Authors: Marie Hall
E
ve heard the knock like a resounding boom through her skull. Scowling, she stalked to her door.
Who the hell can it be this time? I know I’m not this popular.
She gave serious consideration to not opening it. It was almost one in the morning and the only thing she wanted to do now was lie down. She was physically drained and even a bit on the angry side. She couldn’t understand the fluttering of the heart, twisting of the gut compulsion to open the door. She pulled it open.
There he stood. Her fantasy. Her desire. Almost as if by thinking about him she’d conjured him up.
He was dripping wet, his long multihued hair hanging in his face, drops of rainwater falling to a puddle at his feet. His clothes clung to his body like a second skin, highlighting the sharp grooves and flat planes of muscle.
Deep blue eyes sparkled with pain, and she felt it. For the first time she experienced what it was like to feel another’s pain. It was a wrenching entity filling her with a choking sense of loss. Tears filled her eyes at the ferocity of it, and her heart responded.
“I thought you weren’t coming back.”
“I have to find out what’s happening between us.” His voice broke with need and unspoken desire.
Her lashes fluttered and liquid heat crashed between her thighs, making her instantly hot and ready. The need was elemental and primitive, surging from some deep recess inside her. It was more than lust; it was ancient and deep, twisting inside her and forcing her to obey.
She knew she should be mad at him for ditching her the way he had. But she couldn’t. Not now. Not seeing him like this.
Stamp
SOFTIE
on her forehead and get it over with.
She stepped into his arms and from there it was bedlam. She lost herself to the glorious madness.
Cian picked her up, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist, and he stepped inside, kicking the door shut. A mimic of what they’d done only an hour earlier. Would they finish what they’d started this time? Goddess, she hoped so, prayed so.
The scents of rain and salt filled her head as she licked at his exposed neck, sucking and biting. Her hands were frantic as she tried to rip the shirt from him.
He growled, the sound animalistic, and she responded by raking her nails down his back. Hard.
“Eve. Eve,” he whispered in a rush in her ear, running his hand down her hair and dropping to his knees on the ground.
She exposed her neck to him, lost to the liquid heat of passion burning through her veins. He scraped long fangs down her neck, biting but not piercing the flesh.
She hissed, her skin tingling and sensitive. Her nipples hardened and scraped against the lace of her bra, which suddenly felt too confining. Eve moaned when his hand grazed her breast and she wrapped him tighter in her embrace.
“Feels so good,” she whispered.
His fingers were clumsy as he tried to shuck her tank top over her head. She ran her fingers through his wet hair, scratching the scalp and wriggling her ass on his engorged cock.
“Rip it, Cian. Tear it off, I don’t care,” she panted. Only knowing the damn thing needed to come off now!
He fisted the shirt in his hands and tore. It came apart with a muffled ripping sound. Her body was as soaked as his; a wanton rush of adrenaline hummed through her as she yanked on his shirt.
Meanwhile his mouth slammed down on hers, teeth colliding and tongues dueling in a kiss of fierce possession. Her head swam with fuzz; her body burned with flames.
Still she pulled on his shirt, but it was so wet it hardly budged at all.
“Damn it!” She exploded with frustration and pulled back to try and somehow shuck him out of the thing.
“Forget it, Eve.” He hooked his finger behind the clasp of her bra and snapped it off, throwing it behind her head. Where it landed, she didn’t care.
She pressed her breasts flat against the freezing wetness of his shirt. The combination of heat and cold had shivers traveling down her spine.
He lowered his head, grabbing one breast and beginning to knead while his tongue flicked at the nipple of the other. The cold leather against the warmth of her skin had goose bumps running a race down her arms.
She wished he’d take the things off. But it didn’t matter. Not right now. Not while he was touching her and looking at her with dark heat in his eyes. Maybe later.
A grunt fell from her lips as pleasure tightened its hold inside her. Blood rushed through her veins. She wanted him, everything he had to give, and nothing would stop her this time.
To ease the ache building inside of her, she rubbed herself against his leg.
His tongue circled her nipple, the heat of his mouth making her jerk in response. He twisted the other between his fingers and she screamed, her mind and body exploding with sharp bursts of warm pleasure. A heaviness settled between her thighs. She needed to be filled, possessed.
