Ink of Copper

30. In Which a Syren Calls

Chapter 30

In Which a Syren Calls

K icking off his shoes in the darkened room, he absentmindedly threw the room key on the table next to the door. Liam went to the mini fridge; taking a water bottle, he gulped several mouthfuls. She watched from the shadows as he rolled his head on his shoulders, oblivious to her presence. He crossed to the makeshift living area and was about to sit when he noticed her. Mid-motion, he paused, hands on the arms of the club chair, his butt hovering over the seat cushion, staring at her in alarm at first.

“How’d you get in here?” The dangerous note in his voice sent a shiver through her.

Callassa let a slow, sultry smile spread across her full lips as she shrugged one shoulder. “The porters on this ship will do almost anything for a pretty face.” Arching her eyebrow, she slipped from the shadow, ensuring he caught every swing of her hips.

“Hi.” She waved her fingers at him and stopped her advance in the middle of the room. As his gaze raked over her, he plopped into the chair and crossed an ankle over his knee. He watched her move purposefully, each sway a beckoning to sin.

“Hi? Is that all you’re gonna say, lass?”

Callassa shook her dark hair over her shoulders. “I wasn’t going to say a thing if you want to know the truth.”

She folded herself into the chair opposite him. The dress she had chosen for this part of the deal was tiny and easy to remove. She knew he wouldn’t be able to resist. This close to the end, she wasn’t leaving anything to chance. Her people and their freedom, hell, her freedom, were far too important. Moving a hand up her thigh and across the hem of her dress, she crossed her legs. From this vantage point, Callassa studied him, timing everything just right. This was a calculated dance. One false move, too early or too late, and her partner could turn on her. His reaction in the corridor had her on guard. The play of the darkening room on his features made him look more dangerous than before. He looked every bit the deadly warrior Athena had created. Chiseled cheekbones that were works of art. A firm jaw with full, expressive lips. Power exuded from him, from top to bottom. Power that, if Callassa wasn’t careful, would kill her before she could free her people.

Watching him through lowered lashes, something stirred in her. Something ancient called to him. It differed from the familiar hot tingle between her thighs when imagining his lips. The surge of magic flowing from him, mixing in a delightfully strange way, spread gooseflesh across her skin. His schoolboy charm was rousing, as were his eyes which danced as they studied her, as if he was about to tell a dirty joke. Raking her eyes over him gave her time to calculate each detail. His long fingers stretched out from solid hands and muscled forearms. He was wearing a button-down shirt with the collar left open, and her fingers burned to caress his skin. She licked her bottom lip, her mouth suddenly dry.

Let the game begin.

Liam rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “You gonna break into my stateroom and not say a word to me?” A grin played on his lips. “You fecking burglar.”

“Well”—she tossed her hair over one shoulder—“I was curious about what you might do if you found me at your mercy. But now, it seems, I have you at mine.”

Standing, she closed the distance between them and perched on the arm of his chair. She ran one finger from his temple to the back of his ear before sliding her hand behind his head. Staring intensely at him, she noticed the swirls of color in those hazel eyes: golden flecks with greens and browns.

“You said you wanted to cherish me. Take your time. How exactly do you plan to make me”—she lifted his chin with her finger—“yours?”

His eyes darted to her lips and back, taking in each tantalizing word while the feeling of intense desire ebbed and flowed between them. It was incredibly provocative. Raw and electrifying power coursing as his magic mixed with hers. His hooded gaze roamed her body, causing her skin to flush. Black pupils swallowed everything but a ring of gold consuming her with their intensity. The sweetest of torture. She cradled his chin between her thumb and forefinger, waiting for his response.

In one fluid motion, he swept her into his lap. One arm around her hips, the other remained on the chair, poised to spring into action. She let out a little squeak as her ass made contact. Arching her back, she adjusted herself, pushing her breasts up. Wiggling side to side across his thighs had Liam sucking air.

Callassa knew exactly how to tease him, how to look, what to say, and he was playing right into her hands. Tossing her hair, she slid one arm slowly up his chest and snaked it around the back of his head, pulling him to her. Bringing her mouth dangerously close to his, she held him with a poignant look. His heartbeat rammed wildly against his chest, erratic, and as she moved closer, those valorous eyes pulled her in.

