CHAPTER SIX
Consciousness returned slowly and with it came an awareness of her environment. She was in a bed; her memory however was a tad fuzzy on how she ended up in said bed. Keeping her eyes closed, she listened to the room, taking stock of her injuries. Isabelle remembered twisting her ankle. She remembered being attacked by Baseball Cap and Brian, then everything was hazy. Where had she ended up? She was sure it wasn’t a hospital or she would be having a panic attack with all the people around her. Turning her head and keeping her eyes closed Isabelle listened to the silence in the room. It appeared she was alone.
Tentatively she reached out with her ‘curse’, feeling the energy in the room. She didn’t feel anything, no joy or hate, no jealousy or guilt. Letting out a breath she felt she’d been holding for twenty years, she enjoyed just a moment of total, blissful silence. She was enjoying it until a voice rumbled through the room, setting her body on fire.
“I know you’re awake little human.” It rolled through the air like the caress of fingertips, brushing over places hidden deep within.
Goosebumps rose on her skin and her breathing stopped. She remembered that voice, someone saying she belonged to him. That just ruffled her the wrong way. She wasn’t someone’s possession. And what was with the “little human” talk? It was almost as if he were…wait. A memory returned. A glowing man, he swallowed something dark, something that came from inside Baseball Cap.
Isabelle felt her heart rate go up, this wasn’t good. Had her rescuer now become her kidnapper? It was clear by the fact she was dressed in an oversized shirt and she had no weapons to speak of. So, how was she going to get out of this mess? Natalie would have called the police by now surely? Someone would be looking for her.
“No harm will come to you here, Isabelle.” The way he said her name caused all sorts of things to turn liquid inside her. Holy crap was it even legal for a man to be able to turn you to a puddle of water with only your name? No, definitely not, especially when he was your captor.
Opening her eyes slowly, she focused on the male sitting across the room and watching her like he was starving and she was a five-course meal. Swallowing against her suddenly dry mouth, Isabelle pulled the covers tighter around her body, as if in some way it would offer a shield from his piercing gaze. Fat chance.
His eyes seemed to spark with an inner glow that reminded her of light reflecting off the back of a cat’s eye. A mess of black hair hung around his intense eyes. A night’s growth of stubble marred his cheekbones and chin, and what a chin. This male exuded confidence and power. His body looked like rock. Hell, if running into him last night was anything to go by, he was built like a damned mountain.
“It appears I’m at a severe disadvantage here. Not only am I missing my clothes, but you know my name. Can we even this up a little?” After last night’s almost sexual assault and impending death, Isabelle expected to be a lot more panicked right about now. But this male, for all his power and his lost forlorn eyes, he gave her the impression she was safe.
There was a powerful lack of emotion in the room, like he wasn’t really here with her, when clearly given by the lack of oxygen she was experiencing he was very much here. Despite feeling joy at not having to shield for once, she also found it very disconcerting not to feel anything from him.
The silence that followed seemed to drag on, his eyes never leaving her. Self-conscious doubt began to trickle into her mind. Hell, she knew she was hardly what one would call thin, but she was by no means a cow or anything. His gaze seemed to skim over her body, and Isabelle wasn’t sure if he liked what he saw or was disgusted by it. It was an odd experience for her, given ever since she was ten-years-old she had been able to feel what everyone around her was feeling, positive or negative. It didn’t leave many surprises when you were growing up.
“Look, Mr. Grouchy, you’re the one who bought me here. So you could at least explain to me where here is. Who were those other men with you before? Why did you bring me here? What happened to the men who attacked me? Oh God, I need to call the police and report them…”
“Do you ever shut up?” His interruption cut through the rambling panic. Stopping her tirade, Isabelle glared at the infuriating bastard. Damn if he didn’t just rub her the wrong way, which was the total opposite of what she wished he would be rubbing. A man like this was built for hot, steamy nights and no regrets in the morning.
