Lowering his head to hers, he spoke in a velvety growl, his lips nearly brushing hers with each illicit word. “I mean to have my cock inside you, my name rolling off your tongue on a pleasured scream. But I will accept your submission through free will and nothing less.”
He kissed her then, just the lightest, teasing nip at her mouth, and she nearly combusted where she stood. Desire flooded her body and limbs. Her pulse galloped, and everything female in her arced toward him for more. More contact. More heat. More inflaming promises of what he wanted to do with her.
Oh, God. She was doomed.
She closed her eyes, wishing for a deeper kiss even as her survival instincts howled in alarm.
Sorin’s breath gusted against her on a low curse. His hand went around to her nape, guiding her deeper into his embrace, deeper into his consuming heat. Then his mouth came down on hers, gently this time. Reverently.
Ashayla couldn’t think.
She couldn’t summon even a shred of resistance…
Until she realized they weren’t alone in the room anymore. Someone cleared his throat behind them near the open double doors.
Sorin tore his mouth away from hers on a snarl. “What is it?”
A handsome, elegantly suited Incubus with short golden hair and breathtaking features not unlike Sorin’s stood in the doorway. Ashayla recognized him as one of the people gathered in the salon when she and Sorin walked past a short while ago. He took his time looking at her now, his expression curious, questioning. Friendlier than Sorin’s could ever be.
“Radu,” Sorin acknowledged. All the passion of a moment ago was instantly replaced with a different kind of tension now. “Has there been any change in him, brother?”
The other male gave a grim nod. “He’s awake. He’s pissed as hell.” Dread and weariness edged his voice. “He’s calling for you, Sorin.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Sorin raked a hand through his hair and blew out a sharp sigh.
He couldn’t ignore the unpleasantness that awaited him elsewhere in the family stronghold, but he didn’t have time to stow his pretty guest somewhere while he took care of the problem.
He sure as hell wasn’t about to leave Ashayla with his charming, better looking younger brother. Radu was already having a hard enough time taking his eyes off the stunning blond Nephilim. While Sorin was arguably not the most suitable protector of her virtue, he’d be damned before he let his shameless sibling get within arm’s length of her.
“I’ll handle it.” He took Asha’s hand in his, and on a muttered curse swept past Radu with her in tow. “Tell Milo to meet me outside the chamber.”
Asha’s long-legged stride kept up with Sorin easily, but he could feel her confusion in every step they took together. “What’s going on?”
He doubted she’d really wish to know. He could only imagine what was going on in the chamber where they were heading. They had barely turned the corner of the long corridor that led to the private cell when a tremendous, animalistic howl shook the floor beneath their feet.
Ashayla startled, throwing him a wild glance. “What was that?”
“My father.”
She didn’t ask anything more, not even when another furious roar erupted from within the closed chamber. Sorin brought her to a halt outside the barred door and turned to face her stricken expression. Milo arrived at that same moment, the captain of the Watchmen giving Sorin a knowing nod as another crazed shout went up, followed by the crash of something shattering against the floor.
“Take her to my quarters. Wait with her there,” he instructed the guard. To Asha he said, “You’ll be safe with Milo. He’ll look after you until I’m through here.”
“Um, okay.” She seemed to consider for a moment. Then she stunned him by reaching out to place her hand on his forearm. Her light touch was tender, halting. “What about you, Sorin?”
“What about me?” He scowled as a litany of foul curses sounded on the other side of the heavy door.
“Will you be safe in there?”
Her question took him aback completely. He stroked the side of her face.
No one ever worried for him. He was a formidable male. A powerful Incubus, the Master of his House. The eldest son, he’d been the one expected to shoulder every responsibility and problem without hesitation or failure.
So he had, all his life. Never questioning his role. Never requiring accolades or soft reassurances.
And yet here was this woman who’d been little more than a name on paper to him until tonight—a beautiful, courageous woman whom he’d given little cause to care what might happen to him—looking at him now with genuine concern.
He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and kiss her just then. Hell, he wanted to do a lot more than that. And he would, as promised, before the night was over.
But right now his duty called him to deal with the bitter old demon imprisoned in the room behind him.