The Syphon King (Bayou Bishops #16)

Chapter FOUR

Zodak waited a full twenty minutes before finally going to get Zeen. Not seeing her in his room, he peeked into the bathroom, then made his way to the silent shower area. Flashes of her laying on the floor in blood sent him running in with his powers erupting through his body. His breath blasted at finding her asleep in the corner, her perfect angelic face softened in peace.

He lowered next to her and very carefully lifted her in his arms, his gift tearing through his touch sensory to feel her. He stood there, breathing her into him, her smell, her taste, her delicate vibrations. Such a little thing. He dared to hold her closer and removed his eye gates. Staring at her, he absorbed her being’s signature with a quiet, quantum precision, his breaths coming faster as he realized her whole being was defined with joy. Was this why he hadn’t put a dent in it? Or did giving it cause it to reproduce in her.

The idea of such a thing had his pulse racing with hunger.

He took in one more careful breath, pulling her gift inside him. Holy of wonders. She was a psychedelic drug that produced visions of sound and taste and color. He’d never experienced anything like it. His taste sensory fought to rip through his willpower as he made his way to his bed and laid her on it. He placed his lips on her forehead for a very brief eternity, feeling the dark stains on his mind sizzling with its own demands. He forced himself away, tearing his soul in half as he hurried out before the storm erupted and he took every drop of this everything heaven she’d begged him to take.

In his library he called Lore, scheduling the bio-ink operation for both of them. It would take him two days to perform and three for the extensive test-prep required. He opened the preliminary file King Thakx sent and went over everything for the pre-op. After the third page, his eyes burned with fatigue, and he pushed back in his chair.

“Will you be getting a tattoo?”

Zodak turned, finding his forbidden angel with her back against the doorway, gaze everywhere but on his. “Yes.”

“Where?” she wondered, looking down with her hands behind her back the image of innocence he needed to protect as much as he craved to devour.

“Over my right eye.”

This brought her direct gaze on him. Angry. “Your eye,” she balked. “Are you joking?” She regarded the grin he struggled to hide.

“No. This allows the information to be intercepted by my strongest gift which processes things faster.”

Her brows narrowed. “How much faster, a second? What difference could that possibly make? You see a spike in my emotions, and you’ll know I need a hug or something a fraction of a hair follicle sooner?”

Her tirade pummeled his greedy pores. She was becoming a supernova. He stood and made his way out, not wanting her to see how much he liked her this way or every other way. But at the door, the urge to touch her turned his legs into pillars of cement and he stopped. She aimed her gaze right up at him. His defiant, protective little raven. He slid his finger softly and very slowly over the side of her face, watching as he drew all the anger from her.

He snatched his hand away at seeing what came in its wake, but it was too late, his gift gobbled up her potent desire and hid it all in his newly awakened cock.

“Don’t touch me,” she said angrily after he walked off.

“It won’t happen again,” he swore, ready to pass out from the amount of lust flooding him.

“Good,” she muttered when he stood like a dumb statue in the kitchen. “Put the tattoo wherever you want, it’s your body, not mine. But I think it’s stupid and unnecessary.”

“Are you hungry?” he asked, looking for something to do with his brain besides watch the X-rated images it now dumped on him.

“Why? Are you cooking?”

The curious accusation added humor to the raging lust. “I can.”

“Good for you. I think I can, but I don’t really remember. I wasn’t going to say anything, but you over siphoned me and now I’m missing a lot of memories,” she said, her voice moving around like maybe she was pacing.

He pulled out ingredients for sandwiches, wondering over her one-eighty-degree turn. From bended-knee coddling servant to scolding vixen. He could find nothing but smiles for it since both behaviors were...angelic where she was concerned. And forbidden, he remembered when those lusts stirred and brought his tongue over the points of his teeth.

“You’ll just have to make more memories,” he said. “Do you like mayo and ketchup and mustard?”

“For what?”

“Ham sandwiches.”

“That’s a really weird food to cook. This an Arabic thing?”

She wanted to fight, and he wanted her to but why he did was not good. “I didn’t say I was cooking, I said I can cook. Do you want me to?”

“Not when you clearly prefer to make a sandwich, no. Just mustard.”

“Just mustard,” he mumbled, his body revved.

“At least I think that’s what I like. I can’t be sure.”

More accusations. She could have been doing any number of those X-rated things pinned against the walls of his mind judging by how her anger affected him. He wanted confrontation of all kinds and the many reasons he should forbid it were slipping through his fingers. “Would you like vegetables on your sandwich,” he called next.

“Vegetables? You mean lettuce and tomatoes?”

“Yes,” he answered, fighting not to laugh. She’d just colored him seven shades of stupid. Why did this give him joy? Because he liked her strong and fighting? He’d go with that for now.

He brought her food and set it on the table before the couch she now sat on. “Oh, you’re not feeding me?” She reached out and took the plate, bringing it onto her lap.

“Do you want me to?” he dared.

She angled her gorgeous eyes at him as he sat with his own sandwich on the sofa next to hers. She chewed her food, nodding at him then covering her mouth with a hand as she spoke with it full. “There goes the Muh-SAH-toe Zoe-dAHk.”

