Thirty minutes. That’s how long Issac promised to remain in this room before he dragged Astasiya upstairs.
Then his sister intervened by asking him to dance. He could never refuse Amelia anything, especially this. After all, it was she who taught him the Baroque style, as well as numerous others. Not that they were following any rules now. The room wasn’t big enough, nor were there enough participants who knew the format. Instead, they followed a more contemporary style with their own improvisations.
“I’ve quite missed this,” she said after a soft spin.
“Thomas doesn’t dance with you?” Issac found the blond male in question. He stood beside Astasiya, laughing at whatever she just said to him. “I can happily fix that for you.”
“Be nice,” Amelia said, her blue gaze sparkling with mirth. “And I’m sure he would; I just haven’t asked him.”
Issac shifted his focus back to his sister. “Why not?”
“I wasn’t sure if I would still enjoy it.”
“Ah, I see. You used me as a test.” He twirled her before she could respond, causing her to laugh as he caught her. “An excellent choice, by the way.”
She shook her head. “Show-off.”
He smirked, glancing at Astasiya. The feminine approval in her green eyes lit his soul on fire. Mine, his soul whispered. Fuck the rules, the expectations, and those who said it was impossible. He would find a way.
“I’ve never seen you so taken by a woman,” Amelia murmured, her attention following his own. “It’s lovely.”
He held Astasiya’s gaze for a beat longer before looking down at his sister. “You don’t disapprove?” Everyone else had made their sentiments known, including his maker, Aidan. It’s not practical, they all said. It’s dangerous.
“I’m concerned,” she admitted. “But I’ve always trusted your judgment, and there’s something different about her.”
On that, he agreed. Osiris had referred to her as his “granddaughter.” Did he mean that in the sense that his Ichorian progeny had created her? Or was it meant to imply something else? That he didn’t require blood after sustaining himself on hers for so long was a significant mystery. As well as the other details he’d noticed that may, or may not, have been a figment of his imagination.
Like his suspicion that his powers were growing.
He cleared his throat and whirled Amelia once more, his eyes once again traveling to his Aya. She wore that white gown so well. It had taken significant restraint not to play with the low cut across her breasts or to explore the slit up her thigh. Her constant bumping up against him in the haunted floors only deepened his need. The smile flirting with her lips now said she more than shared his desire.
Issac sent a mental vision to Thomas—a subtle suggestion that the former Sentinel received loud and clear. He excused himself from Astasiya’s side and started toward them in his army fatigues. Amelia had worn a similar outfit of camouflage pants and a matching tank top. She even had her hair in a ponytail.
So different from the sister I lost nearly seven years ago, and yet, so much better for it. He loved this stronger, more confident version of Amelia.
“Can I cut in?” Thomas asked, right on cue.
“Of course.” Issac kissed his sister on the cheek. “Thank you for the dance, love. Good luck teaching Thomas the proper steps.”
“I know how to dance, Wakefield,” the former Sentinel replied, taking Amelia’s hip as Issac spun her into his waiting arms. “It was part of my high-society training. Just ask Lizzie.”
Issac’s lips twitched. “Then you should have no trouble keeping up with my sister.”
Thomas’s gaze narrowed. “Why does that sound like a challenge?”
“Because it is,” Amelia replied, grinning. “Let’s see what you can do.”
His blond brows lifted. “Oh, is that how this is going to go?”
“Intimidated?” she taunted.
He dipped her so low her head nearly hit the ground. “Not at all.”
Excitement shone bright in her gaze. “Arse.”
“Asset.”
Right. Time to leave.
Issac excused himself with a slight bow before going in search of the woman he wanted to dance with—preferably naked. She stood waiting by the door, her shoulder braced against the wall, arms folded, expression expectant.
“Ready?” she asked as he approached.
He tangled his fingers in her hair and pulled her to him, his lips brushing hers. “I should be asking you that question, love.”
A lovely flush crept into her cheeks. “Let’s go.”
He sent a visual image of their departure to Jayson, so that Elizabeth wouldn’t come looking for them later, and guided Astasiya toward the elevator with his hand against her lower back. Thankfully, the car that arrived for them was empty.
Twenty-three flights. Plenty of time.
He used his key card to select the floor they needed, then backed Astasiya up against the wall. Her green eyes flashed, sending a jolt of electricity through his veins.
“Don’t move,” he whispered, his hand circling her throat.