“No, as a matter of fact, I don’t. Given this is the first time I have been surrounded by silence since I was a child, I actually find it quite disconcerting. And the fact you seem unwilling to reveal your name makes me think I am in as much trouble now as I was last night.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she turned her head towards the window. The first touches of color painting the morning sky had her wondering if Natalie was worried about her. Not like she had anyone else—they were all gone.
“I seriously doubt that, little human. You seem to find trouble. First being in that place with those hedonistic humans. Then stumbling upon two corrupted souls who were determined you wouldn’t survive the night.” By his tone he didn’t sound the least bit impressed. She couldn’t blame him.
“Little human? Corrupted souls? This is insane. I need to leave. I have to get back home, my roommate will be worried.” Isabelle swung her legs from the bed and stood. The shirt she wore came to just above her knees. Hell, until this moment she thought being five foot ten was freakishly tall, but if this shirt belonged to Adonis over there, he had to be six-foot-six easy. The male tensed, his hands making fists in his lap, his eyes locking onto her like a hunter with his prey.
Awareness prickled over her skin. She could feel him watching her. She should have been terrified; he was a stranger after all. Yet something inside her accepted his gaze, even welcomed it. The look he gave her could ignite the damn air. Opening her mouth to speak, she found her throat bone dry. Tentatively licking her lips to ease the dryness brought a strangled groan from the male in the corner.
“Please, I would like to leave.” Her voice broke on her plea, but it wasn’t from fear. Curse you, traitorous hormones.
The look in his eyes was both an inferno mixed with desperate despair and longing. The silence between them dragged on. Isabelle could feel her heart beating hard in her chest. She should leave. He wasn’t making a move to stop her. But his look of desperation stabbed her heart and she found moving was impossible. He had saved her after all. Despite nearly unmanning him, he’d come for her. How many men would do something like that for a stranger?
Her feet seemed to move of their own accord as she moved towards him, her toes sinking into the carpet. He was as still as a statue, only his eyes moved as she slowly advanced. Their vision locked, and she felt déjà vu again surge through her again. He seemed so familiar, like someone from a dream. She remembered him, yet didn’t. It was all broken and fragmented.
“Please, tell me your name.” Her voice was barely a whisper.
Greed was hanging onto his control by only the barest of threads. She should have walked out of the room. One of his brothers would have seen to her safety. But the very idea of one of them touching her, protecting her, was abhorrent to him. No one else would protect her, save him. He knew, down to his dark soul, he would turn the world upside down for her.
Greed took in every nuance of her voice, every word, storing it away in his memory for when she was gone. His usual clawing desire to possess everything seemed to diminish in her presence. Her voice was like cool water running over his eternally heated skin.
“I’m Greed, of the Seven Deadly Sins.” His voice toned low, he watched with satisfaction as she trembled. Her very scent exploding with the sweetness of arousal, he watched her pupils dilate and her breathing hitch. Whatever spell they were caught in, it wasn’t him alone. She wanted him, her body betrayed nothing. He could reach for her, and she would be willing, warm, and pure. NO!
Dropping his gaze from hers quickly, he took in sharp breath. He would not corrupt her. He would not expose her to his dark desires. She was a Seer, a pure being who should never know true sin. He was a demon of the darkness. His very essence built from the sin of greed. He would take and take and take until she was drained dry of everything she was. Then he would want more than she could ever give. It was the nature of his curse.
His growl turned feral as he stood and moved away from her, putting the length of the room between them. It would never be enough to calm the desire to pin her to the wall and taste that sassy mouth of hers.
Isabelle blinked, trying to sort out what had happened in her brain. She had been drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Turning to where he had retreated, she watched his back as he breathed deeply. For the first time in her life, she wished she could read someone’s emotions. Was this how normal people felt all the time? Unable to read what another person needed?
“Greed? Seven…Seven Deadly Sins?” That was crazy. People didn’t name their children Greed or Gluttony, not unless they wanted a lifetime of therapist bills for their damaged kid.
