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He paused for a moment, his words muffled against my skin as he spoke. “Oh, I like hearing you beg, my queen. Beg some more, and I might let you come.”
“Please...” I did as he asked. I couldn’t keep still, my hips lifting of their own accord, my body begging as well as my words.
“Please what?” he prompted, curling his fingers again.
“Oh fuck. Please, Zayn! Please let me come!”
“For you, my shining one, anything.”
A sharpness scraped across my tender flesh. I felt the bite as his fangs buried deep into my flesh just above my clit. His tongue flattened against me, rubbing it as he sucked hard. My blood flowed into his mouth, and I felt my body detonate under him. I cried out as wave after wave of pleasure burst through me, carried on relentlessly by Zayn’s demanding mouth. It felt as though it would never end, and when he finally withdrew, I collapsed against the chair, fighting for breath as my body shook. Zayn sat up and lowered my leg to the ground, gently pulling my skirt down to a more modest place. He gazed into my eyes as he reached out to fasten the buttons, and I watched him, my lips parted, as I still fought to catch my breath. He bent down and brushed his lips against mine.
“I’ve wanted to do that since the moment I saw you,” he murmured.
“You barely know me,” I replied, my voice shaky.
He smiled, though it was serious and not the cheeky smile I’d come to associate with him. “My lady, you possess my soul and my heart. That you would let me touch you, pleasure you, and feed from you is an honour I don’t think you quite understand yet.” He ran a finger down the side of my face. “I pledged to spend eternity serving you, loving you. A few thousand years isn’t going to test my devotion to you.”
I opened my mouth to reply, though in truth I had no idea what to say to that, but the bang of a door had me sitting up straight.
“Urgh... Why did you let me eat so much when you knew we were flying?” Wesley asked, stumbling down the aisle looking decidedly pale. Zayn dropped gracefully back into his seat as Wesley took one across from us, tipping his head back and closing his eyes.
“How could I stop you?” Zayn inquired, his eyes on me as a wicked smile spread across his face. “The tastes of Egypt are exquisite and worth the repercussions.” I bit my lip as he slid two of his fingers into his mouth, his tongue dancing over them as he licked away the taste of my pussy. I blushed, but Wesley seemed completely oblivious and just groaned.
“Next time we travel, we’ll take a ship,” I promised Wesley, leaning over and stroking his arm.
“Ugh, no, please. Ships are even worse, with the tossing and the waves...”
I grinned. “How on earth do you ever get anywhere if you get travel sick?”
He opened one eye and looked at me. “We’ve come a long way in a few thousand years, my queen. Cars were probably one of the best inventions I’ve found in that time. Definitely an improvement on camels too.” I laughed, and he flashed me a sweet smile before fiddling with the seat buttons to lower it into a reclined position. “Zayn, wake me up when we get to London.”
“Sure thing, Seb—Wesley.”
I cocked my head, looking over at Zayn. “His name used to be Seb?”
“Last time, yeah. He was a German magazine editor for some archaeology publication. I’ll remember his new name eventually.”
I reached out for my coffee, taking a long drink of the lukewarm brew. “Weird. So in his last life he was the editor of an archaeology magazine, and this time an actual archaeologist?”
“It’s how it works. We all end up doing very similar things career wise, even lifestyle wise. We’re the same people every time we’re reborn, so we love the same things we always have and gravitate towards the same talent and skills. Take West and Jack. They are always soldiers of some kind, or men of service—firemen, coastguards, and police officers—but also darker versions too, like gangsters and members of the mob. They are trained killers, and that always comes through.”
“And you?” I asked, setting the cup down again. “You’re obviously very adept with weapons but don’t come across as the same sort of creature as West or Jack.”
He smiled, and a chill ran through me as I watched him reach into the pocket of his leather jacket that lay on the seat next to him and take out a sheathed knife. He slid the knife out, turning it slowly so the blade flashed under the cabin lights. “Well, I’m not sure how you’d define my role exactly. I source things we need, retrieve certain items you might desire, and remove problems from your path.”
I frowned. “Problems such as?”
“People, my lady. People sent to hurt or intimidate or even kill you.” He spun the knife over his fingers, controlling it with ease, and I watched it move, the chill inside deepening.
“You’re a hitman,” I said flatly.
“Kind of,” he agreed. His dark eyes fastened back on mine. “But I only work for you.”
I wasn’t sure how to feel about that. What kind of life would I have if I had my own personal hitman? What did that say about me that I had been happy to send him after people? “Did you always know that was what you were going to grow up to be? This time, I mean?”
Zayn shrugged. “I kind of fell into it, really. I grew up in a bad part of Cairo. I never knew my father, and my mother was a prostitute and a drug addict. I learned to take care of myself pretty quickly, and violence was all I knew.”
“Oh my God, Zayn.” My nervousness was forgotten at the idea of a small boy growing up in that way. I leaned forward and laid my hand on his leg. “I’m so sorry.”
