“Who says I’m not?”
She smiled, one that light up those blue eyes. “Ah-ah-ah, no answering a question with a question.”
He swore his heart skipped a beat. Damn but her smile was addictive. “Let’s just say I haven’t found the right woman yet.”
“And who would that be?”
“Are you volunteering for the job?”
Shit, how the hell had that slipped out? Of course, that didn’t mean he didn’t want to hear her answer.
Her head tilted to the side again, considering. “Would I fit the role, your highness?”
Yesterday, he would’ve had no qualms telling her precisely why she would never be able to fill that role. Today…
“From the day I was born, my father drilled into my head the need to continue the bloodline by marrying a woman of noble birth. In our world, that means a member of a ruling family who can trace her lineage back to at least the tenth century. To make sure the blood remained pure.” Anger rose as he remembered exactly the words his father had used, words that had had everything to do with control. “My mother was the last-born child of her line, as was my father. They did their duty by producing me.”
Amy Jo’s blue eyes dimmed considerably. “Sounds cold.”
“It was.” He’d never admitted that before. Not even to himself. “They lived in the same building but it was like two strangers sharing the space.”
“Did they love you?”
He snorted. “They loved what I represented.”
Compassion shone in the depths of those blue eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
Damn it, this woman should
not
be able to make his heart beat faster and his blood burn like it was lava. “Are you and Marco close?”
Now that was a million-dollar question and one that should’ve made him shut off his verbal diarrhea. But those eyes… “I would like us to be. I love my brother even though I didn’t know he existed until he was fourteen.”
She paused and he knew she was picking through words carefully. “How did you find out?”
“We met over my father’s grave.”
That silenced her for a few seconds. “Gee, you two have some history, don’t you?”
He nodded, his gaze still locked on hers. “You could say that.”
“My daddy left after my mom had me, so I guess I could have other brothers or sisters out there in addition to the three I already know about. Guess you weren’t all that happy to find out that way, huh?”
“It wouldn’t have been my first choice, no. But I am happy to have him.”
Especially since a bit of the pressure to produce an heir had settled onto Marco’s shoulders, as well. He just wished they could find a way past all the rest of the bullshit their father had left them with.
He wondered what Marco would say if he told him how much guilt he felt for the way Marco had been treated by his father. How much he felt he had to atone for.
“You’re happy not to be the only one any more, aren’t you?”
This woman was much more perceptive than he gave her credit for. Something else to add to the increasingly delectable puzzle of Amy Jo.
Maybe a little sex would help them both sleep.
The idea had been sitting on the back burner of his brain since he’d walked into her room to babysit. He’d tried to ignore it, dismiss it, shame himself into denying just how much he was attracted to her.
But he couldn’t deny himself any longer. He leaned forward, her eyes widening as he came closer then ran one finger down her jaw. “Does this hurt?”
He could have sworn she shivered before she leaned away. She wasn’t unaware of him, either.
“Like a bitch.”
He smiled at her phrasing. “I am sorry about that, but we couldn’t give you another Bullet. Do you want me to heal it?”
She didn’t answer right away, sucking in her bottom lip to bite on it. “Will you be okay afterward? I mean, I don’t want to hurt you like you were after healing Bella. I can live with a bruise.”
Gods be damned. The woman might just as well throw him on the bed and jump him. He wanted her. Knew it was just a matter of time. And why not? They were adults and sex was serious stress relief. But was she able to even think about sex, after what those monsters had done to her?
He let his lips lift in an approximation of a smile. “I’ll be fine. It won’t hurt. It’s magic.”
Her easy smile answered his. “I bet that’s what all the shapeshifters say.”
“Amy Jo.”
Her eyes widened even more. “Yeah?”
“Shut up.”
He reached out to cup her jaw in both hands. Her skin felt like silk beneath his, her warmth making his fingers itch to caress her.
