Property of the Fae Page 5

  With a final grip of my cock, I come, shooting hot streams of cum, and again.

  That’s what I have been reduced to.

  Someone jerking off to the thought of the one woman I must have.

  The only one I can have, for Fire has spoiled me for anyone else.

  It’s her fault that I am still semi-erect after getting off. I turn my face up, increase the pressure of the water, and let it slam into my face. I stand there until my hands and feet are numb and I can’t feel my fingers. Or my toes…or any of my extremities except for my dick. The fucker still stands half to attention, ready for action. “Get a life, asshole.” I turn off the shower, then towel myself dry.

  Walking out into the study, I yank out the spare jeans and T-shirt I keep there for emergencies. And this counts as the mother of all emergencies. Shrugging into my clothes, I pull on my socks and boots. Then walk out of there into the kitchen.

  She is going to pay for coming into my life.

  For crawling inside my head, in my heart. My chest constricts. No, don’t go there. I will not feel for her. Will not fall for her. Will not take her for my mate…not. When I reach the kitchen, I cross the floor to the shelves and pull out the ingredients I need. It’s time to put my plan into practice.

  9

  Jess

  The alpha-hole left me waiting here. Waiting for him. Waiting to see what he’s going to do next. My back itches and I try to reach around for it. I twist my waist all the way around, contorting myself before I manage to scratch it. Easier than the itch that’s crawling up my pussy. The one that throbs with need. That feels so damn empty.

  How had I survived so far without his dick inside me? How am I going to survive whatever experiences he has in store for me? How can I respect the person who just leaves me on my knees, naked as the day I was born? Yeah, all my clothes burned off when I shifted to my dragon form, remember? Why was it that I couldn’t shift the first time?

  And I had been so damn stupid pushing off the balcony, just to see if I could shift again.

  Just to reassure myself that my dragon self would reveal itself and save me. And my beast had not failed me the second time…except by the time I’d hit the surface of the river, all thought of escape had emptied from my mind. I still don’t understand why I didn’t take the chance to leave when I had it. Is it because I am attracted to him? No surprise there. But for the mere thought of him to destabilize me, to make my dragon wobble, enough for my beast to not be able to reveal itself in time, that first time around? No, it has to be something more.

  My dragon had sensed him, had known he was my mate and had made the executive decision—not a funny word in this context, I promise you. My dragon had vetoed my need to escape. Had decreed that I stay.

  And when I had refused to acknowledge what had been signposted to me all along, when I had tried to push aside my feelings, all my instincts which had screamed at me to stay, then, my beast had simply shut down. That has never happened before.

  Images flash through my head. Okay, once. It had happened the first time my father had tried to rape me. I’d been too shocked. Had only recently learned to shift, and all my instincts had simply refused to turn on. My dragon had been shoved into the innermost recesses of my mind and pure fear had taken over. Enough to leave me frozen in place.

  I had retreated to a part of my mind where there had been silence. No judgment. Nothing except the numbness that came from the shock of having been let down. I’ve never trusted any man since. Have spent all my life until now, trying to get revenge for what my father had done to me. I’d decided I was going to sleep with strangers and put them in their place. Use them and toss them aside. Like my father had.

  I don’t need a shrink to point out the obvious. I had let that one incident take over my life. I am still not able to trust any man, and certainly not Alpha-hole here. But do you blame me? I am entitled to live my life the way I want, right?

  And how had he figured all of that out in such little time?

  Had he seen me and known exactly which buttons to press? Had known what I needed? I know what you want, Fire. That’s what he’d told me, and damn if I am not echoing his thoughts out loud.

  Maybe this is some kind of psychological conditioning, where he’s embedded an echo of his thoughts in my head, and now I can’t get rid of the direction he’s set me on. Which is what?

  That I’ll obey him.

  Do what he wants?

  Including kneeling here naked… The fucker hadn’t thought of bringing me clothes. Not that it matters. Shifter blood runs hot enough that the water on my skin has all but evaporated from that dunking in the river, but still, know what I mean? It’s the principle of the thing. The fact that he simply commanded me to drop to my knees and wait for whatever twisted, depraved thing he wants to do to me next.

  And I had.

  My stomach flipflops. My pussy quivers.

  And damn if the thought doesn’t turn me on further.

  Moisture trickles down between my thighs. I want to reach down and scoop it up, wipe away all evidence of what he’s doing to me. What is he doing to me? Turning me on? Lighting a fire inside that he’s not going to put out anytime soon? He’s going to tease me along; I have no doubt of that. The asshole—correction, alpha-hole—is going to ensure that I stay right here stewing in thoughts of him.

  Making sure that I work myself up to fever pitch.

  To feel the scrape of his skin on my skin, to want his breath searing my cheek. His lips on mine, his tongue dancing inside my mouth as he plunges his fingers into me again and again. My nerve endings tingle and my thighs clench. I don’t need him here teasing me and turning me on. I am doing that, all on my own, thank you very much. I roll back my shoulders and set my jaw. Where has the jerk disappeared to?

  I’d heard the sound of the shower running, had wished for a warm bath myself. No doubt he’d done that on purpose. Making sure that my self-imposed exile here weighs heavy on my mind.

