“So, he did take her,” I said.
“Yes, he told her he could facilitate an introduction. He promised her an engagement with someone she thought was more attractive. You are aware of her tastes, aren’t you? You do seem uncomfortable. Are you sure you won’t take off your coat?”
It was hard to speak. My voice came out almost in a gasp. “She fancied herself a dominatrix.” Sweat rolled down my neck. I shrugged out of the jacket. His eyes fell from my face and fixed on my chest.
“Just so.” Ashvial was panting, leaning forward in his chair. “She thought she was meeting someone else, but when she arrived, Johansson took her. She was sold that night. I can only imagine how lovely you must be in your natural state. I’ve never understood humans’ obsession with clothing.”
He stood and ripped his shirt open, dropping the rags to the floor. Ghostly hands ran over me, brushing my breasts, lightly rubbing between my legs. My shirt and bra were soaked.
I stared at the muscles of his chest and abdomen, unable to take my eyes off him. “Who did he sell her to?”
He stepped closer to me, reaching out and carefully unbuttoning my shirt. I knew I should stop him but couldn’t find the will to do so. When he finished with the last button, he slipped a claw between my breasts and sliced the bra in half. He jerked my shirt open and down over my shoulders, baring me to him. Those ghostly hands stroked me. My back arched, and I pushed my chest toward him, my breasts tightening into hard balls. In spite of myself, I wanted him to take me, to relieve the incredible tension building inside me.
“Magnificent,” Ashvial said. “Truly magnificent.”
The tent in his pants drew my attention. An ache of longing, of need, caused me to moan. The muscles in my thighs began to quiver. A wave of pleasure rose inside me, and I felt like I would explode, unable to hold all the lust he poured into me. My entire body felt like it was on fire. It felt so good it was painful.
“Akiyama Benjiro.”
He reached down and ran a single finger between my legs. An electric shock hit me there and spread through my body. I bucked, writhing and moaning as my orgasm overwhelmed me. Dimly, I saw Ashvial stagger backward, bumping into his desk. He let out a cry, his breath coming in great heaves. My mind went blank, and I lay on the chaise, shuddering uncontrollably. The world shrank to my body and the pleasure flooding into my brain.
The next thing I knew, someone’s hands pulled at me, arms embraced me, images of a face wreathed in golden hair flashed in front of me.
“Come on,” Kirsten’s voice in my ear. “Come on, stand up. We need to get you out of here.”
She pulled me to my feet and practically dragged me to the door. My knees felt liquid. Ashvial’s fire pulsed through me, triggering burst after burst of sensation in my groin.
“Hold out your arm.” She managed to get me into my jacket and button it up. Then she pulled me out into the hall.
I glanced back once and saw Ashvial still leaning against his desk, staring at me with red, glowing eyes. He didn’t attempt to follow us.
I managed the trip out of the club and to the garage in a haze. By the time we reached the car, I was walking on my own. Other than a fuzzy feeling, like being awakened too early, I was able to focus again and see the world around me.
As Simone drove us out of the garage, Kirsten laughed. “Man, that was the most awesome thing I’ve ever seen. I don’t know if I should shower in that stuff and go visit him, or just send you in there again. I think you might have turned me into a voyeur.”
Taking a deep breath, I shook my head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t think I should do that again. Ever. That was a lot more intense than last time. Too much. Just way too much.”
Kirsten glanced toward me, the expression on her face serious and a little concerned. “Yeah,” was all she said.
Chapter 37
While taking a shower the following morning, I tried to figure out my priorities. I needed to speak with Whittaker about the Benning girl and Akiyama Benjiro. I also had to get my grandmother alone and tell her about the DNA analysis. But I decided the first thing I needed to deal with was Ashvial and the pull—the attraction—I felt for him. Not at all healthy. Hell, not at all sane. And the person who might be able to help me with that was my mother.
I called Whittaker and made an appointment to see him that afternoon, then called my insurance, and prodded them a little about my destroyed bike.
I fired up my old cycle and took off for Loch Raven. When I got off the freeway, I stopped and gave my guardians directions for where they should wait. My mom wouldn’t have been at all happy with me if I dragged a bunch of people along.
When I parked the bike and dismounted, Mom opened her front door and stood there leaning against the frame.
“And to what do I owe another visit so soon?” she asked.
I approached her and kissed her on the cheek. “I need to ask you some things about my elven heritage.”
“Ah. Have you eaten breakfast yet?”
She led me inside and brewed a pot of tea while she placed fresh scones and her homemade berry jam on the table.
“And what do you want to know?”
I buttered a scone and slathered it with jam. “I was told, and I quote, that ‘the Fae experience emotions far more deeply than humans.’ Is that true?”
She cocked her head to the side and studied me, then sighed. “Dani, you
