Edge of Passion (36 page)

She had claimed him, and he was now irrevocably tied to her. At that knowledge, his body dissolved into waves of pleasure, his cock exploding inside her just as Leila’s orgasm crested and swept him away. Floating in an ocean of love, weightless, timeless, he pulled her face to his and captured her lips, drinking her in.

And like an endless cycle, he shared more
virta
with her as she continued to pour it back into his heart, their bodies fused in passion, their love confirmed, their lives together ahead of them.

“Mine forever,” he murmured against her lips.

“For eternity.”

Then another orgasm claimed her and tore him with her. He knew his ability to speak or think wouldn’t come back for hours. But who needed to think and speak when he could feel instead?

EPILOGUE

Zoltan took a reluctant bow before the Great One. Before he could straighten to his full height, the leader of the Demons of Fear rose to his feet and took a step toward him.

“You’ve failed!” he thundered, the sound of his voice echoing in the vast, deep cave where he held court.

Zoltan clenched his jaw shut, fury coursing through him. He had already had the drug in his hands without knowing it. That knowledge gnawed at him. He’d been so close. And now, everything was lost: the scientist was dead. He’d seen it with his own eyes. Later, the medical examiner had confirmed that it was her body that had burned in the wreckage. The Cloak Warrior’s body hadn’t been found. It didn’t surprise him. He would have been able to escape the inferno.

The sharp tips of his claws emerged from his fingertips, evidence that the anger that boiled inside him was getting stronger and would not be so easily subdued today. He wasn’t in the mood to be taken to task over his failure, even less so knowing ten of the Great One’s guards were watching his humiliation.

“An accident,” Zoltan pressed out, even though he had his doubts about it. What if the Cloak Warriors had in the end decided to kill the scientist after all, realizing it was safer for them that way?

“There are no accidents!”

Zoltan raised his gaze. “No, there aren’t.”

But his leader wasn’t done admonishing him. “I believed in your capabilities. You assured me that this woman would be easy pickings, that the drug would be ours. And now, Drago, what have you got to say for yourself?”

Zoltan listened to his birth name, but didn’t like the sound anymore. He had changed. He wasn’t going to cower any longer. He saw himself as the new leader. And the name he’d chosen for himself, the name of a successful entrepreneur, one he’d had to kill after he’d resisted his influence, suited him fine. He’d in fact admired the man for his strength. Yes, his new name, Zoltan, reflected that strength.

“My name is Zoltan now.”

The Great One advanced, bringing them within a foot of each other. “I decide what your name is, boy. I’m your leader. And your chances of becoming my heir died with that woman. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, I understand fully,” Zoltan replied and pulled his dagger, driving it into his leader’s stomach.

Realization flashed in the demon’s eyes as Zoltan drew the dagger upwards, slicing him open. Green blood and guts spilled, and gurgles escaped his dying leader’s mouth.

“I don’t need you to declare me your heir anymore. I’m taking what’s mine, old man.”

Then he kicked him backwards, dislodging the dagger from his gut. With preternatural speed he turned, witnessing as the guards stared at him in shock, ready to attack.

Zoltan squared his stance. “Are you ready to die for your dead leader, or would you rather live and serve the new Great One?”

He waited, feeling power surge in him, never taking his eyes off his opponents. They exchanged glances.

“Then bow before me!”

One by one, the demon guards lowered their swords and fell on their knees. With satisfaction, Zoltan turned to the throne and took it, molding his broad back against the cold stone.

“Things are about to change. The Cloak Warriors will feel my wrath.” He stared at the demons who were now under his command and smiled to himself.

“Soon, very soon,” he murmured under his breath.

THE END

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Excerpt of Zane’s Redemption (Scanguards Vampires #5)

Copyright 2011 Tina Folsom

Zane wore what he always wore: tight-fitting jeans, a black long-sleeved shirt, and boots that looked like he could kick the shit out of someone with them. His leather coat hung over a chair near the entrance. And damn it if that simple outfit didn’t make him look like sex-on-a-stick. Why Lauren insisted his bald head was unattractive, Portia didn’t understand. She had, in fact, never seen anybody who carried the loss of hair off the way Zane did, with his ‘take it or leave it’ kind of attitude, as if he didn’t give a shit what anybody thought of him. Maybe that’s what she liked most about him.

Liked? That was too strong a word. She didn’t really ‘like’ him—more like she had the hots for him—and that was a totally different cup of tea. ‘Like’ had nothing to do with it.

“Are you done looking?” Zane grunted.

Shit! She hated it when he called her on it like that. She could only hope that she hadn’t been drooling.

“Not much to see; you’re wearing too many clothes.”

His head shot up, his narrowed eyes glaring at her. “That kind of talk is dangerous.”

She took a few steps in his direction, easing closer. “Afraid of me?” Surprised at her own boldness, her pulse beat faster and more erratic than before.

He scoffed. “Don’t you have homework to do, baby girl?”

Annoyance kicked in, lending her courage. “If you think by calling me ‘baby girl’ you can fool yourself into thinking I’m not a grown woman, go ahead.”

