Chapter Four

“You would risk your family to keep me?”

For all the practice she had at masking her fear—thanks to Elena—the gargoyle’s steel-edged conviction made it hard not to take him seriously. As worried as she’d been over her fate, some small part of her had dared to hope he might willingly release her.

The look on his face, the unwavering blue depths locked on her, told her he meant every word. He really had no intention of releasing her.

“My family can handle themselves.”

She swallowed past the momentary panic clawing at her throat. “So revenge is all that matters to you?” She certainly hadn’t gotten that vibe when she’d touched his belongings and experienced those memories.

“Not all that matters, no.” He dragged his shirt over his head and tossed it behind him.

“Whoa there, Chippendale. Let’s keep this PG rated.”

Unfazed, he moved his hand to the fly of his jeans, drawing her attention down his toned abs—and how had she missed those on the roof?

“Is there a problem?”

Hell yeah, there was a problem. She just couldn’t remember exactly what it was as the button gaped open just a fraction.

Focusing, she went with the obvious. “You just took your shirt off.”

“And yours is next.”

“In your dreams, gargoyle.” She slipped around him, finding it easier to keep a clear head when she wasn’t pinned between him and the wall.

He tugged his zipper down and circled her, pausing behind her long enough to whisper, “In my dreams the only thing covering your body is me.”

Her stomach grew hot at the image that unfolded in her mind. She shook her head to erase it as much to discourage him—as if that were possible—and preferably before the jeans riding low on his hips slid any lower.

Avalon help her, there was no way he was wearing any underwear beneath them.

She needed to stay focused on finding a way out of this mess, preferably with her clothing intact.

Given the way the corners of his mouth tipped up, as if amused by her white-knuckled grip on her shirt, the odds didn’t seem to be in her favor. That fact alone spurred her retreat.

Cian tensed like an animal about to take down its prey, but after a few feet, he still hadn’t moved. How was it that he managed to make her feel like she was being stalked when he hadn’t taken a single step in her direction?

She searched his face, finally understanding the wicked glimmer in his eyes. He was enjoying it. He wanted her to run, wanted to catch her.

Which only forced her to acknowledge that she wanted to be caught.

Caught. Kissed. Touched.

And it was all so damn crazy. She didn’t do one-night stands with men under normal circumstances, let alone with one who was casually eyeing the chain she dragged along the floor like it was part of the trap he couldn’t wait to spring.

“I am not some sex slave.”

When he took a step toward her, she wished she hadn’t said a damn thing.

“You’re right about that,” he drawled innocently, and she scrambled back another step, realizing too late he was herding her toward his bedroom.

“Slaves,” he continued, “need to be coerced in the beginning. You want it. Want me.”

A hint of uncertainty echoed beneath all that slick feline arrogance, surprising her. Distracting her. Otherwise she might have noticed how quickly he closed the distance between them, forcing her to tip her head back to meet his gaze. He towered over her five-foot-four frame, but she didn’t find it as intimidating as she should have given the magic-nulling handcuff locked around her wrist.

Everything about the situation left her at a disadvantage, but she refused to play the submissive female.

He stared at her throat before finally lifting his hand and tracing the soft hollow, then moving on to her collarbone. The teasing brush of his thumb was at odds with the tension she felt radiating from him.

“You didn’t deny that you want me.” His hands slid beneath her jacket and over her shoulders.

“And give you a reason to prove I was lying?”

He laughed, and the rough sound washed over her. A little dazed by his smile, she was slow to process her jacket sliding down to her arms.

Her eyes snapped open—when the hell had she closed them?—and she stumbled back. He might have been too distracted when she’d been in the shower to realize how few tracings she had, but risking it a second time was a really bad idea. It wouldn’t take him long to realize the cuff would null any ability to mask her tracings.

A tug on her wrist pulled her forward. She immediately retreated, stepping inside the dark bedroom at her back.

Could he see well enough to notice her tracings—or lack thereof—in the dark?

He stopped in the doorway, the light behind him casting his face in shadows. Maybe she’d been a little premature with the whole not-intimidated thing. She managed another step, and he countered with another tug on the chain until she was forced to meet him halfway.

“Cian.”

He stopped, only a foot away now. “Again.” He stepped forward, and her thighs connected with his.

“I don’t—”

“My name. Say it again.”

Her lips parted soundlessly.

