Bittersweet Blood (25 page)

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Authors: Nina Croft

Tags: #Fiction, #Paranormal, #The Order, #Romance, #General, #demons, #Detective, #private investigator, #demon hunter, #paranormal romance, #Nina Croft, #Vampires, #dark paranormal, #secret powers, #romance series

Sliding his hands behind her, he cupped her bottom and lifted her against the hard length of him. She wrapped her legs around his waist, rubbing her core against his erection, until the hot, wet heat of her arousal soaked through the constricting layers of clothing between them.

He carried her to the huge desk, placing her down almost gently. His hands went to her waist, unsnapped her jeans, slid the zipper down. She kicked off her shoes, lifted her hips from the desk, and he tugged her pants down her legs and tossed them on the floor.

He paused, stroking a thumb over her lower lip. “Are you in there?” he asked.

She nodded. The fire of the alcohol burned in her blood but she was back in her head.

“Good.”

He stepped back, peeled off his own pants and stood before her naked, his long hard shaft vertical against his belly. He was so beautiful her breath caught in her throat. She reached out and he came to her. Her fingers trailed through the black, silky hair of his belly, then wrapped around the length of him. His skin was soft and smooth over a steel hard core. She squeezed him hard; his head fell back, and he groaned.

“Give me your throat.”

Tara tilted her head and closed her eyes as his fangs sank into the vein. The blood pulsated through her body, throbbing between her legs. His hand moved between her thighs and she moaned. He played with her as he fed, slipping long fingers into the swollen wetness at her core, withdrawing and gliding damp fingertips over her sex, rubbing over the tight little bud that threatened to explode with pleasure. She writhed against him, pushing against his hand, but he held her still with ease. Finally, he licked her neck and drew back.

His hand left her sex and he cupped her breasts and pushed her down so her back rested against the smooth, cool steel of the desk. He played with her nipples, which sent sparks shooting through her body. His hands gripped her knees and parted her thighs so she lay open to him. Lowering his head, he swiped his tongue across her sex and she jerked beneath him. He came up over her and filled her with one lunge of his hips.

“Is this what you want, little demon?”

She bucked under him, but he remained still until she thought she would explode with frustration.

Finally, he slowly withdrew then pushed hard into her, grinding his hips, and she threw back her head and screamed as her orgasm ripped through her.

“More?” he murmured in her ear.

Without waiting for an answer, he drove into her, each thrust sending her higher, and all she could do was hold on tight. Wrapping her legs around his waist, her hands gripped tight to his shoulders and she gave herself up to the savagery of his lovemaking. He cupped her bottom and his movements became even wilder until he slammed into her mercilessly.

She balanced at a strange point between pleasure and pain when his movements slowed. He gathered her in his arms, holding her tight and rocking her against his body as his cock slid into her then withdrew, only to return.

He went still and she opened her eyes to find him staring down at her, his expression fierce and gentle.

“Mine,” he whispered against her lips. He thrust once more and spilled them both over the edge.


For a moment, Christian thought Tara had passed out. Her eyes were closed, her long lashes fluttering against her creamy cheek. Her mouth was slightly parted and he could see her pink tongue and the whiteness of her small teeth. He carried her to the sofa and laid her on the soft leather.

She opened her eyes as he came down beside her. They were filled with wonder.

“I love you,” she said.

His mind ceased to function. Her hand came up to stroke his cheek, her touch so soft. He turned his head and kissed her palm.

“I don’t want you to worry that I’ll make a nuisance of myself,” she said. “I won’t, but I wanted you to know. If anything happens to either of us, I’d hate it if I hadn’t told you.”

“Nothing will happen,” he growled. “I won’t let anything happen.”

“It’s strange, but after Aunt Kathy died, I sort of swore I would never love anyone again, but it’s not that easy.”

She loved him.

He didn’t think that anyone in his whole long existence had ever really loved him. He’d been fond of his wife, but the marriage had been arranged, and love hadn’t come into it. Since he’d been changed, he’d had brief affairs but he’d never allowed them to be more than that. In the end, the humans he fed from and slept with were left without choice, puppets to his every command. How could love grow there?

