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It felt good to reallywantsomething. More, it felt good to feel that there’d be some satisfaction in having it. After eons of nothing being out of your reach, you ceased to yearn for things with any true intensity because there was no real gratification to be had from always getting what you desired. But Wynter … he fucking burned for her.
And he would have her.
He’d need to be careful with this one, though. She was sharp. Too sharp. He had more secrets than he knew what to do with.
“Do you ever get people asking to have their soul returned to them?” she asked.
“Yes. Some find that whatever they sold their soul for wasn’t quite as gratifying as they’d expected. That particularly happens with fame. Once they tire of its price, they come crawling back to me looking to wangle out of their contract, fairly oozing regret. A wasteful emotion, really.”
“You don’t have any regrets at all?”
“They tend to eat at a person. If you’re going to live an eternally long life, you can’t afford to have regrets. They’d drive you insane.”
“Some might say you are insane.”
He felt his mouth twitch. “Oh, they might. They do. They may even be right.”
“You don’t sound too concerned about that.”
He chuckled. “On an entirely different note … the sole male in your coven, is he your lover?”
A line formed between her brows, and she shook her head.
Satisfied gripped his gut. “Good.”
“Is it?”
“Yes. I don’t like it when things are in my way.”
Wynter stilled as the implications of that sank in. Her body was totally up for dancing the horizontal tango with him. But nothing about that would be wise.
He moved closer, boldly pushing into her personal space. “Just so there are no misunderstandings, I want you. I want your taste in my mouth. I want my cock in your body. I want my fingers in your mind.”
“My mind?” she echoed.
“When you’ve lived as long as I have, very little can surprise you. Even less can pique your interest. People become too easy for you to read. Too predictable to be entertaining. But you … you’re difficult to get a handle on. Even now, nothing in your expression is telling me what you’re thinking. It’s incredibly frustrating. I want to be up here,” he added, tapping her temple.
Yeah, well, she didn’t want him up there. As for spending a night in his bed … that idea heldwaytoo much appeal for her liking. She embraced her sexuality; she wasn’t afraid to explore or admit to her desires—there was a certain power in that, really. But this wasn’t a man who’d quite simply fuck her. He was far too dominant, far too used to control, for it to be that simple. “I’m not interested in warming your bed.”
“You’re interested. Oh, you don’t look it. I don’t see any trace of arousal on your face.” He very gently tapped her cheek with his finger. “But I can read your body much better than I can read your expressions. You let people see only what you want them to see, don’t you? It makes me wonder what else you’re hiding.”
She was hiding that she’d reached the unfortunate conclusion that she was fucked in the head. Wynter wasn’t used to being at a disadvantage. Her magick was a force that was almost as dark and deadly as the monster inside her—both those things made her very good at killing. Plus, she was trained to take down any breed of preternatural, and she was confident in her ability to take care of herself.
But as she stood in front of this immortal, she knew that none of it meant anything. He could overpower her in an instant. And that only made her want him more. So it was official—she was indeed fucked in the goddamn head.
“You’ll be attending the festivities tomorrow evening, yes?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Good. We’ll talk more about this, then. Or maybe we’ll skip the talking.”
She went still as something seemed tostrokeover her very being. Something old and dark and powerful. And the sensation … it was like nothing she’d ever before experienced. It was as if every nerve-ending went up in flames. Little bumps swept over her skin, and cold fingers danced down her spine.
Cain hummed. “I’d wondered if your soul might be unresponsive, what with it being undead, but it isn’t. Far from it. When we last talked, you asked if my being able to touch your soul meant I could cause you pain. I can. But I can also make you come harder than you ever have in your life. There’s nothing more sensitive than the soul. It’s just one big erogenous zone.” He gave her a pointed look. “Think on that.” He turned his back on her—a silent dismissal.
Shaken in more ways than one, she took the hint and left, following the winding, twisting path. She didn’t speak as Maxim escorted her out of the Keep, her thoughts a massive jumble.
She’d known Cain wanted her, so his declaration hadn’t come as some great shock. It hadn’t been entirely expected, though, either. When a being was asotheras Cain, you couldn’t really ‘expect’ anything of them.
