But when she pushed him back, his broad back curved, his palms bracing himself on the floor between her sexy stilettos as he worked himself beneath her snug skirt, into the dark fragrant val ey between her shapely thighs. She threw her head back, sable hair fanning out over the fabric of the chair. As he obviously made contact, burying his face in her pussy, the sounds of licking and suckling her reached Jacob’s ears. It made him want to do like Vincent, wrap his hand around the fucking tree branch of his erection, give the aching some relief, but he’d hold out forever if it meant his lady would do it instead.

  To al appearances cool and remote, she emitted that molten heat beneath, those jade eyes fastened on his. When he reached her, he swept his gaze down before he dropped to a knee before her in the winged-back chair. “How may I serve your pleasure, my lady?”

  “You wil serve it in our chambers. Fol ow me.” They left the atrium, passing out of sight of those left behind, though it probably little mattered, since they were involved in their own pleasure. Once they made that first corner, Jacob caught her arm, whipped her around and pressed her hard to the wal , devouring her mouth with his own. Her arms slid around him, her hips lifting to push against his. Since he was naked, she was rubbing herself against his bare cock, but the beaded fabric of her skirt was a rough and frustrating barrier. It was al part of the pleasurable cruelty, and he dragged it out, giving her every bit of his need in that kiss, feeling the dampness of her cunt through the cloth, the stiffness of her nipples, the strong clutch of her arms, al that bountiful hair tangling over his fingers. One heel dug hard into the back of his calf, her nails scoring his back.

  Put me down, Jacob, and follow me to our room.

  He did, and saw her eyes were fierce, wild, her mouth wet with his. She led the way, the sway of her hips driving him insane, so that he dared the insolence of cupping one silk-clad buttock. She sent him a warning look beneath those mink lashes, but it was pure tease now, a predator al owing the prey to toy with her. He was fine with that, because he sensed her mood, what she needed, wanted, and it matched his mood perfectly.

  When they got into the room, he attacked again, sliding an arm around her waist and another under her legs, lifting her off her feet. She twisted free and, in a flash, had shoved him hard against the wal , face-first, his cock mashed uncomfortably against the rough stone.

  “Who do you serve, Jacob?”

  “You, my lady. Always you.” Her fingers teased his rim, and he fought her, to no avail. Her strength was at peak form, and he no longer had the ability to overpower her. So he strangled on a curse as those sharp nailed fingers slowly glided down his rectum.

  “No . . . I don’t want to come that way.”

  “But whose wishes matter? Have you forgotten?”

  “Yours, my lady. But let me fuck you. Let me spil my seed inside your cunt.”

  “Such language.” She pressed up behind him, letting him feel every curve as those fingers continued to play. She scraped her fangs over his mark. “Though you might be the alpha servant now, you stil answer to your Mistress.”

  “Always. My lady.” He closed his eyes tight, muscles straining against the stone.

  “Then why are you stil fighting me?”

  “Because tonight you want me to fight.” She chuckled then, a sultry sound. “Clever, clever knight.”

  Suddenly, she released him. When he turned, she was ten steps away, in the center of the chamber.

  The look in her eyes stil ed him, made the chamber itself seem suddenly quiet, the air fil ed with a sense of silent expectation. “Perhaps it is the Crusades again.” Her voice was a whisper. “You are part of an invading army. You are merely a foot soldier, a poor knight. Yet you breach the wal s of the sultana, and for the next few moments, she is al yours, before your generals or kings find her. For this moment, she is your treasure.”

  The dress molded every curve, and it made his mouth dry, but he saw the tenor of it change in her mind. Her fantasy merged with the reality from long ago. “There you stand,” she continued softly. “Dusty, bloody. Sir Knight. And my heart opens in a way I didn’t know it could.”

  He swal owed, but instead of taking her to that other time, he brought her back to her fantasy. “The sultana is perfect, disdainful of me,” he said, in the same low voice. “But as I look at her, I see her tremble, just a bit. I watch her press her lips together, moist, and I know she could be mine. If only I reach out to take.”

  Her mouth curved. Power emanated from her.

  Every inch his queen. He moved forward. When he reached her, he dropped to his knees, looking up at her face for a long moment from that reverent position. The slope of her abdomen, rise of her breasts, the line of her hip and thigh, so close. He’d been with her when she’d given birth to Kane, had seen those thighs tremble, her stomach contract, her throat arch back in a cry of pain but of determination as wel .

  Bending forward, he brought his lips to her insole, her ankle. When she shifted, he was ready. The foot that would have planted itself on his chest and shoved him back slid under his left arm. He caught it there, tugged the other one out from under her. When she fel to her back, trusting, he used a servant’s speed. Her skul fel into his waiting palm, his body stretched over hers, one knee between her thighs.

  Lifting her chin, she regarded him with sparkling eyes. “Clever knight,” she repeated.

