Zandra’s skin tingled, a pleasant reaction under unpleasant circumstances. Weeks of reacquainting herself with these new times landed her a solid lead to this infamous Trinity’s whereabouts. An inside business associate who dealt with Julius Corrington’s firm informed Minnie the day before she departed from Sire’s home that Julius was planning a meeting with his sons. The timing had been convenient, since she had little to go on otherwise.
Now, strategically placing herself within full view of the three men—three terribly, heart wrenchingly handsome men, she duly noted—she made a show of toying with her martini, eating her olive, and arching her back enough to showcase her supple breasts in the thin material of the dress. She crossed her legs, allowing the loose skirt to slide further up her thigh, exposing more flesh to the hungry gazes latched on her.
She baited them with every motion as she listened to their conversation, but the enjoyment she experienced with every moment came as a pleasant surprise. Her body hummed with life under the scrutiny of three death dealers. Their sole attention made her blood warm. Her breasts were full, aching nipples round and hard.
Between her thighs, a new heat ignited. Moisture seeped from her core, spreading through her nether lips. In this time, women and men alike took to more frank terms for arousal than she had last used. Those terms tumbled around her mind even as she caught the approaching Corrington brother from the corner of her eye. Each step closer increased the flow of her juices, heightening her arousal.
Stop this nonsense. You’re here to find out if this Trinity is behind the deaths of the Elders.
No point in arguing duty over desire. She would never allow Sire to come to harm. Never.
“Hello there. Couldn’t help but notice you’re without company.” This Corrington leaned on the bar rail, blocking her view of the other two brothers. Zandra kept her face turned away, avoiding the conflicting emotions the sight of this broad, muscular man hovering closer to her. From the quick glimpse she stole, she noticed the stern, devilish features of his face. Dark eyes probed her, cruising along her body, searing every curve as if she wore no clothing at all. His seductive smile grew, as did the husk in his voice. “Let me get that drink for you.”
“I’ve taken care of it, thank you,” Zandra said, lifting the martini glass to her lips. She hesitated, allowing her lips to curl around the edge of the glass, teasing the man who observed her like a sex-starved creature about to burst. His fingers tightened into fists, and that bulge in his pants grew. She lifted her eyes to his face, tipped her glass, and took a small sip. His gaze narrowed on her as she licked the vodka from her top lip. His mouth twitched. God was he handsome. “Perhaps next time?”
“I’m in town ‘till morning. What do you say we head on out, grab a bite to eat, and get off on proper introductions?”
“I doubt your friends would appreciate you leaving them behind.”
The man cast a short glance over his shoulder. He was being watched closely by the two he left at the table a short distance away. “My brothers wouldn’t mind in the least. I’m certain they’d love to tag along if I’d let them.”
“The offer is gracious. I’m deeply inclined to accept.” Zandra slid off the barstool and straightened up, smoothing out her dress. She pressed her shoulders back, allowing her clothing to enhance the depth of her cleavage. A step, two at most, would bring her flush to this man’s body, a body that called to hers like sin. “Unfortunately, I must decline. I’m heading out of town this evening, Mr.?”
“Damion. Call me Damion.”
“Well, Damion, if you’ll excuse me.” Zandra needed to put space between herself and this man before she made a complete floundering fool of herself. She reached up to his cheek, cupping his cool flesh, the coarse hair from his goatee tickling her palm, and offered a smile to soften her rejection. “I’m certain we’ll be seeing each other again.”
She pressed up on her toes—the man stood a ridiculous head and a half taller than she—and drew her lips across his. Her desire to kiss him was irrational, but this one seemed eager to become her link to his brothers.
One way or another, she would figure out this tangled web. In the meantime, she’d bide her time enjoying something she hadn’t enjoyed in the centuries since Sire turned her vampire.
The touch of a man. The taste of a man. The release of tensions her body refused to acknowledge.
Damion grabbed her wrist in a gentle grip when she stepped back. “Have one more drink. On me.” His lips curled in a dark, sexy smile. “I’ll make it worth every moment of your time.”
Bite me, Lucien. Her muscles twitched, her clit pounding furiously. Those teeth teased the path of her throbbing vein. She struggled to breathe, her heart beating a wild and impossible pace.
Lucien’s tongue swirled over her skin. Zandra whimpered, squeezing her eyes closed and sinking into his temptation. She wanted this, wanted the closeness, but knew she couldn’t.
He’s breaking me.
The very notion Lucien held this much power over her frightened her as much as it embraced her.
“The possibilities,” he murmured. His fingers squeezed her ass, spreading her cheeks. He groaned, pressing his cock hard against her pussy. “Goddamn, Zandra.”
