“No man could force me.”
“Then say the words.”
She cursed, but, tilting back her head, she met his stubborn gaze.
“I. Want. You.”
“Ariyal.”
“Ariyal.” Her nails raked down his back. “Happy?”
“I intend to be,” he muttered.
Sliding his hands over her breasts, he molded the firm mounds, lowering his head to taste the puckered tip. She quivered, her legs circling his hips as she urged him to put an end to their torment.
“Ariyal ... dammit.”
He chuckled, smugly proud of his ability to reduce her to begging. Then her fingers tightened around his cock and his laughter became a low groan of need.
Bloody hell. He was close.
Too close to continue his teasing.
“You win,” he muttered, his hands smoothing down the curve of her waist before slipping between her legs, his fingers closing over hers to guide his aching cock to her welcoming entrance.
“Always,” she breathed, her determination to have the last word ruined as she gasped in pleasure as he stroked deep into her body.
He gripped her hips, his features tight with retrained need.
“Hold on, Jaelyn,” he said. “This might be a bumpy ride.”
She flashed her fangs, moving her hands over his chest as she tightened her muscles to clamp around his cock, which was buried to the hilt.
“Bring it on, fairy.”
Barely recalling how to breathe, Ariyal claimed her lips in a possessive kiss, pulling out until he was once again poised at her entrance. Jaelyn muttered low words of protest, reaching down to grab his ass.
His soft laughter echoed through the empty house. “Slower is sweeter, Jaelyn.”
Sucking his lower lip into her mouth, she dug her nails into his flesh.
“Do you want me to beg?”
He eased back inside her, a thin sheen of sweat coating his body as he buried himself to the hilt.
“I want you to scream,” he commanded.
“Make me,” she whispered, her legs tightening around his hips.
He nibbled a path of kisses of her neck so he could whisper directly in her ear.
“A challenge?”
“Are you up for ... oh!”
Her words were forgotten as he pulled out and then rocked his hips upward, nearly lifting her off the table with the force of his thrust.
They cried out in unison, Jaelyn burying her face in his neck as he held on to her hips and briefly absorbed the sensation of his erection sheathed in her tight channel. Then, as she trembled against him, he repeated the forceful surge, keeping his pace just as slow and sweet as he promised.
Or at least that was the plan.
With every thrust Jaelyn lifted her hips upward, possessing the strength to meet his thrusts with an explosive impact. He’d never had such a powerful lover. At least not one who could meet him stroke for stroke with pleasure instead of pain.
It was ... intoxicating.
And unnervingly intimate.
It was as if they were being fused together. Not just physically, but in the passion that bound them.
In this moment they were one.
Her lips trailed down his throat, creating tiny jolts of electric excitement as he felt the sharp tip of her fangs brush his skin.
He grimly crushed the insane desire to feel those fangs sinking into his flesh, concentrating on the building tension that clenched the muscles of his groin.
“Are you with me, Jaelyn?”
Her nails dug into his skin, her head angling back to stab him warning glare.
“Don’t stop,” she growled. “Don’t you dare stop.”
He grinned with wicked enjoyment at her demands. “I told you I was going to make you scream, Jaelyn,” he reminded her, his hands shifting to pull her legs higher on his waist, angling her upward so he could plunge even deeper.
With swift, relentless strokes he urged her toward that perilous edge, his breath rasping through the air. Her eyes squeezed closed, her body clenched so tight around his cock that he was certain he would combust before giving her satisfaction.
Over and over he plunged deep inside her. Then just when he was certain he was going to embarrass himself, he gave one last surge and she gave a shout of release.
He claimed her lips in a branding kiss as he pressed her shuddering body tight against him and shattered beneath the maelstrom of exploding bliss.
Holy ... shit.
Still holding her in his arms, he spread tiny kisses over her face, continuing to pump into her as he sought to regain his composure.
Or his sanity.
Whichever came first.
Rocked by the tiny aftershocks of pleasure, Jaelyn had no choice but to hang on to Ariyal.
Or at least that was the excuse she used as her hands smoothed down the satin skin of his back and her face remained pressed into the curve of his neck as she wallowed in his warm, addictive scent.
Alarms buzzed in the back of her mind. Yeah, as if she needed to be reminded of the complete lunacy of giving in to her passions. But it wasn’t until the persistent ache of her fangs penetrated her fuzzy glow that she abruptly stiffened in his arms.
Not all her hungers had been satisfied.
And the violent urge to sink her fangs into his neck was all but irresistible.
With a hiss, she placed her hands against his chest, yanking her head back to meet his brooding gaze.
“Don’t,” he warned.
She scowled at his commanding tone. “Don’t what?” “Try to squirm away from me.”
“Are you always such a bossy lover?”
“Yes,” he admitted without apology.
Typical.
“Are you always so eager to leave your lover’s arms?”
Jaelyn shivered.
Lovers.
Grimly she forced herself to ignore the possessive glow in his bronze eyes and the delicious sensation of his warm flesh still buried deep inside her.
She wouldn’t compound her stupidity by wishing that things could be different.
Even if he weren’t her current assignment, her position as a Hunter meant she couldn’t take a long-term lover. And certainly she could never have a mate....
