He should be grateful for those centuries at least.
Grateful? With a yell, he shot to his feet, throwing his glass into the fire. Before it shattered, he'd already sped halfway up the stairs, having no idea whether he'd throttle her, rut her, or just clasp her tight against him.
He'd made it all of two hours here before succumbing to her call.
Why did he always lose, when he so badly needed to win . . . ?
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chloe whirled around when MacRieve entered the room, then raised her brows in surprise. He looked wasted.
He had to get drunk before he could sleep with her? And the dojo dummy takes a hit!
"You look surprised to see me." He scratched his head, ruffling his thick hair. "Why's that? You know I'm in your thrall. You know nothing could stop my feet from taking me here."
Aside from being trashed, he seemed filled with rage. She felt like she was in the room with a bomb about to detonate.
His eyes flickered ominously as he raked his gaze over her. "A red robe," he grated with a bitter laugh. "Keen on seducing me? No need! I am thoroughly be-strewed-could never escape your clutches."
"It was the only one in the closet," she said defensively, but he wasn't listening.
"Come then, succubus." He spread his arms wide, his expression inscrutable. "Your dinner has arrived, awaiting naught but your consumption."
How was she supposed to reply to that? She guessed she should just be happy that he wasn't making her beg.
When she didn't answer, he shrugged, then started to undress. Unsteadily, he toed off his boots, dragging his shirt over his head.
Though she was wary of his current state, the sight of his muscle-packed chest elicited an immediate physical reaction in her. Her breasts grew even heavier, her heartbeats accelerating.
"Tell me how you're preferrin' your repast," he said, his accent so strong she barely recognized his voice. And his fury-tinged words sounded . . . old-fashioned.
He paused with his fingers on the button of his jeans, inhaling deeply. "Ah, I think Chloe craves what's in here verra badly."
God help her, she did. Her succubus half was clamoring to feed. Don't reach for him-
When he unfastened his jeans and his erection bobbed free, her gaze locked on its movements. A feeling like delight filled her when the head grew moist, as if begging for her tongue.
Once MacRieve stood before her naked, magnificent in the firelight, he spread his arms wide again, as if he expected her to fall upon him.
Part of her seriously wanted to fall upon him.
His broad chest heaved with breaths. Between those narrow hips, his shaft jutted proudly. His testicles hung heavy beneath it. "Is this no' what you want?" When he gripped himself with one big hand and began stroking, every fiber in her body tightened with lust.
She should be doing the stroking. That's mine. She clenched her fists, shaking with the effort not to rush him.
Watching this was at once erotic and wrong, like . . . punishment.
"How does my succubus mate wish to be deflowered? I could lie back on the bed, for you to straddle my cock. Least amount of contact that way. And you would no' muss your hair."
Huh? As if she'd ever cared about that.
"No kissing, naturally," he continued. "Would no' want to smear your lip rouge."
Lip rouge? "For real, MacRieve? I don't understand what you're talking about." She simply didn't know enough about sex to determine what his game was. Did he truly intend some kind of punishment? Was this domination? Some sort of role-playing?
In the past, she'd let him lead, guiding her, but now she didn't understand where he wanted to take them.
At her blank gaze, he stopped stroking.
"I'm here by your command." His gaze narrowed into a malevolent glare. "You tell me how you prefer this," he hissed between gritted teeth, "or I promise you, succubus, you will no' like what you get. I'm a heartbeat away from freeing my beast."
She pulled her robe tighter, protectively. "But you said it'd take me on my hands and knees. That it'd take me hard."
"Oh, it would."
She shuddered. "Have you forgotten that I'm a virgin? I don't want to see that thing again!"
"Doona want?" He crossed to her with a black look. "I gave you a chance to tell me what you want! You declined."
She quickly said, "Then I'd prefer not to have sex at all. We can be as we were before."
"No' an option." When he stood before her, he said, "I've sacrificed myself on this altar. I stand ready to be harvested thoroughly-and one fuck closer to being envenomed. You're going to feed, succubus, and feed well."
She bit her lip, wondering if there was any play at all for her to make. "Then tell me what you want."
Control.
Will needed for this to be different from the sex he'd known with Ruelle, and craved for it to be different from the sex he'd had as a beast.
"The succubus would like to know how I'd have this?" he sneered, still surprised she hadn't sunk her claws into him yet. "Why? So you can deny me what I truly crave?"
He was close enough to spy the swells of her breasts beneath that damnable red robe. Close enough that her breaths ghosted over his chest.
-Claim her. Provide.-
He was bloody about to!
She gazed up at him with those big hazel eyes. "Just tell me."
Why no'? He was just drunk enough to be honest. "I want to kiss you till your lips bruise beneath mine. I want to swat your plump arse, simply because you belong to me and I can."
She swallowed and her nipples stiffened even more against her robe.
He peered hard at them, giving a harsh laugh. "And because I know you'll get off on it. I want you to come a dozen times, but only when I allow it." He reached forward to clamp her nape. "When I look down on you as I mount your little body, I want to know that you're as desperate to receive my cock as I am to give it to you."
Her lips parted, her lids going heavy.
"I want to say filthy words in your ear, because it gets me hard"-he tightened his grip on her-"and because it's a tool for me to use, like a third hand with which to pet you."
She'd begun panting, her breasts rising and falling so temptingly. Her nipples now strained against the silk. Yet her hands still remained by her sides.
Could this be different from before? Because Chloe was different? He shook his head hard, now wishing for clarity. "I want total control of this situation, total domination of you, until my beast wrests it from my claws." And in exchange, I'll be giving you one-third of my soul. "I want you on that bed, awaiting my touch." Now that he'd spelled out his wishes, imagining every one, nothing less would do. He'd feed her, on his own terms. "Have we an understanding?"
She shook her head.
Denying him! He dropped his hand with a growl. Why should he be surprised?
"I'd like my lips bruised from your kiss," she began, "and I want you to come as many times as I do. Because that's only fair. Right now, for some reason, the idea of you spanking me turns me on-as much as the neolithic idea of belonging to you. So I'd love for you to demonstrate what the hell that's all about. And I'm asking you to use every filthy word you can think of, but stop calling me succubus."
She climbed on the bed-awaiting his touch?
"Chloe?" His voice broke lower.