Zane’s knuckles gripping the magazine turned white. She was clearly getting to him, just as she’d anticipated. Unfortunately, however, instead of turning him on, she was pissing him off. Perhaps she wasn’t that good on the flirting front. And why would she be? She’d never felt the need to flirt with anyone before, so she’d never bothered.

“I don’t care if you’re a grown woman. How often do I have to repeat myself? I’m NOT INTERESTED in you!”

Shocked by his violent outburst, she swiveled on her heels and headed for the kitchen. “Liar,” she mumbled to herself before she tore the door open and went for the fridge.

Well, that was going brilliantly! Lauren had warned her that a man like Zane wouldn’t be swayed easily. After this disaster she had to check in with her friend to see how she should proceed now. Lauren had a lot more experience with men. She would come up with something to salvage the situation.

Portia grabbed a coke, needing the sugar and caffeine rush, and closed the fridge door.

A split-second later, she found herself pressed against the cool stainless steel surface. Zane’s face was inches from hers. The coke can dropped from her grip and landed on the floor, making a loud noise on the tiles.

His teeth clenched, Zane issued his warning, “Never call me a liar!”

Her chest heaved from the sudden effort of breathing, her boobs pressing against his lean body with each breath, her nipples chafing and reacting instantly. When she tilted her hips forward, one realization infused her with courage to speak: he was sporting an erection.

“I’d call you lover, but you give me no choice.”

Zane closed his eyes, his nostrils flaring at the same moment. “I’ll never be your lover,” he countered, all anger drained from his toneless voice. “Go play with somebody else before you start something you can’t handle.”

He thought she couldn’t handle him? He was wrong! She would prove it to him.

Abruptly, Zane released his hold on her, but before he could step back, she framed his face with her hands and pressed her lips to his.

“Don’t,” he whispered but didn’t pull back.

Portia licked her tongue over the seam of his lips, urging him to surrender. A thrill charged through her body when Zane moved. His lips parted, and the next moment she felt herself sandwiched between the fridge door and his hard body.

Her hands dropped from his face to wrap around his neck, making sure he wouldn’t change his mind.

“You’ll regret this,” he murmured against her lips.

“I won’t.”

“I know
I
will.” But despite his contradicting comment, he stroked his tongue against her lips before he delved into her, capturing her mouth in a move indicating ultimate possession. He held her so tightly, not even with her hybrid strength would she have been able to escape him had she wanted to.

Zane kissed her as if he wanted to punish her, his tongue the whip that lashed her until she was raw, his lips the ties that bound her to him as his hands traveled over her torso in a frantic race to touch every inch before either of them had a change of mind.

Tasting the raw hunger in his kiss, the obvious desperation to possess and devour, Portia’s heart recognized her own need: to give herself to this man, this vampire, and to surrender to her desires, desires she’d never felt before. Everything was new and unknown. How had she lived until now without knowing what a touch and a kiss could do, how it could consume a person like a wildfire consumed a forest, leaving nothing behind but a charred surface?

That’s how she felt, her skin seared as if hot lava touched her instead of the sensual long fingers of the most enticing man—human or vampire—she’d ever met.  And those fingers did things to her, incredible things, exciting things: their touch was poison and soothing medicine all at once, first stirring up her insides, then calming them.

Their rhythm matched her breath, the tremors inside her reaching earthquake levels. Wherever Zane’s body connected with hers, she burned—and burned for more. Like an addict, she pulled him closer, moaning her approval and her surrender in one breath. Yet he didn’t seem to understand, continuing to unleash his devastating sexual prowess onto her when he could have stripped her of her clothes already and be driving into her without preamble.

Portia ripped her lips from his. “Take me now.”

Zane didn’t listen. His response was a growl, a sound only an animal could make. His eyes were glowing a deep orange, and his breath rushed from his lungs. Without a response, he took her mouth again, continuing where he’d left off as is she’d never interrupted.

Trying to ease the ache between her thighs, Portia drew up one leg and wrapped it around his thigh, making him press closer. She felt the hard outline of his erection against her soft core and rubbed herself against him, trying to find relief.

A groan rumbled from his chest and reverberated against her ribcage. One of his hands went to her backside, hauling her fully against him, increasing the friction between their bodies.

She went on tip toes to feel his erection pressing lower where her clit throbbed in concert with her heartbeat. Her hands went to his ass, her nails digging into the jeans she wished he wasn’t wearing.

All of a sudden, Zane lifted her, forcing her legs farther apart, compelling her to wrap them around his hips as he thrust against her.

The fridge behind her rattled, containers inside tumbling from the shelves. She didn’t care. Every time he thrust, his cock hit that little bundle of nerves that was swollen and aching for release. All she could think of was for him not to stop, for this never to end.

“I need …” she whimpered against his lips, unable to control her body’s reactions any longer.

A moment later, she felt his fangs grazing her lip, nipping slightly. Her nose detected blood, but her tongue would never taste it, because Zane licked her blood off her lips and swallowed it.

“Fuck!” he cursed and closed his eyes.

She didn’t know what he meant, nor did she care. “More!” As her hips ground against him, his cock dragging over her clit with every movement, she pulled his head back to her.

End of Excerpt

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