Lucien pulled back, tipping his head to the ceiling on a sharp breath. Zandra reluctantly lowered her feet to the floor when his hold on her lightened. Only then did she notice the fine tremors that skated just below his surface.
“What, Lucien?” She slid her hands over his shoulders, inching his shirt down his arms. His eyes were so dark, so starved. Zandra nuzzled the side of her face to his chest as she worked his shirt from his wrists and dropped it over hers.
His fingers traced light lines over her cheek. Palms flat against his skin, she drew her hands around his narrow hips, back to front, and hooked her fingers around the buckle of his belt.
“You,” he whispered, his arm slinking around her as the plane rocked. Zandra tipped her face up to him, smoothing her lips along the dip between his pecs. She slowly worked open his belt and his pants, while holding his gaze. Unspoken words hung between them. Her soul murmured forbidden wants and desires, as did his, but neither of them spoke those yearnings out loud.
Zandra dipped her head and kissed her way down the cut and molded path from his neck to his abs. She slid his pants off his hips, the delicious scent of his arousal permeating her nostrils before the sight of his hard, thick cock came into view. His bulbous head glistened with pre-cum, a salty treat that caused her jaw to ache.
Lowering down to her knees, she unzipped his boots and took each one off, followed by his socks, and at last his pants. She straightened up, riding her hands along the corded path of his thighs.
Lucien braced one arm on the closet door, watching her as she gripped the base of his cock with one hand and flicked her tongue along his wide cockhead. His flavor spread over her tongue and filled her with an electric warmth. She circled her lips around his cock and sucked him into her mouth, inch by inch, delighting in the taste that belonged only to Lucien. Every muscle in his body tensed, that feral creature he held tightly to looming so close to the surface.
She curled her tongue around his shaft, latching her lips tight, and sucked him deep to the back of her throat. Lucien hissed, a carnal sound that made her unbearably wet. She pulled back, leaving the tip of his cock between her lips, then sucked him down again. The earthy musk of his arousal and the tang of his juice sent her into another realm, another world, one that threatened to swallow her as strongly as she swallowed him.
Allowing her eyelids to fall shut, she traced his inner thigh with a feathery touch, tracing up and down from mid thigh to sac. The subtle quivering of his legs urged her to give him more. She tipped his cock as her lips slid off the tip of his head, and kissed her way down the underside of his hot flesh. When she reached his sac, she licked the velvety skin and sighed. Lucien groaned, one hand combing into her hair.
Zandra cupped his sac and looked up at him through thick lashes. “You don’t need to hold me, Lucien. I’m thoroughly enjoying this.”
The corner of Lucien’s mouth twitched. He straightened off the closet. “I’m not holding you to keep you close. I’m holding you to pull you away when I can’t take anymore.”
“Am I that bad?” she asked, lapping at his sac in one slow motion. She traced the wetness with a gently stream of breath.
“You’re worse.” He arched his back as Zandra took one testicle into her mouth and lazily rolled his ball over her tongue. “Damn. So much worse.”
She chuckled silently, his fingers tightening in her hair. Licking him, sucking him, and holding him in her mouth like a delicacy she craved could just as easily bring her climax. She clenched her pussy muscles and let out a sharp breath as a spear of pleasure shot along her nerves.
Lucien’s cock throbbed as she glided her hand along his shaft. She shifted to his other ball, devouring him without prelude.
“Sweetheart.” The thick, gravelly endearment trickled down her body, plucking each nerve ending until her entire being hummed. Zandra released his ball and brought his cock to her mouth. She fucked him with long, steady strokes, quickening the pace before relaxing and increasing her suction. His fingers tried to pull her away, but she held fast. His cock swelled along her tongue. She took him to the back of her throat, lifting her gaze to his face. Lucien threw back his head, bracing a hand on the overhead storage. Hot cum poured down her throat and she swallowed him down, eager for more. A low string of moans left his mouth with each fiery pulse of cum. She held to his hips, ignoring the pinch of her hair in his fist, until his climax tapered.
Zandra leaned back, gingerly wiping the corners of her mouth. Lucien trembled. He dropped his hand from the storage bin and looked down at her. She pressed to her feet, her own legs unsteady, her pussy sopping wet. The salty-sweet flavor of Lucien’s juice saturated her, disabling her thoughts outside of the passion-brimming bubble of here and now.
The air was dense and heavy and pulsing with unspent energy. She may have tapped him, but she sure didn’t extinguish the fire. If anything, she poured more fuel on top of the raging inferno.