When he snarled and took her down beneath him, using the weight of the chains to help him, her arms and legs came around him, accepting. Her mind was in his mind, finding him in the dark red fury of his memories.

Tearing into her shoulder like an animal, he growled his hunger, his heart jackhammering, his punctured soul riddled by wounds that would never heal. The strength of Lyssa’s arms increased, holding him. Holding him together.

She wouldn’t stop screaming. I couldn’t get to her, and she wouldn’t stop screaming. She’ ll never stop screaming . . .

He’d given Jessica the memory in his mind. From her strained expression, he’d probably given her too much. “After I fed from her, I ran, and those first few weeks you know about. But she came back after me when I was in my tenth year of mourning. Or maybe it was my twentieth. I lost track of so much time then. She told me that Farida would be ashamed of me, that she’d obviously chosen her Master poorly, if being a drunken, useless disgrace was how I intended to honor her memory.” Jessica winced. “She’s not the nurturing type, is she?”

“Lady Lyssa, nurturing?” Now at last, she saw a glimmer of a true smile on his face, and it eased her own heart. “I’ll let you ask that question of Jacob, her mate and servant, when they arrive. They’re two of the vampires coming to visit me.” 040

He was watching her closely. Despite the ground they had covered tonight, that familiar cold ball of fear flopped in her belly. But she pushed it down. “I don’t understand. Jacob is a vampire, but he’s also her servant, and her . . . mate?”

“It’s complicated. Lyssa had to save Jacob’s life by turning him, when he was her human servant. It violated Council law. Plus, after she turned him, she unintentionally transferred most of her vampire abilities to him. She’s still part vampire by blood, but what power she has left is Fey. I’d tell you that made her less terrifying,” he added dryly, “but I think she still terrifies almost everyone.”

“What happened all those years ago, when she told you that you were a disgrace?”

“Oh, she nearly killed me.” At Jessica’s startled look, a wry look crossed his face. “Being drunk and angry, I challenged her. I got my ass kicked. Badly. Though I was drunk.”

Jessica blinked. Yet again, she was learning that there was far more to vampires than she ever knew. “I would have liked to see that, my lord.”

“I’m sure, habiba.” His lips tugged. “Maybe you can ask her to challenge me to a rematch when she’s here and I can attempt to regain my manly pride.”

“Or lose it forever.”

“Your confidence in me is overwhelming.”

“Is that when you started helping . . . your harem?”

The brief flash of puzzlement in his eyes vanished, replaced by exasperation. “I am going to beat that woman. But yes. Again, that was Lyssa’s doing. She got me started, giving me the name of one particular organization, and it went from there. She was right. It was a better way to honor Farida’s memory, and still is.”

When he turned toward her, she sensed the slightest of hesitations, as if he was uncertain of her reception of him, but then she lifted her chin and his hand cupped her face, a natural coming together. However, his eyes remained serious, watchful.

You worry needlessly, habiba . I will not allow you to be afraid. You have seen me with Amara and Enrique, and learned to fear that less. This will show you how it is meant to be with vampires and their servants in a group.

She didn’t want to delve into that statement too deeply right now. “Have you and Lyssa . . . ?” No, that question was equally fraught with peril, for her at least. Vampires being highly sexual creatures, she was certain that his relationship with Lyssa had been intimate, might still be. No matter how Mason viewed her, he would never see anything inappropriate about engaging in a relationship with a vampire female while maintaining a close bond with a human servant. After all, Amara and Enrique were married.

She bit her lip. He’d warned her about leaning on her fantasies of Farida, but now she wondered if Farida had sensed the danger of having to be part of his world as well. He shows little interest in bringing me into that world. Though I wonder about it, right now all I want is to be with him, every waking breath.

Was this really the life she wanted to live? Sharing him with others? Would Farida have wanted that life? Regardless of her feelings about him, whether true or distorted by her experiences, Jessica couldn’t discount the importance of that serum, what it could offer her.

Mason’s reaction didn’t suggest otherwise. She could tell he’d tuned in to her thoughts, but he chose not to answer her charged, unspoken question, lifting her palm to his mouth again. He wouldn’t lie to her, even now. And while she appreciated it, a stab of pain went through her. Still, her body didn’t care, swaying inward to press against him, overriding her unease . . . for now, at least.