“Oh, Cian. Now,” she said as she somehow managed to unzip his jeans. The velvet steel of his shaft almost leaped out at her. Her fingers grazed the warm flesh, and she licked her lips in anticipation.
She wrapped both hands around his cock, fingers barely meeting. He was thick and long and perfect. He hissed, tremors traveling his body. His breathing was hard and heavy.
Cian tugged at the elastic band of her pants. She lifted herself up enough for him to shove them down and, unable to wait even another second, impaling herself on him.
He hissed, cupping her with his palm. She felt stretched, filled almost to the point of pain. But with that pain came incredible pleasure, and she rode him hard, her cheek pressed against his. Wet hair clung to her brows.
She closed her eyes and lost herself in the movement. Their scent. He pumped into her harder, forcing her slick heat to pound up and down on him at a furious pace.
Their bodies slapped together and heat rushed to her core. She gasped and hugged his neck. White stars danced behind her eyes. Muscles contracted, reaching a crescendo. A spiral of pleasure traveled down her spine, filling her limbs, and had her on the brink of orgasm.
He bit her neck, and that was her undoing. A frenzied explosion of exquisite fire. She arched back into the blossoming flames. Her breathing came in short gasps and her nails dug into his arms.
“Eve,” he roared, his cock contracting with the tide of his own climax.
It took a second for her to come back to herself, but when she did she smiled and nuzzled the side of his neck, feeling more whole and complete than she ever had in her life. Reluctantly she opened her eyes.
He sighed and embraced her, holding her to him like a fragile doll. There was such strength in his hands, and yet he was gentle, his fingers idly trailing a path down her back.
“I guess this is the part where I say, hi, Cian.”
He laughed, a deep, throaty sound filled with inflections.
“I’m glad you came back.”
“Me too.”
“Why you’d leave?” Seemed kind of dumb to ask this question now, especially after what had happened, but she was still a little confused and hurt. He’d left without an explanation, just a good-bye and so long.
He twisted his lips, running his hand through her hair. “I thought I had someplace to be. Then I realized it wasn’t as important as being here with you. I’m sorry, Eve. I’m so sorry.”
His words nearly brought tears to her eyes. Not so much what he said, but how he said them. A deep, wrenching heartache poured from his lips. It still didn’t explain why he’d left. But hadn’t she done the very same thing earlier? Maybe he had skeletons too. Painful secrets buried deep. And like Cian had told her before, who was she to judge? She understood all about those skeletons. In the end, she was grateful he’d come back.
Maybe someday he’d feel comfortable enough to share his secrets with her, but in the meantime she wouldn’t hold it against him.
She smiled and placed a tender kiss against his lips. He sighed, leaning his forehead against hers, and they sat that way for a while. Just holding on. Two wounded hearts seeking and finding solace in each other.
After a moment she felt a cold drop of water slide from his hair to her chest, which made her glance down and become embarrassingly aware of her clothes. Or rather the torn remains of them. Her breasts were hanging free. Her shirt was gone—or the tatters of it anyway—hidden only goddess knew where. She felt like a floozy compared to the still-dressed Cian.
“Jeez. I’d better put something on,” she laughed.
He looked at her, the wild lust gone but the heat still glittering in the depths of his royal-blue eyes. “I think this look suits you.” He ran his hand down the curve of her breast.
Warmth fluttered anxious wings in her belly. Even after that she still wanted him. He rocked his hips. She smiled. He wasn’t as hard as before, but he was definitely getting there. The air between them sparked with eroticism.
She bit her lip. “You keep that up and I might have to have my way with you again.”
He chuckled, kissing the tip of her nose. “I don’t think I’d mind that at all.”
Though she didn’t want to rip herself away from him just yet, she also didn’t want him catching chill. He was soaked to the bone and her right along with him. She stood, hugging her shirt shut.
“First things first, you need to get warmed up.” She couldn’t help but glance down at his cock. A greedy smile played on her lips. Butterflies dipped and dived as she remembered the feel of him inside her.
“I’m fine.” He grinned, noticing her gaze as he slipped himself back inside his pants. He stood and grabbed her hand. “But if you insist, I know something that can warm me.”
