Drawing Deep (24 page)

Lowering his head on a growl, Santos sucked the sensitive tip into his mouth, his tongue a hard lash over the pebbled hardness.

“Oh, yes.” Her head fell back as the rough rasp of his tongue stroked her mercilessly. Her legs parted around the intrusion of one masculine thigh, and she rubbed her aching, wet core rhythmically over the hard muscle, the teasing friction only amplifying her need.

Switching to her neglected breast, Santos plumped the firm flesh, working the tight peak with his tongue, flicking it, then laving it until it grew increasingly tender. At the same time he slicked a hand down the soft plane of her belly, cupping her mound, the tip of his long finger brushing the soaking entrance of her body. “Tell me you want me.”

How could he not know she was dying here? So aroused that the primitive hunger inside her was about to burst forth and consume him whole. “Tell me first.”

He nipped her bottom lip, licked the small hurt with his tongue. “Stubborn. I want you, kitten.” His lips pulled back in a grimace of pure lust, the dark intensity of his eyes piercing her to her soul. “I’ll always want you.” With that he slipped a finger inside the moist depths of her body, causing her to let loose a strangled cry which landed on his lips, a hairsbreadth from her own. “I love you.”

Overwhelmed, Ria kissed him, all tongue and teeth and wicked wetness, her hands frantic on chest, arms and everywhere she could reach. When she closed her fingers over the hot, rigid flesh of his cock, he cursed.

“Now.” She stroked his hard length in tandem with the rough fingers that stroked inside her, bringing her to the edge of sanity.

“I don’t have a condom.” His eyes glittered with his own madness as the beast within rose to claim its mate.

“Don’t care.” If he didn’t get inside her soon, she was going to bite him.

His teeth closed over her earlobe. “You could get pregnant.”

It made her pause, her womb spasm. She pulled back to look at him, blinked as the spray from the shower caught her in the face. With one hand still between her legs, he nudged her further down the wall until the water rained down over her shoulder.

“Tell me what you want. Mate.”

Did he have to throw that inescapable bond between them? She stared up at the rugged angles of his face, the little muscle twitching in his jaw. A brutal impatience he was determined to leash, even if he suffered for it.

And why was she even questioning him or herself? Hadn’t she realized yesterday that she loved the dominant, prideful male that held her to him with an erotic tenderness that made her throat hurt? Yes, creating a child shouldn’t be made on a whim or at the expense of a few minutes of pleasure, but as she fell into his eyes, visually caressed his features, she knew his face was the one she wanted to wake up to every day for the rest of her life. And seeing a copy of those eyes on a little boy didn’t frighten her at all. It would simply be icing on the cake.

“I think that I’m actually okay at the thought of having your child.” For Ria, it was a screaming declaration of commitment.

“Yeah?” He lifted her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist, his eager flesh slicking through her delicate folds, his lips curved in a wickedly tender grin. “I think that I’m actually okay at the thought of you heavy with my child.” His hips flexed and the engorged head penetrated her, stretching her with lush, sensual strokes that had flames licking her body.

Pressed against the marble as she was, she could get not purchase, couldn’t arch her hips the way she needed, so she wiggled and bounced, grinding herself into him as he thrust his hips into hers, sending every delicious inch of him deeper inside. Each stroke seemed to tighten her further, the ferocious need for this man sending more liquid heat to soak and ease every driving plunge of his cock through her swollen tissue. Tiny internal muscles clenched around him, increasing the friction, the ecstasy and the agony. Her short nails dug into his head.

“So good. So fucking good.” His head was tucked in her neck and she felt the sharp edge of his fangs, felt hers descend as blood thundered through her body. His thrusts became more powerful, lodging him inside the tender depths of her sex in almost brutal strokes, burying himself to the very heart of her.

Panting for air, she arched her neck back, mouth open, exposing her needle-thin fangs to Santos. “Do it,” His eyes locked on those little fangs with a gleam of hungry anticipation. “Take my blood.”

The thought made her own eyes go glassy. “Santos.”

“I want to feel you in me while I’m in you.” He leaned down and kissed her, cutting his tongue on one of her fangs, tempting her with the drop of his blood. “We’re one, Ria.”

