With a growl, he deepened his kiss, lashing his tongue against her in a show of dominance, while his hands released her wrists to explore her body. His fingers trailed up to her shoulders, then swept down to her chest, lightly caressing her sides, not daring to touch her breasts yet, for fear he’d start something he couldn’t pull himself back from. But her soft moans tempted him to throw caution to the wind, to take what she was so clearly offering.
As if to underscore her willingness to submit to him, Faye’s legs spread wider, and he suddenly found himself sliding into the space between them. The hard outline of his cock rubbed against her center with only his boxer briefs and her thin negligee providing a barrier. A barrier that didn’t prevent him from feeling her heat and the wetness that covered her sex.
Instinctively he thrust against her center of pleasure, rubbing his erection over it with unerring precision.
A gasp issued from her mouth as her hips arched in an effort to increase the friction he was providing. What he was doing was crazy, but he couldn’t stop. The thought of driving her to ecstasy was too tempting to resist, the need to make her submit to him in every way too urgent. The desire to make the woman in his arms shudder with pleasure guided his next action.
His tongue swiped over her teeth, licking them. Faye’s response was immediate. Her fangs elongated, extending to their full length, and her fingernails dug into his back, pulling him closer, while her legs wrapped around him, her ankles crossing behind his back.
Cain accompanied his next thrust against her clit with a swipe of his tongue over one fang. Faye trembled beneath him, her heart frantically beating against his chest, her breaths rushing from her lungs, while her pelvis ground against him more urgently now.
He could feel how close she was, just as close as he. Already now, pre-cum was oozing from his cockhead, and in a few seconds, he would spill.
Cain ripped his lips from her and lowered his head to her neck. Inhaling sharply, he could already smell her blood. He put his lips to her pulse, shivering at the gentle vibrations the blood rushing through her vein caused.
“Tell me you still love me, Cain!” she suddenly begged.
As if doused with cold water, he jolted back, releasing her. He couldn’t make such a confession, couldn’t tell her he loved her. He’d met her only hours earlier, knew nothing about her other than that she made his cock harder than it had ever been. She made him want to take her and ride her until they were both boneless. But he was wise enough to know that it wasn’t love that caused his reactions, but lust.
He didn’t know whether he loved her, whether he’d ever loved her. And he couldn’t lie to her about it.
Cain disentangled himself from her and sat back on his haunches.
Faye’s eyes widened as she reared up. “What’s wrong?”
He turned his head away from her, away from the temptation she still presented, and swung his legs out of the bed.
“You have to go. I’m tired from my journey.”
It was an excuse, and they both knew it. But what he couldn’t tell her was that as much as he wanted to make love to her now, he couldn’t. She’d accepted Abel’s proposal. She was still Abel’s woman. He couldn’t trust her affections or her motives. And he didn’t want to be loved by her only because he was king.
Faye scrambled to get off the bed. When he glanced at her, he noticed how her lips were pressed together tightly. She avoided looking at him.
Without a word she turned to the intricate work of art that adorned the wall and pressed the fingers of both hands into different indentations, before stepping back. The wall opened, revealing the passageway behind.
“We’ll talk tonight,” he called after her, but she didn’t reply.
A moment later, the opening was once more hidden by the sculpture and Cain was alone.
16
Abel hated to venture out during daytime, but today he didn’t have a choice. He gunned the engine of his red special edition Ferrari. It was equipped with a UV-impenetrable windshield and windows, thus allowing him to drive during the day when otherwise the sun would have burned him to a crisp.
When he turned off the main road leading south, he slowed the car and adjusted to the bumpy dirt road leading deeper into one of the bayous Louisiana was famous for. He didn’t come here often, but he knew the way nevertheless. Few others did. And he preferred it that way.
Outside a rickety shack deep in the bushes, he parked the car as close as possible to the front entrance. He killed the engine and slipped on his gloves before pulling the hood of his dark sweatshirt over his head and donning a pair of big sunglasses that made him look like one of the Blues Brothers.