Night’s Mistress (Children of The Night #5)(11)
Author: Amanda Ashley

When Mara nodded, Logan wrapped his arms around her and willed the two of them to his place. They materialized in the living room. A wave of his hand lit a fire in the hearth.

“Can I get you anything?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I should go home.”

“Is that what you want?”

What she wanted was to curl up in his arms, to lose herself in his touch, to see if his lovemaking was still as explosive and satisfying as she remembered. She knew he desired her. The yearning was always there, in his heated glances, in the husky timbre of his voice when he spoke her name. Thus far, she had kept him at arm’s length, but looking at him now, she could feel the walls of her resistance crumbling.

“Mara?”

She looked at him, mute. What was wrong with her? Men had always bent their will to hers. She had bestowed her favors on those who pleased her and callously cast the others aside. But tonight, all she could do was wait and hope that Logan could read her mind.

He ran his knuckles lightly over her cheek. “Do you want to stay the night?”

Weak with relief, she nodded.

His hand slid around her nape, coaxing her back into his arms. “Remember that night on the river?”

“Yes.” How could she forget? It had been the first time they made love. Even after all these years, that night remained vivid in her memory—the yellow sand beneath them, a blanket of twinkling silver stars overhead, the moon’s light reflected on the black ribbon of the Nile, the night wind whispering secrets to the trees. She had seduced him until he turned the tables on her, his mouth capturing hers, his body young and firm, his arms strong around her. She would never forget the sound of his voice, husky with desire as he tucked her beneath him, the way the curves and hollows of their bodies had fit together perfectly, the taste of his warm, living blood on her tongue.

“It was like magic.” He dropped a kiss on her forehead, the tip of her nose, her cheeks. “It was magic.”

She nodded, her breath catching in her throat as his hand slid ever so slowly and seductively down her side to rest on her thigh.

His free hand captured one of hers and he brought it to his lips. “Let’s go make magic again.”

Feeling as though she were dreaming, she followed him down the hall.

His bedroom, with its pale gray walls, black furniture, and red accents, suited him perfectly. Heavy drapes hung at the windows. The bed, covered with a black satin quilt, was fit for a sultan.

Mara sat on the edge of the mattress. After removing her shoes, she dug her toes into the thick gray carpet. When she looked up, Logan stood at the foot of the bed, watching her, his eyes hooded.

“My feet hurt,” she remarked with a shrug.

Logan nodded. Rounding the bed to where she sat, he knelt before her, a willing supplicant before his queen. Lifting her foot to rest on his thigh, he began to rub her instep.

Mara watched his hands move over her foot. Large hands. Gentle hands that were familiar with every inch of her body. She had never thought of a foot massage as being sexy, she mused as she stared at his bowed head, which just proved that even a three-thousand-year-old vampire could learn something new.

Her insides curled with pleasure as his hand slid under her skirt. She could feel the latent strength in his fingers as his hand moved up, massaging her ankle, her calf, her thigh, and then moved down to her foot again, easing away the pain.

Her breath left her lungs in a long shuddering sigh as his hand slid slowly, sensuously, up her leg again, and then, gifting her with a wicked smile, he began to work his magic on her other foot.

By the time he finished, she was aching with need, trembling with desire.

Rising, he sat beside her, then drew her into his arms. “Don’t be afraid, love.” His fingers sifted through the heavy fall of her hair. “I don’t know what the devil is going on with you, but whatever it is, I won’t let you face it alone.”

“Logan . . .”

“Hush, love. We’ll worry about it tomorrow, but tonight . . .” He stood in a lithe movement. Drawing her to her feet, he turned her around and unzipped her dress. “Tonight is just for us.”

Taking her by the shoulders, he turned her so she was facing him again, and then he eased the dress off of her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. Her bra and panties quickly followed.

Logan whistled softly. She was as exquisite as he remembered. Standing there wearing nothing but the ruby pendant he had given her and an uncertain smile, she looked like every man’s fantasy come to life. But she was real and, for tonight, she was his.

Mara couldn’t take her gaze from Logan as he undressed, revealing the same bronzed, hard-muscled body that she had once known so well.

Swinging her into his arms, Logan drew back the covers and lowered Mara onto the mattress. After sliding under the covers beside her, he gathered her close. The night was beautiful, and so was the woman nestled in his arms. He had dreamed of this moment many times over the years, but he had never believed it would happen, and now she was here. He had never put much stock in fate, but he couldn’t help thinking it was more than coincidence that had brought them together at a time when she desperately needed help. Exactly what kind of help, he wasn’t sure, but he was prepared to do whatever was necessary, up to and including sacrificing his own life for hers.

“Logan . . .” Her hands moved restlessly up and down his back. “Kiss me,” she murmured. “Kiss me . . .”

“That’s it, darlin’,” he said, his hand caressing the silky length of her thigh. “Just tell me what you want.”

She locked her hands behind his nape. “I want you. All of you.” A seductive smile tugged at her lips. “Every inch.”

His gaze burned into hers, his voice low and husky as he confessed, “I’m yours, Mara. Don’t you know I’ve always been yours?” And lowering his head, he claimed her lips with his own.

She moaned softly. His kiss, gentle at first, grew deeper, more impassioned. This was what she wanted, what she had always wanted. Why had she denied it for so long? She had flitted from man to man, searching for someone to take Logan’s place when she could have had Logan the whole time. Why hadn’t she realized it sooner?

The thought gave her pause. She was supposed to be in love with Kyle Bowden, so why did it feel so right to be in Logan’s bed, in Logan’s arms? If she truly loved Kyle, would she even want to be with another man?

She pushed the thought away as Logan caressed her, his hands strong and sure, his mouth hot on hers. His familiar touch quickly aroused her, taking her back to that first night they had made love, back to a time when she had been sure of herself, in command of her world and everything in it, including the man rising over her.