Page 19

Rhys’ master suite was masculine, yet elegant enough to hold a feminine undertone in the design. Obsidian walls, much like the rest of the wing, flowed like silk and magic, pulsating as they slithered with a life of their own. In the center of the bedroom, a massive canopy-style bed sat. Running along the ebony wood around the top were lengths of satin in a pale shade of white that twisted and hung in each corner of the posts.

I’d never been one to think of black-coloring for interior design, but it was both sleek and voguish. It made everything else within the space pop while making it all very stylish. It changed my mind to darker colors for interior designs.

On the ceiling, a mirror had been positioned intentionally over the bed. From where I stood at the threshold of the chamber, I could see the satiny white eiderdown covering the bed. I had to stifle a snort as I imagined staring up while Rhys’ body surged against mine, enveloped in immoral pleasure.

My hold on the plush towel tightened until my knuckles matched the pale color of the bedding. Subduing the unease and rising need, I ventured deeper inside the room. The dark ebony of the bed’s frame was striking against the pale shade of the soft, inviting pillows.

Silence filled the air around me until Rhys’ husky, guttural voice whispered against my ear, “Lose the towel, Love. I’ve tasted and fucked every inch of you with both my tongue and cock. You’re having my baby. We’re past being shy around one another.”

A shiver started at the base of my spine, then shot down to my feet. Turning around, I glared at him as my face became a scowl, and I chewed on my bottom lip.

“It isn’t that I’m shy. It’s that you no longer have any right to see, touch, or taste a single inch of me anymore.”

The way his eyes dragged down my frame was one of ownership. The azure darkened as he brought it back up, lips curling into a cocky, self-assured smile.

“Do you think I’ll find the changes to your body anything other than lovely, Remi?” His voice had lowered to a raspy, seductive tenor.

Rhys’ words caused my heart to race. My stomach performed gymnastics as a whisper of hope fluttered through my chest. I quickly shut it down, refusing to acknowledge it or allow it to grow. I’d been there and done that with this man already.

Creating a disgruntled noise in my throat, I rolled my eyes. “It no longer matters to me if your cock gets hard over how I look.”

Tilting his dark head, he held my gaze momentarily. “You’re having a baby. It’s natural to feel self-conscious about the changes in your body. However, I think those changes are lovely. It’s my child who’s creating them. You’re lovely, if a little underweight. You should eat more often. My woman and child need proper nutrition.”

“Am I allowed to eat? I wasn’t sure if you fed your prisoners or preferred to starve them as a form of torture. That’s what I am. Right? Your prisoner.” Unwilling to break the challenge burning in my stare, I held his glittering gaze as he stepped closer. “I could use a healer, too. But I’m guessing that isn’t something you intend to offer me, either. Right?” The darkening of his face told me I’d hit the mark.

Rhys enjoyed making me back down from his dominance. I once enjoyed the protection and feeling of him crowding my space. I’d fucking loved the feel of his hard masculinity against my soft femineity. He’d often crowded the air I breathed, leaving me breathless and dizzy from the intensity of his ravenous hunger.

The keyword here was I had . He’d destroyed the part of me that hadn’t minded being weak or soft in his presence. That girl had vanished the day he’d tossed her aside so easily, as if she’d never meant anything to him at all.

I’d let this man use my body for his carnal desires. He’d savaged every part of me until I’d felt as if we’d become one soul. One soul that needed the other to continue living. Rhys had cut me open and laid me bare, devouring all resistance against his brutally iniquitous desires. If I said I hadn’t loved every second of the debauchery we’d partaken of, I’d be lying.

“Yes, you are my prisoner. At least for now,” he admitted before stepping past me. Silently, I studied his muscular back as he strode straight for the wall. Then, in shock, I watched him step through the solid surface.

Confusion rushed through my mind at how he’d vanished through the inky-dark surface. Standing in nothing but a towel, I squirmed as cool air fluttered over my naked skin. Goosebumps spread over me from head to toe as I became chilled. It was as if the walls and the magic within them responded to his passing through.

Rhys reappeared holding an oversized shirt. “Remove your towel, Remington.”

Straightening my spine, I considered arguing against what he’d instructed me to do. It wouldn’t do any good to rebuke or argue against his demand, though. It never had. Choosing to not allow his pushy, arrogant ass to make me cower, I released the hold I held onto the towel with, then brazenly stood before him, utterly naked.

Rhys’ lips parted as his breathing stalled, as if the sight of my nakedness had struck him harder than my palm ever could hope to hit him. Licking my suddenly dry lips, I chewed my bottom lip.

“Do you intend to give it to me, or were you planning to dress me yourself, Van Helsing?” I asked. Inwardly, I flinched as my tone mirrored that of a shameless siren who called to her lover with an excess of lustful need filling each word. “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”

Rhys’ glittering eyes greedily slid down my frame with naked need churning within their blue depths. Leisurely, as if time held no meaning, they dragged from my thighs to the small swell of my abdomen, then lingered on my swollen, aching breasts.

A moment of insecurity pierced through my mind. It had my fingers curling inward against my palms. Pushing my shoulders back, I relaxed my fingers as he returned his focus to my face.