  Funny how just the thought of doing without basic comforts makes one miss them, huh? Where is he anyway? He’d padded up the corridor.

  The sound of vessels crashing reaches me.

  I stiffen.

  What the hell is he up to? The scent of something… Coriander? Onions frying…garlic. That heady bite of garlic being sautéed fills the air.

  My stomach rumbles. Great, now it's not only my pussy that feels empty. My other senses are also getting in on the act.

  I swallow down the saliva that pools in my mouth.

  It’s only when I almost lost my balance and fall over that I realize I am tipping my head forward, craning my neck so my nose can catch hold of every new scent that bleeds my way. Holy hell, he’s doing what he said he would. He’s cooking for me. More smells of cooking waft through. I sniff the air.

  Savory, smoky, complex scents curl around me. They tease at my nostrils, lasso around my waist and jerk me forward.

  I shuffle one knee forward an inch, then the other and, reaching the door, I press my nose to the wood, breathing in deep of the aroma. I rub my cheek against the door. Lick my lips. My stomach all but collapses in as if it’s going to eat itself. Is this what he’d meant when he said he’d torture me?

  If so, he is doing a damn fine job.

  And all without touching me.

  Forget about fucking me, the man hadn’t been lying when he’d said he was going to cook me a meal.

  Just I hadn’t thought it would be a full-on culinary orgasm. Orgasm? Guess there is more than one kind of climax he can lead me on to. One that encompasses all the senses and fills me up in more ways than one. My stomach cramps.

  I rub my thighs together to hold in the emptiness that is growing inside me. Inside my channel, inside my stomach, my heart. All thoughts empty from my head. I need to get out of his room and go to where he is, see what he’s cooking.

  And he’d told me not to move.

  And I have.

  I still haven’t left the room, though. Hmm
.

  I have disobeyed his command not to move already, so it won’t matter if I leave the room now, right?

  Right.

  I push back on the soles of my feet and go to stand when the door is flung open.

  10

  Tristan

  She tumbles over into the corridor, and frankly, I am not surprised. A part of me had wondered how long she’d actually stay in the position I’d left her in. The other part, the wilder part, the beast inside if you want to get technical…and no, I am not a shifter but something far more dangerous. A Fae. A full-blooded, alpha Fae, one who relies on his instincts for a living. One who never plays by the rules, except for when I’d been recruited to the Fae Corps. I’d learned discipline the hard way. Speaking of which, it’s thanks to that dickwad, Dante, that I am in this situation.

  I swear he’d known all along that this was going to happen.

  That I’d take one look at her and feel something so powerful for her that I’ll do anything to have her. That I'd torture myself by putting myself into a situation where she sprawls at my feet, on her back, naked.

  She lifts up on her elbows and bends a knee.

  It draws attention to that succulent flesh at the apex of her thighs. Her lower lips glisten pink; her clit peeks out from between them. My groin hardens all over again, and fuck if I can stop myself from touching her. My knees shake as if they have a mind of their own.

  My stomach twists.

  My dick strains against my pants.

  Seems I only have to look at her and I want her all over again. I rake my gaze up over her naked stomach, up to her fleshy breasts. Sensuous breasts with dark-red areolae that crown the flesh. Nipples that are turned up to stare at me, calling to me, begging me to bend down and squeeze them between my fingers. She groans, and her head falls back.

  Fuck if that’s not what I’d just done. I’d reached out and touched her with my phantom fingers, and I hadn’t noticed. That never happens. Never. Nope. The Fae Corps training—bitch that it had been—had assured me one thing. That I am always in command of my facilities. Always present. Always fully one hundred percent in my body and cognizant of everything that is happening around me. Aware of my every action. Not. I am protesting too much.

  I straighten and tuck my elbows into my sides.

  She lowers her chin to her chest then stares at me from under hooded eyelids. Her chin wobbles. She flicks out a tongue to lick her lower lip, and fuck if I don’t almost come right now.

  I need to break out of the sexual haze that Fire seems to enfold me in. She just has to look at me with that hunger in her eyes and I’ll give her anything she wants. Good thing she doesn’t know that…yet. Right?

  “Get up.” My voice is harsh. I don’t bother to disguise the anger that laces the words.

  She swallows, then sets her lips. For a second, I am sure she is going to refuse me. That she is simply going to lie there in all her naked glory—and whose idea was it that she not wear clothes? Oh! Wait. That was me.

  I’d made sure she stayed naked after that impromptu dunking of hers in the river because I’d thought it would teach her to be subservient.

  I hadn’t counted on the fact that unclothed she has the most lethal of weapons at her disposal. Her very nakedness bared to my eyes, a curvy body that moves me in a way I cannot put words to.

  “Now. Fire, don’t make me wait.” I keep my voice quiet. Wipe all emotion from my face.

  The color fades from her features. She’s scared of me. Good. She should be. Of everything, I want to do to her. Soon. Very soon.

  She juts out her lower lip. Of course, my dick twitches. I want to lean down and sink my teeth into that full swollen flesh. I stay where I am. The tips of my ears tingle. Another first. I am used to the physical aspects of my body being under tight control. Hell, that’s Fae Corp lesson 101. How to rein in your emotions, and not give away what you are feeling.