  “I have no cleverness left. Only need. I want to use you, and use you hard. Then I want to build you back up again and make you scream. I want your tears, your laughter. I want the softness in your eyes as wel as the violence.”

  “I wil come before you do, Sir Vagabond,” she said in a near whisper, looking up at him. “Because I can hardly bear another moment without you inside of me. Your sultana is helpless beneath you. For the moment.” Her eyes consumed him. “Do your worst.

  Or best, as the case may be.”

  He knew how much the dress cost. He didn’t care.

  He tore it to tatters on her body, exposing breasts in one impatient rip, letting them spil out for his hungry attack, tongue and teeth moving over them. Cradling her hips, he tilted her up, lifting his upper body enough that he could gaze down at her as if she was a prize he’d conquered in truth. Then, when her lips parted, he drove into her.

  Sheer, utter bliss. No one knew the power of denial the way a vampire did. Everything he’d done tonight at her behest had been about this. She had her arms above her head, mock surrender, though he knew he was the true slave here. He thrust deep, and forced himself to the rhythm he knew would take her with him, no matter that he wanted to rut upon her like a beast. She arched up to him, her pupils dilating so the green was almost gone.

  She was true to her word. No more than a dozen thrusts, and she rippled around him. Her fangs elongated, and the cries in her throat became that helpless little symphony as she squeezed around his

  cock.

  “Let go, my lady,” he urged in a hoarse voice.

  “Give me that gift. Let me hear your pleasure.” You with me, Jacob. You come with me.

  He could refuse her nothing. They went over that cliff together, and at the pinnacle of it, she reared up and sank her fangs into his chest, just above his heart. They were of one mind, a pair of winged creatures fal ing into pleasurable oblivion tangled together.

  And the way they felt for one another, they’d let the ground break them before they let go.

  Once they’d ravished each other to exhaustion, his lady wanted two things: her son, and a cup of tea, in that order. Had it not been for those desires, Jacob knew she would have chained him to the wheel rack, a standard amenity in Belizar’s old chambers. The way her gaze lingered on it overlong, told him her desires clearly enough. Sometimes he didn’t need to be in her mind to read her thoughts.

  The first night they’d met, Lyssa had chained him, giving him an unforgettable lesson in accepting submission. He’d changed a bit since then, the idea of her putting him on the device and making him wait on her pleasure making him more aroused than apprehensive. But perhaps she’d changed as wel , since she ruled in favor of Kane and her tea. Either path would bring her pleasure, so both worked for him. And knowing his lady’s diabolical mind, she’d probably mapped out a later time for the wheel rack.

  Jacob found Kane up on the castle wal s, with Daegan. The assassin was holding the toddler on his shoulders and jumping the wide spaces between parapets, making him think they were flying. Kane was delighted, whereas Jacob hoped Lyssa never saw it in his mind or she might decide to beat the assassin to a pulp. He gave Daegan his thanks. The vampire touched the boy’s head fondly, nodded to Jacob, and then was gone, probably moving swiftly to join Anwyn and Gideon, to make good on the erotic threat he’d issued earlier. Given that it involved his brother being naked and at the mercy of two Dominant vampires, Jacob banished that visual from his mind pretty quick.

  Instead, he hugged the boy tight, rubbing his back, inhaling his baby vampire smel and enjoying the smal hands on his neck. The boy’s cheek pil owed against his shoulder as Kane settled down and started feeling the exhaustion that came with being the center of attention for the past few hours.

  Delivering the toddler to his sleepy lady for a feeding, Jacob headed for the kitchen. The sooner he brought back the tea, the sooner he could enjoy the domestic bliss of being in bed, dozing with and holding the two people he loved best.

  He was surprised to find Mason already there. The male vampire wore a dark robe loosely tied so his chest was exposed, his long hair tied back carelessly to keep it out of his way. He didn’t turn as Jacob entered, but Jacob knew he’d heard him approaching the moment his feet turned down the corridor to the kitchen.

  Smel ing the aroma of rich hot chocolate, he saw Mason drop a handful of marshmal ows into the mug.

  “You know, I’ve heard that chocolate depletes male virility.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Is she okay?”

  Mason locked gazes with him. As the silence drew out, Jacob was keenly reminded that, while he considered Mason a friend, he was stil a vampire.

  Lyssa had warned him countless times that humans should never forget that. His brother had told him the same thing. He understood that. But, as Dev might say, he wasn’t a wuss, either. He wasn’t going to dance around this.

  “If you want to take a piece out of me for it, take a piece out of me,” he said. “But she held together tonight. She’s a fucking incredible woman, and she loves you enough to do anything to stay by your side.

  That’s what we do. That’s what being a servant is about. And she knows it.”