His chuckle erupted. “Muh-toe-sit.”

“It was close enough.”

“Did you have a bad dream, Zeen?”

“No, I had a good dream. It was the stuff before the dream that was muh-toe-sit. And his name is Zoe-dAHk.”

He set his food next to him, eyeing her.

“And I may not have memories, but I know it’s rude to wear dark shades over your eyes with people. You’re looking at me right in front of me, but I can’t see it. Like stalking me right in my face.”

It was surely the evil stains on his mind that reached up and removed the lenses and placed them on the couch. “Better?” he challenged, his freaky eyes having the same effect on her as they did on everybody.

“Much,” she said, her tone soft. She returned to her sandwich. “I know the thing I want from you.”

“To never take my gates off around you?”

“No, to never wear them around me.” She took a big bite and held his shocked gaze with raised brows, nodding again and shaking her finger at him. “Didn’t see that one coming, did you.”

No, he did not. “I told you I would give you anything that I could.”

She set her sandwich down and turned on the couch, beckoning to him with both hands. “Come on then. Let’s put this fear of yours to rest. You siphon me, and if I fall over shriveled and depleted, you win and wear your glasses and if I don’t, then you leave them off. No?” she asked at his shaking head. “Why not? It’s not gonna kill me. If I can be killed that easy, I wouldn’t be sitting here.”

He considered her words. They were true but why were they? “I don’t know enough about your gift to risk such a thing,” he decided, putting his lenses back on.

“How do you say coward in Arabic?”

His laugh came unbidden. “For you I will be anything I need to keep you safe, Zeen. Even a jah-bahn.”

“Then I want you to sleep with me,” she pushed with her petulance.

“I surely cannot give you this.”

“I guess you can’t kiss me either.”

“Why are you being muh-toe-sit to me Zeen?”

She set her plate down, licking her lips thoroughly, her eyes wide and prepared to blast him as soon as her mouth was free. “It’s called revenge!” she declared. “It’s what you do when—”

“I know what it means, Zeen. Why are you getting revenge on me.”

“Why else does revenge happen? You did an injustice to me, and you have to pay for it. I’m just a little girl next to you, all I have are my big mean words and you have your big mean...self,” she said, shooting her little hand at him, her dramatics bringing little sharp teeth to the lightening in his neurons.

“All the things you ask me for are not safe. If I sleep with you, I will surely fulfil all that is in my mind and if I kissed you, I would...”

He stood with his plate, focusing on making it to the kitchen.

“You’d what?” she cried as he went, like he’d ended a good story with a most despised cliffhanger.

He braced his palms on the counter as the charges in his body demanded release. He paced at the sink then paused. “This woman,” he marveled as she stormed in.

“Then I’ll take a foot massage.” She set her dish on the counter using both hands. “Can you handle that?”

He followed her out in disbelief. “Where is the shy, sweet, obedient girl I laid in my bed an hour ago?”

She sat herself roughly on the couch, crossing her arms and staring, her pretty face set with determination. She placed her feet on the table and pulled up the dress to her knees. “It was a yes or no question.”

He stared at the dainty feet, his hunger siphoning the sense from him as the storm brewed.

He didn’t have to look at her for that. And touch wasn’t the most potent mode for his gift.

What lies was he weaving? This had little to do with his gift and all to do with the taste of her desire still boiling in him. But answering her needs was far less of a risk than her answering his. He’d have more control if he did it.

More weaved lies. Two percent more control. If that.

Find a way.

Seer’s wise words dropped into the spiraling dark pit in his mind. It was either a ladder of hope or one of doom. The absolute barbaric need to touch her voted hope.

He walked over and straddled her legs as he sat on the table, lifting one of her feet by the ankle. He stared at how his large hand wrapped it then carefully stroked his fingers along the sole, getting a hard jerk and squeal.

“That tickles!”

“Too soft?” he wondered, using his nails instead.

She squeaked louder and tried to yank her foot free, but he held it tight. He was thoroughly lost to the immediate, odd turn in the road with her. “Massage, not tickle!”

He slid his thumbs firmly over the soles of her feet, getting a gasp then, “Yessss. Look at you, so smart!”

“You’re still calling me stupid, I see.”

“Oh my world,” she barely said, flopping her hands on the couch with her eyes closed. “I definitely want to get one of these daily for my gift.”

He laughed at her games. “That would be more than one gift, Zeen.”

“No, it’s one gift broken into pieces,” she lightly begged, the silky words making him ravenous.

“Shouldn’t I be the one receiving gifts?”

She gave a sharp gasp. “He has a brain after all! Name your price and unlike you I won’t limit you to if I can give it,” she mocked in his deep voice, bringing his chuckle while he focused on feeling her.

What could he possibly have from her that wouldn’t kill him or her?

“Are you thinking?”

“Yes,” he said.

“I can tell. Your touch is getting a little contemplative. Not the least seductive.”

What a delicious game she was playing with him. He had absolutely no experience with a woman but all the dark residue in his mind came with a high-definition road map to everything he never knew but wanted to know where she was concerned. And these visions he had of her were enough to incinerate every moral code he possessed.