“Please.”

Inches separated them. “Cian.”

His palm caressed her jaw, guiding her closer. “Again,” he murmured.

“Ci—”

He slanted his mouth across hers. Soft and hot, the lazy kiss stoked a low fire in her belly. It was impossible not to part her lips and welcome him deeper, sinking into him.

He groaned, nipping at her bottom lip and getting closer.

And then everything shot sideways. She thought it was just in her head until Cian’s arm snapped around her and they went down hard. He took the brunt of the impact when they hit the floor.

Hearing the chain clink somewhere behind her, Emma realized it had tripped them. Catching her breath, she stared down at him, increasingly aware of the way she was sprawled across his chest. Without her jacket providing any kind of buffer, there was no way to deny how good it felt to be tucked against him.

Carefully, he brushed her hair to the side, his fingers sliding through the dark strands.

“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”

She shook her head. She’d never considered herself more than average, especially when standing next to her twin. Elena’s natural glow drew men like lambs to the heart-breaking slaughter.

But the way Cian was looking at her…like something from a dream whose details had faded and left only the feeling that she wanted to relive it over and over again.

“After a hundred years, I’m betting you’d find even a blow-up doll beautiful.”

Cian’s mouth fell open. “A child’s toy is meant to explode in this century?”

“No. That’s not…I mean…” She closed her eyes at the feel of his fingers rubbing along her neck. “That’s really distracting, you know.”

He rolled to trap her beneath him, then ran his mouth along the same path. “How about this?”

“I can still string a sentence together.” Barely. Another minute of this and he’d have to peel her off the floor. God, the only thing worse than the gargoyle holding her against her will was how much she was enjoying it.

Avalon help her, she really was worse than an enchantress. “You and I… We need to stop… We can’t do this.”

He opened his mouth over the hollow at the base of her throat. “Can. Most definitely are.”

“So you’d force me?”

“Did I force you to put your arms around my neck, sorceress?”

Her gaze darted to the traitorous hands linked behind his neck. A low growl stopped her from releasing her hold on him entirely.

“And afterward you’ll dispose of me, or maybe keep me chained up here until the next time?” Maybe if she clung to the latter possibility, she would stop aching to feel his mouth on hers again.

“Then we’ll do it again.” He pulled her skin between his lips, sucking softly. “And again.”

Pure carnal heat streamed through her and she arched beneath him. A sexy groan of approval rumbled in his chest. Catching her mouth with his, Cian kissed her long and deep, coaxing a desperate moan from her lips. And desperate was the only way to describe the need crackling under her skin.

“Admit how much you want me, Emma.”

“I think your ego is already big enough, gargoyle.” She planted a hand against his chest, not expecting—or really wanting—him to budge when she gave him a half-hearted push.

He surprised her by rolling to his back again and dragging her with him. He caught her hips, pulling her until she brushed the hard length of him.

They both moaned, and she straddled him, instinctively rocking back until the head of his cock pressed against her.

His fingers dug into her, holding her still. His expression darkened, with pleasure or pain she wasn’t sure. Then he caught the ends of her shirt and jerked it over her head. And Avalon help her, she didn’t even try to stop him.

So beautiful.

Cian let his head drop back to the floor, a little bit dazed by the female hovering over him. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips damp from his mouth, her eyes…for a moment he thought he saw flecks of purple glint in the dim lighting.

He ran his gaze over her shoulders, to the black lace molded to her breasts. Sliding a finger beneath the strap, he tugged her down until his mouth met the sexy curve of her neck.

The cat growled at her tantalizing scent, wanting to leave its mark on her. That alone should have sent him scrambling from beneath her. He’d never been in a hurry to find his mate, focused first on helping Arthur build a strong, peaceful vision of Avalon, and then on finding the daggers that would return their king to them.

But if finding his mate felt half as incredible as he did right now—like he might go out of his mind if he didn’t get another taste of her lips or glimpse her stunning smile— he’d been wrong to prefer his life as it was.

Holding her gaze, Cian tugged the material down until he glimpsed the dark pink tip.

Emma went still, her eyes sliding shut. His own drifted closed as his jaw grazed the curve of her breast and he flicked his tongue across her nipple.

Her breath hitched, and he opened his mouth over the tip, pulling her deep between his lips.