  Apparently, where Fire is concerned, I have very little self-control.

  I raise my eyebrow, and she gulps. Fear bleeds out from her, and mixed with this is the sugary scent of her arousal. Fuck this. Fuck my control, too. Fuck everything that has brought me to this situation. I snake out my arm.

  She flinches. And that only makes me angrier. And really, it shouldn’t. I had tried to scare her into submission after all. Seems I have to take another route here.

  I keep my hand steady. Keep my gaze on her face.

  She grabs my hand, and I haul her up. I hadn’t intended for the action to bring her closer to me, so she stumble forwards. The full weight of her luscious body slams into me.

  All my muscles tense, and my ears pop.

  The scent of her is all around me. Her breasts are crushed against my chest. Her hips cradle my hardness. She meets my gaze, and her pupils blink vertical. Liquid lust pulses through my blood.

  “You have been a naughty girl, haven’t you?”

  Her pupils darken, the black seeping out until there’s only a vertical sliver of gold encircling them.

  “You disobeyed me, Fire.”

  The breath rushes out of her. The scent of her arousal deepens.

  “What are you going to do about it?”

  11

  Jess

  Crazy. Crazy. I am certifiably insane. I must be, surely, to tempt this man. This larger-than-life alpha, the most dominant man I have ever met, I just challenged him. Damn.

  His cheeks flush. Hmm. Isn’t that a first. Seems I did get to him, too. Guess no one has ever gone toe to toe with him, certainly not a woman. If he thinks I am going to give in to him, he has another think coming.

  I raise my arm and trail a fingernail down his cheek.

  A pulse ticks at his jaw, and damn if I don’t want to lick his skin right there, right over that throbbing space. A low beat drums between my legs. It seems to mirror the beat of his pulse. Now I am getting fanciful. We can’t be that in sync, can we?

  “Nothing.”

  I blink. “Huh. What?”

  “I just answered your question.”

  “Question?”

  His eyes flare, harsh glittering blue speckled with silver, diamond-bright and just as hard. As complex. It would be so easy to lose myself in his gaze, to give in and allow him to take me, and then what? This is not me; this is someone else who is so taken in by this man. So rattled by him, so overcome by the dominance of his presence that I've forgotten who I am: a shifter. A woman who had been abused and survived. A female so strong, so passionate, I can overcome anything that comes my way. Enough to enroll in the Bureau and forge a new life for myself. Enough to face up to any challenge. Except him. No, that is all wrong. Especially him. I can face up to him. I can.

  “You asked me what I was going to do now that you disobeyed me.”

  “Right.” Focus. I need to focus. Look to the side, at my feet, at the floor, anywhere except at him. Especially not at him.

  “I haven’t decided what your punishment is going to be. Yet.” He veers around me and makes for the kitchen.

  He just walks away, the fucker. Knowing I am going to stalk his progress. His T-shirt clings to his sculpted back and his massive biceps strain the sleeves. My gaze flows down his tightly corded flanks and over that tight butt, to where his thigh muscles fill out his jeans very nicely. Every inch of him screams he’s one hundred percent, prime hunky male.

  My fingers curl. My dragon squirms against my skin, wanting to go to him. N-a-ah. I huff out a breath, then slap my animal back.

  He reaches the kitchen then glances at me over his shoulder. His gaze narrows, the meaning implicit in his expression…or lack of.

  I jut out my lower lip, then stalk toward him with all the dignity I can muster. Which given I am still naked and he’s completely clothed is an achievement, okay? I reach the kitchen.

  He doesn’t move. Just stands there. One side of his lips turns up in a smirk. He glances at the table in front of him. Jerk. He wants me to brush past him. As if I care. I shuffle sideways, then move
toward him and sidle through. Making sure my nipples—which instantly pucker up, damn them—brush against his side.

  His breath hitches.

  Goody. Two can play this game. I saunter toward the table, making sure to twitch my butt just for effect.

  W-h-a-c-k. A flash of pain pulses from my ass cheeks.

  “Motherfucker.” I swivel around, knees bent, fists held up in front of me. “You spanked me. Again?”

  He stands where I'd last seen him, at the entrance of the kitchen, and raises his palms faceup, “I haven't moved from my position.”

  “You used your telekinetic energy or whatever to touch me without touching me physically,” I bluster.

  He widens his gaze, fixing me with that oh-so-innocent look of his, so trusting, so beautiful on his face that I almost buy it.

  “Don’t fuck with me, Fae.”

  “Tristan.” He drums his fingers on his chest. "Say my name."

  “Fuck you by whatever name you want to call yourself.” I grind my teeth.

  “Your insults only turn me on, Fire.” He bares his teeth. Those sharp canines of his seem to glow against the brown of his skin.

  “You really are something.” I set my jaw.

  “Thought you’d never notice.” He stalks over to me.

  And I watch his every move. Stalking him as he walks by me. Making sure there is more than a foot between us. He swaggers over to the cooking range, on which there is a pot of something on the fire.