Seduced by the Vampire King

  “Come on me, Katya. I want to feel it. I want to see it.”

  “Nikolai,” she whimpered, holding his gaze. His finger simultaneously eased the ache and escalated it as he penetrated and thrust, his palm providing more of that glorious friction against her clit. Panting, she couldn’t keep from moving her hips and urging more. Inside, her body tightened around his finger.

  “Mmm, yes.” Licking his lips and drilling his intense, flaring gaze into her eyes, he added a second finger.

  Kate moaned at the fullness, reveled in it, wanted more—even if her desire scared her. The thought was fleeting. His fingers moved in and out of her in a shallow quick pattern that rocketed all her energy downward, then detonated in a brilliant explosion of light and heat that sent her flying, falling, floating outside herself.

  Hanging on the bars, her whole body sagged against him, her weight falling onto his hand between her legs and his chest. She was dimly aware of the approving growl rumbling from deep in his throat.

  He wrapped an arm around her back and tugged her hair, gently pulling her head back so he could claim her mouth. The kiss was slow and sensual, full of the promise of more to come. And despite the fact that the room spun around her and she couldn’t control the pace or volume of her breathing, more was exactly what she wanted. She couldn’t wait to have the chance to bring him the same incredible ecstasy he’d given her.

  Nikolai pulled his hand from between her legs, but didn’t leave her skin. Still under the stretched fabric of her panties, his big, warm grip slid around to grasp the naked curve of her hip. His fingers were wet where they dug into her ass, but she couldn’t feel embarrassed about it, not after he’d shown her the pleasure her body was capable of experiencing. He broke the kiss with a gleam in his eye. A cocky smile played around the corners of his mouth. As infuriatingly smug as it was, he wore the good humor so well she could only find it sexy.

  “Katya, I—”

  An exaggerated cleared throat sounded from just down the stone corridor outside her cell. “My lord, Anton awaits you in the security booth.”

  Kate sucked in a breath. But neither the voice nor the intrusion of the reality that others probably knew what was going on in here were the most alarming thing. Not by far.

  Nikolai flew back from her, eyes and head averted as if he’d done something wrong. Breathing hard and scowling, he bent down and retrieved both their shirts. When he stood up, he held her sweater out to her, but didn’t look her in the eye.

  In almost slow motion, Kate released her hands from the bars, just now realizing Nikolai’s actions had frozen her into a spectator as she tried to decipher the marked change in his mood. The moment her hand clutched the soft blue of her sweater, tears pricked the backs of her eyes. She clutched the cotton to her chest. “Nikolai—”

  “Don’t,” he snapped, his voice low and tight. He yanked his shirt over his head, hiding those beautiful tattoos, hiding himself, from her gaze. “For God’s sake, clothe yourself.”

  Blinking repeatedly to pinch off the threatening tears, Kate slipped back into her sweater. She tugged at the zipper to her jeans, but it wouldn’t budge. Had he broken it? She buttoned the top and stretched her sweater downward to make herself decent.

  For the first time since her orgasm, when he’d worn that beautiful little smile she’d thought so appealing, Nikolai met her gaze. His was cold, distant, disgusted. He stepped up to her and glared. When his eyes flickered to the door and back, she realized she was standing in front of it. He was waiting for her to move so he could leave.

  Her face flamed hot and her heart thundered mortification through her veins. Biting her tongue to restrain the apology she almost uttered, Kate took three steps backward, clearing the door and putting lots of space between them. Space he apparently wanted.

  Nikolai reached through the bar and turned the key hanging in the lock. He pulled the door open and, without looking back, without another word, stalked out of the cell.

  Chapter Eight

  Nikolai needed to punch something. Repeatedly. Anything to distract himself from the hurt and humiliation he’d seen in Katherine’s pale blue eyes. The hurt and humiliation he’d put there. What the hell had he been thinking?

  He glared at Leo, standing with his arms crossed at the end of the hall, and dared the young warrior to give him a reason to lose his shit right here and now.

  Leo dropped his gaze. “Anton’s in the security booth.”

  The king—for it was the first time in a long time he felt so deadly serious about an order—got right up in the blond’s face. “After the doc’s done with her, you get her out of that cell. Back to Moscow. Out. Of. Here. We clear?”

  “My lord—”

  Nikolai fisted the man’s T-shirt and dragged him in closer, flashing his fangs in warning. “Are we crystal fucking clear?”

  Leo’s gray eyes flared a silver light that hinted at the man’s own building anger, but he kept his mouth closed.

  “Nikolai,” Mikhail said, stepping from the security booth. “Let him go.”

  He released Leo with a shove and stalked past his friend into the booth.

  Anton dropped his phone into his pocket and smiled. “My lord, you’re looking better. Want me to examine your n—”

  “There’s a human woman in there who got banged up earlier and was complaining of headaches.” He pointed in the direction of the dungeons. “I want you to examine her. And then I want her out of here.”