“Mason . . .” Her breath left her as he moved to her pulse, worked it between his lips, teasing her with his tongue, the brush of a fang. His other arm slipped around her waist, his hand sliding lower, cupping her buttock through the thin dress.

After the stark images of past pain and regret, violence and vengeance, not to mention the revelations of a future decision she needed to make, she should be putting on the brakes, taking a few moments. Until now, she’d relied on him to set those limitations.

All the times she’d been eager to take it past this point, he’d been the one who walked away.

“I told you I want you beneath me, Jessica. In my bed.” He spoke against her skin. When he lifted his head, it was only to take command of her mouth before she could reply. He moved his hand to her face, held it still as he traced her lips with his tongue, then delved between, teasing her some more. When he pulled back, his amber eyes remained close, holding her mesmerized as he spoke to her heart.

If you decide to go, you will have no memory of me. So I will tell you this. I do consider you mine. I will watch over you forever, make sure you are safe, even when you know nothing of me. And I will not eviscerate the men you choose to love.

Unless they deserve it.

“And if I decide to stay?” The words came out breathless as he moved to her throat. Her fingers dug into his shoulders when he scraped her with his fangs. He lifted his head again and this time when he brought his lips onto hers, she kissed back, shyly trying to tangle with his tongue until he took over, plunging deep, penetrating, his hand on her buttock tightening, winning a mewl of desire that stoked the flame in his eyes.

Apparently wanting to move faster than her legs could manage, he swung her up in his arms. When she opened her eyes, after a rush of motion, they were at the base of the verandah steps.

“If you decide to stay, habiba,” he responded, “then I will claim you as mine. My human servant, no longer in name only, not just for your protection.” The torchlight flickered over the ruthlessly handsome features, his sensual mouth. “There are no half measures to that, Jessica. You know this. But if that is the decision you ultimately make, I will help you learn to trust, so that you do not fear to obey me, accept me as your Master, even when we are in the company of other vampires.” She stared up at his perfect face. “For tonight, I know I want to be yours, and believe in the fantasy that you’re only mine. I want to trust you. Please don’t stop this time.”

He’d put her on a step two levels above him, so she trembled as his heated gaze passed over the rapid rise and fall of her breasts, the close hold of the gauze dress over her nipples, the transparency of the skirt with the torchlight behind her. He opened his mind, showing her how he wanted to peel it off her body, showing her the things he wanted to do to her.

He wanted to turn her onto her hands and knees on the stairs, take her there, her fingers digging into the marble, her cries rising above the ocean’s distant murmur. He would turn her over after her climax, keep her stretched out on the stairs while he went to work on her with his mouth, rousing her again. He’d take her down to the shore, lie with her there. And then in the stables, in the fragrant hay, hearing Coman’s sharp whinny at the scent of their arousal.

His gaze holding her in a sensual paralysis, Mason imagined her even in that frightening dungeon room, only he showed her in great detail how he would ensure she had climax after climax, devoid of fear. He would cuff her legs to the adjustable standing rod anchored in the floor. The top would be fitted with a phallus of impressive size, and he would slowly impale her on it. Her wrists would be anchored to her thighs, increasing her helplessness. When her arousal was flowing down her thighs, he’d apply a soft flogger to her breasts, teasing the nipples to hardness so she’d scream with pleasure when he kissed them. He would tease her cleft with his fingers, make her come when he turned on the phallus’s vibration.

Her breath was short, caught between fear of the past, anticipation of the future, and frozen over what the present meant. But she couldn’t deny his images stirred her. When his mind moved into the dining room, her lips curved, though it was an effort, her body shaking so hard already. “You’re going to go room to room, my lord? You might exhaust me.”

“Then I’ll let you sleep in my arms whenever you tire, feed you from my throat to replenish you before I take you again. I will take you so often that your legs will open to me even in your sleep, knowing your Master and obeying him even in your dreams.” He gazed at her intently, his body emanating that still power that vampires did so well, right before they attacked in some manner.

“Come here, habiba.”

She cocked her head. “Catch me,” she whispered, and bolted.

He could have caught her in a second, of course, but he let her run, indulge in the childish play that was anything but childlike. He cornered her on the verandah, then let her slip past, though he deftly snagged the thin strap of the dress so it tore, and she had to press her hand against the bodice to keep it in place as she sprinted onward. Back into the house, him in hot pursuit. The study.