“I...mmmhhh...I...” She attempted to catch her breath. She kept her eyes closed. All the muscles in her body visibly relaxed from enjoyment. “I can’t say it.”
He chuckled. “Yes, you can.” He crawled up the bed, lingering over her body, only inches separating them.
She opened her eyes and met his gaze.
He leaned down and kissed her deeply, digging a hand into the damp tresses of her gorgeous hair. He pulled away, but only far enough to speak. His lips brushed against hers as he said, “I’ll do anything you want. Never be too shy to ask.”
She lifted her hand to his face and ran her fingertips across his cheek.
“Anything,” he repeated.
A blush colored her cheeks, but fire filled her amber eyes. “I want you inside me.”
He growled, nipping at the soft skin of her neck before he took her breast into his mouth. His tongue circled over one sweet hard nipple, then the other. He took care to pay equal attention to both her delicious breasts. She sighed, relaxing against him.
When he released her nipple from his mouth, he positioned himself outside her entrance. Her eyes widened, and a mixture of emotions crossed her face.
“Don’t be nervous.” He smiled down at her. “I’ll take good care of you.”
He eased himself inside her, and she whimpered with pleasure. Damon moaned. She was so tight. So unbelievably tight. He’d never wanted anything more than he wanted this. He wanted to drive himself deep inside her, pounding hard into her until she pulsed against him. Being inside her, being so close to taking her hard and aggressively, was like sweet torture. The thought of her screaming his name nearly drove him over the edge.
With slow movements he rocked into her as gently as he could, careful not to penetrate too deeply. But she caught him off guard. Her walls clenched around him, and she was already teetering on the brink of climax.
Damn. His whole body shook as he fought to hold himself back.
White-hot moisture flooded her tight opening. She threw back her head and moaned, eagerly meeting his every thrust as she peaked.
He gripped the headboard with one hand to brace himself. In all his time hunting and training, nothing he’d faced could compare to the difficulty of holding back from ravishing her.
Keep your cool. This is about her.
He whispered against her ear. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I’m in heaven.” She let out another moan and pushed against him. “Like I want every inch of you deep inside me. Like I want you hard and deep.”
He clenched his teeth. Everything in him wanted the same. “If you keep teasing me, I might not be able to hold myself back, and I don’t want to hurt you.” He kissed her forehead.
With a devious grin, she ground her hips into him.
Damn and double damn!
He nearly lost it right then and there. Couldn’t she see how hard he was trying to exercise restraint?
He stroked his fingers over her cheek and pushed into her. “You’re playing with fire. I don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into.”
She bit her lower lip in a “come and take me” look and ground into him again.
“Tiffany...!” All the muscles in his body strained, and he gasped for air.
Before he could stop her, she kissed him hard and ran her hands over the muscles of his chest. When she pulled away, she smiled and shot him a seductively playful look. “I
do
know what I’m getting myself into, and I want you deep inside me. Hard and fast.”
If she really wanted it, he would give it to her. He lightly bit her ear. She whimpered, and goose bumps prickled across her skin. “Anything you ask.”
* * *
Within seconds, Tiffany found herself flipped and lying on her stomach, and she marveled at Damon’s strength and power. He gripped her by the hips and pulled her up toward him. Her ass ground against his hips as he positioned himself outside her slick hot entrance he had withdrawn from only seconds before.
He thrust into her, harder than she expected. She cried out. The pressure as he filled her was amazing. She’d been scared of her first time. She’d been scared of the pain, the bleeding and the embarrassment of lying naked beneath someone’s eyes. But Damon had destroyed all those fears with the intense hunger behind his eyes.
He wanted her, but he was man enough to take his time with her, preparing her for his possession. As she’d expected, there had been a flash of pain, but she’d been prepared for it. What she hadn’t anticipated was so much pleasure.
“How deep do you want me, Tiffany?”
She shivered. The sound of him saying her name sent every nerve in her body into spasms of arousal.
“However deep you want me.”
The pressure of his fingers on her hips tightened, exciting her.
He ran a hand down the length of her spine. “Don’t tempt me. I might not be able to hold back.”
She inhaled a deep breath. She wanted to hear his pleasure. Wanted him to cry out her name. She was ready. She turned her head to look at him, narrowed her eyes and challenged him. “Try me.”
The fire in Damon’s eyes blazed, gorgeous and intimidating in its intensity. He let out a dark chuckle. The grin that crossed his face was devious, and sexy as hell. “You asked for it.”
