Abandoned to the Night (The Brotherhood 3)

Leo jumped out of the metal tub. “You’re lying,” he said ignoring his state of undress as he strode over to the bed. “What man of sound mind would want to live a life like this?”

Her amused gaze drifted over him, lingering on his chest, falling to the place no decent woman would dare to look. Desire still simmered inside. He knew it would not take much for his lust for pleasure to overwhelm him.

How could this be?

He wanted to drive his sword into her heart, drive his cock deep into her core.

“That is the point, Leo,” she said unperturbed by his angry countenance as she stood to face him. “You were not of sound mind. You were possessed by a need for carnal pleasures. Indeed, it is your weakness for the sins of the flesh that led me to you.”

She was speaking, but he was struggling to listen.

Despite his ire, he could not shake the erotic images of their coupling she’d infused into his mind. For some reason, they felt so real to him. The level of satisfaction he experienced at the moment of climax was like nothing he had ever felt with anyone else before.

Were they forgotten memories? Or was this just another form of cruel manipulation?

He was determined to find out.

“If what you say is true, if we were joined as you have shown me, then kiss me now. Let me feel the truth from your lips.”

Fear flashed in her bright blue eyes, and she swallowed visibly. “I … I can’t.”

Anger pushed to the fore, anger mixed with an odd sense of disappointment. He knew his request would reveal her to be a liar. “What?” he mocked. “We shared one passionate night and now—”

“Six nights,” she corrected.

Leo took a step back, her declaration dinting his usually impenetrable armour. Six nights? Two nights for every year as a monster was a heavy price to pay for pleasure.

“You kept me here for six nights?” he said incredulously. Six blasted nights and all he could recall was a flight of dusty stone steps?

“I did not keep you here.” She glanced at the floor but noting his cock was but a few inches away from her gown, her gaze shot back to meet his. “Yes. I may have manipulated your thoughts initially. When I first brought you here, my intention was to hurt you as you hurt others, to make you pay for all eternity. But I made a mistake. I should have dealt with the matter elsewhere.”

Leo recalled Elliot’s recount of the night the golden-haired devil turned him. “You mean you should have abused me in the graveyard, left me on the cold floor of a mausoleum.”

Her eyes grew wide, and she whispered, “You speak of Elliot?”

“Of course I speak of him. Why, have there been others?” The thought of an army of gentlemen imprisoned in tombs during daylight hours sent bolts of rage racing through him. He grabbed her by her upper arms and shook her. “How many more are there? How many? Tell me. How many men have you sunk your rotten teeth into?”

“Three,” she gasped. “There have only been three.”

At the sight of her fearful expression, something snapped inside him. He did not know why a sudden wave of sympathy swept over him or why the need to soothe her overtook all else. His gaze fell to her full lips, slightly parted as she panted for breath.

Hell and damnation! It was like there were two men inside him — one eager for revenge, the other desperate to bed her, to love her again.

A solitary tear trickled down her cheek. “You loved me once,” she whispered as though party to his thoughts. “You were kind and tender.”

“I don’t remember a blasted thing.” He pulled her closer to his needy body as only one thought consumed him. “But I intend to rectify that problem.”

Without another word, he claimed her lips. The kiss was rough, impatient, far from gentle. Within seconds, desire ignited in a powerful explosion of lust and longing. She clutched his shoulders; he gripped her soft buttocks as he rubbed against her. Their tongues became lost in each other’s mouths, their groans and pants audible proof of their uncontrollable passion.

Bloody hell!

No other woman had ever tasted as good. A fire burned inside him, a desperate urge to pound into her over and over again. All other thoughts became incoherent amidst the voice telling him to take her — right now. As the need grew more intense, his fangs burst out from their sheath. The sweet taste of her blood as the sharp points grazed the sensitive skin of her lips was like a potent aphrodisiac.

Damn. He was so hard he wanted to tear her gown from her luscious body, sink his teeth into her neck and drink the nectar of the gods.

Never in all his lascivious liaisons had he been able to express himself so freely. Even though he despised the monster within, the sheer strength emanating from him, the overwhelming sense of hunger tearing through his veins made the experience all the more pleasurable.

Was this what he had been searching for night after night when he wandered the ballrooms of the ton? Was the hope of rekindling a forgotten memory the real reason behind his constant search for satisfaction?