Holding her gaze, he let his pinky brush the fast-beating artery in her neck, felt her throat contract as she swallowed hard. Her lids slid to half-mast as he drew the heat from her bruise into his hands. The injury wasn’t life-threatening, would have healed by itself in a few days. Still, he hated the constant reminder of the violence he’d done to her.
It only took a minute to heal the bruise. And when he was finished, he let his hands rest against her pale skin.
“Diego.”
“Yes?”
“Are you finished?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
She threw her arms around his neck and pulled him toward her, dragging him onto the bed with her.
Well, drag probably wasn’t the right word because he came without a fight. Hell, he’d been waiting for some sign that showed she wasn’t terrified of him so he could kiss her.
Better this way that she’d made the first move.
Much better.
Stretching out beside her, he tilted her head so he could kiss her even deeper. Her mouth opened beneath his, her tongue curling around his as he stroked in and out. Moaning, she arched into him, her hands digging into his shoulders, urging him closer.
Hot and sweet, her mouth clung to his with a hint of desperation he understood completely. Heart pounding against his ribs, hands locked on her waist, he felt as if he couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t get enough of her to satisfy the raging hunger roaring in his head, in his gut.
Her unique flavor sank into his body like a drug and he sank just a little deeper under her influence.
Breaking away, despite her attempts to hold onto him, he strung kisses along her jaw to her ear, nipping at her earlobe, before licking the skin behind it, causing her to shiver and her hands to sink deeper into his shoulders, her nails puncturing his skin through his cotton t-shirt. The slight pain made whatever sanity he might have had vacate the premises. All he had left was sensation.
His hands slid up from her shorts to the soft skin of her waist, stroking, kneading. Her body arched toward him as her head twisted away, baring more of her neck. He took the hint and ran his tongue from her collarbone to ear.
She moaned, bumping her hip into his erection, making it throb and ache. Already hard, his body practically vibrated with desire for her.
His lips covered hers again as his hands continued to tunnel under her shirt until he cupped her breasts in his hand. Firm and sleek as satin, they nestled into his palm, a perfect fit.
Her breath stuttered to a halt and he opened his eyes to find hers fluttering open. Wide and now a deep stormy blue, they gazed into his.
He pulled back, just enough so he could see her, try to gauge her reaction. “Amy Jo. Are you sure?”
After a few, interminable seconds, the corners of her mouth tilted up at the corners and her hands slipped beneath his t-shirt to splay across his back.
“Yes. I’m sure.”
Thank the Gods.
He smiled as he ran his hands down the length of her body, caressing the lean muscles of her thighs then back up to her hips, past her ribs to her breasts. He kneaded the firm mounds until she squirmed, thrusting her hips into his in an ever-increasing rhythm, each movement rubbing his erection against the seam between her legs.
The vague notion that this was probably a bad idea evaporated the second she put her hand on his cock through his jeans and wrapped her fingers around him.
She moaned as he popped the button on her shorts, dragged down the zipper and slid his hand into her underwear, eliciting an answering groan from him. Short, soft hair covered her mound, and he let his fingers linger over it for one second before he delved farther and rubbed his middle finger against her clit.
Bucking against him, she grabbed his shoulders but not to push him away. She broke their kiss, drawing in a deep breath. With her eyes closed, she bowed away from the bed as he began a slow massage that he increased steadily until she struggled to draw in air.
She was wet, hot and slick between her legs, completely bare but for the short hair on her mound. That turned him on more than he would’ve thought possible.
Alternating strokes on her clit with increasingly hard thrusts into her sheath, he worked her ruthlessly. And when she came, her cry echoed in his ears, settled in his chest and fired his blood to full boil. He wanted to hear her again.
She didn’t move for a few seconds, only breathed. When she finally stopped pulsing around his fingers, he pulled them free reluctantly but left them lying on her mound.
He looked up and found her staring at him. Her mouth barely moved, but he knew she was smiling.
Especially when she moved her hand to the button on his jeans.