He thrust into her so deeply that her whole body lurched forward. She cried out and moaned, bracing her hands against the headboard as he pounded into her. His strength was incredible. Her core stretched wide to take the full length of him. Wave after wave of white-hot need pulsed through her.
“Damon!” she screamed. Her legs shook, and she fought not to collapse beneath him. Her core slickened with wetness and heat. Holy smokes. The man was a sex god—she was sure of it.
Damon palmed her breasts as he continued to thrust deep inside her. Her walls pulsed against him, clenching. The pressure inside her built until she teetered on the brink of ecstasy, the pleasure so intense it was almost too much.
Damon rolled her right nipple between his fingers. The tips of both breasts tightened into taut peaks, tingling beneath his touch. “Tell me what you want,” he demanded.
“You,” she said. “I want you.” The words came out as a breathless whisper.
“Louder.”
She raised her voice. “I want you.”
Pulling harder, he thrust into her with every ounce of his strength. Her whole body shook as he brought her to the brink.
“Louder,” he growled.
“I want you!”
She screamed and Damon let out a harsh groan. With another massive thrust, she clenched against him as wave after wave of ecstasy crushed her. He pumped into her. There was nothing but Damon. His touch, his scent, the feeling of him buried deep within her. She wanted to drown in him and never resurface. She fell onto the bed, unable to hold herself up against the weight of him any longer. He collapsed next to her and pulled her into his arms. She snuggled into his chest and he kissed her forehead, before stroking his fingers through her hair.
She’d never known such sweet bliss.
Her body relaxed into his and within moments she was drifting into sleep.
CHAPTER 7
Damon lay on his bed wide-awake as Tiffany slept peacefully with her head nestled against his chest. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid eyes on.
And his best friend’s baby sister.... God help him.
What had he done? He’d told himself he wasn’t going to get emotionally involved in this mission, but sleeping with a woman under your protection was one hell of a way to keep work separate from pleasure. He’d told himself he wouldn’t touch Mark’s baby sister. Well, he’d done a lot more than touch her.
He let out a long sigh. What was wrong with him?
He glanced down again at the beautiful woman lying against him. He knew what was wrong with him. She was everything he wanted in a woman. She was strong, fierce, intelligent, passionate and beautiful. Any man would be lucky to have her, yet here she was in bed with him—a killer. He made his living off destroying things. Granted, he fought monsters and sometimes that saved lives, but it didn’t change the fact that being successful at his job meant being ruthless, cold and bloodthirsty. When emotions entered the mix, that was when missteps crept in and innocents died. That was when good men like Mark died.
What kind of a lowlife was he that he’d gone to bed with Mark’s sister? Mark had trusted him to write to her with no idea of the consequences. No matter which way he looked at it, there was no justification for what he’d done. Even as they’d made love he’d tried to convince himself that Mark would have wanted Tiffany to be protected. That he would have wanted her to find a man who could defend her and care for her to stand at her side. Maybe at one point that man
could
have been him. But after all he’d done, everything that had happened, it certainly wasn’t him now.
He stroked the soft tresses of her hair and watched the rise and fall of her chest.
Stunning.
He shook his head. What was she doing with someone like him?
A lump lodged in his throat as he thought of the last words in the final letter she’d sent him. They were burned permanently into his mind and his heart.
I don’t know how you can miss a person you’ve never met, but somehow, I miss you every day.
With love,
Tiffany xoxox
He knew that after Mark’s death the Execution Underground had given her as many details as they could, to help her achieve closure, which meant she knew he could’ve saved Mark, but he failed. There was no way she didn’t know. She’d never answered a single one of his letters after that.
Careful not to wake her, he slipped out from beneath her and rested her head on one of his pillows. He made quick work of throwing on some clothes before he headed downstairs. They’d slept most of the day away, and now, with sundown not far away, his work day was about to start.
He thought of the time he’d spent with Tiffany last night. Already he’d been neglecting his job, making love to her instead of closing in on Caius or searching for the vampire who was killing innocent women. There were so many things wrong with this situation. Images of partially devoured corpses, the awakening bloodsucker’s kidney exploding with green acid and the way the vamp in the alley had guarded the body, flooded his mind.
He punched in the security code for his tech room, and the heavily reinforced door unlocked. He shoved it open, stepped into the room, flopped into his chair and dialed Chris’s number. The monitor beeped on, and Chris stepped in front of the camera.
“Hey, man—”
Damon interrupted him. “Green acid came out of his kidney.”