  Anton shook his head, his good nature not dampened at all by Nikolai’s lack of niceties. “I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “Been snowing all day. Must be two feet of snow out there. Roads are a mess.”

  “You made it here okay.”

  “I made it as far as Poreche and hiked in the rest of the way until Leo rode out with the snowmobile. The roads back to Vasilievskoe are completely impassable.”

  Nikolai stared at him a long moment, then paced the room. He couldn’t get rid of her. Just perfect. The weight of the other males’ eyes settled on his shoulders like an anvil. He paused at the computer panel, his gaze falling on the controls to the security cameras. Heaving a breath, he hit a series of keys and buttons, bringing the monitor displaying the feed from Katherine’s cell to life.

  A pang his heart had no goddamn business feeling squeezed his chest. She sat on the floor, in the exact spot he’d left her standing, her back against the bars and her arms hugging her legs in front of her. Her face rested sideways on her knees, so he couldn’t make out her expression.

  Damn it all to hell and back. He wanted her. He wanted more of the way he felt when he was around her. Lighter, freer, relieved just the smallest, life-giving amount from the constant suffocating press of his grief. She made him believe it was okay to take a breath, a single in and out of his lungs, without thinking of how he’d utterly failed his kid brothers.

  And damn, she was so strong. Despite being locked behind dungeon bars, the first thing she’d asked was if he was okay. Her compassion overwhelmed him again and again. He kept trying to imagine the scene Mikhail had earlier described. Her, feeding him and holding his warriors at gunpoint at the same time. Of course, his men were there for him, but to think he’d met a woman with the mettle to do what she’d done, to stand up for him in a do-or-die situation. He wanted to melt into her, to crawl into his bed with her in his arms, to lay his head on her chest and sleep his pain away.

  She was his equal, in every way. No, not true at all. She was so much better than him.

  Yeah, and that kind of woman would never want a male so grossly tainted by dishonor.

  He dragged his hand through his hair, and the movement of air carried her scent to his nose. Jesus, she was fire wrapped in satin and silk. She touched him and he burned. But it hadn’t been enough. With her, it would never be enough.

  And that meant she had to go.

  With the Soul Eaters so numerous they were nearly an infestation in Mo
scow, Saint Petersburg, Nizhny and Perm—not to mention the south of Russia, where cities like Saratov were actually losing population due to the evil ones’ destructive addiction—he couldn’t divide his attention enough to even consider a relationship.

  That’s a goddamn lie and you know it.

  He could never have someone like Katherine Bordessa, and lose her. Simple as that. And the war was too volatile to chance it.

  What a fucking coward he was. No hero material here, that was for sure.

  He heaved a sigh. “Fine. Get her out of that damn cell, though. And get her some clean clothes.” With a final glance at the monitor, Nikolai offered a silent apology for the way he’d treated her, then turned his back on her image. “You—” he glared at Leo “—sparring ring, ten minutes.”

  * * *

  Voices echoed down the stone hall, but Kate couldn’t really make them out. Well, not since Nikolai had growled out his command to send her back to Moscow.

  She thumped her fist against her forehead. Stupid, stupid, stupid. How had she been so stupid? Man, she’d heard of vampires’ allure, how everything around them felt so much more intense. And now she understood it firsthand. He’d made her believe he liked her, cared for her, wanted her. The reverence in his gaze as he healed her arm, the deep rasp of need in his voice as he encouraged her pleasure, the pet names that seemed to communicate affection and familiarity—she’d fallen for every last bit of it.

  Worse, she’d thought it all meant something. As if. She thunked her head against the wall behind her and immediately regretted it. The medicine Nikolai had brought had dimmed the ache, but the bump on the back of her head was still sore.

  Wrong path, my butt. Leaving the service of the Proffered was the smartest thing she’d ever done. Tonight confirmed it once and for all.

  Then why does it hurt so much?

  Footsteps approached, diverting Kate’s attention from her self-examination.

  Mikhail pushed through the still-open door and looked down at her with those analytical dark brown eyes. Another man entered behind him, thin and kind-faced. “Katherine, I understand Nikolai talked with you about seeing Anton, our doctor.” He gestured to the other man, who smiled and nodded. “So, I’ll leave you—”

  “No.”

  Mikhail tilted his head. “I don’t—”

  “I won’t see your doctor.” She pushed up off the floor, grinding her teeth against the ache in her head.

  “Nikolai said you were complaining of a headache after some sort of injury.” Anton said in a calm, even voice. “Can you tell me what happened?”

  “Skull versus frozen ground. Okay? I’m fine.” She glanced at the man, then back to Mikhail, hating her rudeness but needing desperately to leave from where she wasn’t wanted. “I know he wants me gone, so just give me my things and I’ll be on my way.”