He threw his head back, baring the thick cords in his neck, enthralling her beyond reason. She lowered her head, swiped her tongue over the heady pulse that beckoned, licking the salty taste of his flesh. Opening her mouth, she sank her fangs into him, filled her mouth with his decadent flavor. Every nerve ending was brought to taut, almost painful awareness and then abruptly fragmented under a blast of exquisite sensations that spiraled her toward a blinding darkness. She went shockingly limp from the powerful orgasm, barely hanging on to Santos as he tunneled through her sheath, riding her harder until a fierce growl left his lips and he sank so impossibly deep she felt the hot surge of his semen jetting inside her.

Gasping, chest heaving, Santos slammed a hand on the marble. His body trembled under her. “Holy God. What was that?”

Knowing she didn’t have the strength yet to keep herself upright, she let him continue to hold her weight, smiling dreamily into his shoulder. “Nice orgasm.”

“Fuck that.” With her still wrapped around him like ivy, Santos dropped drunkenly to the shower floor. “It was more like a bomb went off.”

She tilted her head back to see him shaking his. Immediately she went on alert. “Santos? Are you okay? Did I take too much? How many fingers do I have up?”

Grinning like an imbecile, he nipped at her fingers. “Three, and I’m fine. Just. Hell. Damn. Is that how it always feels when a vampire drinks?”

Straddling him, feeling him soften inside her, she quirked a brow. “I’ve never had a vampire drink from me so I wouldn’t know.”

“Only me.” He kissed her, a surprisingly gentle caress after the fierce coupling. “But give me a minute to get my bearings.”

They clung together like shipwreck survivors for a few minutes before separating, rising and washing off. Then they dried off, dressed and went back to Ria’s room for a much needed nap.

* * * *

“I thought you should know that Kalin is dead.”

Ria stared at the man who sat across the table from her and Santos in one of the bar’s wide booths. The dark brown hair was short, marred only by a few scattered gray strands. Gray-blue eyes that mirrored hers stared back. There was no warmth in those eyes, no regret. But then again, she hadn’t expected it and her own reflected the same cool remoteness.

Santos sprawled next to her, though she knew he was capable of vaulting over that table in the blink of an eye should the need arise. His commanding presence, as both protector and lover, was a soothing balm on her heart as she faced a man who should have protected and loved her from the moment of her birth.

At the far back of the bar, Gwen, Melinda, Lance and Andreas resided in another booth. A showing of support as well as backup. Porter lounged with deceptive ease near the front, eyeballing one of Arlon’s bodyguards who stood next to the door. Rome leaned against the far back wall, sizing up the second guard who had settled on a stool at the bar, swiveling to keep his boss in sight.

Tension was thick in the air. One wrong move and Ria knew her cats would lunge into action.

Her cats. Her family. Not the male across from her, but the one beside her. The one who would always care for her, protect her, love her.

Knowing that made it possible for Ria to keep her newly freed emotions under control. “Well, hallelujah.” Or not.

Nothing showed on her father’s face. He might as well have been carved from ice. “Hardly an appropriate remark, Victoria.”

“Ria,” she shot back. “And it’s totally appropriate. In fact, I think I’ll dance over his grave.”

His lips tightened the tiniest bit. “I know he wasn’t an easy man...”

“He was a bastard.” Ria snarled. “He was demented, brutal and enjoyed dolling out punishment for any infraction, even if it was of his own making.”

Lashes came down over eyes so like her own. “Yes. He was strict to the point of cruelty. But only when his orders weren’t obeyed.”

She sneered. “And you obeyed every order, didn’t you?”

“I had no choice.”

“You had plenty of choices. You could have left long ago.”

“And gone where, Victoria?” At her glare he let out a sigh, the first sign of true emotion she had ever seen from him. “He was all I knew. His life all I understood.”

“And you never thought it wrong?” Santos squeezed her thigh with his hand. Not in warning, but reassurance. He’d told her early that morning he would back her no matter what she did. Even if it came to bloodshed. By the look in his eye at the time, she’d seen he actually relished the idea of a little bloodshed. Now, after that silent, physical assurance, his thumb caressed her leg in a gentle pet.

“Not until it was too late.”

What was that supposed to mean? “Too late for what? When you were told to whore me out?” Her voice was low and hard.