“I suppose I shall start with—” His breath was hot and sweet against her cheeks.

Pressing her body into his chest, she drew closer.

“Humm?” came the sound of a sultry purr.

“What’s your favorite film?”

She blinked twice. Pulling her head back, she searched his face in utter confusion. That playful, goofy, schoolboy grin lit up his handsome face. A twinkle in his eye, he winked at her as the seriousness and tension dissipated like smoke. He wrapped both arms around her, grinning ear to ear. Her lips twitched, then widened as her face exploded with joy. She laughed a real, honest-to-goodness laugh from deep in her cold soul. Covering her mouth, the sound escaped between her fingers, unable to be contained, as her shoulders shook with mirth.

“What is your favorite film? Which is it, Syren?” he asked again as she giggled. “A cartoon? Or some sort of action film? Maybe you like the sappy, soddy love stories.”

His eyes darted to the ceiling thoughtfully. “I’ve got it. You have a guilty pleasure for vampires and zombies, right?” He nestled his forehead to hers. “Admit it, it’s the bad boys for you.”

Callassa laughed until her sides ached, throwing her arms around his neck. She had planned on many things once she entered the human realm. She had planned on infiltrating Athena’s warriors. Had planned on earning the trust of the Serathena and then kidnapping her in exchange for her loyalists. She’d even prepared to fight for her life should it come to that. But she never planned on liking Liam. His strangely arousing blend of attractiveness and class clown caught her off guard as she rested against him, settling down. Power, magic, and lust washed in waves through her, unnerving her. She wanted his lips again with an inexplicable need. Going on nothing more than desire, she closed the gap between them. Her lips, soft at first, melted into his, eagerly meeting each touch. Teasingly, she opened her mouth, her tongue tangling with his, deepening their kiss and igniting her blood. He placed a hand in her hair, holding her in place. His fingers dug into her scalp, massaging, rubbing, sending shivers down her spine. His fingers, entwined in her hair at the root, wove themselves around a section, and tugged, eliciting a moan from her.

Gods, this man knew how to kiss.

Her teeth scraped his five o’clock shadow as she sent kisses blooming along his jaw, nipping as she went. His pulse beat erratically under her lips, and when she found a particularly sensitive area, the hiss that followed caused her to smile. Moving his head back briefly, he gazed into her eyes. The warmth of browns and greens with flecks of gold, dove into her deep-brown eyes, unraveled whatever control she had left. She kissed his nose and the corners of his mouth rose.

Standing, Callassa held out her hand to him. Taking it, Liam intertwined his fingers with hers. His warm, large palm felt right, secure, holding her smaller hand. His thumb slid her ring back and forth, playing with it. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he effectively trapped her arm behind her back. His eyes traveled towards the soft mounds sticking up from the top of her dress begging for attention. He lingered and pulled a snort of protest from her as he drank her in. She lifted her chin defiantly. They were eye to eye, something that thrilled her most unusually. Her curves pressed against him conjured visions of him lifting her, shoving her against the wall behind them, her long legs wrapping around his waist.

“What’s next, vixen?” Liam said low as he placed a kiss on her throat.

“If you have to ask, I might be too much woman for you.”

He threw back his head and laughed and the vibrations beat against her. Laughter still in his eyes, he pulled her closer, their bodies melding together. He kissed her again until her head swam. Letting go of her waist, he studied her as she moved to the bedroom door. Twisting the knob open, she challenged him to take the bait. Nodding once, he leaned forward and braced his forearms on the doorframe. She smoothed her palms along his cheeks, his whiskers prickly against her skin. His fingers gripped the sides as trepidation settled in her. His eyes, which held playfulness and mischievousness seconds earlier, flickered gold again. Her heart sped up, racing at a frightening pace. Afraid to back down but also afraid he might try to overpower her, she tried to steady her out-of-control pulse. Bracing for the worst, she smiled seductively at him.

“Coming?”

“Are you sure, Syren?” His hooded gaze glowed gold as he leaned into the room.

She nodded, but Liam shook his head.

“I need to hear you say the words. I’ll not take a step further until you do. I want your permission.”