  Mason continued to study him with that dispassionate expression that could hide a variety of things, including whether or not he was considering breaking Jacob in half like a pencil. At length, he turned back to the chocolate. “The hot chocolate is for her. And no, I didn’t care to bother a house servant to make it for me. It’s been a long and exciting night for everyone.” He paused. “It helps with nightmares. She did wel tonight, but this has been difficult for her. Her sleep has not been easy. There is such a thing as too much courage, and loving someone past the point of good sense. Past the point they deserve.”

  Jacob’s jaw tightened. “Singing helps my lady,” he ventured after a pause.

  Mason turned around, his brow lifting in surprise.

  “Lyssa has nightmares?”

  “How can you see al she’s seen, and not have them occasional y?”

  Mason acknowledged the truth of that with a grunt.

  “I haven’t tried singing. I have a passable voice.”

  “Doesn’t matter if you’re off key or not. It’s your voice that makes the difference. It even works when she’s asleep and just starting to get restless. I learned that with Kane. If you start singing when you see the signs, it’l sometimes work without waking her up.”

  It was an odd moment, sharing common ideas for soothing the women they loved. For Jacob, it was his Mistress, the woman who owned his very soul; for Mason, it was the woman whose soul he owned, who belonged to him utterly. But in the end, Jacob knew it was al the same.

  As if reading his mind, Mason gave a faint smile, lifted the cup. “Good morning to you, then.” As he

  reached the door, he stopped, looked back at Jacob. “What Lyssa did yesterday—it gave me a few bad moments, her and Jessica both in the line of fire, but it was needed. She has my ful support, unquestioning.”

  “I don’t think she’d ever doubt it, but good to hear it out loud. And congratulations on the baby, my lord.

  She and Kane can grow up together.”

  “If Al ah be merciful,” the male said. “But Al ah preserve me if it’s a girl.”

  Jacob grinned. “I’m sure Kane wil watch out for her.”

  “That’s what concerns me.” A quick flash of fangs, and then Mason disappeared down the hal way.

  A smile stil playing on his lips, Jacob downed the glass of ice-cold water he’d been seeking for himself, then prepared a chamomile tea for his Mistress. Shutting off the kitchen lights, he headed back to his own favorite female, knowing there was no where else he’d rather be.

  Lyssa had taken Kane out of his crib and lay with him on the bed. She wore a loose robe, and the toddler had pushed aside the silk impatiently to nurse, giving Jacob a pleasurable view of her breast.

  When Lyssa reached out to him, Jacob came to the bed. Sitting with his back against the headboard, he slid his lady and son in the space between his bent legs, holding them both.

  After he placed the tea on the side table, she pressed her cheek into his heated palm. Catching her fingers in the waistband of the jeans he’d pul ed on, she teased the muscle there while he stroked her wrist, feeling the steady thud of her pulse.

  He shared Mason’s message with her, and she nodded, thoughtful. “You remember what I said a while ago, that I don’t want Kane to have to face the chal enges we have?”

  Jacob made an assenting noise. Kane was just mouthing her now, and Jacob reached down, caught a drop of blood and painted it on the smal mouth.

  Kane made a satisfied noise, his eyelids heavy and almost closed. “I’m not sure we should remove al the chal enges for vampire-servant relationships,” she said. “If we do, I think it would be a disservice to vampires and servants in the long run. This relationship shouldn’t be easy. I think there are some obstacles that exist because they are the purpose, in a sense. The journey we’ve taken, the things we’ve learned about each other . . .”

  She looked up at him. “If it had been easy, I’m not sure either of us would have understood it the same way. We will have harsher laws to deal with things like what happened to Jessica, but the intention of vampires and servants, the shape of their relationship, I think it essential y needs to stay the same. Do you disagree? Your counsel on this matters to me, Jacob.”

  He stroked her hair, thinking for long moments under the weight of her soft gaze. Truth, when this journey had started, he’d almost left her a couple times, not sure if he could handle a vampire’s ruthless nature, particularly one a thousand years old and dealing with al the politics she handled. But he couldn’t deny the truth of her words. It was in everything he’d seen, not only in himself but in those around him. Jessica, Dev, Vincent . . . even Gideon.

  It was like they were part of a train, and once that connection was set, the lock was true, no matter how the train raced toward an unknown destiny.

  Vampires and servants, there was a balance there. It needed to be the way it was. The wisdom that had driven the decisions over the century had proven it. Yet he was certain, with her hand at the helm, there would be more room for relationships like theirs to grow. And as Brian had said, that would ultimately save the vampire race, keep it from extinction.

  Looking down at his son’s smal skul , he laid his own hand over hers upon it. When she tilted her face to his, he gave her his answer in a kiss.

  And in that heated, lingering connection, in the energy he felt between them, he was even more certain such relationships wouldn’t merely survive—

  they would thrive, for centuries to come.

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