CHAPTER SEVEN
Paul Henry had been born into a position of power, raised with that in mind. Always. Not only was he heir to a global enterprise worth billions, but he was destined to continue a legacy of vengeance and retribution against the most evil creatures spawned: Vampires. His ability to command seemed a gift from birth. He was known for leadership authority, an ability to direct, and a propensity to dominate. He didn’t lose control. Ever. And yet, right now. With Eska?
All of that might as well be a description of another person.
It wasn’t possible. And he couldn’t figure out why.
Eska didn’t just possess vampiric allure. She was danger and enticement and magnetic force all neatly packaged into the sexiest woman imaginable. It went beyond her beauty, which was considerable. A billboard graced with her face would snarl traffic. Her figure was exactly what he liked. Supple. Strong. But there was something more happening here. Something he’d never run across. It must have to do with vampirism. Nothing else made sense. Everything she did sent a blizzard of impressions. Waves of fire-touched heat. Flickers of lightning-charged surges. Paul Henry scrunched his eyes shut and tightened muscles. He hadn’t another choice. He had to withstand an onslaught of gut-clenching sensation that defied description.
Focus, Paul Henry!
Maintain focus.
It wasn’t just a mental exercise. Right now it was absolutely essential. He also needed to stay on task. Avoid anything to do with sensory experience and emotion. This wasn’t an experience he’d been trained for, but it wasn’t fatal. He needed caution. Vigilance. Alertness. And a massive dose of endurance.
So sanity would prevail.
At some point.
Facts. He needed facts here.
Paul Henry began mentally listing them, assembling a defense. Nothing was as it appeared. Eska was not young and lithe and gorgeous. She couldn’t be. He knew what she really was. He’d spent years going over that lesson. Eska was a dead being. Dusty. Dry. It didn’t matter that the shell was a luscious siren. No one should desire her. The possibility shouldn’t even arise.
Wait.
He needed to consciously force his mind to change the description. It was not desire. His body was demonstrating lust. They may have termed this sexual satisfaction, but that was splitting hairs. He was providing sexual service. Why she wanted him was unfathomable. It hadn’t made any sense when she’d proposed it, and it still didn’t. But it was not pleasure.
The sentence flashed through his mind. Became a chant. Not pleasure.
Not pleasure.
Tonight was an assignment. A chore. Once completed, he’d move on. Forget. Bury the memory. And never dredge it up. Anything else was self-destructive.
His brain hammered directives. His body was another issue. He was going to have to force the issue.
Paul Henry pulled in muscles that already burned with effort. Grunted as non-rhythmic shudders wracked him. Eska might be every undesirable thing he’d just listed, but it didn’t help. This woman possessed wicked enticement atop sensual skill. She raised craving beyond comprehension. Locking gazes with her had been a heart-pounding event, but whatever she did to his neck opened up a well of erogenous splendor. With his eyes shut, it was inescapable.
Warm.
Wet.
Totally erotic.
His mind went on complete hiatus. Grumbles of disagreement turned to waves of appreciative growls. They filled the area, showcasing his enjoyment. This woman not only aroused. She tantalized. Enticed. And sent all kinds of erotic provocation. Resistance didn’t just sound unfeasible. It wasn’t even in the range of possibilities.
But he had too much to lose.
And somehow he remembered that.
Paul Henry struggled against an unseen fog of allure. Somehow he spoke, but the words were as contradictory as his tone. “Eska...wait. You have...to stop! I can’t...go back if—oh. That is so nice.” His voice lowered with appreciation, but then came rushing back with a spate of frantic words. “I mean, no! You have to stop! I’m not fully changed! Eska!”
She giggled. His heart contracted. His body jerked.
“I haven’t done anything yet,” she told him.
Oh, yes she had.
He was abuzz with a morass of electrically charged surges. And then she licked him again. Paul Henry shot up from the padded surface. The chains stopped his lunge. Liquid spewed onto him. He dropped with a thud. Droplets scorched and burned, while he writhed and swore. But then everything stopped, altered instantly by whatever she started doing to his throat again. Sensation ratcheted to another level, and a blast of heat shot clear through him, sent with fire-hose efficiency.
His heart got slammed first, then his gut. But his groin was the real target. He hadn’t any defense against it, although his briefs tried. He wore the best, not simply because he could afford it, but because they were worth it. Constructed from a light-weight, breathable spandex and cotton blend. Extremely comfortable. Easy to move about in. Looked great, virtually invisible beneath the slimmest-fitting trousers. But right now, they created all manner of discomfort because of how they restrained. And restricted. And his words only made it worse.
“You are so...sexy. And so—. This is—wow. Just wow.” Reason returned from somewhere, changing his words and tone. “Oh, no. No! Stop! You have to stop. Now.”
“Hmmm?”
She murmured against his neck, sending vibrations his body had no trouble interpreting. His dick strained with renewed fervor against the confines of his undergarment.