Taking her time, she forced the button through the hole, keeping her gaze locked to his. His breath caught in his throat when her fingers moved to the zipper tab. She wouldn’t be able to release the zipper, his erection pressed against it too tightly. Still, he didn’t move, wondering what she’d do when she realized that.
He wasn’t prepared for her to flip him on his back in one smooth move. Or for her to trap him between her thighs and kneel over him.
Did she think he was going to try to get away?
Two days ago, he wouldn’t have believed they’d ever be in this position. He still wasn’t quite sure how they’d gotten here. He thought—
With a metallic rasp, she released his zipper and pulled his pants down his hips and Diego stopped thinking. Time enough for that later.
Right now, he’d just enjoy.
As he watched, her gaze slid from his chest to his stomach and finally to his cock, throbbing with lust.
He had no idea what she’d do next and realized he was holding his breath. His lungs released the pent-up air in a harsh sigh when she laid her cool palm across his shaft then let her fingers trail from the already seeping tip to the base. Her fingers combed through the wiry hairs at the base then cupped his tight balls. He bit back a groan as lightning shot from his cock into his stomach then up his spine when she pressed her middle finger in the center of his sac and lightly scraped her fingernail on the perineum.
Heart tripping in his chest, he thought he might have heart failure. She stared down at him and, though his eyes wanted to roll back into his head with pleasure, he forced his gaze to stay connected to hers.
It was important to maintain that connection between them, for her to know exactly who she was in bed with.
Until she ran that fingernail from his ass to his balls to the tip of his cock and sent shivers up his spine. His eyes closed as he bit back a groan and sank his fingers into the bedcover. He wanted to grab her and force her to kiss him, but remembered how she’d come to be in his world. He refused to be labeled among the animals who’d bitten her.
The pressure on his legs lessened as she shifted away from him. Keeping his eyes closed, he struggled to catch his breath.
Shit, she was coming to her senses.
No. No, this was good. He’d been crazy to let it get this far, even though he’d be left with an aching erection that’d require at least half an hour in a freezing cold shower.
When the bed moved again, he prepared himself to get up and let her get some sleep. Maybe she’d be able to now.
He, on the other hand, would be wide awake for hours.
Amy Jo didn’t move away from him. She began to move up his body. His eyes flew open and he found himself staring straight into hers, directly above him. Completely unsmiling now, heat flaring in her eyes, she wrapped her hand around his cock and pulled him back. He drew in a deep breath. This time, his hands grabbed her hips to help her move into place over him.
The tip of his cock brushed against her wet labia, parting them just as his fingers had only a minute ago. She rubbed him back and forth, coating the head in her moisture. He could barely breathe when she finally held him steady and began to sink onto him, a centimeter at a time.
That smooth slide seemed to take forever, trailing heat in her wake. He couldn’t control the thrust of his hips to seat her completely.
When she gasped, he froze, biting down hard on his lip to control his urge to move.
“Oh, God,” she murmured, barely audible. “Don’t stop.”
That was all he needed to hear. He got a better grip on her hips, determined not to rush her or hurt her, and started a slow, steady pace.
Her eyes closed as she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. Her expression hovered somewhere between pleasure and pain but her hands… Hell, her hands enflamed him.
She ran one from her neck to her breasts, cupping and kneading herself until he thought he’d go cross-eyed watching her. Her other hand reached behind her to caress his balls.
She did so until the sensation nearly drove him out of his skin. He had no idea how he kept up any kind of rhythm. Especially when she moved the hand from her breast to her clit and began to rub herself in time to his thrusts. When he lifted her, her fingernail grazed his cock, hastening his climax until he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.
Lowering her again, he said, “Come on, baby. Come for me. Now.”
When she did—gasping his name, her sheath contracting around him—he released into her warmth.
She remained upright on his lap until his last spasm then leaned forward until she lay against his chest, her body still clamped around his slowly softening cock.
Silence closed them in, shutting out the no-star hotel room and the rest of the world. He didn’t want to move and wouldn’t. At least not until she’d fallen asleep.