Slaves of Destiny Read online

  Over and over, electricity ravaged her body, pulsing and twisting, turning into something unique. Magical. Something not of this world.

  Finally, it slowed then stopped. Her body stilled. Vaguely, she was aware of Bodhi. His face strained, he shouted, and his warm seed shot into her channel. Panting, he collapsed on top of her.

  A cocoon of safety surrounded her. For a long shuddering moment, she knew peace. Eyes closed, she inhaled, then exhaled, trapped under the weight of his masculine body, aware of how she was a part of him as he was of her. For the first time she could recall, there was no fear. Only love.

  Chapter 9

  Bodhi rolled over so Sera could breathe, then he stared up at the ceiling. He was still reeling. What was that? It had to be the most intense thing he’d ever experienced, and that included when he’d lost his virginity as a teenager.

  He glanced at Sera and she stared back, still panting. “Are you okay? Did that…feed you?”

  Her lips curved in a sensual smile. “Yes.”

  Good. He wasn’t sure he could go again. At least not right away. His body still trembled a bit from the after effects. He exhaled a breath. “That was…” Amazing. Spectacular. How did he say it without sounding like a big dork?

  “Good,” she finished. “For a human.”

  His self-esteem just nose-dived off a cliff. He sat up. “For a human?”

  “I’ve only ever had intercourse with humans. It was always,” she shrugged, “average. But what we just did was remarkable.”

  He grinned. That was more like it.

  “I never expected that from a mortal.” With a sly look, she asked, “Are you sure you’re not a warlock?”

  Bodhi grabbed her around the waist and dragged her to his side. She nuzzled her head in his neck and exhaled, sending a shiver down his spine. The sweet scent of her hair wafted to his nose and he fought the urge to bury his face in her hair. If he died with that scent in his memory, the orgasm, her lulling voice, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

  “I’m not a warlock, but what we just did was…” he couldn’t even find the words to describe it, “not human.”

  “It was magic,” she said on a sigh.

  It did almost seem that way. It was similar to the draw he felt toward her – nagging him to protect her, love her. Was he a victim to some movement of divine forces or was this real?

  And what about love? Why should that thought even cross his mind? He’d known her for…what? A few hours? Love wasn’t anywhere near the realm of reasonable.

  Then why was he so addicted to her? He could sit here all day, sniffing her hair, holding her in his arms, and never feel like he was missing anything.

  “Why?” he whispered to himself. Why did nothing seem to matter anymore? Was this an effect of being on death’s doorstep?

  “You always ask the wrong questions.”

  “Hm?” Had he spoken out loud?

  “Why? Why? Why?” She gave an exasperated sigh. “You should make up your own answer then ask how.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well,” she sat up and looked him in the eye sternly, “what do you want life to mean?”

  For a moment, he could only stare, bewildered. “Um. That’s what I’ve been searching for.”

  “Yes, but you’ve got it all turned around. It’s really quite simple. Decide what you want your life to be about then make it happen. The question isn’t why, it’s how.”

  No. That was too simple. He’d always believed there was something bigger out there – some larger purpose, some reason the earth rotated around the sun at exactly the right distance to support life. To think his life was an accident, just the happenstance of cells forming together, and that there could be no point to it at all had always been hard to swallow. And now this nymph, this creature from another world, had told him he could choose his own meaning.

  At first, his mind rebelled. But then he let instinct take over. It was a strong force that he often ignored in favor of the use of intellect, but it held some value. Instinct was only concerned with the girl. Right now it was satisfied holding her, petting her soft skin. In his soul, there was a happy silence. An almost meditative trance.

  What did instinct know that his mind didn’t?

  The meaning of his life had turned into finding answers to unanswerable questions. In all his adventures, his researching, his hours spent meditating and thinking, it seemed he’d missed the most important thing. The one thing that made it all worthwhile.

  Connection.