Trust stared back at him, something he required for this to go as he desired. He gently pressed his lips to hers, his senses firing. Ichorians could sense blood, especially that of a Hydraian, and while hers sang to him as it always had, he didn’t feel overwhelmed by it.
As an immortal, she healed quickly. Unless she’d bitten herself in the last several minutes, she posed no risk to him. And he’d smell the fresh blood if she had.
The true test.
A kiss.
He traced the seam of her mouth with his tongue, resulting in a gasp from her. Technically moving… He’d take that up with her afterward, because fuck, he needed this. Craved it above all else. He missed the intimacy; he missed her.
His grip tightened, his other hand going to her hip, holding her in place. He required the control in order to proceed with the next step.
Oh-so slowly, his tongue parted her lips and dipped inside to find hers. She didn’t move or reciprocate—her entire body frozen against his—as he explored her to his liking. The sound of the elevator’s arrival had him pulling back to find her staring up at him with unveiled arousal.
“Takes effort not to react, doesn’t it?” he asked softly, releasing her neck.
She swallowed. “Tell me I can do that to you.”
“We’ll see,” he murmured, linking his fingers with hers. “I want you naked first.”
Astasiya followed him into the hallway. “The feeling is very mutual.” The raspy quality of her voice appealed to his masculine pride.
He wrapped his arm around her, needing her close, and opened the door to their suite. His instincts dared him to take her against the door, while his mind urged caution. They had to proceed carefully, a challenge that fascinated him. Something different. Issac rather liked the prospect of that, even if it meant ignoring some of his natural urges.
“I’ll meet you in the bedroom,” he murmured, setting his key on the counter.
Excitement flared in her gorgeous eyes. “Okay.”
She toed off her heels, taking two steps before he added, “And, Aya?” She glanced over her shoulder. “Lose the dress.”
Embers flickered in her pupils. “Yes, sir.” She slid the gold chains from her shoulders, causing the fabric to fall to the floor around her. “Better?”
He ran his gaze over her as if seeing her for the first time. Perhaps because he hadn’t seen her naked since her rebirth. Too much temptation, and now he remembered why.
Flawless. Every inch of her. And she’d worn nothing beneath that dress all night.
Tease. “You’re gorgeous, love.”
A faint blush touched her cheeks at the praise. “I’ll be in the bedroom.” She turned and sauntered off, his gaze on her ass the whole way. He wanted to grab her and fuck her against the wall, which he couldn’t do.
I need a distraction.
Issac turned toward the cabinets and found the red wine he’d brought with him from Hydria. His original intentions of enjoying a few glasses with Astasiya melted into a new plan, one they would both thoroughly enjoy.
He uncorked the bottle, selected a single glass, and started toward the bedroom.
Right. His football boots had to go. As much as he enjoyed a good match, dressing as one of the players was not high on his repeat list. He kicked off the shoes—Astasiya would remove the rest.
She sat waiting for him on the bed, lounging in the pillows. Such a regal pose and well deserved. “Now you resemble Aphrodite,” he mused, pouring wine into the glass and setting the bottle on the nightstand beside her.
He took a sip while taking in every inch of her gorgeous form. Long legs, slender waist, shapely breasts, and virescent eyes. All mine.
“Come here.” He pulled more red wine into his mouth. She went onto her knees before him, her hands on his shoulders as he wrapped her long, blonde hair around his free hand. Now for some fun.
He pressed his lips to hers. She opened automatically, allowing him to pass the liquid into her mouth for a taste. Her groan of approval hit him right in the groin, but he was nowhere near done yet.
Issac angled her head and kissed her again, his tongue seeking hers. She met him halfway, her nails digging into his shoulders while he set the smooth pace. One wrong move, just the nick of his teeth, and everything would end. The danger of it added fuel to the effervescent flame between them, heightening the intensity of the act.
He set the glass aside to better hold her. She moaned against him, her body trembling beneath his touch.
Restraint—oh, what a beautiful, addictive sensation. More.
He nudged her onto her back, kneeling between her parted thighs, and bent to continue their kiss. Slow, tender, teasing, and unlike any embrace they’d previously shared.
Her hands went to his shorts, her eager fingers working the drawstring loose. He smiled against her mouth, wishing so badly he could bite her in reprimand.
“Take them off,” she said, her voice underlined with power.