She slammed the door before the dangerous thought could fully form. She
soooo
wasn’t going there.
“Vampires don’t do cuddling,” she said, coating her voice in ice. “Sorry.”
Anger tightened his exquisite features, but while he slowly pulled out of her body, his arms remained wrapped around her.
“It’s more than an allergy to cuddling,” he accused. “You treat me like I carry the plague.” A mocking smile curved his lips. “At least when I’m not making you scream in pleasure.”
She forced herself to meet his gaze, desperate to divert him.
“I had an itch and you scratched it.” She shrugged. “What do you want? A trophy?”
She’d intended her cutting words to bring an end to his questions. Didn’t men want their sexual encounters to be a no muss, no fuss deal? She was offering it to him on a platter.
But of course, Ariyal refused to behave as he should.
Aggravating ass.
“I want the truth,” he growled. “Something that seems a foreign concept to you most of the time.”
“I just told you... .”
His hands moved to grasp her face, his expression grim. “Dammit, Jaelyn, enough games.”
The scent of herbs filled the air as his power seared over her skin, but it wasn’t fear that shivered down her spine.
She pressed her hands against his chest. “This isn’t a game.”
“No, it isn’t. So stop jerking me around and give me a straight answer.” He resisted her halfhearted efforts to push him away. “Does it disgust you that I’m an evil Sylvermyst?”
Disgust?
Was the man mental?
She’d just literally begged him to take her on a dusty table in an abandoned farmhouse in the middle of freaking nowhere.
Did that seem like the actions of a woman who was disgusted by him?
She gave a sharp shake of her head, careful to keep her expression guarded.
“You aren’t evil.”
“That wasn’t what you said when I announced my intention to sacrifice the child before it could be used to resurrect the Dark Lord.”
“I have no intention of allowing you to harm the babe, but wanting to protect your people isn’t evil.” She grimaced. “Believe me, I’ve seen the difference.”
He scowled down at her. “Then why did you refuse to share your blood when I needed it?”
Dammit, was he still on that? Why wouldn’t he let it be?
“We have more important things to discuss,” she muttered.
His hands tightened on her face as she tried to glance away.
“No, I’m not going to be distracted,” he warned. “Tell me.”
They glared at one another in silence. Then with gritted teeth Jaelyn at last lifted her hands to grasp his wrists and pulled his hands away from her face.
“I was afraid what might happen,” she snapped, accepting that the stubborn Sylvermyst wouldn’t give up until he’d managed to drag the humiliating truth out of her.
Predictably the annoying man didn’t appear at all pleased with her confession.
“You didn’t trust me,” he said in flat tones.
“I didn’t trust
me
,” she huffed. “Satisfied?”
“No, I’m damn well not satisfied,” he snapped. “I don’t speak cryptic. What the hell are you talking about?”
She studied the perfectly chiseled lines of his face, her heart squeezing as if it had been put in a vise.
The Addonexus had done everything in their power to destroy her emotions. She was supposed to be a weapon, not a woman.
And she’d assumed they had succeeded.
Until this man.
This beautiful, powerful, truly aggravating man.
She didn’t know how or why, but he’d smashed through her defenses and threatened her in a way she didn’t fully understand but was smart enough to fear.
“I couldn’t take the risk that the blade would bind us together,” she forced herself to admit.
He glanced toward the sword that had been tossed on a wooden stool near the refrigerator.
“The blade merely absorbs your energy, it doesn’t actually steal your soul, regardless of the rumors.”
“Don’t be dense. I mean ...” She battled against a wave of embarrassment. Dammit. He was making her feel like an idiot. “Bind us. Forever.”
“Obviously I am dense. How could a few drops of your blood on my blade bind us together?”
“Because the blade transfers the blood to you.”
“And?”
“And it might very well be the same as if you took it directly from my vein.”
“I’ve never heard that taking the blood of a vampire is binding. Not unless ...” He froze, the bronze eyes narrowing with disbelief. “Not unless they’re mates.”
Ding, ding. Give the fairy a gold star.
A vampire needed blood to survive. And it wasn’t unusual to take the vein of a lover during sex.
But the exchanges were about body functions. Food and pleasure.
Nothing that a wise vampire couldn’t walk away from without a backward glance.
But for the rare few who found their true mate, the exchange of blood would entwine their souls.
They would be irrevocably connected.
Forever and ever and ever ...
Unable to bear his piercing scrutiny, she gave him a sharp shove backward, slipping off the table before he could regain his balance.
“We should be deciding what we intend to do next,” she reminded him in clipped tones, pulling on her clothes and belting her holster around her hips. “If you’ve healed I think we should concentrate on finding Tearloch and the child. We can worry about the cur who raised the zombies and his mystery friends later.”
Without warning he grabbed her upper arm and swung her around to confront his probing gaze.
“You’re babbling.”
She stiffened, sternly ignoring his gloriously naked body. Now was not the time to be thinking of how good it felt to have him between her legs, his heat seeping deep inside her as he plunged....
No.
She gave a sharp shake of her head.
“I do not babble,” she informed him, frost coating her words. “I was sharing a reasonable argument for a possible course of action.”