  There was no greater feeling in the world, nothing that made him more whole, than understanding and being understood by another person. Understanding creates connection, and connecting makes a path for love.

  And love was what made the journey worthwhile.

  Who knew sitting in an Underworld brothel would bring such clarity?

  “Tell me a story, Bodhi.” Seraphina slid down and rested her head in his lap. “Distract me from my fate.”

  Fate. Did he believe in that? Earlier he’d told her they were in charge of their own fate. It was a trite idea meant to soothe her. Despite his true feelings about fate, a distraction would comfort her so he thought through some of his favorite stories.

  “Hmm. Let me think of a good one.” Several Indian folk tales he’d been told as a child came to mind. While morally helpful, they weren’t especially memorable. “Ah. Have you ever heard of Romeo and Juliet?” This story of true love, though tragic, was one of his favorites.

  “No, but the names are beautiful.”

  “Well, it’s a very famous love story by a man named William Shakespeare.”

  She turned her head and gazed up at him, smiling. “Is it romantic?”

  “Very. But tragic too. It’s a tale of forbidden love.” At that, he launched into a brief synopsis of the story, embellishing the dramatic parts. His nieces and nephews always loved to hear him tell stories.

  As he spoke, he smoothed his hand over Sera’s hair. Her eyes drifted closed, but he knew she was listening to every word. Her breathing slowed, her lips were turned down in a frown. Such a sad thing. Though he didn’t feel like giving up hope yet, he had to acknowledge her courage in accepting her fate.

  “In the end, Juliet decided she couldn’t live without Romeo and so she’d be with him in death, since she couldn’t in life.”

  “That’s very sad,” she said, yawning. “Is it a true story?”

  “No.” He chuckled. “It’s a play.”

  “It’s silly to think you’re meant for only one lover. If she’d not been so rash, she could have found happiness with another.” She sighed. “Though I suppose it’s a logical assumption she wouldn’t find another mate. You humans live such short lives.”

  He chuckled, remembering just how inhuman she was, and just how strange his situation was. Laying in his lap, all soft and feminine, she seemed vulnerable and human – not the daughter of gods. Other times she looked more the part. Like when she’d danced and the moon brought out the paleness of her skin, making her appear almost translucent. Then it’d been easy to see her as the mythical creature that she was.

  But now – he squeezed her tight in his arms – she was just a girl. Scared and full of sorrow. He wished he had some power, some skill to save her.

  And what about himself? If he never returned home, what would his parents think? They’d have no idea what had happened to him. They’d assume he’d died in the wilderness, but that wouldn’t bring closure. What he wouldn’t give to say goodbye.

  Seraphina shot up from his arms, startling him.

  “What is it?” Already, his heart pounded.

  Her eyes widened and she grinned. “I have an idea.”

  Chapter 10

  Bodhi’s story had sparked a plan. “It’s not terribly brilliant and it might not work, but…” She looked deep into his eyes, seeing the regret there, the defeat, and realized she’d do anything to save him. Fate could take her, but he was innocent.

  “One pla
n is better than none,” he said. “Go on. Let’s hear it.”

  “The story gave me an idea. When I was bathing back at the river, I didn’t see you or hear you, yet you’d been sitting there watching me, yes?”

  “I was deep in meditation.”

  “Like a trance?”

  “Yes.”

  “When I arrived at the bank, there was a doe, drinking near where you appeared. That means it didn’t sense you either.”

  His brow creased, clearly trying to follow her plan. “I can shut down my body. Slow my breathing and heart rate to the bare minimum.”

  She shifted to her knees and faced him. “Then you can do it again?”

  He seemed to puzzle over her excitement. “Yes. Why?”

  Bouncing on the bed, she clapped her hands. Hope blossomed and energized her. “We are going to fake your death! Like Romeo.”

  Recognition seemed to hit and he nodded. “So I’ll play dead when they come to take you to the auction…”

  “Yes. I’ll tell them I fed too much. It can happen. You’re only human...”