The backflip her stomach performed at that word nearly took her breath. He was asking permission. Permission . No one had ever asked her what she wanted. Her body had long been under the goddess Zaphine’s control; for centuries, she had little say in what happened to her. A twinge of autonomy jackknifed in the middle of her chest. Just this once, she wanted to choose. To forget that he was under a spell, and she was bound to the sadistic Dark Oracle. Choose him, for no other reason but because he simply asked. Those golden, glowing orbs searched, waiting for her answer. A slow smile curled one corner of that beautiful mouth.

“What’s it gonna be, love?”

She nodded again.

“Say it,” Liam growled.

A shiver snaked its way through her. She desperately wanted to believe he wouldn’t hurt her. His graceful fingers clung to the wood as she slowly unbuttoned his shirt. Watching every move intently, his eyes never left her. The shirt now open, her hands roamed his chest, sending shivers through him. Testing him. Teasing him. Wanting to believe he genuinely wanted her permission and not the idea of it. His knuckles turned white, but he made no move to touch her.

“If I say no?”

Her arched brow met his intense stare, but he remained stationary.

“Then the answer is no. The choice is yours. It will always be yours. I don’t want an unwilling participant.”

Dancing her fingers across his chest, enticing him, she waited for him to flinch, to give in, but he remained steadfast, waiting for her answer. His eyes fluttered closed when she leaned forward and brushed her lips against his stubbled chin.

“Come fuck me.”

A low growl tore through him in response. Lifting her, he wrapped her legs around his waist, her ass in his hands. He tossed her on the bed, and she landed with a squeak on the mattress. Scooting to the top of the bed, she lounged back on her elbow, lips parted in anticipation. In her scramble into position, her dress hiked up, barely grazing her upper thighs. Shedding his shirt, he tossed it to the floor and prowled after her, climbing onto the bed like a panther. Her tawny, golden skin was a warm contrast to his darker shade against the white sheets. Crooking her finger, she beckoned him as he crawled. When he reached her lips, his kiss was hard and deep; her head swam from the lust, power, and magic exchanged between them.

Sinking down onto her, he positioned his hips against hers. He felt amazing in her arms. Right. Perfect. Complete. As he deepened his kiss, she cocked a knee up, giving him access to the center of her, and wrapped her leg around his waist. He played with her lips as his hand traveled up her leg, teasing the delicate skin on the inside. Callassa giggled and squirmed at his touch. The tip of his hard cock pushed against the apex of her legs in such a delicious way that she moaned and threw her head back. His hand rounded her thigh and came to her ass, giving it a squeeze. She captured his bottom lip between her teeth. The euphoric groan Liam emitted set her body on fire as he rocked, pressing himself into the sensitive little nub at her core.

“Now, since it’s the bad boys you like”—his breathless words came as he rubbed against her, creating sweet friction and driving her crazy—“how bad are we talking?”

Arching her back, she nipped his chin. “I need you.”

“Aye, I’m aware. Is it the teasing you crave?”

The tip of his tongue traced a line from her ear to her neck, pulling a low moan from deep within her. Callassa tried to squeeze her thighs together, forcing him into the right spot, but he moved his hips back, denying her. Whimpering, crazed with lust, the magical exchange causing her head to swim. Liam laid soft kisses on the swell of her breasts.

“Please. Please, Liam.”

“Maybe you need a lesson in patience.” Gathering her hands above her head in one of his own, he clasped them on the mattress. His eyes were glowing bright, a light in the dark. A snicker came as he kissed her lips, then her chin, then the rise of her breasts. The same restraint and straining of power from the corridor again flowed out from him. Liam was holding himself back, keeping himself from fully letting go. Apprehension dissipated the longer he worshipped her, taking his time, differing from any other target. His tongue made its way to just below the neckline of her dress.

“How’s about I play with you? Tease you until you’re desperate.” His eyes were wild, mesmerizing. She tried to pull one wrist from his grasp. A saucy smirk crossed his lips as he bent her other knee with his free hand, laying her open to him.

“Or,” he said, close to her lips so that the “O” barely touched her mouth. “You need to be in control. Tell me what you want. I’ve done nothing but think of you for days.” His hand rubbed her mound in slow, tantalizing circles. “Beg for me, Syren.”

Arching her back, she moaned, struggling against his grip. He was driving her out of her mind. Her body on fire, she needed release, and the damn man had the audacity to talk, now?

“Tell me,” he whispered as his fingers trailed along her panties. “You’re so wet, Syren. Beg me. Tell me you want to fuck me, a chuisle mo chroí.”

