Chapter 11
Eleven
Rafe leaned into the corner of the elevator, his hands tightly gripping the railing that ran along the walls.
He stared at Philippe, knowing his face showed the same ravenous hunger he saw on the other vampire’s.
But they didn’t touch. Not in the car on the incredibly fast drive across town to his penthouse.
Not as they walked across the parking garage. Not in the elevator.
But the air separating them crackled as if lightning arced between them from some hidden Tesla coil.
It was like they were waiting for an official to wave a flag, blow a whistle, or fire the starting gun. For now, they didn’t move, tensed and so fucking ready.
Rafe had wanted Philippe from the first second he’d seen him seated in the art gallery, practically glowing with angelic light.
He wanted to spoil that perfection. Or better yet, peer below the innocent facade to find all the wickedness he knew had to exist at the core of him.
There was no way he was attracted to a pure and virtuous creature.
He knew there had to be more to Philippe, and he was dying to taste it.
But whispering in the back of his mind was the constant reminder that Philippe was also the leader of the Arsenault clan. Philippe was older than Rafe by decades. That made him stronger, more powerful. More dangerous.
And judging by what Philippe had said earlier, Rafe was not going to be the one in control when he entered the bedroom with Philippe. Or wherever he happened to find himself pinned.
He liked being in the driver’s seat when it came to sex. Making sure everyone found their pleasure when he wanted, pushing them to their very limits so they were left boneless and utterly sated.
To his shock, he felt himself growing even harder at the prospect of Philippe searching for Rafe’s limits.
He trusted Philippe to find them and bring them both to climax.
The elevator chimed, snapping him from the shocking thought that had locked up his brain, and he led the way into his penthouse. Philippe moved behind him, silent as a predator, but Rafe’s nerve endings were tingling, his senses heightened. He could feel Philippe.
Keeping his strides slow and natural, Rafe walked over to the bar lining the wall of his living room. “Would you like a drink first?”
The tips of Philippe’s fingers skimmed up Rafe’s spine. Rafe couldn’t stop the soft hiss that escaped his parted lips while goose bumps broke out across his arms. Closer than he’d thought.
“No. Maybe we should discuss some ground rules before we begin.” Philippe’s voice was light but firm in his seriousness.
Rafe turned to face him, their bodies only a couple of inches apart. “I trust you.”
Philippe’s lips twisted in a smile, and Rafe could almost read his thoughts.
“Not because you wish to stay on my brothers’ good sides and not because you want me to help you find Piper,” Rafe continued. “I trust you.”
Rafe hadn’t realized it was true until he’d whispered those words, but he truly did. Every fiber of his being screamed that Philippe would not intentionally hurt him or his brothers.
The smirk vanished, and there was wonder in the wideness of his green eyes and in the part of his perfect pink lips.
Very slowly, Philippe raised his hand and slid it along Rafe’s jaw, up to cup his cheek.
Rafe closed his eyes turned his head, pressing his mouth into his palm. He reveled in that simple touch.
“I swear to do everything within my power to never abuse that gift,” Philippe whispered fiercely, and Rafe believed him.
“Tonight, I want to give you pleasure like you’ve never known.”
Rafe opened his eyes and met blazing bright-green ones. “For both of us.”
The hand on his face slipped into his hair and gripped tightly.
Sharp pain pinpricked across his scalp before he was pulled the final two inches, his mouth slamming into Philippe’s.
Relief was instantaneous, but it was almost as quickly consumed by a hungry fire that was flaring out of control within him.
He’d missed the taste of Philippe, missed the confident thrust of his tongue, the haunting smell of him wrapping its way around their bodies to bind them together.
Rafe moaned and hungrily returned his kiss, meeting him thrust for thrust. With Philippe, there was the feeling of power pushing against him, threatening to surround him. Instinct demanded Rafe shove back, fight back, assert himself.
But there was a darker voice. An insidious whisper that he’d never allowed himself to listen to. It was begging him to let go. Allow Philippe to swamp him, overpower him. Give in.
With a moan, Rafe relented, relaxing on Philippe, and he was instantly rewarded with Philippe’s free hand clamping down on his hip and pulling him in even tighter.
They were pressed together from knees to lips.
The hand in Rafe’s hair eased and moved to caress the side of his neck.