  “Good to know,” he mumbled.

  “They’ll drag me away and hopefully won’t bother locking the door behind them. Then you can escape.”

  “Wait a minute.” He frowned at her. “Escape? By myself?”

  She nodded.

  “But what about you?”

  Waving him away, she answered flippantly, “You can’t save me, silly.” That part was true, but she’d accepted her death a while back. It was Bodhi she grieved for now. He didn’t deserve any of this. He just stumbled into it, trying to do the right thing.

  He shook his head. “I won’t leave you here to be…ripped apart by satyrs.”

  She could tell he had trouble saying the words. It was a gruesome picture in her head too. Maybe the gods would have pity on her and take her soul early.

  She gave Bodhi an indulgent look. “You’re sweet, but there’s nothing you can do. There’ll be a herd of satyrs and you’re only one mortal. I won’t be responsible for your death. You have to escape. You can’t let that be on my conscience.”

  He stared through her for a few moments and she wondered what he was thinking. He’d jumped through the portal just to save her, not knowing what was on the other side. But now that he did know, he had to be sensible enough to see the best outcome for him was to flee. Her fate was sealed. His was still undecided.

  Finally, he nodded. “Okay. I’ll go when they take you away.” His gaze flitted around the room. “Where should I be when they come in? We need it to look realistic.”

  Relief washed over her. He would live. She pointed to the end of the bed. “The floor would be good. And away from the door so the incubus won’t examine you too much.”

  “Right. Good idea.” He skimmed the floor, tapping his index finger on his lip. “Would I be bleeding or anything?”

  She grimaced. “Well, there’d probably be some blood. If I used your body too much, it’d show some signs of trauma.”

  His face paled.

  “Just a little,” she rushed to add. “Maybe from your nose?”

  Swallowing hard, he nodded. “You should be able to accomplish that.”

  “What? Me?” She’d never hurt a human, or overfed, but she’d seen others of her kind do it by accident. Not that they were remorseful much. Most supernaturals had no regard for human life. They were food or a nuisance or nothing at all. But Seraphina had always seen value in every living thing. And now, just as she was starting to fall for this man, he wanted her to strike him?

  She shook her head. “I can’t.”

  “Sure, you can.” His lips quirked in a saucy smile. “I’ll just pester you until you want to hit me.”

  “That won’t work.” Though it made her laugh. She folded her arms over her chest. “Do your worst, professor. You won’t drive me to hurt you.”

  Still wearing that smirk, he eyed her up and down. “What if I…” He leapt on her, tackling her backward onto the bed and she screeched.

  He pinned her with his body and arched a brow. “What if I tickled you?” Without waiting for an answer, he did it anyway.

  She laughed and shrieked and tried to squirm away, but she didn’t strike him. “It won’t work,” she yelled between giggles, flailing under his stronger body.

  Finally, he stopped and gazed down at her. The laughter faded and his eyes turned lustful. He bent his head and kissed her. Gentle and sweet…this kiss wasn’t about sex or domination. It felt tender. Maybe even an expression of love.

  Then she felt him harden against her hip. When he pulled away, she teased, “And I thought I was insatiable.”

  “You’re sexy. I can’t help myself.”

  Hunger started again. She’d fed enough to sustain her, but when he shoved his hips between her legs and pressed up against her sex, she didn’t think she’d ever be full of him. He’d done so much for her, she wanted to repay him.

  When he leaned down to mouth her breast, she gave him a shove. “Wait.” He stopped then sat up on his knees. Sparing a moment to appreciate his physique, she let her gaze slide up and down his body. “I want to give you a gift.”

  “Okay,” he said skeptically. But he remained still while she took her time assessing him.

  Though he was an intellectual, his chest and arm muscles looked more like a laborer. Sitting up on her knees, she ran her fingers over his smooth skin then the mark on his chest. “What is it?”