“Aya,” he growled, complying. “Are you going to make me gag you, love?”
She raised a blonde brow, her lips curling. He didn’t understand until his jersey joined the pile on the ground. She’d truly come into her gifts these last few weeks, being able to persuade mentally and not just verbally. It set his soul on fire, stirring a depth of desire inside him only she could sate.
Mine.
“The socks can stay, if you want,” she said, her gaze roaming his chest and abs and pausing at his black boxer briefs. “Those—”
He silenced her with his mouth, his tongue more forceful than before, but not nearly as hard as he wanted. “Persuade me again and see what happens.” This game between them was one of his favorites. His groin ached with need as he settled between her thighs—the only barrier between them a thin layer of cotton. “You fancy yourself in charge, do you?” he asked, his lips barely touching hers.
Astasiya’s hands slid up his bare back, her hips bucking against his. “Fuck me, Issac.” This time her gift didn’t register, only a plea in her voice to move this along. So many weeks without each other had taken its toll on them both.
He pressed his forehead to hers. “We have to be careful.”
“I know.”
The trust required to truly do this spoke volumes about why they couldn’t stay away from each other, why they had to try this, why they had to find a way to make this work. He knelt again, pulling off his boxers and socks, and went onto all fours above her. “This won’t be like all the other times, Aya.”
She nodded. “Different isn’t bad.”
“Certainly not.” He nudged her thighs wider. “If anything, it’ll be a new experience.”
“I like new.”
“I do too.” He grabbed her hips, letting her think he meant to fulfill her wish. But she required a reminder in who dominated whom in this room. “Now try not to move.” He bent to take one stiff nipple into his mouth and gently nibbled.
She hissed his name, her muscles locking in place as he nipped her again. Not too hard, but enough for her to feel it and excite the risk between them.
“They say fear can be an aphrodisiac,” he whispered, switching breasts. “I think they might be right.” Another graze of his teeth against her skin elicited a sheen of sweat. “Is it hard staying absolutely still?” he asked her, taunting. “I imagine it takes great self-discipline.” He spoke against her stiff peak, stirring a moan from her throat.
Issac smiled, his lips running down her flat stomach to the alluring slickness waiting for him between her thighs. “Can I trust you, Aya?” he whispered against her damp folds. “Can you remain completely still?”
She shuddered, her hands fisted in the comforter. “Y-yes. Please.”
“Mmm.” He nuzzled her clit as a test. She didn’t shift or react, but a look at her face showed clear restraint. “Don’t bite that lip too hard, or I won’t be able to kiss you, love.”
“You’re killing me,” she said on a gasp. “Oh my God, I’m ready. Just fuck me.”
He chuckled, dipping his head to continue, this time with a lick that resulted in a near scream from her. Such a beautiful sound. He encouraged another with a deeper probe of his tongue and tightened his grip on her hips.
“Issac,” she whispered. “I c-can’t.”
“Can’t what, darling?” He sucked on her most sensitive point, not nearly as hard as he wanted but enough to garner a vocal reaction from her. Her limbs shook wildly on either side of him, her chest vibrating with a combination of determination and desire, and her expression was one of pleasure-pain. He recognized the limit and sat up slowly, knowing she would combust if he pushed her any further.
Too bad, really. It would have been a sight to behold.
“Please,” she begged. “Please, Issac.”
He bent her knees while keeping them spread wide and aligned his cock with her entrance. “Tell me if it’s too much,” he said, sliding into her wet heat. Her thighs squeezed him, a sound of approval falling from her lips. He went to his elbows on either side of her head, his gaze on her mouth. “Did you bite yourself?”
“No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “But I want to bite you.”
“I might enjoy that, Aya.” He kissed her far too softly for the moment, his soul requiring more. The need burned inside of him, creating a maelstrom of emotions mingled with fear. One wrong move… “Command me to stop if I start to lose myself.”
Her hands went to his face. “I will,” she vowed, holding his gaze. “Make love to me, Issac.”
“Always,” he brushed the word against her mouth.
“Always,” she repeated, completing him on a level no one had ever accessed.
She owned him completely. There would be no other, and he showed her that with his body. With every thrust, every kiss, every moan, he promised her that this was their beginning, not their end. Fate be damned, they would find a way to be together. They would solve all the puzzles, defy all expectations, and they would be together.
For there was no other option.
Astasiya was his forever.
Always.