She snorted, slapping her palm against his chest, unable to resist giving the firm muscle beneath a small squeeze. “You vampires. Think you’re so tough. Even you guys can’t walk around with soaked clothes all night long. For one night, let me baby you.”
H
earing her call him a vampire yet again made the full weight of his lies crash down around him. There wasn’t much he could do for her, but he could give her truth. And maybe in the end, when he was gone, she’d remember that at least he’d done that for her. “Eve, I have something I need—”
In a matter of seconds he watched the smile on her face slowly slip and the golden eyes lose their luster. She gave a crooked smile and placed cold fingertips against his cheek. “First we get warm. Then, if you still need to”—her mouth turned down—“we’ll talk.”
Tendrils of her confusion and fear skated down his spine. Eve was procrastinating. As if somehow she instinctively knew this conversation was one she wouldn’t want to have.
A hollow ache spread through his chest. Each time he put this off, it made it all the more difficult. Yet he couldn’t ignore the entreaty in her gaze.
“All right. Later, then.”
Relief smoothed her brows. “Good,” she sighed and walked toward her bedroom, stopping at a closet and tossing him some clothes. “Put those on. They should fit. Give me a second to get out of this and meet me in my bedroom in say…two minutes?”
He nodded, and she walked away.
There was a time and place for everything. What sense was there in rushing to tell her? She’d find out soon enough, and it didn’t seem like she was in a hurry to know at that.
Looking down at the carpet, a vision of her slick skin sliding along his burned his sight. The hairs on the back of Cian’s neck tingled. Now she wanted him to join her in the bedroom, and there was no way he’d be able to stop himself from making love to her again.
He closed his eyes for a brief moment. She’d said two minutes. It was nearly that. He glanced down at his wet clothes, quickly stripped, and put on what she’d tossed him—a baggy pair of lounging pants and white shirt.
“Cian, you coming or what?” Eve asked walking out into the hallway, wearing a navel-baring top and short white shorts. She stopped, her mouth tipping at the corners, golden eyes turning round with delight. “Nice.”
Her obvious perusal heated his veins.
“I’ve never seen you dressed so casual. It’s a great picture.”
Eve sashayed up to him, dragging her hand across his chest. His nipples pebbled at her touch. Heat coiled long fingers around his heart, the feel of her was like fire, branding him and making the flesh prickle.
Slowly she walked around him. He dragged her perfume deep into his lungs.
“Oh, very nice.” She grabbed onto his bicep and squeezed. “I think you should wear these shirts more often.”
Cian grinned, but then stiffened when she walked behind him. Curiosity and excitement lapped up against him like the gentle waves of the sea; she was remembering something. And he was sure he knew what it was.
“You once told me you have a tattoo. Where is it?”
He ground his jaw.
She lifted up the edges of his shirt, exposing a tiny sliver of his skin, but it was enough. A loud gasp and then she bunched the shirt the entire way up his back.
“Wow. You weren’t kidding about having a tattoo. This thing is massive. So intricate.” Her warm breath rippled along his skin.
He didn’t move, allowing her to touch him. He felt raw and exposed. What must she see when she looked at him? At the hideous mark of his shackles?
“Can you take your shirt off?”
His heart trembled. He closed his eyes and in one swift motion took it off. He felt like a caged animal that’d been beaten and manhandled. On the defense and edgy. “I despise it.”
“What? Oh no. No, It’s beautifully done. The black is so vivid and bold.” The warm press of lips touched the center of his back.
The design, a symbolic manifestation of the servitude he was forced to endure, and she’d kissed it. He turned, pulled her into his embrace and wrapped his arms tight around her, wishing he could crawl inside her skin, where it was safe and warm and good.
She meant everything to him. Her actions made him realize he was making the right choice. This was a life worth preserving. The world had to see what he saw, had to know her, because Eve was someone worth loving.
“Thank you.”
She giggled. “For what?”
“Just”—he shook his head—“thank you.”
She pulled back, a happy twinkle in her eyes. “Come with me.” She grabbed his hand and, walking backward, pulled him down the hall and into her room.
* * *
Eve bit her lip, glancing at him from beneath her lashes. A nervous flutter of wings lit inside her throat. Her bedroom was bathed in the flickering golden glow of candlelight. The woodsy scent of incense undulated through the air.
