Harlequin Nocturne March 2016 Box Set Read online

  “Every raid I’ve made, every world I’ve plundered, every bit of treasure I have ever brought to you is a measure of my devotion.” He has not yet kissed her mouth, but oh, how she longs for him there.

  As she has always done, the regent thinks as she pushes her scout away and walks to the window to look outside at the night. Since she was old enough to understand desire, she has wanted this man. Never admitting it, never allowing herself to believe he could be hers. Because of course he cannot be.

  At least not for longer than this single night. Turning, she loosens the ties at the front of her gown and allows it to fall away. Naked, she draws in a breath, lifting her chin, refusing to let herself look away from his face.

  “You are beautiful,” her scout says, and in that moment, the regent has no doubt that she is.

  He’s across the room in the time it takes for her to breathe in and out. Then at last he is kissing her, mouth on mouth. Her gasp draws him into her. His tongue strokes hers.

  The marble windowsill is cool on her bare skin as he pushes her back to sit, her thighs parted. He kneels between them. With a reverent sound of worship, her scout kisses her again. Not her mouth this time. The pleasure of it, the heat and warmth of his lips against her most private flesh, tips her head back so the fall of her hair tickles her back.

  His mouth moves on her. Tongue stroking. Lips tugging the tender pearl of her body, until she cannot stop herself from crying out. When his fingers slide inside her, stretching, she is sent shuddering over the edge.

  Without time for the pleasure to fade, her scout stands. He’s pulled himself free of his trousers and is inside her, so deep the sweet sting of his entry sends another shiver of pleasure through her. Her body clutches him; he groans, thrusting, lifting her legs to wrap around his lean hips.

  He kisses her again, harder this time. There’s the tangy taste of blood on her tongue, and she loves it, she loves him, she is toppling again into the maelstrom of desire. No holding back.

  They might have only this one night, this one time, but it will have to be enough to last for the rest of her life.

  * * *

  Sweet feminine flavor flooded Jase’s tongue. He groaned aloud, blinking into the darkness as his orgasm rushed through him. He came so hard he bit his tongue, tasting blood. Shuddering, he let his stroking hand slow until, panting, he let it rest on the sticky heat puddling on his belly.

  “Fuck,” he whispered aloud. “What the...”

  Still blinking, he shook himself and pushed up on one elbow. He’d been back in the dream, only this time, he’d been awake, he was sure of it. He’d been between her legs, lapping her sweetness, making her come. Even now, the memory made his cock twitch, though he was nowhere near capable of getting hard again, not after that explosion.

  Something glittered in the air around him.

  He sat up so fast his head spun. The edges of his vision sparkled, sort of like if he’d pressed his thumbs to his closed eyelids. Only, this faded and renewed when he tried to focus. Jase hopped out of bed, grabbing a stray T-shirt and swiping at his belly as he did. His black-light wand was in his bag, and he fumbled for it as the glittering lights faded again.

  He flashed it around the room and let out a long, slow breath of wonder. The entire room lit up like the night sky. The glow faded even as he watched, leaving behind a few traces here and there, identical to what he and Reg had found on the gorilla guy’s front porch.

  Shit.

  Whatever had happened to those other guys had just happened to him.

  CHAPTER 6

  With a short, sharp breath, Chelle lifted her fingers from the keys. Blinking, she sipped in another breath, this one slower. Every part of her still pulsed from the pleasure that had rocked through her while she wrote.

  Whoa.

  It usually felt good to write...but it had never felt that good. Yes, she’d been turned on in the past by something she’d written, but never to the point of an actual orgasm. Chelle sat back in her chair. The first hint of sunlight had started pinking the window over her kitchen sink. She’d been writing for hours. Pages of words...not a full story, but definitely the good start to one, she thought with a rueful shake of her head. Way better than that stupid one about the giant gorilla.

  Making sure to save her file, Chelle stared at her computer screen for a few more seconds. GOLEM was more than a word processing program. Grant had designed it as a true writer’s dream. She took the time to type a few notes for future plot points. Then she saved again and closed her laptop.

  On still-trembling legs, she went to the sink to get herself another glass of water. This one she gulped down, refilled and drank again. She should’ve been exhausted, but every nerve still jangled. She’d never get to sleep.

  Still, she had to try. Not having a day job to go to had to be good for something, even if it meant working all night and sleeping until noon. She took a hot shower first, letting the water beat away some of the stress and tension she still carried with her from being hit by the bike and from the hours she’d spent hunched over the computer.

  Cupping her breasts, she let her thumbs pass over her still-sensitive nipples. They tightened at once, and there was an answering pull of arousal between her legs. Chelle laughed a little and tipped her face into the shower’s spray, taking in a mouthful of water she spit out in a stream in an attempt at getting her mind off the slickness in her pussy.

  She’d had an orgasm while writing.

  She wanted to have another one now.

  She was no stranger to self-pleasure—that was part of not having a lover, taking care of her own needs. Lately it had seemed her self-gratification had become fairly utilitarian, though. Fast, steady, she got off within minutes as a way to ease the buildup of arousal, though she hadn’t found herself particularly turned on. When you were bored fucking yourself, she thought as she turned to let the hot water pound her back, that was bad.

  She was turned on now, though. The story. It had filled her head as if she were watching a movie. She’d been immersed. The words, flowing the way her blood pumped now, swift and fierce.

  Chelle let out a small groan as she slipped a hand between her legs to stroke her clit. Despite the water from the showerhead, she still found herself so wet that her fingers slipped easily against her folds. Then inside. One, then two. She put her other hand on the shower wall to keep herself steady as she fucked into herself, slowly. Her thumb pressed her clit.

  God, it felt good.

  How long had it been since she’d really felt this way? Months? Shit, had it been years?

  Nipples tight, pussy clenching, breath coming fast. Her belly muscles leaped and jumped as her hips pumped forward. She circled her clit, then tweaked it. Her entire body convulsed with the first twinges of pleasure, building, unbelievable and delightful and yet also somehow desperate.

  Her mind filled with the images from the story. The stoic regent, yearning for the touch of the man she loved. The steadfast and inappropriate lover who risked everything for a night with her.

  She thought of the man she’d seen in the bar, the one whose face she’d appropriated for her hero. With another small groan, Chelle tried to turn her thoughts to someone else. A celebrity, a mishmash of features, something, anything but that real man who had turned back to look at her. It was useless. Her body had already started the inevitable journey to climax, and she couldn’t hold it back any more than she could’ve stood up against a tsunami.

  She gave in, letting the pleasure take her. So good, so fucking good, maybe even better because of that twisted twinge of guilt. Her fingers slipped on the wet tile as she pressed her forehead to the wall. Her body shook, racked with desire. Her pussy throbbed against her fingers and she gave her clit another slow circling tweak before cupping herself.

  The water was starting to get cold, but C