Fingertips traced unerringly along the artery running there.
His cock finally overcame that last of his brain’s demands, sucking all his blood south. Rafe ground his hard-on against Philippe’s, sending fresh spikes of pleasure screaming through his body. He was in heaven, and he hadn’t removed a single article of clothing yet.
Philippe broke off the kiss and smiled. The hand on Rafe’s hip slipped around to grasp and massage one ass cheek. “You’re beautiful. Every inch of you is absolutely stunning.”
“I don’t think you’ve seen every inch of me yet.”
“Then let’s get started on that.”
Philippe released Rafe and took a couple of steps back. Cold air rushed in where his hot body had been, and Rafe ached for his touch. He very nearly reached for Philippe to pull him in close again, make him a part of his own body, but he closed his hands into fists at his side for a heartbeat.
Gaining control of himself, Rafe led the way to his bedroom. Philippe’s movement was completely silent, but Rafe could feel him again. It was like leading a tiger, all sleek sinew and deadly claws, waiting for the creature to pounce and rip him to shreds.
Rafe stopped beside the bed and turned toward Philippe, but the other vampire had walked past it and crossed to the center of the room.
He gazed about, seeming to take in the dark rosewood furniture and ornate rugs covering the marble floors.
Windows from nearly floor to ceiling covered two walls, showing the twinkling bright lights of the city beyond.
There were no toys lying about, but if that was the direction of Philippe’s interest, Rafe could happily supply some.
After several seconds, Philippe dropped into the heavily cushioned black leather chair in the corner.
He sank low and spread his legs wide so that Rafe could easily see the outline of his hard dick pressing against the front of his jeans.
Rafe started toward him, but Philippe held up a hand when he reached the center of the room, stopping him.
“Strip.”
Rafe blinked at the command, and Philippe smiled.
“I want to see all of you. Want to know if you’re as beautiful as I believe you to be.”
If Philippe wanted a show, Rafe had no problem being an exhibitionist. With a smile, Rafe stepped over to the long chest of drawers along one wall.
He toed out of his shoes while at the same time removing the gold cufflink at each wrist. Each one lightly pinged in a little glass dish on the bureau, the only sound in the room besides Rafe’s rapid heartbeat.
Returning to the center of the room, Rafe slowly unbuttoned his shirt under Philippe’s intense gaze.
The vampire didn’t move a muscle, but the glow in his green eyes seemed to grow brighter in the dimly lit room.
He pulled off his deep red shirt like a bullfighter waving his cape in front of a bull, allowing it to flutter to the floor.
As his hands dropped to his belt, his normally nimble fingers fumbled with the leather, struggling for a second.
His heart rate sped up under the weight of Philippe’s gaze.
It was as if phantom fingers danced along his flesh, caressing his pecs and teasing his nipples until they hardened in the cool air.
He’d spent plenty of time naked with others.
God, he’d sent endless, shameless selfies to his brothers of him with sleeping bed partners, but stripping before Philippe felt different. He was vulnerable and so damn alive.
Shoving the thought aside, Rafe forced his fingers to move.
He pulled the belt from his pants with an almost angry snap and threw it to the floor.
Attacking his pants, he pushed them down and kicked free.
He slowed in his movements long enough to peel off his socks, and then his hands were at the waistband of his tight black boxer briefs.
His cock was already pushing at the fabric, demanding to be set loose so that it could stretch toward Philippe and promised pleasure.
Placing a devilish smile on his lips, Rafe slowly lowered his briefs and stepped out of them. He stood on the thick rug, completely naked and open for Philippe’s perusal.
The other vampire didn’t move. Didn’t even seem to be breathing. His facial expression of intense concentration didn’t change.
Rafe fought to bring air into his lungs as he stood there under Philippe’s inspection.
Time stood still. Anxiety started to crawl along his flesh, and it became increasingly difficult to not move, not speak.
Why wasn’t Philippe saying anything? Was he disappointed?
Before Rafe removed his clothes, Philippe had been so sure he was beautiful. Was he not what Philippe wanted?
He sucked in a breath to make some joke, to finally break the suffocating tension, when Philippe suddenly shoved to his feet.
He crossed the room and came to stand only an inch away from Rafe.
The heat from the vampire brushed almost kittenlike along his skin, and he fought back a whimper at even that small touch.