Now she was a vision of sultry seduction, but a second ago he wouldn’t have recognized the madwoman kicking socks and panties under the bed to hide them from sight. She crossed her fingers behind her back, hoping he wouldn’t encounter a bra or two she might have overlooked.
With the rest of the house, she was such a clean freak. Not a speck of dust left to gather anywhere. But when it came to her bedroom, for some reason, she never worried about dropping a bra or panty on the floor and leaving it there until laundry day. Probably because she hadn’t been laid since the wheel had been invented. Who would see her room to care?
“I’m sorry the bed’s not made. Kinda ruins the whole seduction thing, I know.” She gave a self-effacing laugh. “But I only had two minutes, so you’ll have to forgive me this time.”
His gaze stole her breath. Mysterious eyes, full of pain and hurt, but when they looked at her it was different. It was a gentle caress, a twisting, knotting perusal that she felt all the way to the tips of her toes. And after what had just happened in her living room, she shouldn’t be so nervous. But that had been all fire and brimstone. This was so much more.
She led him into the room and sat him down on her bed.
“Lie on your stomach, Cian. Please.”
He turned to her, a question turning his lips.
“Trust me.” She smiled and placed a quick kiss on the side of his mouth.
“Hmmm, I don’t know.”
She swatted him and he jumped. She threw her head back and laughed at his wide-eyed shock. “Lie down, you, or I’ll have to bust out my kung fu moves.”
He chuckled, lying facedown on the amethyst comforter. “You’ve got me.”
“So trainable. I love it,” she teased and straddled him, sitting down and pushing his hair aside. Maybe later she’d give in to her other fantasy of rolling around in the thick strands.
She ran her hands along the contours of his chiseled back, fascinated with the dark lines of his tattoo.
The skull itself was frightening, but the intricacy of the artwork was beyond reproach. She narrowed her eyes. Man, the thing looked really fresh. The ebony ink darker than any shade she’d ever seen, with none of the typical green tint to a fading tattoo. The color reminded her of shadow.
“You’re gonna have to tell me who gave you this thing, Cian. I think even Mingan would be jealous of this one.”
He only grunted as she reached over to the end table and grabbed her oils. She opened a stopper, poured a generous amount onto her hands, and rubbed them together.
A rich herbal scent filled the room.
He moaned even before she started the massage. “What is that?”
Eve dug her hands into the tight muscles of his back and began to knead out the kinks. “It’s Balsam Peru I mixed with ylang-ylang. You like?” She slid her thumbs along his spine, rubbing deep and pushing hard.
“Mmm.”
The vibrations of his groan shooting between her thighs made her whimper in response. Liquid heat pooled inside her crotch. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“Yes,” he grunted. And then, “You have magic fingers.” Every word he said rolled through her body, stoking the already-growing fire.
Slicked-up hands made it easy to drive out the knots. The shimmering substance made his skin glisten. The powerful scent filled her head, her nose. She sucked it deep into her lungs, smelling not only the oil but the musk of his body. The effect was making her hot and twitchy. Her lower stomach clenched, and she could only hope he was feeling half as good as she was right now.
“I feel it, Eve.” He rolled over, making her slip from his back and falling onto her side. He gripped her waist, a devilish smile played on his lips.
“I’d swear you were reading my mind,” she chuckled, sliding her hands along his chest.
“No, just your emotions.”
She bit her lip, burying her nose in the crook of his neck. “Goddess, that’s so embarrassing.” Heat settled in her cheeks.
He tipped her chin back and shook his head. “Don’t be embarrassed. It’s one of the things I love about you. You make me feel at ease. I know who I am when I’m around you. I love you.”
Wow! Brain cells went dead. Her stomach flopped and blood thundered in her ears. She melted. Warmth crept into her limbs. And it felt right. Fast or no. “I love you too.”
He closed his eyes, a painful expression twisting his face. He slid his arm beneath her body and pulled her tight to him. She could feel the beat of his heart; it felt like it was going to fly out his chest.
“Eve.” More than just her name came out his mouth. That one word encompassed a coiling need.
“Make love to me, Cian.”
