“So soft.” His voice drove her to new heights. She bit her lip, trying to salvage some control, and failed completely. “Made for my hands. Made for me.”
Riana’s shoulders scrubbed against the bars. Creed nibbled at her ear, her neck. She was ready to climax. How could she be ready to climax?
Her mind spun.
He worked her breasts without mercy, pausing only to lick his fingers and get her nipples wet. The cool air in the laboratory ruffled across her, chilling them, doubling her sensations. All Riana could do was moan and rub her ass against his cock. So hard and ready, ready like she was.
“I can’t,” she whispered, not even sure what she wanted to say. “I can’t. I can’t.”
One of his hands dropped lower, rubbing across her belly. “I think you can. I think you want to.”
He found the button on her pants. “I think you need to.” He ripped the button off and forced the zipper down in one motion.
Italian slacks. Torn to hell. Did she care? She could smell her own musk, mingled with the tang of sweat and that sexy cedar-mandarin scent that seemed to be uniquely Creed’s.
His teeth found her neck again as he pinched her nipple and pushed his palm beneath the lacy band of her panties. She moaned louder as he cupped her, forcing his fingers upward, into the damp, aching flesh. Almost inside her. Almost where she wanted his cock.
Goddess. She didn’t care about the slacks. She didn’t care about how long she had known him, or what he was, or anything else. Her world consisted of the short distance between her core and her swollen clit.
Creed covered that distance in the time it took her to beg.
His touch was rough and adamant as he pressed two fingers against her clit and started to rub in tight circles. Back and forth, back and forth.
Riana heard herself swear, heard her breath jerk in and out of her throat in little half screams. Her emotions spiraled upward faster than she thought possible. Her eyes clamped shut and her mouth opened. She let out a shriek of need, followed by, “Now, please! Now!”
Some wild woman’s voice. Not hers. Not her.
But it was her, jammed up against those cell bars, holding on for dear life, her clothes torn open, a dangerous stranger massaging her stone-hard nipple and her wet clit even as he kissed her neck again, again.
“Come,” he whispered between bites. “I want to feel you shake.”
Riana’s whole body shook on command, wave after wave of orgasm making her buck against the bars so hard she’d probably have vertical bruises on her back.
Then the room shook. Literally.
“Turn it loose, honey. Let it roll.”
No matter what he said, she couldn’t do that. Not totally. Riana clung to the bars with one hand, trying to salvage a shred of mental control and awareness. The shaking subsided. At least the shaking in the earth. Riana couldn’t stop the shaking in her body. She couldn’t even stop the urge to make it worse.
With her free hand, she reached down and behind her, until she found Creed’s cock. Velvet and steel. He was thrusting forward as she wrapped her fingers around him, squeezed, and pulled him hard against her ass. He let out a surprised groan, then thrust himself into her grip.
It only took a few strokes to make him roar, to bring him with her, right over the edge. Riana felt a rush of satisfaction and power. Then she lost her mind again.
Creed squeezed her breast as he bit her neck harder and his fingers slipped down and thrust upward into her core. Two fingers. Three. Four. Her walls expanded to take most of his hand. She yelled as he lifted her to her toes again and again with the force of his thrusts. Goddess. She yelled louder as she pumped her hand up and down his throbbing cock. His thumb rested against her clit and he rubbed it even as he drove his fingers into her. The heat of his seed flooded against the fabric of her lab coat and slacks, warming her back and ass. Her walls contracted and squeezed his fingers like she planned to keep him inside her forever.
She didn’t know who shouted louder as she came again, her or Creed.
Riana stroked his cock until his spasms stopped, then refused to turn him loose even when he sagged against the bars. He pressed his mouth against her ear, kept her breast cupped, and left his fingers buried deep in her channel, creating mind-twisting aftershocks every time he took a breath.
When she didn’t think she could stand it anymore, she said, “Turn me loose now.”
His laughter made her shiver and twitch from the pressure of his hand inside her. “You first, honey.”
They stood like that another few seconds.
Riana relented first and let go of Creed’s spent cock.