  Anton raised his hands. “The king was very clear,” Anton said, apparently leaving it to Mikhail to decide. “He wants me to give her a clean bill of health, but I can’t examine her against her will. I won’t.”

  The doctor’s words faded out as her brain focused on the first two that had so casually fallen from his lips.

  The king.

  Who was he talking— Oh, God, no. No, it can’t be. No braid. No jewels. How can he be the king?

  “He hasn’t worn them in a while,” Mikhail said.

  “What?” Kate asked, the room doing that spinny thing again.

  “I said he hasn’t worn them in a while.”

  Oh, jeez, had she been thinking out loud? Hoping to hide the blush heating her cheeks, Kate scrubbed her hands over her face, torn by conflicting desires: to know more, to know why Nikolai, the Vampire Warrior King of Russia, apparently, didn’t wear the symbols of his rank and title, and to get the hell out of here. Now. It wasn’t just any old beautiful, sexy vampire who didn’t want her. It was the freaking king.

  Shit. What if word of this got back to her parents? Nikolai seemed so disgusted with her when he left. They had her passport and cell phone. Surely it wouldn’t take that much research on the vampires’ part to determine her family’s association with the Electorate Council. Bordessa wasn’t that common a name.

  As if a man being repulsed by bringing her to orgasm wasn’t bad enough.

  Anton broke the awkward silence. “Well, if you change your mind, just have someone come get me. It’s not like we’re going anywhere any time soon.”

  Kate frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Go ahead, Anton. I’ll get you if we need you,” Mikhail interjected. The man nodded and left. “It’s snowing, Katherine. The roads are closed.”

  She groaned, and her stomach dropped to the floor. “Tell me you’re not serious.”

  “I’m afraid so.” He sighed. “Look, I know you don’t want to be here, but if you’ll let me, I’d like to show you to a room where you’ll at least be more comfortable.”

  “Why?”

  “Because there’s no need for you to be imprisoned. I’m sorry we did that in the first place.”

  Kate hugged herself and shrugged. What the hell. A real room would be nice, especially if it was near a bathroom. Or a shower. “Okay.”

  He held out his hand. “After you.”

  Without a backward glance, she stepped out of the cell.

  “If you’ll follow me,” Mikhail said.

  Down the stone hall, through some sort of empty high-tech office, Kate followed the warrior. The hallways leading through the downstairs were dark, rough-hewn, and she was fascinated despite herself. Wherever she was, this place was old. How she wished she could explore.

  They came to a flight of wide stone steps and made their way up. On the top landing, Mikhail entered a code into a pad on the wall, releasing the heavy door in front of them with a metallic click.

  In contrast to the dim lighting of the lower level, this floor was all white-painted cinder blocks. The bright light revealed midnight-blue tones in Mikhail’s jet hair. Along the long corridor, most of the doors were solid with only a single small square window at the top, so Kate could only get the most cursory of glances into her surroundings. In the distance, music with a driving bass beat caught her attention. The farther up the hall they walked, the louder it got.

  A warrior—the young one who had manhandled her out in that parking lot—rounded a corner and made for the closest door. His gaze scanned down the front of her before meeting her eyes, and she couldn’t read his expression. He pushed a door open, letting the screaming guitars and pounding drums blare out into the hallway full force.

  “You’re late,” someone shouted from within.

  “I’m still in time to kick your ass. My lord.”

  Kate and Mikhail walked past the door as it eased shut. Through the narrow gap, Kate had just enough time to see Nikolai’s shirtless broad back, the cut muscles decorated with more beautiful designs she couldn’t fully make out. His gaze cranked her direction and their eyes met in the split second before the door closed between them.

  God, every time she saw him, he was more gorgeous than the last.

  Butterflies took flight in her stomach. “He’s a warrior,” she said, eyeing Mikhail’s braid and trying to engage him for the first time since they’d departed her cell.

  “Yes. A great one.”

  “Then, why no braid?”

  “It’s not my story to tell, Katherine.” He started up a second set of stairs. “This way.”

  At the top, there was another keypad, and then they stepped into a modern-looking vestibule. When the door they’d come through clicked shut behind them, another door sprang open ahead of them. The room on the other side was like a huge family room. Massive leather sectional sofa, several leather recliners. A screen for a projection television. Behind a pool table sat several pinball machines, and a carved wooden bar lined a far wall.

  She chuckled, taking in the liquor and beer bottles and empty glasses on the coffee and end tables. “Is this the vampire man cave???
?

  The side of his mouth quirked up.

  She shrugged. “My dad has a room like this. My mom calls it his man cave.”

  Mikhail smiled, just revealing the tips of his fangs. “I suppose so. We half live in this room.”

  For some reason, his smile made her sad. “None of you do that very often, you know that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Smile.”

  The jovial expression dropped from his face. “Not been a lot to smile about lately.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”