Writhing under him, moaning and desperate, she gripped either side of his waist, trying desperately to get a sweet release. He denied her anything but slow strokes and soft pressure—cruelty in the form of sweet torture. Kissing the tops of her breasts, his tongue dipped below the fabric. Callassa arched off the bed when his tongue met her now overly sensitive nipple. She clenched her jaw in frustration as he made another pass, coming only close enough but not touching either. She’d make him pay for this teasing; using her strength, she rolled. One second, she was trapped under him, and the next, she was on top, staring down.

Liam landed on his back with an “oomph.”

“I do not beg.” She regally lifted her chin.

She straddled him, her nicely shaped ass resting on his thighs. Liam lifted his head, but she quickly placed both hands over his head, holding him by the wrists. He could escape her grip if he wanted, but the wicked smile that crossed his full mouth told her he rather enjoyed being trapped under her. She bit his bottom lip, and he groaned, slipping one hand out of her grip. It came to grab her ass.

Sitting up, Callassa pulled her dress over her head. She was bare to him, all except a pair of thong panties with lace at the top. She arched her back, stretching her arms above her head, and reveled in the admiration that passed over his face.

“Damn, love. You are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen.”

Callassa stopped, her breath catching in her throat, his words catching her off guard. She swallowed against a lump in her throat. This man was charming her. His words, his gentle touch, and the way he was teasing her were throwing her off her game.

“What is it you want, Liam?” she said, hoping to regain the upper hand.

“You.” His hands rested on her hips. “Just you.”

Sliding both hands to her perfect breast, he watched them spill out of his hands as he rolled her nipples between his fingers. The sensation caused her to gasp and throw her head back. Sitting up, he covered one nipple with his mouth, and she clutched his head to her breast.

He enjoyed her this way for a few moments as her hands roamed his shoulders and arms. Her fingers grazed along his upper arm, when they danced across a long, hard scar that ran the length of his bicep. Seizing his hand granted her a grunt of protest from him, Callassa swiftly turned it over to inspect, tracing the deep scar. Liam tried to move, but she stopped him. Forgetting, momentarily, that she was supposed to be human and not have the strength she did, she slammed his arm to the side and leaned over to get a better look.

“It’s nothing,” Liam said softly, trying to wrestle away, but rage welled in her. Someone had hurt him and caused a scar to mar his otherwise perfect body. Sure, a warrior would have imperfections, but not like this, not in this shape. The length of the curve, the way the skin healed from the wound, the scar was caused by a scythe. And she knew exactly which centaur carried a scythe that inflicted this type of wound. Pegones the Centaur. Murderous rage coursed through her. Pegones was the henchman of a certain dark oracle. The same who had her trapped at the moment.

“Who did this to you?” she said through clenched teeth trying to grip on to the human she was pretending to be.

Taken aback at her abrupt change, Liam rubbed her leg and shook his head.

“ A chroí, don’t worry. It happened years ago. It’s not important now.” Wrapping his arms around her, he kissed her shoulder, then smoothed a hand over her cheek. Callassa’s eyes flashed, and she gripped his arm.

“Who did this to you?” she repeated, desperately trying to control her rage.

“You can kill them later,” he breathed. “Come back to me, a chuisle mo chroí .”

Her gaze still held murder, but the gentleness of his voice brought her back. Remembering she was supposed to be human, she half-laughed and leaned into his hand.

But a flame sparked alive. Anyone who would dare hurt what was hers would pay the price. She placed her forehead on his and moved the intense anger aside. Liam reclaimed her lips, the scar forgotten for now. He trailed his fingers lower teasingly, her breath coming in short spurts. Clutching the waistband of his pants, she tugged.

“Wait.” Reaching overhead to the nightstand, he fumbled around, opening a drawer and closing it. A shiny square wrapper in his hand, that schoolboy smirk slid across his face. “Safety first.”

“I need these off now,” she commanded, grinding a palm along his swollen length.

Liam was all too happy to oblige the request and was bare to her in moments. She teased him, running her fingers lightly over the tip, grasping him, and stroking up and down slowly. So much so that he was begging, whimpering for more within a few strokes.

“It’s not so nice to tease, is it, Liam?” She was circling his tip with her index finger while he growled.

