Warlord Wants Forever - Kresley Cole [28]
“None. Why, you can force me to have sex with you nonstop all month!”
“Why would I force you when I can barely keep your hands—and mouth—off me now?”
“Wroth, darling,” she purred, smiling so sweetly. “I can’t wait for the next time I get to put my mouth on you.” In an instant the smile faded and she snapped her teeth and yanked her head back as if she was chewing something free.
He didn’t even have time to cringe because she wriggled from his shirt then. At the sight of her naked body, his cock shot hard as steel. She sensually dragged her underwear up her legs and then bent over in only the thong to step into a skirt. Just as he was fighting the overwhelming urge to take her hips and feed himself into her, shrieks erupted from downstairs.
On edge in this place, he moved to peer over the landing outside her room and found ten or more Valkyrie downstairs. Some were lounging in front of a TV, bowls of popcorn in front of them—that they didn’t eat. One was up and sparring with what looked like a ghost or a phantom. When the pair crossed in front of the television, the others screeched and threw popcorn at them.
A small Valkyrie stalked in the door. She was covered in blood.
“Cara!” they shouted in greeting, completely unsurprised by her appearance.
“What’d you get into tonight?” one asked from her perch on the mantle.
Cara pulled her sword sheath from her back. “My human unknowingly went into a demon bar. A demoness thought to make her lover jealous using my charge.” She shook her head. “It was everything I could do to keep the demon from ripping Michael’s throat out with his teeth.”
“How’d you do it?”
Without blinking an eye, she said, “I ripped the demon’s throat out with my teeth.”
When they all laughed, Wroth raised an eyebrow, vowing that Myst would never see these malicious creatures again. Never. Without their influence, she would be kinder, gentler.
She sure as hell couldn’t get worse.
“Have Myst or Daniela returned?” Cara asked.
“No. I’d expect this from Myst—”
Because she often ran off with men?
“—but certainly not from Daniela. She never returned from the Quarter.”
“Well, the hits keep coming—I just saw Ivo the Cruel in the Quarter.”
When they laughed again, she said, “You should know by now that I do not jest about vampires unless they’re dead.”
They sobered and one asked, “Has he returned for Myst? Somebody needs to warn her.”
Wroth quickly turned back to her room—but Myst was gone.
He traced to the opened window, then to the end of the field below when he caught sight of her sprinting away. He yelled for her to stop and somehow she kept running.
She was fast and might have outrun him with her unnatural speed as she covered miles, but he traced, lunging from that momentum to snag her ankle, tripping her forward. She wore plugs in her ears from a music player. Enraged, he yanked them from her, heard the music blaring and threw the contraption into the woods beyond.
She’d almost escaped him. Before he’d claimed her. Thoughts grew distant. A shadow fell over his vision. He pinned her down, tossed up her skirt, then ripped the silk from between her legs, glorying in that feeling. He was finally going to take his Bride.
Hazily, he realized she was still struggling from him. Her words echoed inside him. “Wroth, you want it? I’ll fight you for it.”
He would always fight for her, always. Would he fight her for the right to her body?
“Then you’re mine.”
Chapter Eight
A nightmare was about to take her.
When his fingers dug into her skin, dragging her beneath him, she knocked her forehead against his. He bellowed with rage, until she squirmed around and drove her elbow back into his throat. As he fought for breath, she took advantage by scrambling from him enough to mule-kick his chest, sending him reeling.
Why hadn’t she broken his neck with her elbow through his throat? She had before with other vampires. Why did she hesitate whenever it came to hurting him? She wouldn’t again,