Hair, the color of honey and gold hung in magnificent ringlets around her beautiful face. Azure blue eyes, accented by dark long lashes, crowned a perfect nose, leading to full sensuous lips. Lucian smacked his chops and reveled in how hard his cock became as he took in her beauty.
Charade was one of the most beautiful creatures he’d ever laid his eyes on and now she belonged to him, at least for a while. He mulled over her sentence, perhaps he’d keep her for a few hundred years, after that, the probability of getting bored with the whole thing would catch up to him. He would enjoy torturing Grayson. The hybrid was an anomaly, one he would enjoy fucking with, knowing he wanted Charade and had her. Foolish vampire, he thought, it’s not good to anger the devil or destroy one of his prominent army generals.
The fun had just begun. She’d even brought with her another plaything, a special human named Cross, a vampire slayer. Oh, the delight of it all.
Lucian was the devil, and he knew he was about to have one Hell of a party.
Yes, evil fun.
What other kind was there?
Satan broke out into riotous laughter, oh, how he loved ruling Hell.
He twisted the silver-coated chains that held Charade. “My, my, that silver coating doesn’t singe your beautiful skin just reddens it slightly. I’m a fucking genius.”
“Go fuck yourself!” she screamed.
“No, my pretty, that’s what you’re here for.” He pulled at the chains one more time. Her screams of pain echoed through the chamber.
“Do you miss him?” he asked.
“Oh come on, you miss, Grayson. However, when I stick my cock into you I will make you forget all about that hybrid bastard. That’s a promise.”
“I will destroy more of your sick little creatures if I ever get loose. You underestimate me, Lucian.”
“My lovely, I revel in sin, I wade in evil and I can drink blood as well as anyone one. Bring it on baby, bring it on.”
She let out a scream. Lucian laughed. The fun had just begun.
He knew from her body language that she was interested. When she turned in her chair to explain her current situation, her bare knee brushed his. He wanted to run his hand along her perfect knee letting it journey higher, but a gentleman refrains from such behavior. However, in bed, he was a far different man. Did she have the stamina he required? Could she submit to his every whim under the covers? She ran her tongue over her lower lip. Was that a promise of what was yet to come? Beware, his overheated brain screamed, ‘lady, you have no idea what I want from that devious little tongue.’ His desire hardened inside his trousers. Charles imagined her on her knees, his meat deep down her throat. His thoughts echoed, ‘Oh yes, my dear, the gentleman before you is a fraud.’
With one soft tap, he pondered the words she'd said to him the night of Tasha's murder. She'd call him Master, vowed her love for him. Now he was faced with nothing but defiance. He realized that during the day she faced life-threatening situations, she was a fucking cop, and that had become an issue for them both. Charles wanted her to get out, he had enough money to support the both of them and very comfortably. And, he did have his motives, he wanted them to live the lifestyle and draw up a contract, fulfilling her needs and his. The war of wills was wearing thin. It was time for him to seek outside help and that help was Harry Bass, a friend, and a Master he admired. A strong man always was ready to face his weaknesses and was always willing to work on them. Unfortunately, his love for Joy may have become his biggest flaw.