Chapter 25

25

A s she drank, Lachlain squeezed her in his arms and rose to sit on the edge of the bed. He lifted her onto his lap, making her straddle him.

He knew she was lost, clinging so sweetly to him, her elbows on his shoulders, her forearms crossed behind his head. The necklace was cold against his chest as he pulled her closer.

She drew in deep.

"Drink . . . slowly, Emma."

When she didn't, he did something he wouldn't have thought he was capable of. He broke away from her.

She swayed. "What's happening to me?" she asked in a slurred tone.

You're drunk so I can take advantage of you.

"I feel so . . . strange."

When he rolled up her nightgown, she didn't stop him, even when he palmed her between her legs. He groaned anew to find her so wet. His erection was about to rip through his pants.

She was breathing hot and fast against his skin where her lips and teeth had been. She licked him there when he thrust his finger inside her tight sex, then ran her face against his, moaning softly.

"Everything's spinning," she whispered .

He felt guilt, but he knew what they needed and would take them headlong to it, damn the consequences. "Spread your knees more. Rest on my hand."

She did. "I ache, Lachlain." Her voice was throaty, sexy as hell.

She whimpered when he leaned down to drag his tongue over her nipple. "I can ease it." He unfastened his pants with his free hand, and his cock sprang forth beneath her. "Emma, I need tae be inside you. I'm going tae press you down on me."

He forced her hips lower and lower. Gentle. First time. So small.

"And then I'm going to take you until neither of us aches like this," he said against her nipple. Just when he was about to touch her wetness, when he could perceive her heat, she flung away from him, scrambling to the headboard.

He growled with frustration, yanking her right back, until she pummeled his shoulder.

"No! Something's not right." Her hand flew to her forehead. "Feel so dizzy."

Put the beast back in its cage. He'd made a vow to her, never to touch her when she didn't want him to. But her gown was barely covering her, red silk teasing against her white thighs, her nipples hard. He couldn't catch his breath... needed her so badly....

With another growl, he reached over and tossed her to her front. As she struggled, he held her down to bare her generous, perfect arse.

Groaning, he brought his hand down on her curves, not a slap, more a pawing that landed hard. Since he'd met her, he'd brought himself to spend each day in the shower. With her scent fresh in his mind and his hands still warmed from her skin, it was always violently powerful .

She gasped when he kneaded her curves. It would have to be enough.

Time to shower.

***

Emma still felt his hand against her. It hadn't been a hit or a slap, but—Freya help her—an exquisitely delivered message.

What was wrong with her? Why was she thinking this way? She shivered and moaned. The beast in the cage?—that's what he'd told her. Well, the beast had just swiped a hand out of the cage and delivered a good smack on her backside. It was a masterful, masculine touch that left her rolling her hips against the bed.

The urge to pet her sex was overwhelming. She wanted to beg to ride him. Her body twitched as she fought it.

The necklace he'd fastened around her was actually a choker that had gold strands and jewels cascading down over her breasts. The metal was heavy on her and felt sexy and forbidden. When she moved, it swayed and tickled her nipples.

Something about this necklace and the way he'd pressed it upon her signaled... possession.

He'd done something to her tonight. The bed spun, and she felt like giggling. She also couldn't stop running her hands up and down her body. When her thoughts came, they were clear, but soft and slow.

She didn't know how much longer she could take him touching her without begging for him. Right now on the tip of her tongue: "Please."

No! She was already different from others in her coven—part hated foe, weak compared to her aunts.

If the timid vampire Valkyrie returned home aching for her Lykae ?

The disgust and disappointment they would feel. The hurt in their eyes. Besides, she believed if she gave this up, she'd have no power between her and Lachlain—surrendered with a whispered plea. If she succumbed, she wouldn't be going home. Ever. She feared he had the power to make her forget why she'd ever wanted to.

The bed spun more wildly. Realization hit her.

He'd gotten her drunk.

The bastard had gotten himself... so that she would... when she fed... Oh, that son of a bitch! She hadn't even known this was possible!

She'd get him back for this. Tricking her was uncalled for. She couldn't trust him. He'd said he wouldn't lie, but this was just as dishonest.

In the past, she would've meekly accepted this as yet another time her wishes and feelings were ignored. Now she refused. Lachlain needed to learn a lesson. He needed to learn that in the last seven days, she'd become a creature with which one did not fuck.

When she licked her lips for the thirtieth time, a nebulous idea formed.

A wicked, evil idea. She glanced around, embarrassed, as if someone could hear her thoughts. If he wanted to play dirty, if he wanted to throw down that gauntlet, she'd swoop the thing up.

She could do it. Damn it, she could be evil, she could.

A hazy memory arose from when she'd been younger, asking her aunt Myst why vampires were so evil. She'd answered, "It's their nature."

Now Emma grinned drunkenly.

Time to get back to nature.