Chris’s eyes widened. “What? Whose—”
“After you told me about the killing I went and located the body. The guy was in his thirties, fit, already drunk from, and chewed up like the girl was, only his arm this time. Then a vamp jumped from the shadows and started guarding the body like it was a three-course meal.”
Chris shook his head. “This is fucked up, Damon.”
Damon nodded. “It gets worse—and stranger, too. There was an abnormal amount of blood left at the scene, wasted, which a newly turned vampire wouldn’t even be capable of leaving. They’d be way too hungry. The vamp that attacked us was newly turned, which means it wasn’t the one who took the guy out. Baby bloodsuckers don’t have that much strength.”
Chris ran a hand through his short blond hair. “What do we do next?”
Damon held up a hand. “There’s more. After the vamp was dead, I brought the victim’s corpse back here to examine. His kidney had green acid in it, too. It nearly burned my damn hand off.”
Chris started pounding at his keyboard. “That’s not normal, Damon. That’s bad, really bad.”
“That’s not all.”
Immediately Chris stopped typing and looked at Damon.
“The dead guy turned into a vamp an hour later. Had to stab him in the heart. He exploded like a blood bag.”
Chris’s mouth fell open. “Only an hour later? That’s barely a fraction of the normal transformation period. You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Damon leaned forward. “Wish I was.”
Chris buried his face in his hands. “And to add fuel to the fire, I got in five new reports for your area last night.”
Five?
Rage filled Damon’s chest, and his hands clenched into fists. “What?”
Chris raised his head. “It’s not what you think. Not vamp news.”
Damon sat in silence, waiting for Chris to elaborate.
Chris let out a long sigh and swore. “I hate to tell you this, but Rochester is swamped with supernatural predators. There are reported werewolf sightings, possibly a full-on pack, there are demons lodged so deep the people they’ve possessed are pretty much done for, there are several small witch covens, loads of non-werewolf shifters—oh, and that’s not even including all the poltergeists and ghosts reported in the old abandoned asylum.”
They both sat in silence, uncertain what to say. Words couldn’t express what deep shit Damon was in. Welcome to Rochester.
Chris cleared his throat and broke the silence. “You know you can’t handle all that on your own.”
Damon clenched his teeth and slammed his fist onto the desk. He wasn’t ready to lead another division, not given the way he’d failed Mark. But the laundry list of supernatural waste Chris had just dished out was far more than any hunter could handle on his own. The Execution Underground trained all their members to deal with a variety of supernatural creatures, but then headquarters assigned each hunter a species and conditioned them into elite specialists. Damon excelled across the board and was one of the few who’d been granted their choice of specialization. But none of that would do him any good in hunting other beasts full-time. There were too many. Per his choice, hunting vampires was his only true purpose.
He clenched his fists, and fought down his frustration and anger. “Send me a list of prospective hunters for every type of monster we have in the city. I’ll look through them, pick a team and put in a request to headquarters.”
He wanted to bash his fist into a wall. He’d thought coming to Rochester would let him work alone, since there were no other hunters in the area and until now there hadn’t been all that much paranormal activity. But not even New York City was drowning in as many supernatural predators as Rochester suddenly was. He’d landed in the exact situation he’d been trying to avoid: being the lead hunter of an entire division.
“You got it,” Chris said. “But let’s focus on one thing at a time. I ran those samples, but I was only able to determine one thing. Something caused a mutation in the vampire’s saliva, which probably means the vampires themselves have morphed into something new. The weird thing is that the mutation has a lot of similarities to a human virus.”
If Damon had been a more lighthearted man, he might have laughed. “The vampires are sick?”
“Yes. I think somehow they’re passing around some sort of virus, and that’s causing the strange behaviors you described. But based on the change in their DNA, I think it’s only being passed on to newly turned vamps. Maybe it has to happen at the moment when a new vamp is made, and that’s why the old ones can’t get it. I have no idea what the original source could be, though. Does any of this fit what you’re thinking?”
Damon ran his hand over his hair. “Not sure. If the vampires have a virus, the weird behaviors make sense. But what about the dead guy turning so quickly? It only took an hour for him to turn and regular vampire gestation is at least a month, sometimes longer, when buried in the ground. He shouldn’t have changed that quickly.”
Chris started typing again. “The virus could be causing a genetic mutation in their makeup and speeding up the transformation process.”
Damon rested his head in his hands. “So we have sick vampires running around who are mutating into zombielike monsters. But that doesn’t explain why a newborn vampire would leave blood. Once a baby vamp bites, it doesn’t detach until the person’s drained, and this guy wasn’t.”