Tara loved him. She wasn’t human. He couldn’t overcome Tara’s mind. He could never control her actions. If she came to him, it was of her own free will.

Love came at a price, as Tara already knew. His mind flashed back to her friend, Chloe. Saw again her tortured body and imagined Tara in her place. Pain ripped through him. He must have flinched because her eyes flashed to his face.

“What’s wrong?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.” He vowed that he would keep her safe, protect her from those that meant her harm, whatever the cost. “Nothing,” he said again. He grinned. “You love me?”

She nodded.

He wrapped his arms around her and rolled her so she sprawled across his body. She wriggled and his cock stiffened between them. She rubbed her sweet little hips against him until he was rock hard, his balls aching for release. His hands on her ass, he positioned her until his cock slid inside her hot, slippery opening. He sighed as she settled on him. Accommodating to his size, she started to move, and he gave himself up to the pleasure.

Chapter Twenty-Four

She’d told him she loved him.

It was the first thought that entered Tara’s mind as she woke to the bright light of day. She was in a bed but had no memory of how she’d got there. Christian must have brought her after the last time they made love.

He wasn’t with her, but how could he be with the sunlight pouring through the open blinds. She was in the penthouse, and far below her Christian would be sleeping away the day. She concentrated and felt the faint hum of his presence in her mind.

She’d told him she loved him.

She couldn’t get it out of her head, and while he hadn’t said he loved her in return, he had shown it with his every action. He had made love to her so sweetly and with such intensity, it had made her cry.

At the back of her mind welled a deep, residual sorrow for Chloe. It would probably always be with her, but a sense of excitement for the future now overlaid her grief. A future with Christian.

So he was a vampire, but she was half-demon and half-fae. They would never have a normal life, but so what? They would have a life. Christian had promised he would keep her safe, and she trusted him.

Still, she wasn’t going to sit back and let him do everything alone. He would keep her safe but she planned to do the same for him.

Rolling over, she encountered something soft and warm. It was Smokey, and Tara pulled his body against her as she had so many mornings of her life. He purred and her fingers smoothed the soft fur of his head.

Beneath the sheet, she was naked, and it flashed through her mind just what Smokey was. Or rather who he was. She shrugged—he’d seen her naked so many times, it hardly mattered. Sitting up, she tugged the sheet over her breasts and pulled Smokey on to her lap. He stared into her face, his eyes unblinking.

“You and I are going to have a chat very soon,” she said. “I’ll give you some leeway, because I know you’re grieving for Chloe, but prepare yourself. You’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”

She hugged him to her until he meowed, and she let him go. He jumped off her lap but settled on the bed and licked his paws.

There was a tap at the door and it opened, revealing Graham standing in the doorway. He was dressed in a pair of black silk pajama bottoms and nothing else. They hung low on his narrow hips. Tara gave him a brief glance then looked away.

“I thought I heard voices,” he said.

“I was talking to my cat.”

“The elusive Smokey, turned up at last. When did he show?”

“Last night,” she said, not wanting to get into a discussion on the subject.

“I’m glad, I know you were worried. Do you want a coffee?”

Tara nodded. She made to get out of bed but remembered her lack of clothing.

“Don’t get up,” Graham said. “Christian told me to look after you. He said you’d had a rough night. So wait right there.” He paused at the door. “I’ve got to ask, but what was with the whole lock down thing last night?”

She shrugged. “We were practicing safe sex.”

“Right, don’t tell me then.”

Graham returned shortly with two steaming mugs of coffee. Tucked under his arm was the matching top to his pajama bottoms. He put the drinks on the table by the bed and handed Tara the top.

“I sense you’d be happier covered up, though you don’t have to worry about me. You’re not my type. Now, that nice friend of yours—Jamie wasn’t it—he disappeared last night before we had the chance to get to know one another, but if you want to set us up, I wouldn’t complain.”

“I’ll do that.” Tara struggled into the top under cover of the sheet while Smokey squinted up at her through narrowed, yellow eyes.

“Anyway,” Graham said, “Christian wouldn’t let me stay here with you if he thought I’d make you uncomfortable.”

“Just what are you doing here? I thought you had your own place.”

“I do, but Christian doesn’t think it’s safe at the moment, so I’ll stay here till he gives me the all clear.”