“Oh...woman. That is so good...but no! We mustn’t! We can’t! No blood! You have to stop!”
“Such fuss.”
The words were whispered, sending another subliminal message. His dick telegraphed it instantly, taking the constraint of the briefs past discomfort and into the realm of physical tenderness, and even that was unsuccessful at fending off her arsenal of arousal.
“Eska...please?”
She lifted her mouth from him with a sigh, halting the magical flow of wonder. The instant loss was tangible. He barely halted a groan that announced it.
“Such a worrier.”
“You bit me. In violation. Of our agreement. Already.” He separated the wording, mostly due to being out of breath, but they sounded authoritative. Harsh.
“I did not. See?”
Her fingers touched his neck before she lifted them for his inspection. There wasn’t a speck of blood anywhere.
“But what? How?”
She licked her lips. Gave him an air kiss. “Are you sure you want to know?”
“I’m not sure of my own name at the moment.”
“About that...I have changed my mind. You’re not a Hank. You are definitely Henry.”
Oh. Balls.
He had never heard the name spoken in such a suggestive undertone. His heart reacted with a heavy thump. His throat closed off. His body pulsed spasmodically. He was in luck that it wasn’t far enough to send water showering onto him again.
“Henry?”
He barely heard her say his name again, but it registered that she wasn’t intoning it with sensual vibes this time.
“This is not working,” he announced.
“I think it’s working rather well,” she replied.
“I need mobility. I can’t possibly—Eska.”
Shock filled the name. It was also higher pitched than his normal auditory range. He didn’t know how he got his voice to work at all. Shock wasn’t even accurate. Eska didn’t act like she heard him as she proceeded hiking her dress to her hips, revealing legs that belonged on a super model. And she wore lace-topped thigh-high stockings too, their presence skimming her legs with a silken mist.
This wasn’t just shock. It was awe.
And then she put a knee beside him, climbed up, and straddled him.
Paul Henry fought for air. His eyes and mouth went wide. Her thighs gripped his hips. She arched her back. Slid down...
Oh.
It didn’t feel like she wore anything beneath her gown except stockings, but his briefs were working overtime. Thankfully, something was. Cotton and spandex seized his groin and were not surrendering despite how he attempted to drill through them. Emotions flooded him. He recognized frustration. And then anger.
Paul Henry grabbed for her waist, stopping her.
Oh, hell.
That was stupid.
He tensed. Sucked in a breath. Grit his teeth. And still grunted as a shower of water misted them. He’d prepared to withstand it. She hadn’t. She gave a sharp cry. Her weight disappeared. Moments passed filled with his ragged breathing. There was an odd echo to it that he couldn’t quite place.
He turned his head and located her. She’d flown to the center of the room. Golden light framed her, haloing her mass of dark hair. Her eyes were wide and dark. As he watched, her dress slowly slid over her hips and down her legs. His heart thumped raggedly. Heavy beats filled both ears. They also had a reverberation, as if two drummers beat at bass drums in tandem. It was difficult to hear. Harder to think.
“This won’t do, Eska. You need to get me loose. Now. Right now.”
“Don’t move.”
“What? Don’t you dare leave me! Don’t you—!”
“I can’t break your cuffs if you bring the water.”
Paul Henry glared at her for a moment longer before nodding. “I won’t move.”
She skimmed the floor toward the end of his platform. Orange silk clung to the curve of her buttocks, the material moving with her. Paul Henry didn’t stay completely still. He followed her progress, swiveling his neck to keep her in sight. She reached his feet. Hooked a finger beneath one ankle cuff. Twisted her wrist. And snapped the iron shackle apart like it was a celery stalk.
His heart skipped a beat. He swallowed.
One down.
Paul Henry lifted his leg and shook it. The broken band fell off with a clank. She put her finger beneath his other ankle shackle. He shifted his head just enough to watch her around the obstruction of his arousal. His dick was alert, hard, and scrunched in place. It was impossible to overlook. Or ignore.
Facts hadn’t helped anything. This might be a forced copulation. With a monster. Covered with ancient skin. But what was happening defied logic. This went beyond lust. It was barely controlled want. Physical need. Massive craving. And his body displayed all of that...to an embarrassing degree.
She turned her head and caught him looking. His education on vampires failed. Because she tipped her chin down, her gaze slid away from his, and he could swear she blushed.
Blushed?
His frame lurched with a series of motions that hadn’t the slightest rhythm to them. He was lucky they didn’t bring another ration of acidic water; and yet cursed at the same time. At least, pain provided a disruption. She moved her finger out from beneath his unbroken manacle. Clasped her hands together. Looked indecisive. Paul Henry’s response was immediate. Abrupt. And hard-toned.
“Why do you stop?”
She shook her head.
“Why?” Anger tinged the word. And when she didn’t speak, leaving him to interpret things, he got even more frustrated. “I don’t understand. You are the one who started this!”
