Page 22 of Sweet Nightmares (Wicked Mirrors #2)

Chapter Sixteen

T he Russet sparkled, a night formed from daydreams, tension, and seductive mysteries. Every night at the casino was an experience, glittering with sin and magic, but tonight was special. It was like the place hummed with sparks.

Like most nights, Jane was overseeing the casino floor, ensuring that no one was stealing, cheating, or causing fights.

Jane, Gabriel, or Alexandre typically acted as the Pit Boss.

They took turns doing it, with Gabriel being the main Pit Boss, especially since Jane was given rule over the Mirror Black Market. However, Jane had full command tonight.

There were no events, no special singer or even a tournament, yet the floor felt different. Two of Jane’s closest friends were at a table, but that still didn’t explain the energy. Patrons were louder, cheering as people won, and even gossip and chatter increased.

Jane walked over to her friends, Constance and Jevon. At this point, Jane felt terrible that her sister was the only one from their group who didn’t know Jane also worked at the casino. But Jane didn’t want her sister near the city’s underbelly.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t keep her other friends from discovering it. Giselle hadn’t returned since being caught in Francois’s bed, but Jevon and Constance were regulars at the Russet. Interesting, considering how connected Constance was to the Viridian.

But the girl loved a party.

“Do you sense something strange in the air tonight?” Jane asked her friends. “Something seems weird, but I often have those feelings.”

Jevon rubbed his chin. “You should listen to those feelings. You are typically right.”

Warmth spread in Jane’s chest. “Thank you.” She smiled

Jevon always had a way of making her feel better about herself.

She loved all her friends—including that silly prince and Francois—but Jevon was a calm and warming presence that none of the others were.

Constance was a firestorm, Giselle a tidal wave, and Quinn a blizzard.

If Jevon were a storm, he would be a windstorm.

All great and terrible in their own ways.

“Your scary, intense blond boyfriend is staring at you again.” Constance narrowed her eyes before waving across the room.

Jane’s gaze followed her movements and landed on Nightmare. “He’s not my boyfriend… And don’t draw his attention,” Jane moaned. The last thing Jane needed was Nightmare to ruin her night. He was both far too possessive and totally unconcerned.

It was too late. He had noticed and was stalking over to his prey. Stalking, and preening, like a peacock showing its feathers.

That was the thing about Nightmare. He was never just one thing. He was a multitude, and it was impossible to know all of him at one moment.

“Hello…” The word was said as if it were a delicious candy. Nightmare stopped his prowl at the edge of their table, towering above them, and sliding his hands into his damask silk suit pockets. The pattern was woven together from black and crimson spider silk.

Prince Emrys and Nightmare didn’t have much in common—other than both being powerful vampires—but the two men loved to dress like they were in competition for who could look the richest and deadliest.

Jane crossed in front of Nightmare, shielding her friends. “Hello.” Her voice was too bright and coated with little lies.

Nightmare’s countenance immediately grew darker.

Fuck.

Jane grabbed the curve of his elbow, her eyes flicking down to the gondola boats floating through the lagoon. “Would you ride with me?”

Jevon coughed behind her, suppressing a laugh, but Constance didn’t even bother. Her laugh was bright and a little bit wicked. Jane wanted to kill them. They were not making this easier. Did they not know how close they both were to getting their heads ripped off?

A slice of silver hair fell in front of his eyes as he cocked his head to glower at them.

“Thorne,”—the name she used when he was at his most monstrous—“please, I’ll even let you decide how we do it.”

Both of her friends laughed as she led him away. His muscles coiled underneath her petite fingers, and his frame was solid stone, yet he let her lead him to an enchanted gondola.

“Please don’t kill my friends.”

“I don’t trust him.”

“You don’t trust anyone.” Jane pinched her lips together. “Don’t be jealous and possessive.”

A thunderstorm rumbled in his chest. “I’m not.”

No. Perhaps you’re not because it would require you to care. “ He’s harmless. Please don’t kill him. ”

Jane was only met with a growl.

“Thorne, promise me you won’t.”

The boat rocked underneath them, the wood creaking as she tilted her chin up so she could see the depths of his irises.

Sometimes, the only way to communicate with him was to read the twisted thoughts in his molten silver eyes.

They flickered with puzzle pieces that were nearly impossible to decipher.