Digging her nails into his shoulders, she cried out, and the sound unleashed a rush of molten lust inside him. He groaned, pulling her closer and knowing it wouldn’t be enough.

Not until she was his.

He cupped her nape, dragging her down to meet his mouth. The sheer rightness that uncoiled inside him as her lips parted for his made him burn even hotter. He’d always assumed being burned alive would be a painful way to go, but the feeling of Emma tunneling her fingers into his hair and moaning against his mouth was more than worth the heat sizzling through his veins.

The kiss moved from drugging to wild, and some place in between as he unsnapped her trousers and pushed them down over her hips.

Her thigh brushed his arousal, and his jaw clenched.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

Only in the best way possible. He shook his head, the effort it took to speak coherently with the cat riding him so hard was better spent getting her naked.

“Cian?” When she wiggled on top of him again—trying to get up?—he groaned, and she caught on. And did it again. One deliberate, sexy arch of her spine that made all the right places rub against him.

She nipped his jaw, and he growled. He doubted she even knew what she was doing to him every time she dragged her teeth across his skin. The temptress didn’t leave his mouth until he finally stripped her clothing off, along with the scrap of material fitted to her ass, and pulled her up his body.

Her nipple whispered across his cheek, and he paused long enough to draw her into his mouth, sucking soft and slow.

“Please,” she murmured.

He didn’t ask what she wanted, hoping it was the same thing he did. She caught his arm, uncertain, as he tugged her along. Only when her knees straddled his shoulders did he ease his hold on her.

“Wait.”

He didn’t. He curved his hands around her parted thighs and lifted his head for his first full taste of her. Her damp folds parted beneath his tongue, and she cried out. That right there was what he wanted, hungered for. To touch her and feel her tremble all over.

Licking deeper, he inched his mouth higher, laving the slick knot at her center.

“Yes.” She flexed to rub against his lips, her breath hissing out the moment he pulled her into his mouth.

“Cian, don’t…don’t stop.”

Not even if she begged him to. Not until he made it so incredible for her that she’d fall apart. Maybe then he’d be able to slow down for a moment, instead of want to devour every inch of her. No female had ever gotten so deep under his skin, and acknowledging that only made him that much more determined to find out why this one captivated him like no other.

Opening his mouth a little more, he kissed and teased her, slowing only when her thighs squeezed him.

She edged away from him, her moan almost a sob.

Satisfaction curled through him, making him even harder. He wasn’t sure how that was even possible considering the heightened state of arousal he’d been stuck in for the last three days.

With the most decadent revenge in mind, he eased away, kissing her inner thigh and slowly working his way back. So slow every whisper of satiny skin across his lips sent a hot burst of need straight to his cock.

By the gods, he was in trouble. And he wasn’t even inside her yet. Laying a hot, wet path through her folds, he circled the sweet center of her, laving until she cried out.

After rocking gently against his mouth as her climax faded, she slid down, tucking her face against his throat. He used the time to try and get a hold of himself—and gave up before she’d even caught her breath.

Not even the sound of her chain dragging across the floor as he hauled her to her feet could stop him from finishing what they’d starting in the kitchen. She fit too perfectly against his body, his mouth, his heart—

Everything inside him skidded to a stop. Right up until Emma looped her arms around his neck and sucked his bottom lip between hers. The teasing nip and slide of her mouth across his threw a switch in his head, wiping out the insane thought he hadn’t been able to finish.

Later maybe, when the stunning female with haunting gray eyes wasn’t pressed against him and kissing her way down his chest.

Sweet Avalon.

Unable to make it the rest of the way across the room, to the bed, he took the few steps needed and backed her against the wall. The predator in him growled in triumph at cornering her, trapping her.

Emma’s chest rose and fell in quick bursts. “This isn’t… I didn’t expect it to be like this.”

Neither did he.

Slanting his mouth across hers, he tugged his trousers down, and the second his shaft brushed smooth, hot skin, he groaned. She didn’t wait for him to nudge her legs apart, reaching out instead and closing her hand around his cock.

Fuck.

For a second he felt like he had on the roof. Disoriented and overwhelmed, and much too close to losing his mind. And then she pumped her hand up the length of him, and pleasure rushed in.

“Closer,” she whispered against his mouth.

With her hand guiding him to her sex, they were about to get as close as two people could. He cupped her ass, massaging his way to her hip and then down to lift her leg. She hooked it around him, sighing a little as he fit against her.