Reluctantly, slowly, making sure to spread his fingers and cause her to convulse from the combined pleasure and pain, Creed slid his fingers out of her core, then out of her panties. He pulled his hand back through the bars, and Riana’s cheeks blazed as she realized he must be tasting her.
The next thing he said was, “Sweet.”
Riana pushed his hand away from her breast and turned to face him.
He grabbed the lapels of her lab coat and pulled her to him again.
This time when he kissed her, she could taste herself on his lips, feel his bare chest and the lead bars tingling against her sensitive nipples, feel the heat of his cock pressing into her belly just above her exposed hair. So easy to get lost in this man. Too easy. Her body ached for more. Her body ached for
him,
and she imagined herself in the cell, lying on the cot with her legs around his shoulders as he pumped into her until she shook the whole house down. Hell, the whole neighborhood, probably.
When Creed pulled back from the kiss, Riana moved away in a hurry. She almost tripped on her torn slacks, which fell down around her ankles. Then she almost tripped over the keys she had tossed out of Creed’s reach. He laughed as she kicked out of her soiled pants and took off her lab coat, then made an appreciative noise when she bent over to pick up the keys, breasts swinging free.
Riana glared at him as she pulled off her ruined blouse, then tugged down her chemise to cover herself. She had to adjust her panties, too, but they were too wet and stretched to give her much cover. She stared at the trapped man, gave him a wicked grin, and rubbed her hand and the keys up and down, right where he had cupped her.
Creed’s eyes widened. “Cheater. No fair. Let me out of here, or come in.”
“I don’t want to get in that cell with you.” Riana kept touching herself, enjoying her ability to return a bit of the insanity he brought out in her. “I’m satisfied now.”
His grin was every bit as wicked as hers. “Liar.”
He stared at her hand. With one hand, he grabbed his cock. With the other, he took hold of one of the cell bars. His features shifted. With a loud curse, Creed let go of both in a hurry, as if the lead bar had shocked him. His face tightened as he stared down at his fingers.
Riana went still, hand and keys frozen between her legs.
Had Creed just…just…shimmered?
Did she imagine that?
He looked up at her, his expression a mix of frustration and horror. Then he turned his back on her, put his hands against the stone wall over the cot, and stood there taking long, slow breaths.
Riana still couldn’t move.
Creed looked like a sculpture, carved to perfection, posing just for her. Yet she sensed his distress like a bitterness in the air.
She finally pulled her hand from between her legs and walked toward the cell, kicking the keys as she went. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he said. Too loud. Too tense.
“Now who’s the liar?” Riana reached the cell and touched one of the bars. Nothing unusual, at least not to her senses.
“Riana, take the keys and go. Leave me for a while.”
Even though her skin still hummed from their encounter, even though she was only half-dressed and staring at the backside of the most gorgeous naked man she had ever seen, Riana’s scientist-mind clicked into gear. “The
other
. Have you had problems with the
other
in sex before?”
For almost a whole minute, Creed didn’t say anything. Riana watched as his muscles bunched, tighter and tighter.
Her heart thumped, and she backed away. If the
other
came forward, would the cell hold it? It had to. The lab—her analyses! She looked at the ceiling. The house. Cynda and Merilee.
What kind of chances had she been taking with everyone’s life?
“No,” Creed said, and it sounded like he said it through clenched teeth.
“What?” Riana looked at him, confused.
“I haven’t—had trouble with the
other
during sex before.” Another deep breath, then his muscles relaxed. He turned toward her, glanced at the floor, reached down, picked up his blanket and fastened it back around his waist. When he finished, he raised his eyes to hers again. His face was bathed in sweat.
“If I thought sex would make the
other
come forward, do you think I would have risked your safety like that?” He touched the bars with both hands, as if testing them, then visibly relaxed when he was able to keep hold of them this time. “Do you think I would have let you think about coming into this cell?”
Riana stared into Creed’s eyes, earnest and more haunted than ever. “I—no. I don’t think you would have put me in jeopardy. Not on purpose.”
He nodded. “Maybe you should go get dressed, and we’ll talk a little more about—”
The ceiling shook from some sort of blow.
