The compliment staggered her heart like a tremor and should not have made her feel so heart-racingly good. She had to remind herself of what kind of man he was. Most shapeshifters were bad enough, but the dominant ones were the worst. And to be the Alpha, the strongest of them all? He dominated the dominant ones. He was going to be the worst.
“Fine, keep the shirt.” She spun around and headed in the opposite direction. She felt his fingers curl around the bare skin of her arm a second before she was spun around and pulled into a hot, hard chest. “Let me go, Lyonis.” He smiled at her—the way a predator does to a prey before it leaps.
“Not yet, little one. You’re even more beautiful that I’d imagined. You are mine now. At first, I was not happy at the news, but now I can see why Francis left you to me. A fine gift I must say for the debt I owed him. I think I may be getting the better end of the bargain.” His hand reached up to touch her hair, but she quickly ducked and spun out of his arms. She was breathing hard and she didn’t know what from.
“I am not yours. I will never be yours. I am not a possession.” A perfect masculine brow cocked high.
“But you are mine according to law. I can do with you as I wish. I will protect you, and you will get to be my queen. Most of all, you will care for my needs day or night, and I will yours.” Willow’s jaw fell open and then her hand shot out, caught his hard jaw with a resounding smack. His eyes flared before narrowing on her. “You should be warned that if you run, I will not be able to help myself. I will come for you and I will never stop. And after seeing that flare of passion in you, I am even more determined than ever to have you.”
“No, you will not! Do you hear me, beast man? Go find someone who actually wants you because I don’t.” She tried to pull away, but strong hands latched onto her arms and brought her back into his body. She bared her teeth at him and struggled to free herself. Suddenly he was bending his head down towards hers.
She froze, her blood pounding in her ears. His mouth came closer and closer to her lips.
God he smelled so good, would he taste as good? But then he changed direction and nuzzled her ear.
In a voice that sent shivers down her spine he said, “You are mine, Willow Bellum. Mine now and forever. I warn you not to run from the beast for the beast will only chase you, thrilled by the hunt of such a perfect prey. Come with me now and save yourself because you will never be able to outrun me.” The lulling, deep tones of his voice had her eyes closing, and the kneading way he held her arms was almost nice. But the challenge he presented brought her back to reality.
Using all her strength, she shoved him away from her. She had a feeling he only moved at his own volition and not because of her, but her ego ignored that.
“I will never be yours. I am not a possession.” She gave him one last look then sprinted off down the street, the power of her body guiding her.
The chase was on.
Chapter Seven
Chloe wished she could say she’d spent the night MacGyvering the room up with gadgets and weapons to help her escape or, at the very least, had already escaped but instead she’d spent the night passed out naked in the fluffiest bed she’d ever slept in.
Really, what was this thing made out of—angel feathers?
In her defense which, okay, maybe wasn’t much of one, she’d been dead tired from the flight to London, the craziness at the cemetery, and the, like, thirty minutes of sleep she’d gotten hadn’t been enough.
Climbing off the bed, she found a stack of clothes sitting on the side table. She vaguely remembered seeing the table last night when she’d been busy climbing into bed, but she knew there hadn’t been clothes on it then. Did Tyrian come in here while she was asleep? Did he find her even a hint as sexy as she did him? Because she was almost tempted to stave off her escape until after her new moon.
The man confused her. On one hand, her instincts told her to move away far and fast from him. On the other hand, her mind told her that her father would not have sent her to live with a dangerous man. The man was so cold he was practically ice. It must be the curious side of her that wondered what it would take to see him thawed.
The thought of her new moon sent a flutter of nerves through her. The history of the succubi was mostly misconstrued by everyday humans and even by some supernaturals. The truth was that succubi’s history has always been male dominated. To this day when daughters reach the age of 29, they are given to a special man of the family’s choosing—usually the father’s choosing. This special man was called the Protector. He was the succubus’ chosen male, to have and to hold, forever and ever. For males of her species, or incubi, the same occurs.
Except as men, they are allowed to choose their own Protector. It made her sick just thinking about how unfair it was.
Chloe shivered and went to the adjourning bathroom. At least this castle of death had modern day plumbing. She turned on the shower and waited until it got hot before getting in.
There was only a single, white bar of soap in the shower and she used it for everything.
The fact that her father never abided by the same rules as other succubus families only made what he did even more strange. Tyrian had mentioned a debt. Is this what her father was about? He’d always been a protective man, an even more protective father, but to give each of his daughters away to a man just like every other succubus family? It made no sense. What kind of debt did Tyrian owe her Papa to receive her in return?
The new moon was soon. Two maybe three days tops. A shiver that had nothing to do
with cold rushed over her. Succubi and incubi were always given to their Protectors after their 29th birthday because the following new moon sent them into full sexual maturity.
Chloe ran a soapy hand between her legs and wondered if Tyrian was one of those men who had hundreds—if not thousands—of lovers. She honestly couldn’t see him being the type, though she wasn’t sure why. What kind of women did he like? Tall, petite, curvy, blonde, dark, shaven? She touched her own mound and felt the spring of short, dark curls there.
A wave of self-consciousness sprung from her with its nasty head. She wasn’t incredibly slender, nor was she too short or tall. She’d always been a somewhat plain woman. She knew she didn’t turn heads and for once, she wished that maybe she did. What would it be like to have a man like Tyrian under her power?
She might just learn that sooner than later. The presence of the new moon beat against her skin, tightening it like a cord being cranked tighter and tighter around her. Her virgin body had never held a man. Most succubi saved her body for her Protector, though that wasn’t why she was a virgin. She never cared to wait until her new moon. The truth was that she’d just never found a man she wanted badly enough. She’d experimented in other ways, yes, but never sex.
She’d never felt a man surge inside her, but had wondered about it for long hours.
The new moon sparked a drastic change in her body. She would no longer require food for sustenance, but sex.
Chloe relaxed her head back against the shower wall and didn’t stop her fingers from circling quickly over her bud. Her free hand found a breast and palmed the weight of it. She saw Tyrian’s dark head behind her closed eyes, saw him feasting on her breasts like she was some irresistible maiden he couldn’t get enough of, and saw his cock breaching her unused entrance.
She wanted that, she realized. Wanted to feel what it was like to have him inside her.
Would it ease the dull, empty ache she always felt so deep inside her like she did right now?
Would he hold her close and come hard inside her just as she came apart? Her breath hitched and her orgasm peaked, pulsing waves of heat throughout her body. She jerked against the wall, then instantly her hand went limp.