“Human, you need to keep your distance. I am not some biddable mortal male you can command with those eyes of yours.”
“Command men with my eyes?” The laugh left her before she realized it. “You’re seriously deranged. Me? Ordering men around? I don’t think so. I would rather not touch anyone, let alone send them off to do my bidding. And what’s with the human talk? Are you not so very subtlety trying to tell me we’re not the same species?” She ended with a soft laugh. But he turned his gaze to her with a total deadpan stare. Her smile faded as quickly as it arrived, and a chill washed over her skin. “You’re joking, right? You can’t seriously expect me to entertain the idea you’re not human? I mean look at you. If you ignore the fact you’re a walking god, you look just like me…”
“Demon.” His voice broke through her rant.
“What?”
“Demon. Not god.” He turned to face her, taking one step, then another. Stalking towards her. A look of hunger and desperate need in his eyes.
Isabelle stepped back each time he advanced, her breath caught in her lungs, eyes wide. Was he out of his mind? A demon? Surely he was on medication or something? Maybe this was just one of those role play dudes who got way into his ‘art’ and believed he was a demon. Yeah, that could be it. Yet the look in his sparkling eyes washed that idea away. Feeling the wall at her back, the man—no, the demon—stopped one step from her. The space between them seemed to shimmer and hum with energy, crackling with promise.
“What no smart ass come back? I can see your mind working through your options. One, I’m delusional…” He moved his hands to either side of her head, effectively caging her in against the wall. “Two, I am just making this up and I’m dangerous, or…”
He leaned in; the very air around them sizzled with power, flickering over their skin, causing a sharp indrawn breath. Heightened awareness sank into her flesh. If he kissed her right now, she would allow him. God help her, she wanted his mouth on hers. For all the fear rolling from her, her burning need outshone it. His lips brushed her ear and her knees went weak.
“Or three…I am telling the truth.” His last words were spoken in a whisper that caused her body to go into meltdown.
She should be screaming, running, beating at him, something! But her brain was on hiatus, misfiring with the proximity of his body to hers. Her mouth opened and closed, trying to form words. But her body was no longer hers to control. His scent wrapped around her like a blanket, shutting out everything but him. When his lips brushed her throat, she felt her heart rate jump. Her skin tingled, every nerve came alive. She had never felt desire like this. It was a palpable need pounding in her veins, blocking out everything but him. Had he drugged her? No, he wouldn’t, she knew in her very soul. He would never harm her.
Her hands lifted to his sides. His breathing was hard and deep. She could feel each expansion of his chest. He was shaking, his hands now fists on the wall beside her. Her fingers found the edge of his shirt, sinking under it, feeling the heat of his skin against her palms. The man before her went as tight as a bowstring, a low almost agonized groan set off sparks deep in her womb. His body closed the distance, pinning her to the wall. Fire rushed over her skin, sinking in and taking hold, robbing her of any desire to leave him.
What was happening to him? One touch from this little human and he knew he would forsake the gods themselves for her. The desire to strip her naked, sink deep into her body, a body he knew would be welcoming, raged inside him. He had to taste her, had to delve between those lips and drink down her pleasure.
His body physically burned and she was the only balm to cool the fever. His cock, a part of his anatomy he had long thought dead to him, strained against the confines of the jeans. Pressing himself against her soft belly, shocks of long forgotten pleasure rushed through him.
Oh God, how long had it been since he had felt any sensation other than the bite of pain against his ravaged skin? Her throat was so soft against his lips, the skin of her cheek like velvet. Shit, it might as well have been. He felt like he was thief in the night, and having conned his way into her home, he now sought to ravish the fair princess. Oh and he could think of so many ways to ravish this temptation before him. With a low growl, he breathed her in, the Sin inside him in full agreement. She belonged to him. Greed did not share his things.
He pulled back, his gaze burning into hers. He knew she was caught up in this whirlwind of need with him. He was reminded she was made for better than him. Ah, but no. He was Greed. She was made for only him.
“So, little minx, which do you believe?”