  “Om.” He went on when she gave him a confused expression. “It’s a symbol from my culture. Om is believed to be the first sound. The sound made when the world was created. The primordial vibration. Some people believe it was the universal conscience when the earth was formed. For me, it’s a reminder that there is a higher purpose.”

  She’d never heard of such a culture. Though she was created to speak and understand all languages, she wasn’t given much context for them. As for a collective conscience, she could neither confirm nor deny it existed. One thing she was learning about Bodhi was how desperately he fought to give his life meaning.

  “If you’d stop looking so hard for your life’s purpose, you might find it more naturally. Purpose isn’t one big moment. It’s the small every day things that give life meaning.”

  He didn’t answer – only stared at her heatedly. Was he even paying attention?

  Finally, he trailed his hand down her cheek and to her neck. “The meaning of life has mattered less since meeting you.” With a small chuckle, he added, “Especially since I might not make it out of here alive.”

  “Yes.” Her breathing quickened. “Near-death can do that to a person.” She laughed humorlessly, but he only stared at her.

  Then he leaned in and took her mouth with his. He teased her with his tongue, playing sensual games. Fingers tickled across her collarbone then dipped down between her breasts. Lightly, he swept them across her nipple and she squeaked.

  When he stopped kissing her, he pulled the dress over her head and bared her body. His gaze swooped over her naked form. She could feel it like hot fingers as it travelled the length of her body. Between her legs, a slow throb started. The urge to please him, to make him come, was strong.

  She pressed a kiss to the mark on his chest, then continued a path down to his stomach, kissing and licking. His head fell back and he groaned. Lower, she nipped and bit then stopped just below his bellybutton. He was breathing heavily now and she took that as a compliment.

  She stared at his manhood. Dark and long, she remembered the feeling of it inside her. Heat rushed to her sex and she yearned to grind up against him, to relieve the ache. But she wanted to feel him in her mouth first.

  Trembling slightly, she got on all fours in front of him. She’d seen others take a man in their mouth, but she’d never done it. What if she hurt him?

  “Don’t be afraid.” He chuckled. He must’ve read her nervous expression. “It won’t bite.”

  “I’m more worried about hurting you.”

&nbs
p; Wrapping her hair in his fist, he urged her forward. “Just don’t use your teeth and you’ll be fine.”

  She opened her mouth and he plunged inside. At first, she just ran her tongue over the smooth skin, learning it, adjusting to its girth. Then she pressed her lips around him and sucked, as she’d seen others do. When he let out a loud groan, she understood why her sisters had said it gave them the upper hand.

  After she played a while, paying attention to when he made noises and what he liked, she slid her mouth off his cock and stared up at him. With a small smile, he reached out and touched her chin, seeming appreciative.

  “Was that good?” she asked cheekily, touching her index finger to the tip of his cock and slowly spiraling down it.

  His gaze grew heated.

  “Or this?” Even more slowly, while smiling at him, she redrew that spiral going upward.

  Snarling, he spun her roughly to face the wall. With her still on all fours, he grabbed her hips and shoved inside her. The first thrust made her shout in surprise. Over and over, he pounded into her, grunting as she cried out. She felt the orgasm rise, peaking, but then he slowed to a stop.

  She growled in frustration.

  ***

  Her growl was so cute, he almost laughed. “What’s the matter, beautiful?” He reached around her to toy with her nipples, tugging and pinching first one then the other.

  She moaned and arched her back, almost collapsing onto the mattress. Fuck, her tight sheath felt good around him. As much as he wanted to come, he also wanted to prolong this feeling. But when she pressed back against him and whined, he lost all thought.

  Mercilessly, he drove into her, enjoying her high-pitched squeals and desperate cries. Her body sunk down onto the mattress, but he held her ass up with hands around her hips. Firm hips, bitable ass, soft skin. She was perfect.

  With a grunt, he emptied into her, holding her tightly as she convulsed against him. When the spasms inside her lessened, he heaved a breath and pulled out.