“Make it good because you surely deserve it,” she mumbled, her moans putting sparks in his cock.

“Am I doing good, Zeen?” he asked, slowing his strokes.

“So good,” she barely said. “So good that I’m sorry I was being mean.”

He smiled, holding the heel of her foot in his hand and stroking the top of it now. “You were punishing me,” he reminded, moving to her ankles.

“I was,” she said on the barest moan. “You can...punish me back if you want.”

Heat filled him as he slid his fingers up to her shin then around her calf, lost to the soft silk of her. “I don’t want to punish you.”

“I know what I want for my gift,” she murmured, making him smile.

“This is your gift.”

“Well...can I have another one?”

“Are you wanting me to spoil you, Zeen?”

She gave another small moan. “Yes.”

Perfect answer. “Tell me.”

“I want you...to siphon something from me.”

He made exact contact with each finger, feeling her delicate perfection. “What do you want me to take from you?”

“Not take. Share.”

Share.

“Pleasure.”

His hands froze on her calf, and she covered them both with hers and moved them slowly up her leg.

“Zeen,” he whispered, his resistance nowhere to be found as she brought him all the way to her inner thigh. She pulled her dress up and opened her legs, the sight of her womanhood in black satin stealing his breath.

“Make me feel good, Zo-dAHk,” she begged quietly, her breaths edged with the desire he’d seen in her eyes. “I need you to make me feel good.”

That was it. The exact gift he wanted. And it was his kryptonite.

He set her foot down and scooped her up in his arms. His own cravings demanded he take her to his bed and meet all the needs he heard in her silky words. Warnings blared. If he took her to his room, he’d go too far, this he was sure of.

He sat with her on the couch. “Hold on to my neck, Zeen. And don’t let it go.” He lowered every single one of his ocular gates, praying what she gave him so freely didn’t slip past. “You will obey this?”

She stared right into his lens. “Will you look at me?” she asked, her brows begging with her sweet voice as she clung to him.

“I cannot look yet, goo-rah-bee,” he said, moving her dress up. Not into her powerful, alluring gaze that he couldn’t resist. “But I will surely see you in every other way.”

The moment he exposed her creamy perfection and the triangle of ebony satin, his muscles clenched with rage at the many odd-shaped scars covering her inner thighs.

“Am I... pretty, Zodak?”

The fear in her voice brought his hunger in a low growl as he hooked his fingers in the delicate material and tugged it down. “More beautiful than all that is deemed beautiful, my Zeen,” he swore, her frantic breaths waking the powers he used in battles.

She opened herself wide, pushing her succulent bottom into the rod of his cock, the assault drawing another growl. With his middle finger he felt her with the barest touch. “You are decadent silk, Zeen,” he marveled, staring at the sight of her thrusting hips as her scent made him ravenous.

“Please,” she whispered. “Inside me, Zodak. I want you in every part of me.”

Her words stole his mind and breath as he slid his finger into her body, another growl rolling through him. “Jah-mee-lah,” he said in awe.

“Yes,” she moaned, reaching for more with her hips.

“My Obsession is so hungry.” He went all the way to the very bottom, earning her lusty mouth on his neck as she pushed into his unbearably hard cock. “Zeen,” he breathed, feeling her lips and tongue on him, tugging and pinching sweetly along the door of his surrender. “You are tasting me.”

She moved her hot mouth to his ear. “Make love to me Zodak,” she pled. “You don’t have to look at me.”

Make love. The foreign term put his powers in a spin while he explored her heavenly depths, eyeing the little gem between her folds with a wicked lust. The need to engage his taste had him on his knees before her and opening her wide.

“Zodak!” she shot out, grabbing hold of his head as he lifted her bottom and lowered to her boiling treasure.

“Zeen,” he said astonished as he traced along the silk of her womanhood with a precise lick. Her taste and scent were otherworldly and turned his neurons into shooting stars that lit him up. He greedily absorbed the miracle and hid it in the deepest part of himself.

“Zodak!” she cried when he licked her gem with the tip of his tongue, the metal sensor amplifying her pleasure.

He gripped her perfect bottom tightly in his hands and lashed at her hot flesh, every erotic sound making him desperate for all of her. His breath blasted through his lungs as he jerked her against his mouth and thrust his tongue deep inside, wanting to consume her.

“Yes!” she panted, raking fire along the biosensors in his scalp’s ink. The explosion of sensation brought the tips of his fingers digging into her plump muscle. “Zodak, don’t stop, oh please.”

Her begs called more power, vicious and hungrier as he returned to her clit. He drew it into a milking suck that broke the dam holding back a most intense pleasure. It moved through her, its violent energy a lightning through her atoms. The erotic storm brought her nails piercing his scalp sensors. His defense mechanism triggered and turned his teeth into weapons. He jerked his head away from her, meeting the softness of her inner thigh. His lust opened wide, and he filled his mouth with her flesh then released upon her scream.

He stood, his breaths full-on growls as he stared down at her, his prey he needed to consume. “Forgive me,” he shot out, hurrying away before he consumed every bit of her.