Death's Redemption (The Eternal Lovers Series) (16 page)

The vampires turned her.

A shifter had bitten her.

She craved food with an almost constant obsession.

A shadow wanted to suck out her soul.

And she was so sexually infatuated by a man she loathed, that it culminated in her slapping the hell out of him. His cheek flared red, and his eyes grew wide and filled with fury.

Grabbing her shoulders, he pulled her to him, hard. “Why’d you do that?”

“Because you make me…God!” she screamed, then grabbed the back of his skull and mashed her lips to his.

It wasn’t gentle or exploratory. The kiss was about domination. She poured all her hate and loss of dreams, everything she’d ever clung to. Every illusion that so long as she did what she was told things would turn out okay for her, it all went into him.

Lifting her up, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist, he shoved just as much of his passion back into her. She felt it in the way his teeth knocked with hers, the way his hands gripped so tight, bordering on the edge of pain. Their tongues dueled and she was so aware of it all.

Aware of the way her nipples puckered as they grazed the cool silk of his shirt. The kiss was potent and hard, lips and teeth nipping and grazing, sucking on the flesh of her neck, her jaw. Then he was back on her mouth, rolling her bottom lip between his, tasting and sucking on it.

Heat centered between her thighs, made her ache and need and want so damn bad. Because nothing made sense anymore, this life didn’t make sense. Except this…the way he ground his erection into her, the way he growled in the back of his throat, how he consumed her…this was the only thing making sense.

Then he was slamming her against a tree, and her skin should have shredded the way he kept pressing her against the bark, but it didn’t hurt. There was a sharp burst of pleasure at the almost-pain.

“Make me forget, Frenzy,” she panted, clawing at his skull, running her fingers through his hair.

He tugged on her hair, causing her to inhale sharply at the burst of pain. “You’re a crazy wench,” he growled, and she nodded.

Because that’s exactly what she felt like. Lost, confused, and scared.

“Take me now,” she hissed, running her fingers frantically down the buttons of his shirt, popping them off one by one.

Pulling back just enough so that she could take the shirt off of him, Mila helped him tear it off. Then her hands were on his belt buckle.

“Nothing makes any kind of damn sense to me anymore. Make this go away, Frenzy. Make it go away,” she said, then, frustrated that the belt wouldn’t come off as easily as the buttons, she growled and snapped the buckle off.

He glanced down then back at her. His eyes were still angry, but they were also full of something else too.

Fire.

“O’Fallen,” he growled, and then yanked the broken belt off, moving her hands away when she tried to unzip his pants. “I’ve got it.”

Was it just her imagination or had his voice shook a little?

She bit her knuckle, panting heavily and completely unafraid that they were out in the wild, exposed to the sun and the wind. That anyone could see her if they wanted to. The sun was beating down all around them. The tree barely had enough branches to afford any kind of shade. There wasn’t even a single cloud in the sky.

Everyone and everything wanted her, and her life just didn’t make sense anymore. None of this did. She should be scared, but she wasn’t. She was angry and horny and there was only one cure right now.

The moment his pants slipped down she grabbed hold of his hard length. He was enormous, bigger than any man she’d ever had, and for a second she could hardly breathe trying to imagine shoving that inside of her.

“Can you take me, O’Fallen?” He grunted, and the sound of it was almost painful to hear, like he was barely leashed. She had a feeling that if she said no, he’d freak. She’d pushed him too far. She knew that.

It was the Irish in her, too feisty for her own good. Her mum had always said that. Nostrils flaring, she turned to him and, staring deep into his eyes, she massaged his cock. “I’m not scared.”

He licked his lips, and her stomach bottomed out because she now knew what those lips tasted like. How much fuller the bottom one was than the top one. How touching it was like taking a sip of fine brandy, drugging and intoxicating.

Framing her face with his hands, he forced her to keep his gaze. “Hold on to my neck,” he ordered.

And for once she didn’t fight him, because somehow this was bringing her back. All the fights and battle of wills they’d engaged in, it’d all been leading up to this moment. She’d known it, and deep down he must have known it too. They’d been a powder keg just waiting for a spark to set them off.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she didn’t have to wait long. Frenzy shoved into her, filling and stretching unused muscles.

