length of his body to settle over his balls. His cock got the wrong idea, instantly hardening for her again. Heat travelled the length of his body, tingling sparks that leapt from nerve to nerve, causing every one of them to combust until he felt like liquid fire mixed with a cocktail of drugs and potent blood inside, all dizzy and boneless.
When she finally pulled away from him, it was as though she had never landed a hard knee on his groin or broken his nose.
Andreu lay beneath her, hazy from head to toe, hot right down to his marrow, and unable to muster the strength to move.
Cristo. He couldn’t even tear his gaze away from hers. Her irises swam with iridescent shades of brown through to blue, the gold in them sparkling like the precious metal.
“Are you feeling better?” she whispered and stroked his cheek, the softness in her gaze captivating him.
Andreu nodded. He felt better than he had done in a long time.
The heat faded and cold crept back into his veins.
But it didn’t mean that he was going to let her go.
He lunged for her, a snarl on his lips, and she winked out of existence.
His gaze darted around the room but there was no sign of her.
Varya.
She had looked afraid when she had surrendered her name to him in an attempt to gain her freedom. Andreu crashed back onto the mattress and stared up at the crimson canopy of the ebony four-poster bed. Had she been telling the truth when she had said she only wanted a kiss? Was all this about desire rather than death?
His cock twitched, putting in its opinion. She might have made him hard while he had been asleep, but it had been the desire he felt whenever their eyes locked that had kept him as solid as steel and desperate to get inside her, even after she had kicked him.
He closed his eyes and willed his erection to go away but it refused to fade while thoughts of Varya occupied his mind. Her hand had felt incredibly good on him, her kiss equally as addictive and thrilling, and being between her slender shapely legs, rocking against her heat while they kissed, had been Heaven.
She was the enemy.
No good came of sleeping with an enemy.
His heart piped up, reasoning once again that she’d had a chance to kill him while he slept, and adding that she could have done the deed while he had been lying on the bed clutching himself and trying not to cry like a baby. She had taken away his pain and healed him.
Varya became more of an enigma with each meeting.
Part of him wanted to lie on the bed and wait out the rest of the day in the hope that she might return so they could finish what they had started.
The rest of him said to get up, wake the others, and tell them that their succubus problem hadn’t gone away.
Antoine wouldn’t be pleased.
Andreu reluctantly dragged himself out of bed and slung on his black boxers, trousers and black shirt. He didn’t bother with socks. By the time he had finished dressing, his erection was gone and his mind was finally on business again. He padded across the hardwood floor to the panelled mahogany door and opened it.
Payne lay slumped in the red velvet armchair, head tipped back, snoring.
Andreu kicked the chair over, sending him crashing towards the carpet. To the elite vampire’s credit, he was on his feet before he even touched the floor and was facing him, fangs and claws sharp, ready to attack. When he saw it was Andreu, he frowned and yawned, and then rubbed the sleep from his slate-grey eyes.
“What?” Payne righted the chair.
“Some guard dog you are. I could have been killed in there.”
“She came back?” Payne’s voice was loud in the black-walled corridor and his gaze zipped to Andreu’s bloodied face. “Shit. Sorry. She hit you?”
“She hit on me and then hit me.” Andreu left the rest of his seductive encounter with her out and knocked on the door slightly up the hall from his. He wiped the back of his hand across his upper lip and nose to clear the blood away. “Something isn’t
When she finally pulled away from him, it was as though she had never landed a hard knee on his groin or broken his nose.
Andreu lay beneath her, hazy from head to toe, hot right down to his marrow, and unable to muster the strength to move.
Cristo. He couldn’t even tear his gaze away from hers. Her irises swam with iridescent shades of brown through to blue, the gold in them sparkling like the precious metal.
“Are you feeling better?” she whispered and stroked his cheek, the softness in her gaze captivating him.
Andreu nodded. He felt better than he had done in a long time.
The heat faded and cold crept back into his veins.
But it didn’t mean that he was going to let her go.
He lunged for her, a snarl on his lips, and she winked out of existence.
His gaze darted around the room but there was no sign of her.
Varya.
She had looked afraid when she had surrendered her name to him in an attempt to gain her freedom. Andreu crashed back onto the mattress and stared up at the crimson canopy of the ebony four-poster bed. Had she been telling the truth when she had said she only wanted a kiss? Was all this about desire rather than death?
His cock twitched, putting in its opinion. She might have made him hard while he had been asleep, but it had been the desire he felt whenever their eyes locked that had kept him as solid as steel and desperate to get inside her, even after she had kicked him.
He closed his eyes and willed his erection to go away but it refused to fade while thoughts of Varya occupied his mind. Her hand had felt incredibly good on him, her kiss equally as addictive and thrilling, and being between her slender shapely legs, rocking against her heat while they kissed, had been Heaven.
She was the enemy.
No good came of sleeping with an enemy.
His heart piped up, reasoning once again that she’d had a chance to kill him while he slept, and adding that she could have done the deed while he had been lying on the bed clutching himself and trying not to cry like a baby. She had taken away his pain and healed him.
Varya became more of an enigma with each meeting.
Part of him wanted to lie on the bed and wait out the rest of the day in the hope that she might return so they could finish what they had started.
The rest of him said to get up, wake the others, and tell them that their succubus problem hadn’t gone away.
Antoine wouldn’t be pleased.
Andreu reluctantly dragged himself out of bed and slung on his black boxers, trousers and black shirt. He didn’t bother with socks. By the time he had finished dressing, his erection was gone and his mind was finally on business again. He padded across the hardwood floor to the panelled mahogany door and opened it.
Payne lay slumped in the red velvet armchair, head tipped back, snoring.
Andreu kicked the chair over, sending him crashing towards the carpet. To the elite vampire’s credit, he was on his feet before he even touched the floor and was facing him, fangs and claws sharp, ready to attack. When he saw it was Andreu, he frowned and yawned, and then rubbed the sleep from his slate-grey eyes.
“What?” Payne righted the chair.
“Some guard dog you are. I could have been killed in there.”
“She came back?” Payne’s voice was loud in the black-walled corridor and his gaze zipped to Andreu’s bloodied face. “Shit. Sorry. She hit you?”
“She hit on me and then hit me.” Andreu left the rest of his seductive encounter with her out and knocked on the door slightly up the hall from his. He wiped the back of his hand across his upper lip and nose to clear the blood away. “Something isn’t
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