* * *
His heart constricted. The peppermint warmth of her breath tickled his cheek. He itched to trace her lithe curves like a figurine and devour her mouth with his own. Cian closed his eyes and tried to breathe.
All he got for his effort was the tantalizing fragrance of scented herbs and flowers. It tugged like an invisible magnet, demanding he crush her to him and give into the passion that hadn’t yet been sated. But he wouldn’t do this fast. He would take it slow and savor her like a fine wine.
She nipped at his neck. “Kiss me, Cian. Make me yours.” The hot, kittenish whisper speared his heart.
Golden eyes full of want blinked back at him. Slowly, deliberately, he lowered his head, brushing his lips over hers in a gentle caress.
Eve wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down, forcing him to lie upon her completely. He touched his lips to hers, tongue sliding along the seam of her mouth, asking without words for entrance.
She parted on a sigh and he darted inside, tasting her sweetness and moaning deep in his throat. He slid his hand along the length of her naked thigh, and when he encountered the cotton of her shorts, he tugged gently. Then he flicked his wrists and both their sets of clothes were gone. For the first time they were body to body.
“Whoa. What was that?” She gasped. “Did you just take our clothes off?”
He bit his lip, fighting the grin.
“Didn’t know vamps could do that.”
“There’s a lot about me you don’t know.”
“Another challenge, eh? Mmm…I like,” she moaned, moving underneath him. “Take off the gloves, touch me everywhere.”
He stiffened. The temptation was like a powerful magnet, demanding he do it. Demanding he finally feel her. “I…I can’t.”
Her brows lowered as he crawled back off of her and sat up. It would only take one time…a cockroach to die in her apartment and he’d turn reaper. If even one digit on his hand grazed her she’d go comatose. A frozen corpse. A soul trapped in a dead body. Just like the man Indigo had killed the other night.
“Hey. Hey.” She grabbed his hand and brought it to her lips, rubbing her mouth against the leathered knuckles. “It’s okay, really. If it’s a disability or anything, I hope you know you can trust me. I won’t force you.”
He dropped his head, closing his eyes as the beauty of her words ran through him. So much deceit. So many lies. That’s why he wanted to tell her the truth. To show her who he really was. He wanted the lies to end.
She placed his hand against her breast. His eyes snapped open and she smiled.
“I always thought Christine should have gotten with the Phantom.” She reached up and touched the side of his face. “Nothing you could show me would make me love you any less. But please, don’t let my ignorance ruin this night. Let’s finish what we started.”
She grabbed him by the shoulders and rolled him down on top of her. He forgot his worries, his fears, everything fled as he stared into the beauty of her face. “I don’t deserve you, Eve.”
“Shh.” She gently bit him on that spot between collarbone and neck. Fire raced through him. His gaze grew hot, hungry.
He grabbed one coral-colored nipple and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger.
Eve hissed, arcing up and running her fingers through his hair. “Cian!”
Smiling at the sharp desire piercing her voice he took the nipple into his mouth and suckled. Her flesh tasted sweet and salty. He laved the same kind of attention on the other breast before moving down.
He rubbed his cheek against the creamy smoothness of her flat belly. A violent wave of desire slammed through him, making him dizzy for want of her. Eve was projecting, writhing, and moaning beneath him, her lust and her need raining through his veins.
Wanting to taste everything, he went lower still, his face between her legs and staring at the very essence of what made her a woman. He’d tasted her once; now she was his addiction. He needed more and he would have more.
He kissed his way down her thighs, biting gently and imprinting a trail of red upon her skin. She dug her nails into his scalp, her salty-sweet scent wafting through the air. He ran a finger down her wet slit, exposing the engorged flesh.
Eve hissed, bucking up.
“So bonny,” he breathed, then lowered his head and took her swollen nub into his mouth, sucking, tasting, and inhaling all of her. She was sweet and tart and he couldn’t get enough of her.
Groaning, she slammed herself deeper into his mouth, grinding her swollen nub on his lips and demanding he take more. He swirled his tongue around the silky smoothness.
A raspy moan expelled from her lungs. He grinned as he finally came up for air and licked his lips.
Her eyes were glazed and a wicked grin rolled across her face from ear to ear. She held out her arms. A repeat of the other night. Obeying without hesitation, he moved up her body. Inches separated his lips from hers.