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Instead, Nithe marched her straight past it, stopping to check a door which led to a gigantic walk-in closet, before finding a bathroom fit for royalty. The bath alone could fit six people and the shower had two large shower heads which hung from the ceiling. The black marble floor sparkled, and the gold fixtures gleamed.
Jezzie caught sight of herself in one of the large double mirrors above the twin vanity, and her nose crinkled up in disgust. The dark circles under her eyes gave her features a sunken, ghostly pallor, and the stains of blood and grime coating her skin taunted her with the reality of what she and Nithe had endured.
Without thought, her hands moved to strip every item from her body until she was bare. She pulled the tie from her messy hair so roughly it snapped, and she tossed it on the counter as she half stumbled, half ran to the shower. Dragging a stunned and still dressed Nithe by the hand behind her.
The shower was a haze of warm, wet bliss. It washed away an immense amount of dirt and blood from both of them. Jezzie watched it all swirl down the drain, unable to look away. At some point Nithe stripped off his saturated clothes. Jezzie had pulled him into the shower, unaware it would turn on automatically, but he hadn’t seemed to care. She was vaguely aware of Nithe’s hands roaming over her skin leaving a trail of suds and sweet aromas. Alas, her eyes had already drifted shut, her shoulder against the wall, and for the life of her she couldn’t find the will to pry them back open.
When Jezzie’s eyes drifted shut in the shower, Nithe just managed to catch her suddenly lax body before it hit the dark tiles and hauled her into his arms, cradling her against his chest. He carried her out of the warm water, which turned off automatically. With one hand he awkwardly grabbed the two fluffy black robes that were folded over the arm of the plush lounge. He strode back into the bedroom, and tossed one aside. The other he lay out as best he could on the bed before he gently placed her clearly exhausted body on top of it, worked her arms into the sleeves, and secured the belt around her waist. After which, he proceeded to grab a towel from the bathroom to dry both of them as much as possible and donned his own robe. Exhausted himself, he climbed in beside her, pulling the covers up as he did so. As his head hit the pillow, Morpheus claimed him, too.
Swirling dreams of blood and pain, of twisted intentions, and forced compliance filled his head with torment. Sounds of screaming filled his head, his mother’s whispered words of hate as she turned away from her first-born son. The soft lullaby she’d sung him every night when she’d tucked him into bed. Shackles, knives, and hot, fetid breath . . . Light, the scent of cinnamon and patchouli, lush, red hair, and silver-gray eyes. Whispered words, soft gentle sighs. The stroke of a hand meant to soothe, not to maim.
Nithe’s eyes fluttered open as soft fingers brushed his sweat slicked hair from his brow. His ears were still offline, and his body rigid and unresponsive aside from the chills that sent shivers racing through his limbs.
“Shh, it’s okay, baby. I’ve got you. You are safe, and I’ll kick anyone’s ass who makes you feel otherwise. Shh.” Jezzie’s soft lilting voice crooned, his head cradled to her chest.
The dream faded faster than it had come upon him, but three things remained with him. Firstly, the heavy thud of his heart as it raced in fear, a fear which slowly turned into desire as he breathed in her scent, his inner beast purring. Secondly, the fact his dream had been full of color. For the dreams of dragons never were. They dreamed in black and white, and shades of glittering gold. Lastly, the sound of an angel bringing him back from despair, and she was literally just that, an angel. Well, half angel.
Face pressed against the creamy, soft skin of her exposed breasts, Nithe nuzzled in closer as he breathed in lungfuls of her unique scent. His tongue flicked out for a taste, and sure enough, it was even better than before. Pure, undiluted Jezzie, and he wanted more.
There was no way she missed the feel of his rigid length as he curled further toward her, his groin pressing against her thigh. From the way she pressed her body closer, the breathy moan that drifted from her lips, and the scent of her desire as it flooded the room, it was a clear indication to him she wouldn’t be averse to continuing their earlier intimate activities.
“Ni, you should know, I want you. Like, right here, right now. But I will not take advantage of a vulnerable man, even if I desperately want to suck his glorious cock and caress every inch of him.”
If he’d been standing, her words would have brought him to his knees. Shit, how in the hell his life had become, in the darkness that was his every day, had he managed to find her, his perfect mate? Had he been wrong? Did the Fate’s not actually hate him, after all?