Arlon’s expression never changed. “How is it that a sixteen-year old girl managed to escape so easily from a place so well guarded? That a great deal of money was laid out carelessly, easy to steal?”

It was Santos that answered. “You.”

Arlon glanced at Santos, gave a small head tilt before facing Ria once again. “Kalin never wanted you to be with Victor. Anna was three months pregnant when Kalin decided you were more trouble than you were worth. He wanted you dead.” A tight pause. “You reminded him too much of his Mala. His daughter. And every day he laid eyes on you, he was reminded of the single most painful moment in his life.”

Ria slumped in her seat. “You saved my life?”

Arlon’s eyes leveled on her own. “You are my daughter.”

Her lips opened, closed. She needed time to dwell on that simple statement, and now wasn’t it. “The cuffs that were stolen. You can’t have them back.”

“I don’t need or want them back. The surrounding shifter community and I have come to an understanding.”

“What kind of understanding?” Santos asked with deep suspicion.

Arlon turned to Santos, eyes drifting and lingering a moment on the mark on her mate’s neck. Her mark. Her mate. Much to her surprise, he’d worn it with pride. Even now he lifted his chin in an arrogant dare.

“We don’t bother them, they don’t bother us.”

“What? No desire for retaliation after years of hardship under Kalin’s thumb?” Kalin had ruled the surrounding community with intimidation and powerful magic. A feudal system that turned those who lived in the nearby village into slaves.

“They are no longer tied to the estate or the family. They are free to do as they please as long as no harm is done.”

She crossed her arms on the table. “Anna?”

“Still selfish, but well.” Arlon’s head cocked slightly. “You always were the best of us.”

Ria barely managed to keep her jaw from dropping onto the table.

At the same time, Arlon’s watch chimed quietly. “I must go.” He stood, looked down at Ria and Santos. “It’s good to see you happy, Vi...Ria. You have my number if you ever wish to contact me.”

His head dipped in a respectful nod to Santos and then he strolled out the door, his two guards trailing after him.

“Victoria?” Santos asked blandly.

Out of everything that just passed between Ria and Arlon, that’s the only thing Santos wanted to talk to her about? “I shortened it to Ria when I went into hiding.”

“And lengthened your last name to Montgomery instead of Mounte?”

She lifted a shoulder. “Figured it was safer to have a name close to my original. No one in hiding does that.”

A low sound of approval. “Hiding in plain sight, so to speak.”

“Exactly.”

He lifted her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles. “No more hiding.”

Ria peered into those deep eyes and fell all over again. “No more hiding.” She agreed.

“When you’re ready, we’ll go back to New Mexico, gather your belongings and move you back here.”

She blinked, then her eyes narrowed into slits. “Hey. I never said anything about shacking up with you. I have a life and a job to get back to.”

“You have a life here, as well as a job.” Santos calmly asserted.

“And what kind of job do you think I’m going to do around here, because no offense to anyone, but I am not cooking.”

Santos chuckled and kissed her lips. “Annie would probably have a stroke if you did. No. I’m talking about Morgan’s treasure.” When her brows drew down, he smiled. “You still need to locate the other entrance. It could take years. Decades even.”

A tempting offer. One she planned to snap up and run with. Not that she’d let him know. “Oh, really?”

“Definitely. And when you’re not hunting for treasure, there’s oranges to pick, olives to gather and guacamole to make.”

She bit back a mile-wide grin. “Giving me chores already?”

“Never.” He slid a hand around the nape of her neck and leaned in close. “I’m giving you a home. My home.” Warm lips on her forehead. “My family.” A soft kiss on her nose. “My heart.” His mouth caught hers in a fiercely tender kiss.

The beginning beat of the Black-Eyed Peas singing about getting a party started suddenly filled the bar. Ria and Santos both shifted to watch Gwen pull Rome onto the dance floor, followed shortly after by Melinda, Lance and Porter. Andreas settled into a chair at the edge of the open space, and smiled.

“Then again,” Santos quirked a brow at Ria. “Disregard the family part.”

Ria laughed and flung her arms around his neck. “Never. I love my family.” She leaned in and set her lips on his always welcoming ones. “And I love you.”

The End