In one smooth thrust he was inside her, sinking all the way to heaven. Her nails dug into his biceps, and when she released the breath she’d been holding—and she wasn’t the only one—her body relaxed, letting him get a little deeper.

He dropped his forehead to hers, trying to remember how to make his lungs work, then he withdrew and pumped his hips to fill her again and again.

Instinct rushed in with his animal half’s need to dominate, and for a long minute he fought it. Fought it until his muscles ached from holding back. One last slow push inside her to savor the clench of her slick sex around him, the incredible sounds she made against his mouth, and then he thrust harder.

Her mouth found the curve of his neck, where she pressed hot, wild kisses in between each soft cry of pleasure. Both of which were testing his ability not to explode inside her any second. And he wasn’t ready for it to end. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

“It feels like I’ve been waiting forever to find you.” It had to be one of the most insane thoughts he’d ever shared with a female. Even more insane was feeling it right down to his bones.

He searched her eyes, unsure what response he was looking for—hoping for?—until a slow smile lit up her face. Crushing his mouth over hers, he lifted her a little higher, getting as deep inside her as he could.

At some point both of Emma’s legs were wrapped around him, their hands linked before she needed to hold onto him as he pounded into her. Next to them the painting rattled, falling on the floor a few seconds later.

“There,” she hissed. “Right…” She moaned into his mouth, the hot walls of her sex rippling around him as she came a moment later.

“Emma,” he growled, pumping his hips faster…faster.

He dropped his head to the crook of her shoulder, burying himself inside her and holding on as his release slammed into him.

“Cian?” Her voice soothed him, and he slowly raised his head, wondering how long he’d been lost in thought as his body came back down.

“I wasn’t expecting that,” she admitted quietly, lifting her gaze to meet his. “Wasn’t expecting you.”

Serious gray eyes tunneled straight into his soul, flipping a panic button in his head.

Even as he eased away from her, need clawed through him. The cat wanted to curl around her, stay with its mate—

He stumbled back.

No. It wasn’t possible. She couldn’t be his mate. She may have been all he’d thought about for the last three days, but if she were truly his mate he would have felt that instant awareness of her the night she’d cursed him.

“What did you do to me?”

“What are you talking about?”

He caught her arms.

“You’re hurting me.”

“Tell me what you did to me. What kind of spell did you cast?”

Confused, she shook her head. “I didn’t cast any spell.”

“Undo it. Now.”

“Evidently you and your brother have been drinking the same Kool-Aid.” She flattened her palm over his chest. “Do you really think that what you felt, what we both felt, was because of some spell?” Her tone dared him to disagree.

So he did. “You turned me to stone. If I felt a fraction of the hunger for another female that I feel for you, do you think I would be here?”

She flinched and shoved him back a step, seeming surprised when he retreated. “I did not enchant you.”

“You’re lying.” There was no other explanation.

She jerked on the chain cuffed to one wrist. “Maybe you didn’t get the memo, but this makes it impossible to cast.”

“So you found a way around it.”

“Clearly spending a century as a rock left you a few pebbles short.”

It took him a minute to get her meaning. The sorceress talked circles around him. To purposely confuse him more than he already was?

She shoved past him.

He growled and reached for her, stopping when he realized how badly he wanted to be closer to her. “Where are you going?”

“To the bathroom,” she snapped. She slammed the door behind her.

Cursing, he rubbed his hands over his face. Whatever Emma had done left him turned inside out, and she had done something, hadn’t she? She was powerful enough to channel the dagger’s magic, had used it to curse him. Any sorceress capable of that might have been able to find a way around the magic-nulling cuff she wore.

The cat raked the edges of his mind, feeling betrayed by Cian’s thoughts. Torn in two, he prowled the length of the room. Maybe she hadn’t found a way around the cuff. Maybe this was all part of the original spell, a safeguard to prevent him from hurting her in case the curse was broken.

He swung around to face the bathroom. “Emma?”

She didn’t answer him.

He deliberately softened his tone. “Emma?” He knew yelling at her was not the best way to get answers. At least that’s what he told himself when he knocked on the door.

No response.

“Damn it, Emma. Talk to me.”

When she continued to ignore him, he walked in. A blur of white sliced across his peripheral vision, and then pain exploded across his skull and everything went dark.