Gripping the edge of her panties, he groaned, “I need these off now!”

In a quick move, they were off, he lifted her and set her on top, having placed the condom as she removed the last barrier between them. She guided him into her effortlessly, and they both sighed as she sank onto him. Squeezing her inner muscles around him caused him to jerk. Sliding forward, his body following her movements, he almost slipped out of her. Rocking back, she took all of him on the second stroke, causing him to utter a moan deep in his chest.

“Feck Zeus!” his strained voice rasped.

Gripping her hips as she rocked forward, he lifted his own, quickening her strokes. Soon, they had a rhythm they both enjoyed. Bringing his fingers between them, he found her sensitive clit and rubbed. She shuddered and picked up the pace. His expert movements kept in time with the rocking of her hips, increasing the pressure as she grew more desperate. Her head dropping back, she moaned, their bodies reaching a fever pitch. Her fingernails dug into the soft skin of his chest the closer she got to her orgasm, her hips slamming into him. He slowed her down to a painstakingly irritating rhythm.

“I need more.” She was breathless and desperate.

Liam’s golden eyes were dark with desire. “Lean back, love,” he said as he sat up.

“What?”

“Lean back. I only want your pleasure, Syren.”

The position changed the angle, and he glided against the sensitive area deep inside her on the next stroke. A guttural groan erupted from within her, the sensation new. Moaning low, he increased their speed and hitting that spot repeatedly.

“You feel that?” he murmured into her neck. “Fecking Zeus, Syren.”

Their pace was erratic, and her pleasure built to such a crescendo she was entirely out of control.

“Holy fuck.”

Her head fell back, panting, sweat slick along her skin, her arms braced behind her. Liam held her hips in place, slamming into her, each stroke hitting that spot.

“That’s right, vixen,” he cooed, kissing a trail from her neck to between her breasts.

The orgasm came on suddenly and hard, forcefully crashing into them. Callassa cried out as Liam pushed his hips forward. She shattered into pieces and screamed. Screamed like a siren. Screamed in her native language. Screamed, so the walls of the room shuddered. She kept riding him, milking him for everything he had. When the second orgasm hit her, her screams became high-pitched, more desperate, more siren. Collapsing on top of him, her hands balled into fists; she was free from everything as her body floated on a cloud of emotions. Liam held her close, stroking her back, whispering something she didn’t understand. He slid out of her, and she rolled to her side, curling as her arms wrapped around herself. Another scream escaped her as her body convulsed, unable to move or speak in anything but her native tongue. Liam moved, his hands pressing, touching, shaking.

“Syren.”

She heard his voice through the fog. She answered, but her words came out in her native tongue. Filthy words. Phrases she had only heard at court but never said aloud.

“Syren,” he called again, his voice filled with worry. Another wave slammed into her, and she released a quieter scream. She was floating back to Earth, her body coming back to itself. Liam had given her the most intense, mind-blowing experience she had ever encountered. In her Congress, she had heard sirens achieve this intensity, but it was usually reserved for pairs. Mates. Not someone like her. They didn’t allow a queen to have mates, as they considered it too risky for what was expected of her. She hadn’t expected Liam to be so caring, so focused on her needs instead of his own. She was relaxing. Her body stopped convulsing, but her mind began whirling.

How could one of Athena’s warriors cause this type of reaction?

His worried voice called to her through the haze. Relaxed, she stretched her arms overhead, and all but purred as she rolled over, a huge smile of satisfaction on her lips until she saw the expression of concern on Liam’s handsome face.

“What’s wrong?”

Fear gripped her, as he looked down. Afraid he had figured her out, she braced for his wrath.

His jaw dropped slowly. “What’s wrong?” he repeated. “Syren, what’s wrong? You. You’re what’s wrong. You screamed, and that sound—I was afraid I’d—gods, are you hurt? Did I hurt you?”

Rubbing his hands over her, concern and worry, marring his features, creasing lines into his face. Genuine, kind, his hands ran over her stomach, hip, thighs, and knees.

“Keep that up, and I might be ready for a second round.”

Liam jerked and pursed his lips tightly together. “I’m concerned I hurt you, and you’re going on about a second round?”

Tenderly caressing his furrowed brow, she smiled. “You didn’t hurt me.”

