without some ... transition. She needs time." She sighed. "Have you seen Sabelle?"
Felicia blinked, then smothered a smile. Olivia had certainly put Bram in his place. Even he looked surprised.
"Sabelle is likely with Ice." He sent Felicia a pointed stare. "And time is one thing we don't have if we want to keep everyone alive."
"I'm aware of that," Felicia snapped. "I've done everything you've asked."
"Translation: back off," Olivia supplied.
Felicia didn't make new friends easily. Trust was difficult, and she'd always felt different because she cared little for shopping, watching the soaps like Coronation Street, or hopping from club to club. She'd always been something of a loner. But Olivia she could like.