He picked up one of the coffees and handed it to Tara, then sat on the bed next to her, long legs stretched out, and picked up his own.

The coffee was still too hot, but Tara breathed in the wonderful, aromatic scent.

“I only saw Christian briefly,” Graham said. “It was nearly dawn when he brought you up here. Did you find out anything useful?”

Tara took a sip of her coffee. “I’m not human.”

It felt good to say it aloud. To know that there were people in this new world that she could talk to.

Graham put down his drink and studied her. “So what are you?”

“Half-demon.”

He didn’t seem shocked. “And the other half?”

“Fae.”

“Wow, I’ve never heard of that before. So are you expecting to turn red and grow horns anytime soon?”

“Do demons have horns?”

“Not always, but some of the fae do.”

“I think I would have grown them by now, if I was going to.” She took another sip of coffee and frowned. “I hope I would have anyway.”

“You know, they’re not all bad—demons I mean. In case you’re worried that you’re half-monster or something.”

“Actually, I’m worried that I’m all monster, but I’m trying not to think about it too much.”

“Christian will look after you.”

A flicker of irritation pricked her. “I don’t want to be looked after. I want to be able to look after myself. In fact, you can help me with that.”

“I can?”

He sounded so worried that Tara had to bite back a smile. “Yes. I want a gun.”

“You do?” He raised one eyebrow. “Christian told me to get you anything you wanted, but I’m not sure he had a gun in mind.”

“Can you get me one?”

“Probably, there’s an arsenal in the basement. Most of the security guards are armed.”

“Good, and I’ll need someone to show me how to use it.”

“Well, don’t look at me, sweetheart. I’m definitely not your man.”

“But do you know of someone?”

“Again—probably. I’ll have a word with Carl Hanson. He’s the head of security here.”

“Does he know what Christian is?”

Graham nodded.

“Is that safe?” Tara asked.

“Well, Carl’s not exactly” —he paused as if unsure of the right word to use— “normal.”

“What is he?”

“He’s a werewolf. Most of the security guys here are.”

“Right. A werewolf. Great.” She glanced at Smokey, still sitting beside her, listening to the conversation. “Are they the same as shifters?”

“No, they’re different. Shifters are born that way, or at least I think so. Weres are born human and turned. A bit like vamps, I suppose.”

“I should have guessed there’d be werewolves somewhere,” she said almost to herself. “You know, I think I might just pull the covers over my head and go back to sleep. Try to pretend all this isn’t happening. That I have my nice, normal life, that I’m not in love with a vampire, and I’m not about to have shooting lessons with a werewolf.”

Graham grinned. “You can have a normal life—all you have to do is redefine normal.” He frowned. “Hey, did you just say you were in love with Christian?”

Heat washed over her, warming her skin. She nodded.

“You’re blushing.”

“Am not.”

“Am!” He laughed and patted her arm. “I’m glad. I know Christian likes you.”

“You really think so?”

“Oh yeah, big time.” He swung his legs off the bed and took her empty coffee cup. “I’m going to make some breakfast then get you a gun. God help us all.”

Tara stood in reception as the people came and went. The place was buzzing, and she stared, trying to work out what they were, wondering were any of them human. In the end, she had to ask.

“Is anybody that works here human?”

Graham looked hurt. “Hey, I’m human.”

“Well anybody else then?”

“Actually, nearly everyone is human, and only a few of them know anything about the vampire stuff—just some of the security guards. It’s not hard to keep separate.” He glanced down at the cat at her feet. “Does he go everywhere with you?”

Tara picked up Smokey. “Not normally, but he’s feeling a little insecure right now.”

“There’s Carl, come on.”

Tara studied her first werewolf. Or maybe not her first. She’d seen other security guards, and Graham had said most were wolves. Carl was a stranger though, and she couldn’t help but feel self-conscious as she crossed the room toward him.

He was tall, with short dark hair and an upright posture. He wasn’t in uniform like most of the guards, but faded jeans and a khaki T-shirt. His wary green eyes met hers, and he held out a hand. Tara put Smokey on the floor and grasped it. As his palm slid against hers, a frisson of sensation ran through her. He felt it as well, and something feral moved behind his eyes.

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