She hissed and he trembled.

“You’re so damn tight,” he groaned, resting his forehead against hers as he waited for her to adjust to his girth.

Gritting her teeth, she used her feet to urge him deeper inside. He made a weird noise in the back of his throat, a mixture of a rasp and a moan. “You ready?”

The muscles in her thighs twitched as she rolled forward, getting him as deep as he could go in this position.

“Gods, woman,” he hissed, and then took over the rhythm of their thrusts, shoving deeper and harder into her with each one, bruising her back against the rough tree.

But it didn’t hurt, only heightened the pleasure. She was dead—this shouldn’t feel so good. Shouldn’t feel better than what she’d done when alive. It shouldn’t make her body burn so bad, feel so full; it shouldn’t make her want to weep and hiss because the pleasure was almost too much to bear.

With each thrust of his hips, darkness clouded her vision. A heart that she hardly felt beating anymore thumped painfully, chaotically in her chest.

She didn’t hear the whistle of wind rushing through limbs, didn’t see the flight of birds in the air, didn’t notice the call of crickets or grasshoppers, because everything she had, all that she was, was completely focused on him.

On them.

On this.

“Woman,” he growled again, and his thrusting became more intense. She knew he was reaching his peak.

Knew they were seconds away from falling over the cliff.

Frantic with the need for more, she scored her nails down his bare back. He hissed, bowing into her, pounding harder, going deeper.

And then they were there. A mere second away from the little death, and instinct kicked in, something primal and raw that demanded she take him, so she took him.

Mila grabbed a hold of the vein on the side of his neck and sank her teeth in. She didn’t have fangs, the bite wasn’t gentle, but he didn’t seem to care.

Blood filled her mouth, and gods, it was amazing. Its sweetness coated the inside of her mouth, rained down her throat. Filled her belly with heat and fire. Rushed through her veins, bringing with it energy and life.

She screamed as he roared with their mutual release.

It took almost a minute before either one of them could move. He stirred first. There was wonder in his eyes and she could not deny that she felt that same wonder in her heart.

“What the hell just happened?” he mumbled, nostrils flaring from his heavy breaths.

She licked her lips, not wanting to waste a drop of the earthy red elixir. It should have made her ill with the realization that she’d just drunk some of his blood. Instead it only made her want more.

Which made her frown. She hardly knew herself anymore. The old her would never have done that. Not just the blood drinking, but letting a strange man touch her, taste her, make her crazed with a lust she could barely begin to comprehend.

“Stop it,” he growled, stepping into her, framing her face with his hands, forcing her gaze up to his.

“Stop what?” she muttered, heart beating so much harder than it had in days. The blood inside of her body felt warm, alive and electrified. She was buzzing and snapping, her very pores tingling with life. Her skin felt flushed, her cheeks blazing. His blood had done something to her, made her feel alive and so aware.

“Stop overthinking this, stop wondering who you are. Stop comparing this life to the one you had before. Understand this, O’Fallen, what you had is gone. Forever. It won’t come back. It is the one universal truth in immortality. We don’t get second chances to right a wrong or redo a mistake. All we have is this second to see through the bullshit and decide.”

“What are you blatherin’ on about?” It was becoming harder to contain the lilt. For years she’d feared the lilt would give away who she really was. It was why she’d worked so hard to cultivate a neutral accent, and in two days everything she’d worked decades for, everything that’d made her
her
, was unraveling. All shot to hell.

His hands were so warm, and she hated to admit this, even in the privacy of her own head, that it was nice. That in the topsy-turvy thing she now called life, it felt like an anchor. His touch helped her to focus, breathe easier, to panic less. Why? She hardly knew him and yet her very soul resonated vibrantly when he was around.

The way his hands had curved along the contours of her body, how he’d moved in her, tasted her, sipped at her lips like she was a fine wine, it’d all felt so…familiar. Like all her life had been a slow but inexorable progression to him. The dreams she’d had, the face of the red-haired stranger—he’d called to her on a level she couldn’t understand.