But she was becoming a Nightmare whisperer.

A deep-seated fury danced in the blue-swirling silver, but there was also something else.

Almost like lust.

The boat floated into a dark cave, the Cave of Sinful Desires. It lasted long enough for a couple to fuck if they would like. That, of course, was not on the table for her, but…

She wondered. What if?

Without convincing herself out of it, Jane stood, the boat wobbling beneath her feet. She straddled him, and his hands circled her waist to steady her and the boat. Moving in closer, she straddled his lap, her eyes never leaving his the whole time, measuring his reactions.

“You are not going to distract me with your wiles, Jane.” His hands slid up her torso, directly opposing his words.

“I know,” she whispered into his lips. “Trying to seduce you will never work, because you’ll never give me what I want.”

“And what is it that you want?”

“You know.”

“Do I?” he raised a black eyebrow. “Why don’t you say it?”

Jane answered by placing her lips on his. Soft and gentle, she kept her eyes open, her focus still fully on him. A cloud of red hair fell around them, framing both of their faces.

“Jane,” he grunted a dark warning.

“Wryte.” She played with the name. It was the first time using that particular one with him.

Alexei was what she called him most of the time, and Thorne was what she called him in his monster form.

She used one of his honorifics when she was being sassy or actually adding respect to his name.

Dimitris was for when she was being playful or light-hearted.

She didn’t have a name for him when she wanted him —wanted him to rip her clothing off and take her.

One of his strong hands drifted south while the other one stayed on her waist. He was fighting a battle and losing. She smiled into his lips and deepened the kiss, opening her mouth and pressing her body deeper into his.

The action caused her hips to grind against his stiff erection.

He groaned but allowed the kiss to deepen.

The friction felt like heaven, so she ground into him again, wishing there were no clothing between them, but she also wasn’t going to fuck him for the first time on a gondola boat while she was working.

She sighed into him and bit his bottom lip before sliding her tongue into his mouth. With a violent rock from the boat, he lifted her by her waist and slammed her back into the bottom of the boat, pinning her there.

She panted, a wordless plea escaping her lips.

Slowly, tauntingly, he slid her skirts up her legs, his palms spreading heat and desperation as he worked his way up. Goosebumps painting her legs. She moaned, and he let out a dark chuckle.

“Is this what you want?” Lust dripped from his dark voice.

She nodded, and his hand reached her pussy, sliding a finger through her folds. Her breath hitched, and she clawed at the wood beneath her.

“Like this?” he asked again, circling her clit.

She whimpered and nodded again.

“Your words, little doe.”

“Yes,” it came out as all breath. “Please, that.”

He chuckled again and dipped one finger inside her, curling it.

But then something terrible happened. Her inner walls tensed, and a sharp pain rippled through her.

She pinched her eyes shut against the pain.

He removed his fingers, and she whimpered.

It hurt, but she didn’t want it to stop.

Flashing her eyes open, she begged him to continue.

“I am not going to hurt you.”

“You didn’t.”

“Liar.”

Her finger dug deeper into the wood, this time out of anger and desperation. “Please.”

Nightmare didn’t return his fingers to the entrance, but he did something almost better. He dipped his head down and blew against her clitoris.

She shivered and moaned. “Yes, please.” This time, she didn’t tense or revolt against him as his head dipped to her core, and he ran a long, luxurious lick to her folds. “Oh god, Wryte, just like—”

Her words were stolen from her as she easily fell apart, shaking beneath him and letting out a scream.

But he didn’t let up. He continued to breathe against her, lick her, and pleasure her until she didn’t even know where they were anymore.

She melted into his ministrations, lost track of time, and fell completely into pleasure.

He only stopped when the light returned and their boat left the cave.

He lowered her skirts, a satisfied smile climbing his face.

Smiles were so rare with him that she basked in it.

She knew she needed to sit up and gather herself, or the patrons would soon see exactly what they had been doing in the dark.

Nightmare lifted her up and placed her back on the seat, kneeling in front of her. He placed a gentle kiss on her lip.

“Thank you.” Her voice was low, but she knew he could hear it.

He nodded. “You may want to know a mirror bargain is snaking through the air.” Nightmare sniffed. “It seems like an enchantment from the Mirror of Luck.”