Riana jumped. Was it the wall? What the hell?
Thud
.
A big puff of smoke sucked under the lab door, driven by a massive gust of wind. The air filled with a wavering gray haze.
Riana cut her eyes to Creed, who was staring at a spot on the far wall—the spot right below where Riana thought she heard the first noise. Another thump made the ceiling rattle. Then two.
Riana’s tattoo burned, right on the pestle.
“Shit.” She grabbed her arm. “Cynda! Something’s wrong with Cynda.”
“Let me out!” Creed said as she started to run out of the lab. “Hey, don’t leave me here like a sitting duck. Let me help!”
Riana hesitated.
Creed had almost changed to the
other
only seconds ago. Was this some kind of diversion? Some kind of trick?
More smoke rushed under the door, this time with a gust of wind big enough to shove a beaker off a countertop. The fragile glass shattered all over the stone floor.
Riana ran back toward him, shook the keys loose from her fingers, and threw them in Creed’s general direction. Then she turned, raced to the lab entrance, tested the handle for heat—none. Good. That much, at least.
She threw open the door and plunged into the waiting cloud of smoke outside.
10
Creed dropped to his knees and crammed his arm through the bars. Pain shot through his shoulder. Damn! Close, but he couldn’t reach the keys where they had clattered to the stone floor in front of the cell.
Smoke billowed through the open door. His eyes stung and he coughed.
What had Riana charged into?
And he was here, friggin’ locked in a cell, unable to reach the keys she had thrown at him. He let out a stream of curses, ripped the blanket off his waist, stuck it through the bars, then flicked one end over the keys.
They didn’t snag.
“Fuck!”
He tried again as he heard pounding on the upstairs door. Riana yelled for somebody to open it. Great. Whoever was attacking the other women had locked Riana out.
The keys still didn’t snag. Creed flipped the blanket out a third time. The floor shook. He pitched into the bars, banged his head, and managed to snag the keys all at the same time.
The upstairs door opened with a heavy thump. Creed imagined Riana charging into the living room to take on half a dozen freak-demons like the one he had tried to punch in the alley. He jerked the keys into the cell, snatched them off the stone floor, and lunged to the cell door. The smoke in the lab seemed to be thinning out, but he figured there was no time to lose. He crammed the first key into the lock. Nothing.
“
Son
of a…”
Second key. Still no match.
There were five more keys.
Riana shouted.
He thought he heard a woman scream, “No! Don’t touch it!”
The fourth key fit.
Creed turned the lock, swung the cell door open—and felt the
other
flare through his insides, raging and huge and seemingly unstoppable. The damned thing screeched inside his mind like it had never done before. Creed stumbled out of the cell and fell to his knees, holding both sides of his head. His skin strained and burned, and he felt as if the
other
was about to rip straight through his skin.
What the hell was making it so insane? It felt more powerful, more determined than ever before.
He clenched his teeth and strained against the
other
’s furious energy. It wanted to storm and destroy and rip things apart. It wanted to kill the women. It really, really wanted to kill Riana. Creed felt driven to get up from the floor, charge out of the laboratory, grab her by the throat, and choke her to death. When he shook off that image, he got another, even worse, involving knives and lots of blood. Then swords. Then simply cooking her by letting his energy envelop her.
The signet ring sizzled against his skin. He yelled and grabbed it, started to rip it straight off his finger, but caught himself just in time.
“No!” He leaned forward and bashed his head against the stone floor. At the same moment, he imagined himself slugging the
other
right in its hateful, ranting mouth. Pain—from inside his head and outside, too—made his vision swim to a sick, hazy gray.
The
other
fell back, howling its frustration, then went eerily quiet.
Riana shouted again, this time from the living room, and Creed forced himself to his feet. Vision blurred, he staggered out of the lab to the marble stairs, which seemed steeper than he remembered. He felt half-blank and rattled from the pain in his head and the
other
’s bizarre, forceful activity. Something was fueling the beast. Something upstairs, Creed just knew it. Whatever the women were fighting—was it some sort of key to his origins?