“I’m going to keep you safe.” Those molten silver eyes hooked her, blazed with truth. “Nothing will take you from me.”

She wanted to believe that, so bad. Wanted to believe that after all the years of running and hiding alone, it was now in the past. That someone was finally around to help her shoulder this burden. Mila gripped his wrists.

“You want to know the truth?” she whispered, voice quivering because she didn’t want to tell him this. Lightning quick, a million thoughts pinged through her mind. She was so used to bottling it all up inside. Keeping it all to herself. But she’d just opened herself up to him in a way she hadn’t with anyone else before. Not that she’d been a virgin, but hookups had always been secret and brief. A way to relieve an itch. She’d never faced a partner while he’d entered, never let him see the truths in her eyes. Because truths were dangerous and bloody things that could kill as surely as stepping on a land mine.

Mila was tired of running, tired of being alone, tired of pretending that she didn’t need anyone. Pulse hammering, throat so dry it felt like swallowing sandpaper, she considered a never-ending life of either trying to figure out some way to commit immortal suicide, or running. Again. Alone and scared. Always just barely one step ahead of the shadow, one step ahead of a death that wasn’t really a death. It was an eternal prison of torment; once sucked into the creature her conscience mind would remain trapped, like a fly in amber. Unable to ever stop being consumed by the creature who only wanted the secrets of the future and past revealed. She’d lived her mortal life that way with the knowledge that life wasn’t long, that even if she lived to be seventy, it would one day end. But this—an eternity of running, always looking over her shoulder, always wondering where the enemy was,
who
it was—it was a dismal, deflating future. She was a freak even amongst monsters; there’d be no clan to offer protection, no one she could turn to.

Nothing.

She may not want to trust Frenzy—the instinct in her not to do so was overwhelmingly strong—but she didn’t have a choice. It was either him or nothing.

“Me first.” His thumb ran along the soft skin underneath her eye, slowly, back and forth. Hypnotic. She focused on that touch, casting out the fears that threatened to overwhelm, losing herself in sensation.

The way the sun kissed her pale flesh, the way the wind teased the locks of her hair, brushing against the swells of her breasts. How her body still tingled, still wanted him.

She nodded.

“I don’t like people. Human or otherwise,” he began, gritting his teeth as he said it, as if forcing the words out was hard for him.

She snorted. “Not much of a surprise. And not much of a secret.”

He grinned and it stole her breath. Because this wasn’t a lascivious smirk meant to throw her off-balance, or a hot and smoldering smile meant to make her lose her head. His touch was an unguarded moment of tenderness, something she wasn’t quite sure whether he’d done on purpose or not. But his eyes danced, they sparkled the way they had in her vision when he’d gazed upon his Adrianna. It made him seem more approachable, much less like a monster.

He laughed and, by the gods, it was like being sucker punched. That smile moved through her body like a fiery bolt, making her scalp and toes tingle. Who was this man? Not the same one who made her manic to either claw out his eyes or rip off his clothing.

“I’m not sure I even like you much.”

The way he said it, she could tell it was a joke. Not meant to insult. Honestly, it was easier and more believable hearing that than hearing a lie. That he loved her, needed her, cared for her—none of which would be true; they hardly knew each other. For the first time since the panic attack gripped her, she felt herself relax. The anxiety began to slither away, slink back into the darkest recesses of her mind.

And for the first time in years, she felt her lips tip up, felt them stretch and pull, felt muscles work that she’d thought had atrophied after her mum and gran died.

He sucked in a sharp breath, brushing his knuckles along the curve of her cheek. “You should smile more, O’Fallen.”

“There hasn’t been much in my life worth smiling about,” she admitted reluctantly.

Frenzy gazed up at the sky, squinting into the brightness of the sunlight, then he sighed. She was amazed to note the savaging bite she’d given him was already healed up; to look at him you’d never think she’d just fed off him. There wasn’t even a trace of blood on his gold-kissed skin. He was perfect and without flaws, as all fae were.

And it suddenly dawned on her: she was still as naked as a jaybird and he was wearing nothing but his slacks around his ankles.