“But that scream. You curled up—”

Placing two fingers on his lips, she cut him off. “I wasn’t in pain. You, my sex god, gave me the most intense orgasm of my life.” Callassa tried to make her face as serious as possible, but her eyes twinkled as she spoke. “That wasn’t pain, dear heart, that was pleasure.”

He shook his head, not entirely convinced she was telling the truth. “Are you certain?”

“Very.” She lifted her head and awkwardly kissed the underside of his jaw. “If you give me a few minutes, I can show you just how much.” She nipped his jaw and his cock jerked.

Hours later, she lay wrapped up in Liam, wrung out and satisfied. They had gone another round, and again, a scream erupted during her orgasm. He had once again been concerned but was reassured quickly.

His hand moved rhythmically over her back as he sighed softly, drifting off to sleep as her mind raced. Callassa scolded herself for not being more careful. She didn’t know how much the warriors knew about siren culture, but she wasn’t keen on being killed for seducing and lying to one. Nor did she understand how one of Athena’s nymphs had made a siren orgasm so intensely. Mating bonds had rituals. Athena’s nymphs were once human and couldn’t bond. She grabbed his shirt off the floor as more questions circled her mind. She had only gotten it buttoned halfway when Liam reached for her.

“Where are you going?” he asked lazily. A pillow half-covered his face, one eye watching her.

She leaned over and kissed his temple. “I need a glass of water. Do you want anything?” She smoothed his wild hair and he buried himself further into the covers. Smiling, she tiptoed out. As Callassa moved through the stateroom, thoughts of their evening together filled her mind. She had waited until this last night before Athens to make a clean break once they docked. This way, she could tell the queen the deed was done with as little lying as possible and no way to harm him further. It would be easy to slip away in a sea of people. The eager response to her had her almost believing her spell wasn’t necessary, that they shared a genuine connection.

The Serathena would be vulnerable, and she would be out of these cuffs by tomorrow evening. She had built a makeshift friendship which would be Ellie’s downfall. Before she took Ellie to her fate, she needed only one more screw to turn before venturing to the darkest recesses of Olympus to find the one she needed to rid these cuffs. She needed to convince Liam to take her to dinner, which seemed easy enough. A frown creased her face as she filled her glass with water. This would be the only moment she and Liam shared. He made her feel cherished. Whole. But for her plan to succeed and break the bonds the goddess Zaphine had on her people, she had to follow through.

Callassa was thinking about Liam as she headed back to the bedroom, when a sharp, piercing pain struck above her ankle. Stifling a cry with her fist, she gingerly tried to put weight on the foot. Once again, searing pain. Hobbling her way to the bathroom, she flicked on the lights to inspect her leg.

Her hand flew to her mouth and covered the cry that threatened. There, on her ankle, etched into her skin, were the beginnings of a mated mark. Rubbing furiously at her marred skin, she shook in disbelief as coils and vines wrapped around, etching slowly across. In two parts, the hilt of a sword appeared, scrolling across her flesh. Panting, her eyes wide, her heartbeat rapid, Callassa had no choice but to stare and watch in horror as the mark wove around her ankle.

A mated mark.

“No. No, no, no, no,” she whispered. Trying desperately to remove it, she rubbed until her skin was red and, when that didn’t work, she slid to the floor in defeat. Silent tears slid down her cheeks as she wrapped her arms around her knees and curled into herself. The freedom just within her grasp hours before slipped through her fingers. A mated queen would never be truly free. Like the binding cuffs, being mated to Liam, she would be under his control, his whims, never her own person. He could take her throne if he wanted it. Side with her Congress. Inflict more misery on her people. On her. She would forever be bound to the warrior who slept just feet away, unaware of her agony. Unaware that he held her future in his hands.

She was a siren, a race of creatures the gods used. He was a nymph created by Athena for the next Trojan War. A mate between these two was unholy. Weeping on the bathroom floor, she broke, her world shrinking as the last remaining glimmer of freedom faded from sight. Their union was an abomination in her world. Her throne was slipping from her grasp. Once the Congress knew about him, she would never gain back her throne even if she broke the chains Zaphine had on her island. And the current sitting queen, the puppet her Congress wanted, would love to see Callassa torn apart.

She was once a queen without a throne, fighting for freedom.

Now, she was simply the whore she trained to be, mated to a warrior.