Thin, wispy lines of obsidian spread from his eyes. My heart stopped, then returned at an increased speed. A smile spread over his lips. Then the dark, inky lines rescinded just as quickly as they’d appeared.

“Let’s go get you something to eat.” Tossing an oversized shirt at me, he strode past me, leaving me to ponder what had happened.

Stewing, I felt my cheeks heating with mortification. Rhys’ demon hadn’t come out to play. He’d merely allowed me to see a sliver of the creature to force me to flinch. The smug prick had wanted to remind me where I belonged on the food chain within his territory, per se.

“Don’t keep me waiting, Love. I’d hate for you to go to bed hungry.” The smugness in his tone told me he was enjoying my embarrassment a little too much.

Yanking the oversized shirt on, I punched my fists through it before trailing after him. The shirt went past my knees, reminding me of the one Ian had loaned me during my first week away from Rhys.

I’d worn the same outfit for three days sans panties or a bra. On the fourth day, they’d all sat me down to educate me on immortal heightened senses. Of course, I’d refused their charity. At that time, I’d assumed I’d be able to go buy clothing.

It was how I’d discovered Rhys froze my accounts, even the ones I’d thought were hidden in the offshore accounts. Regrettably for us, he’d easily identified them and frozen them before we could withdraw the funds.

Nyota had withdrawn some money, but then he’d realized what she intended to do and froze her accounts before terminating her credit cards.

In short, he’d ensured I was destitute, desperate, and left hopeless. Not that I’d felt any of those in the beginning. I hadn’t felt it until I’d been forced to admit I couldn’t afford new clothing or anything I needed.

Ian, Conrad, and Hunter had offered to loan us funds. Never one to accept money from others, I’d denied needed it. At least I had until Nyx pleaded for me to reconsider their offer. When Nyota promised me that Rhys would be livid if we were to purchase the club, I finally caved. It was right in front of his sanctuary.

“You don’t look hungry. In fact, you look rather . . . lost inside that pretty head of yours.”

“I was merely thinking about how Ian’s shirt covered much more of my legs than yours does,” I answered demurely, enjoying the way his smile faltered as the corners of his eyes crinkled. “He’s much larger than you are, though. Everywhere.” Pausing in front of him, I smiled coyly. “Something bothering you, Love ?”

His lips jerked up in the corners before he placed his hand on the doorjamb, collaring my throat in his palm with the other. My eyes widened as he leaned close to my lips and chuckled wickedly.

“Ian wouldn’t fuck you, Remi. He’d never cross me. No matter how delicious that cunt of yours is, he’d slit his own throat before endangering the treaty among our houses. Fair warning. Next time you try to pit me against another? Remember, I enjoy claiming what belongs to me.” Leaning in closer, he pressed his lips against my ear. Hot, feverish breath fanned my flesh as he spoke in a raspy, sex filled tone. “But not as much as I’ll relish reminding you who you belong to. I’d turn you inside out and make you fucking scream my name until it’s the only one you know inside that pretty head.” His thumb turned my chin, allowing his lips to drag over the pulse beating wildly at the hollow column of my throat.

My thighs pressed together as white-hot arousal rushed to my core. A white, fiery ball of need formed in my abdomen, twirling like a tornado inside of me. My nipples pebbled, straining against the soft cotton of his shirt.

“Remington, my clothes look good on you.”

Giggling, I brought my palms up against his chest, intending to flirt with him. Then, I intended to push him away from me. Instead, my palms flattened against the sinewy muscle of his chest, sending all coherent thought draining from my head.

His flesh was warm, hard, and smelled delicious. Notes of whiskey, dark smoke, and cologne flooded my senses, leaving them drunk on the primal masculine form in front of me. Sliding my hands up to his neck, I closed my eyes, enjoying the feeling of him pressing against me.

Neither of us spoke or moved as our lips hovered a hairsbreadth from one another. Our bodies remained like that, suspended in a moment of nothingness. Yet, it was much more than either of us would ever admit to the other.

I felt the protection, strength, and desire. He’d shield me from harm. Rhys would give me strength when I was weak. His body would desire mine until the last breath escaped my lungs. I felt it to the very center of my being. As if it were there just beyond my reach. All I had to do was take the initiative and press my lips against his.

I don’t know what he felt from my soul, but I jerked back, dispelling the moment. His eyes thinned at my response. Heat surged to my cheeks, forcing my face to lower until my hair shielded it. My eyes rounded at the impressive display his cock created against the gray sweatpants, which had them flying up to lock with his ravenous gaze.

“The kitchen is through the hallway I brought you through. I suggest you get something to eat, then go to bed. I’ll return later.” With that, Rhys stormed back toward the bedroom.

“What about the healer?” I called out to his retreating back. Turning around, he pegged me with an angry, withering glare.

“My healers are where they should be right now. Tending to my sister. They’ll tend to you once they’ve rested and regained their strength. Goodnight, Silversmith.”

“Have fun with your hand, asshole,” I muttered, then spun on my heel, heading for the kitchen.