“Jez, right here, right now,” he echoed her words back to her. “I am not vulnerable, for you make me strong. The beast in me desires nothing more than to claim you, and make you ours. The man I am already adores you, and you just tipped him over the ledge into head over heels in love, a stór. If you don’t take me, I may just shrivel up and die.” He pouted playfully, trying to add some levity to his words so she didn’t freak out about the whole love thing.
“You love me? Like, really, truly love me? How? You don’t even know anything about me. I could be a deranged murderess out on the hunt for my next victim, I’m not, but I could be.”
Disbelief quivered through her voice as Jezzie rambled out her questions; her chaotic thoughts. Not even pausing to allow him time to answer.
“No one falls in love this fast, especially with me. No one has ever fallen in love with me, for that matter. Seriously? I mean, I really, really like you too. Okay, I more than like you, and I know it’s fast. I’ve never liked anyone this fast. The guy from the alley years ago, and his dream friend, get my blood pumping and all, same as you, only muted somehow, like they’re too far away. And yes, I feel it in my heart that you are mine, and I am yours. Just as I feel they are mine too. I just never really expected anyone to ever feel that way about me. Least of all, someone as drop dead gorgeous and amazing as you are. You are amazing like this all the time, right? I mean, you’re not some crazy stalker with a weird penchant for killing women after you sleep with them, right? Or one of those assholes who expect a woman to stay in the kitchen, and pop out babies, while bringing you sandwiches and beer all day? Please tell me you aren’t one of those. I will not be in a relationship with someone like that, I think I’d end up committing mariticide. What’s with the whole mate thing anyway? I know dragons have them, but I’m not a dragon. I’m half Shadow Hound angel, half psychic vampire. What is it with angels knocking up other OtherRealmly beings, anyway? It’s not supposed to be possible from what I’ve read and been told. Mm, oh, that feels so good.”
Jezzie finally paused to suck in a breath then bit her plump lower lip. Her eyes just about rolled back in her pretty head as his hand slid up her thigh, tracing circles on her sensitive skin.
Her head snapped up, her eyes drilled into his, as though she could tell if he lied. Shit! Psychic vampire! She probably could, too. Add in the unpredictable combination when added to her angel side, and who knows what she could actually do.
“Ni, you mean it, don’t you.” It wasn’t a question, but still he sat up and nodded his head. “You know you might not be the only one?”
“What does that mean, Jez? Dragons are notorious hoarders, they value their women, but can be overwhelmingly monogamous, and generally only have one mate. Usually the women are not given any other option, I admit. But I’m unfamiliar with any other way. The angel in me thinks it’s bullshit, FYI. Especially knowing how much dragon males and females are sexually diverse prior to finding their mates.”
“Did you know angels don’t dream?” Jezzie asked.
“Really? Dragons only dream in shades of black and white with hues of gold overlaid. They don’t dream at all?” He felt his forehead furrow.
“Nope, no dreams at all. Neither do psychic vampires. Not really, and not in color either. What we dream are the remnants, the emotion infused leftovers of the feelings we siphon from others to feed our own hunger.”
“Okay, what does this have to do with other mates?” he queried.
“Well, before I ended up with Ballzy, I met a Shadow Hound in a dark alley. No idea which one, it was a very brief interaction. But, ever since then, I’ve been dreaming about him. Harmless, sometimes naughty dreams. Until recently. The last time I had one, he had a friend with him, and something extra seemed to tug at another invisible string attached to my heart. It was a really good dream, my brain was obviously working overtime to keep me upbeat, or so I thought. Until I went to shower and realized actual cum covered my torso. Ballzy was watching through the window, clearly not at that stage yet, so it wasn’t him. He told me later about meetings on the Astral Plane, how rare it is, and how a strong bond or destiny is usually involved.”
“Balthazar was watching you have dream sex?” Nithe growled low in his chest, his fists gripping the silky sheet until his knuckles threatened to break through skin.
“Well, yeah, I was technically a prisoner then. But I feel like we’re good now. If not friends, at least not enemies, and it’s not like I hadn’t slept with him already. Only once, mind you, and never again, eurgh.”
He couldn’t take the influx of new information right now. The thought of her and Balthazar made his stomach churn. Strangely, the dream scenario actually piqued his curiosity, and caused his cock to twitch, which didn’t help his mental state. He focused on her mouth, her still moving mouth.
“No more talking, I can’t take anymore right now, please.” His last word turned into a gravelly groan.