Chris gave a single nod.
Damon finished his thought. “But a stronger vamp could do that.”
Chris stared at him. “You’re thinking an older vamp is killing these people and then feeding the leftovers to the baby zombie vamps?”
If an older vampire was controlling younger ones within the Rochester city limits, there was a clear culprit. Damon and Chris exchanged knowing looks. They didn’t need to say it aloud to know they were on the same page.
Caius Argyros Dermokaites.
* * *
Tiffany yawned and stretched as her eyes flickered open. She blinked away the sleep from her vision and rolled over. Sitting up in bed, she glanced around the bedroom. No Damon. She flopped back into the pillows and let out a long sigh.
Holy smokes, the things they’d done...
A sweet ache pulsed through her core. The slight soreness was just enough to remind her of every move they’d made between the sheets. She’d never thought she would have been capable of anything even close. A small smile crept over her face.
She’d never thought her first time would be with a strong handsome hunter, though if she’d been the kind of girl to daydream of the perfect man, Damon or someone like him—someone like B—would have been the star of her fantasies. The members of the Execution Underground were brave warriors, the soldiers of the supernatural world, and Damon embodied everything the E.U. stood for. He was strong, intelligent, skilled, ruthless and passionate. Wow. She’d never been one for the sappy stuff, but the thought of the night they’d spent together gave her butterflies.
She stood and stripped one of the sheets from the bed. Wrapping it around herself, she padded down the stairs. She went into the laundry room and pulled her clothes from the dryer, checking them over. Still mildly stained with blood. No surprise there, but it would have to do. She dropped the sheet and threw on her clothes before heading into the living room in search of Damon. Who wasn’t there, or in the kitchen.
Where the heck was he?
She heard a heavy door closing, and moments later he emerged from the downstairs hallway with a scowl twisting his face.
“Did someone spit in your coffee?” she said.
Without a word, he flopped down onto the sofa and buried his head in his hands.
Tiffany raised a brow. “Okay, then. No ‘hope you slept well after that crazy time we had.’” She dropped her hands to her sides with a slight humph. Was she an idiot to expect a little sweetness? Given how tender he’d been earlier...
“Is this city really overrun with supernaturals?” he asked, lifting his head from his hands.
She blinked several times. “What?”
He let out a long breath. “According to H.Q., this city is overrun with supernatural predators. Way more than just vampires. Is that right?”
She nodded. “Yeah, pretty much. Mark never taught me anything about hunting supernaturals other than vamps, though, so I stay clear of the others.” She walked to the couch and sat down beside him.
He glanced toward her. “How do you know they’re here, then?”
She grinned. “Once you know of the existence of supernaturals, it doesn’t take a trained hunter to spot one. You know how it is. It might be a flash of a wolf eye here or there, or just a strange feeling when you encounter someone. I’ve learned never to ignore my instincts.”
A moment of silence passed between them. She waited for him to speak. When he didn’t, she finally cleared her throat and asked, “Why does it matter?”
“I need to assemble a division of hunters.”
Her eyes widened. “So you mean there’s going to be a whole load of you guys here in Rochester now?”
He nodded. “Five others.” He got up off the couch and walked across the room. His demeanor matched his distant tone.
She knew he had a lot on his mind, but after last night she...well...she wasn’t really sure what she’d expected, but more than this, anyway. Damon’s skills between the sheets made the guys in the romance novels she read look like bumbling idiots. But out of bed, cold and distant was his default setting.
“What’s so bad about that? About bringing in other hunters?”
Damon ignored her question. “We’ve got worse things to worry about. The results of the samples I sent to headquarters arrived. The bloodsuckers have some sort of virus they’re passing between them. That’s what’s making them act like zombies and causing their victims to turn so quickly.”
Tiffany whistled low and long. “That is
not
good. How are they passing it around?”
He shook his head. “No idea. But it seems the vamps contract the disease at transition. Chances are it started from one vamp who turned someone and continued from there. I don’t know how or why, much less how to stop it, but I have to find out.”
“If it keeps spreading, won’t the entire vampire population be overrun with these freak zombie leeches?”
Again Damon didn’t respond. His stare was fixed and distant, and she could tell he was lost in thought. Suddenly he snapped back to attention. “If we find the source of the virus and destroy it, then we can go after all the spawn. We think the current existing vamps can’t contract it, since they’re already turned. I think one of the old ones is behind this, though—creating an army of monsters to destroy, maybe to gain more power in the vamp world, and make hunting humans easier, as well—and I think I know who it is.”