59: The Intrusion

Quincy St. Martin

The traffic isn’t bad, and we reach the house in just over half an hour. The car goes through a brightly lit driveway that leads to a mansion. Everything around it, the grass, the palm trees, the hedges, and the flowers, are very well tended.

I’ve seen this place briefly from the street when Caspian took me up into the woods up on that little hill not far from here a few weeks ago. Up close, it’s even more beautiful and impressive.

Even Jorden and Jonah seem impressed as we stare around us after we climb out of the car.

The warm glow of lights greets us through big glass windows of the three-story, white-stucco structure. I can smell the ocean from here.

I don’t get much time to appreciate the view, though. Caspian steers me through big doors that open up to an equally impressive interior. He sweeps me through the house where I only manage to catch quick glimpses of a huge high-ceilinged open space, a gleaming tile floor, and glittering chandeliers.

“Where are you going? Aren’t you going to join us for a game of poker?” asks Constantine from behind us. He sounds amused.

Caspian doesn’t even answer him. He just stops long enough at the bottom of a grand staircase to pick me up.

“Caspian, where are we going? Put me down.” I struggle in his arms, and he puts me down when we reach the top floor.

The whole floor is very quiet and is bathed in a dim light.

“Where are we going, Caspian?” I ask as I break away from his grasp when he ushers me down the hall.

“To my room,” he answers.

“No, we’re not going to your room.” I move backward quickly, trying to put some space between us.

“Fine by me,” he says with a wolfish smile, showing me his white teeth and canines.

I keep moving backward, watching him warily as he keeps advancing toward me unhurriedly.

“I want to go back downstairs,” I tell him.

“Not yet.” He pushes me back, and suddenly I find myself lying on a deep white couch. He’s on top of me in a flash. His weight is pinning me down into the soft cushions.

I gulp nervously. My heart is galloping in my chest.

“Quincy, my Quincy,” he murmurs as he runs a finger down my cheek. “I’m furious with you, yet I crave you. I crave you to the point of obsession. What have you done to me, Quincy St. Martin?”

He growls before he buries his face into the curve of my neck. His whole body is covering mine, charging every neuron and nerve ending in my body with electricity. I grab a handful of his silky hair and pull. He lifts his head up a fraction, and I gasp at the wild and hungry look in his expression.

His eyes are dark and his canines are long and gleaming in the glow of the dim light.

His fingers grip the nape of my neck. “What does love mean to you, my love? Does it mean the same to you as it means to me?”

“Caspian…”

“If only you felt half the feeling I have for you… You wouldn’t want those other men. I would be enough for you.”

“Caspian, listen—”

“Shhhh, my love, I think I know what I have to do,” he says, bringing his warm lips down to my neck again while his hand is holding my head still. He rains hungry, wet open-mouthed kisses down my neck that send shivers down my spine. That actually feels so good. So very good.

I close my eyes, a loud moaning sound coming out of my mouth. He nibbles and sucks at the skin of my shoulder before his silky tongue laps at it. His hands are tracing the curves of my breasts, my waist, and my thighs then back up again to slip underneath my sweater.

I can only hear the thundering of our heartbeats together and our labored breathing.

“Caspian.” I moan as I wrap my arms and legs around him. I want him. I want him in me.

Suddenly he’s tensed above me. I stop moving under him to listen to footsteps coming from another room. He lifts his face up to sniff the air, and suddenly he jumps up.

His eyes darken, rage and fury coming out of him in waves.

I scramble to my feet when I see a woman coming out of another room, probably a bedroom. Her hair is tousled from sleep. Her eyes are big with shock as she stares at us.

Her tiny slip of lingerie is see-through.

I can smell her now. Sweet and flowery. A lycan. I could’ve smelled her before if I wasn’t so preoccupied with Caspian.