Page 14 of Immortal Burden

“You could’ve approached me about this at the Guardian Compound. You could’ve contacted me in so many ways that wouldn’t have necessitated you coming here in person just to ask me about my involvement with the sorceress.”

“This was more direct.”

“Untrue.” I fisted my hand in the back of his hair and tugged, making him grunt. “Our last encounter, you were sitting up at my bar down on the floor of the club drinking yourself into a stupor days after your relationship with Mia had ended. Tell me, what happened next?”

“You got word that I was here and came down to sit with me.”

I tugged at his hair, wrenching his head back further, forcing eye contact. “And then?”

“I was drunk.”

“A time when your inhibitions were lowered, cutting a path through your intense level of repression and the denial of your true desires.”

He grabbed my hand in his hair, digging his nails into my skin. Or, at least trying to. It took a lot more effort and pressure than that to cause any damage—even a blemish—to an Ancient’s skin. “Let go.”

“Answer me. Tell me what happened. I want to hear you say it. You need to hear yourself say it.”

He grimaced, fighting himself as he so often did.

“Fuck, Lucian. I kissed you, okay? I fucking well kissed you!” He bucked against me. “Are you satisfied now?”

“Not even close,” I breathed at his ear. “I didn’t reciprocate that night because you were intoxicated and you were in pieces. The former isn’t true now courtesy of that elixir. But the latter may always be unless you take a step forward and let go of what was with her and, instead, focus on what could be beyond that.”

He gritted his teeth and looked away—as much as he could with me holding him in place—before slapping his free hand to the wall in front of him. Grunting and growling in both pain and frustration, the inhibitor flickered into being again, the lights in my office fading in and out, his worked up state forcing forth an expulsion of magical energy that couldn’t find release with Polaris’ anti-magic wards in effect. It shouldn’t have been possible to even muster any sort of impact at all, demonstrating how truly potent his power actually was.

I released my painful grip pulling at his roots and stroked his hair softly. “If you truly wish to leave, I will stand aside.” I trailed my fingers down to his ear, his cheek, lingering over his throat and his deliciously jumping pulse. “Just say the words and deny me.”

I smiled to myself when he didn’t utter a word and, instead, he dropped his palm from the wall, his magic and being alike calming.

I leaned in closer, pressing him tighter against the wall, my lips brushing the side of his neck with a feather-light pressure. “Your pulse races like a freight train with my every slight touch.” I traced the waistband of his pants, then swept my fingers over his deliciously hard shaft ever so briefly. His breath hitched, his body coiling tight with a tension he clearly yearned to have sated. “You wish to experience me, sorcerer.”

He turned his head, his gaze smoldering, working his throat as anticipation and apprehension warred for top billing.

And then he finally spoke the words I’d coveted for years. “I’ll stay a while.”

Snarling, I jerked down his pants and boxers to his knees.

I licked my lips, salivating at the sight of his straining erection. Long, thick, and needy. I grinned at the sight of two golden studs protruding from the head.

As I shoved him tighter against the wall, his forehead pressed right up against it, he instinctively went to reach for his boxers and pants that were currently functioning as makeshift binds. He wanted them the rest of the way off, the restriction gone.

I don’t think so.

I delivered a sharp slap to his left ass cheek, causing him to jolt against the wall. “Leave them.”

Satisfied when he remained still, I retrieved my drink and placed it on the arm of the couch beside our position against the wall.

Dipping my fingers into my scotch and swirling them around, I then swept the saturated digits from the underside of his balls, to the edge of his asshole. Back and forth.

He trembled under my ministrations.

I gathered more liquid and spread it down the length of his proud cock, smothering the bulbous mushroom head, then coating his shaft, down to his balls.

He groaned and turned his head, his lips brushing my cheek.

With my free hand, I fisted his hair, forcefully angling his head, guiding his mouth to mine.

His cock jerked in my loose grip, enjoying my slight show of dominance.

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