She glanced at him again, then away. “I know...but—.”
Her cheeks darkened farther as she stopped her explanation. Paul Henry nearly howled with aggravation before catching it. A display of aggression wouldn’t get him what he wanted here – Eska beneath him. Ripe. Open. Moist...
Oh no.
He froze.
Oh. This was bad.
He didn’t want that. He wanted his freedom. Period.
Paul Henry put his head back down. A self-disgusted sigh accompanied the move. He didn’t even care. This was akin to being in a blast furnace. Getting the flames stoked. Then cooled with a shot of liquid. Fired up again only to be cooled with another jetted stream.
Ignited.
Cooled.
He’d never gone through such conflicting emotions, nor suffered them in such vivid quotient. He shut his eyes. Tried to bring up the ocean view again. Sun-warmed sand. Wind-brushed palms. Crashing waves. He licked his lips. Shuddered through another round of hormone-induced tremors. And felt her touch at his ankle again.
He lifted his head. Reopened his eyes. Held his body rigid, his expression impassive. She snapped the iron cuff apart by feel. He shook it off with the same lack of attention.
“Thank you.”
He mouthed it. She nodded.
Two accomplished. Halfway there, Paul Henry.
He crooked his outer elbow, lifting his wrist. Water droplets fell from behind his head somewhere and chains clinked as they moved a fraction, but nothing stung. “You need to finish,” he told her.
“I...know.”
“Then finish.”
“You won’t renege, will you?”
“Of course not. You have my word.”
“I’ve heard that line before.”
“Not from me.”
She still looked skeptical. Paul Henry caught another flash of irritation. Her teasing took him on a rollercoaster of emotion...all of it completely foreign. Even now, just halfway to it, freedom was such a heady concept, he could almost taste it. He swallowed, and barely heard her whisper.
“Once you’re free...I have no bargain.”
He growled the response. “Come along, woman. See reason! Where would I go? And how? You’re a vampire! You’d catch me. Besides...” He lowered his voice. “I think you’re ignoring a bit of rationale...that I shouldn’t even need to mention.”
He glanced to his erection. Back to her face. A flush rose through his upper body, sending a circuit of warmth where he didn’t need any. The next moment she was at his side, slipping a finger beneath his wrist iron. He hadn’t even seen her move. Paul Henry met her gaze. Caught his breath. Vibrated with an enchantment she seemed to conjure so easily. Her gaze absorbed him. Her eyes were so deep. Dark. Utterly mesmerizing. He barely felt the cuff snap apart. He didn’t have to shake his arm for the bracelet to fall. The weight was enough. The manacle fell off the side of the platform, taking the length of chain with it. Metallic clanks filled the chamber.
One left.
One.
He lifted his far arm and gingerly brought his wrist to her. Chains skidded across his skin as he dragged them, but nothing dripped onto him. She didn’t move.
“Break it, Eska. Now,” he prompted.
“I...don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
“If I should.”
A blast of heat hit him. Paul Henry sucked in a breath. Cut short an expletive.
“Isn’t this enough? I mean, you look mobile enough to—?”
“No,” he interrupted.
“Can’t we just—?”
“No!”
Paul Henry twisted his manacled wrist, grabbed a large iron link in his palm, and tightened his fingers around it. He didn’t look, but he knew the knuckles whitened. His fist shook.
“But—?” she began.
“I said...no!”
Paul Henry was finished playing games and being teased. He wasn’t just in danger of losing focus. For the first time he could recall, he was fighting to keep his temper. His eyes narrowed. His breathing quickened. Each inhalation came harshly and sharp, only to be followed by an exhalation just as hard. A red film even coated his vision. And it darkened with each increasing heartbeat.
And at the center of that was Eska.
Damn her.
He grabbed the edge of the stone platform with his free hand. Pulled himself into a sitting position. She took a step back from him. Another. Paul Henry clenched his teeth together so viciously, something tore. He tasted blood. Scowled. Scooted a measure toward her. Maneuvered his still-chained arm behind him, to keep it close to the wall. Then he slid off the platform. The stone beneath his feet was cold. He barely felt it. His knees bent, returning feeling sent prickles. A slosh of water went back to a continual drip.
“Break the cuff, Eska. Now.”
Her response was another step back from him. Paul Henry barely caught the oath.
“I am ordering you!”
Her eyes widened, and then she did the unbelievable. She spun and sprinted out of sight around the corner.
Shock filled him. And then fury. His howl reflected both. It sounded like an enraged beast. Reflex action took over. Paul Henry turned. Locked his hands together. Set his feet. Sucked in a breath. Tightened his muscles. Yanked with all his might...
And the bolt sprang free.
A mass of metal and shards of rock sailed outward toward him as Paul Henry stumbled. Dodged the projectile. Nearly fell. He stared for the briefest moment at the impossible.
And then he took off after her.