Lyssa's gaze rose. While he was obviously stimulated by her body, Jacob had his clear blue gaze focused on her face in a way that told her he saw the woman behind the seductive pose. The woman he'd seen that day. "When you got up to leave, he caught hold of your arm. From a distance, even to someone close by, that's all it would have looked like. A man grasping a woman's arm. He never stopped smiling, but he broke your forearm, just crushed the bone and it gave. You went white, but you didn't sit back down. You stared at each other, a stalemate. I remember Thomas was completely expressionless, but something vibrating from him said if he could have called the bull up into the stands he'd have staked Rex on those horns."
Lyssa turned her attention toward the ceiling. She had a mural painted there. A moonlit night, shadows of clouds chasing the full, pale beauty of the orb. Thomas's stars gleamed among the images. "It's difficult for mortals to understand relationships between vampires," she said at last. "He was almost invincible. There was no move he couldn't anticipate. He'd read almost every book I'd heard of, and he never slept well. It was as if his mind was constantly accelerating. What did your brother say?"
"He told me it wasn't our business. That you were a vampire, too. As if that made a difference."
"It does, Jacob." She ran her fingertips up her throat, tracing the arteries, feeling the scrape of her own nails. "We never did finish our manicure. I have what you need here. You can finish it tomorrow night."
"Whatever my lady wishes." The tone of his voice indicated he was frustrated by her unwillingness to say more. She could ignore that, of course. But something made her want to give him something, just a piece.
She turned back on her hip, one hand draped on it so his gaze could not help but be distracted by where her fingers rested, inches from the folds of her sex beneath the lace. It allowed her the pleasure of looking at him without that too perceptive gaze on her face. Her Irish knight had fine definition in his arms and across his stomach. She'd likely have him shave off all his body hair except on his skull, if she kept him. But she wasn't displeased by the thatch of hair gleaming on his broad chest. She liked the idea of stroking through its softness, tugging. Plus, he'd already proven the worth of his beard and moustache. She didn't go back to his eyes, preferring the sense of physical stimulation only.
"Not all vampires are sexual dominants, but most are. We have very strong sexual compulsions, and we live by a stringent pecking order. You maintain your place on the ladder by proving you can repel any threat to it. Rex had wanted me since we first met. I knew we were meant to be together, for many reasons. But we never could reconcile that part of our relationship. I would not become his slave, for I knew the depths of his cruelty and his need. If I had ever relented, he would have killed me, for he'd have had no use for me. But because I never did…"
She'd become the enduring passion in his life. The one thing he'd loved, as much as he understood what love was. She'd thought loving her could help him become the man she'd sensed he was capable of being. A memory rose in her mind, of Rex sprinkling rose petals over her bare body. While she'd slept, he'd gathered them, every rose from miles around it seemed. She'd wakened from a dream into a snowstorm of petals while he'd stood over her, showering her in them. Pale pink, white, bloodred…
When he'd sunk between her parted knees, she'd scooped up two handfuls and poured them over his head, watching them tumble over his shoulders. He'd looked at her in what for Rex had been a vulnerable moment. Wondering at her, not understanding her. So different from himself but in that blink of time content to know she accepted him. No doubt, no challenge. When she exposed her throat in invitation, he sank his fangs into her, his body penetrating her as well. She'd wrapped herself around him, holding him. Though she'd known it was a fleeting moment, the capriciousness of time was something she understood and accepted as well. Hours later, he created a crown of the thorns and made her wear it so he could lick the blood that trickled down her forehead off her cheeks, her lips.
There'd been only one creature powerful enough to kill him. She had.
"My lady?"
"I'm tired, Jacob. No more stories for now. But… why didn't you and your brother hunt us that day?"
"We were there for another vampire. It was odd, though." Jacob paused. "He said he would hunt Rex in time, but he would never hunt you."
"Because I'm a woman?" She was amused at the thought. "That kind of foolishness must be a family trait."
"No. He's killed female vampires before. He didn't say why, just made sure I saw you so I'd recognize you were off-limits. Once I saw you… I knew that would never be a problem. I could never cause you harm, my lady."
Her attention moved deliberately over his bindings, underscoring his helplessness with a mocking look. "I agree. It's also a good thing Rex is gone. He would have killed your brother with as much effort as blinking."
A muscle flexed in Jacob's jaw and he shifted his hips, giving her the pleasure of watching his cock and testicles move with his body while bound in the uncomfortable jewelry. "I wouldn't underestimate Gideon."
"I don't. There was no overestimating Rex. Whatever you believe he was capable of, he was. Plus far more."
Chapter Fourteen
The dampening effect of her mockery and the serious turn of their conversation gave him little relief. The purr of her voice rubbed like soft fur against his cock, which made that contraption she'd put on him even more excruciating. As she lay on the bed not ten feet away, the flickering candlelight reflected on her nipples, made the cleft of her cunt shift behind the pattern of her nightgown like the shadow of an elusive creature.
He'd never been forced to submission by a woman, never gotten aroused by it as she'd made him respond. At least to himself, he was forced to admit the thing imprisoning his cock made him hard mainly because she'd wanted to put it on him. It made him think of how she'd described the pleasure of slowly binding a servant, letting him feel his gradual descent into helplessness. The clasp of the cock harness kept the image of her hand's there. The fascinated desire in her eyes ran through his mind, over and over.
She was a witch, sorceress, Medusa, vampire. He suspected he'd seen only the surface layers of a woman with more faces than the thoughts wrestling in his mind.