ELEVEN
Drago stood toe-to-toe with Riker, his stomach coiled
in a tight knot. The minute he 'd heard Riker demand Jolene's departure, Drago knew he could never let that happen. Knew he would never be able to walk away from Jolene. Half human or not, she was his mate.
“She's not going anywhere,” Drago ground out between his teeth. Riker spoke with steely words. “I won't have my daughter used as bait.”
“I won't leave Carrie, or any of the other women for that matter,” Jolene insisted. “I won't do it.”
Drago took the opening Jolene gave him, directing the situation away from their mating. He'd prefer to discuss the mating with Jolene before announcing it to her father. “I've spent two years working undercover with Alex,” Drago inserted.
“Dozens of women could be lost forever if my cover is blown.
Jolene has become a part of that cover.”
Riker's arms crossed in front of his chest. “Find another way.” His tone held a command. Drago shackled the heated words he wanted to say. This was Jolene's father, he reminded himself. “Alex found you once. What makes you think he can't get to you again?”
Riker ignored the question. “You called me. I'm here now so you can back the hell off. I'll take care of my daughter.” “Why should I believe that?” Drago challenged, the threat of Jolene leaving firing his temper again. “She can't even reach you when she needs you.” Riker's eyes turned black as midnight, the air crackling with the depth of his anger. His hands dropped to his sides as if he prepared to put them to use. “Who the
hell
are you to judge me, Slayer?” He didn't give him time to respond.
“Nobody.
Nobody is who you are. I'm taking my daughter with me.”
“I can't leave without Carrie!” Jolene declared loudly. Riker cast his daughter a frustrated look and took a step toward her. Drago cut him off. “She stays.”
“Move your ass, Slayer,” Riker hissed. “Or I'll move it for you.” Drago threw caution to the wind. Caution would not keep Jolene by his side or calm Riker. “I have the right to protect her.” He hesitated only a split second and then dropped his bomb. “I'm her mate.” A pregnant silence and then,
“Mate?”
Riker and Jolene spoke the word at the same time. “That's right,” Drago said, pinning Riker in a direct stare, letting Jolene's father see the truth in his eyes. “And she isn't going anywhere without me.”
“I don't understand,” Jolene murmured. “What does that mean?”
“A mate wouldn't put his other half in jeopardy,” Riker argued.
“Involving her with Alex is putting her in jeopardy.”
Drago was losing his temper. “I know how to protect her, Riker.
You, on the other hand, can't seem to protect yourself, let alone her.”
A growl escaped Riker's lips, and Drago knew Riker was ready to fight. At this point, so was he. Before they could charge each other, Jolene pushed between them. One hand on each man's chest, she ensured their separation, her attention shifting from one to the other. “For your information,” Jolene proclaimed. “I am going to do whatever / feel is necessary to get Carrie back. I decide what I do. Period. The end. And both of you, stop talking about me as if I am not here.” She cast Drago a demanding look. “What haven't you told me about you and me that I need to know?”
Riker tried to reason with her, his voice completely different from the one he'd used with Drago. “Sweetheart—“ She cut him off, turning a warning look on him. “Father, I need to hear from Drago.”
Her father hesitated and then nodded, a fierce Slayer brought to his knees by the wrath of his daughter. Drago didn't miss this fact, nor did he miss the concern in Riker's eyes. Riker loved his daughter, and this realization began to calm Drago. He and Riker wanted the same thing: Jolene's safety.
Jolene turned her attention on Drago, demand glinting in her eyes. “Well?” “I wanted to tell you,” Drago began. “In fact, I started to—“ Riker chimed in then. “I'm not even convinced it's true, Jolene.” Drago ignored Riker, restarting where he was interrupted. “The conversation we began about sharing a mental communication path.” Her brows dipped. “That's because we're . .. mates?”
“That's right,” Drago said.
Jolene looked at her father, whose entire demeanor had changed, all signs of hostility gone. “I'm half human. Is what he says possible?” Riker looked uncomfortable. “Maybe we should sit down and talk.”
“Just answer my question, Father. Is what he says possible?”
“Your mother wasn't fully human,” Riker admitted, obviously uncomfortable with the announcement. “She was half vampire.” His eyes lifted and locked with Drago's. “So yes, I believe what he says is valid.” He shifted his attention back to Jolene. “A mental path would only be shared with a blood relative or mate. Drago most certainly is
not
a blood relative.”
Jolene's face had turned pale, her expression confused. Drago reached out and rested his hand on her shoulder, unable to stop himself. He'd never offered comfort to another living soul, yet he couldn't seem to help doing so with Jolene.
“Maybe we should sit down and talk,” he offered softly. She nodded, her gaze probing his for several seconds. “Yes,” she agreed. “We most definitely need to talk.”
TWELVE
Jolene sat in the chair she 'd occupied earlier, reeling
from the information she'd just received. Her father stood by the fireplace, Drago behind the couch; both men appeared to be as on edge as she felt.
“I don't understand,” Jolene said. “Why would I not know this about my mother?” She watched emotion flash across her father's features. “It's complicated,” he said. “Not telling you was a choice your mother felt strongly about. At least not until you were older.” “I still don't get it,” Jolene said, frustrated. “Why in the world would something like that be kept from me?”
Riker scrubbed his jaw. “You have to understand the history to understand the reasons for your mother's choice. I knew the minute I
met her that she was my mate.” He drew a breath. “But she was half
human. There are doctors within our race who believe that represents
a risk. That to complete the mating process, to seal our bond forever,
might even have killed your mother. The longer I was with your
mother though, the more certain I was they were wrong. She was my mate. I felt it with every breath I drew. I wanted to move forward and seal our bond.”
“But that would risk her life,” Jolene argued. “How could you want that?” “Sealing our bond would have given her the life span of a vampire and none of the physical weakness of a human. And Jolene, if you are indeed Drago's mate, you know it. You feel it. A true mate isn't going to die sealing that bond. The doctors had simply never seen two mates who were not wholly vampire. Make no mistake. Your mother was my mate, and I will never forgive myself for not fully claiming her. She might be alive today had I pressed harder.”
Jolene digested her father's words, her gaze shifting to Drago.
Their eyes locked and held, and she felt that contact clear to her toes. In human terms, she barely knew Drago, yet she knew him as well as she did herself. She didn't know what that meant about her future, but she knew she couldn't ignore what existed between them. “I had almost convinced your mother to follow through with our mating, but she became pregnant,” her father said, drawing her attention back to him. “Mating would have risked your safety.” “What about after I was born?”
“She wouldn't even consider leaving you alone and her death would have done that.” He corrected himself.
“Did
do that.” His gaze took on a turbulent look.
Jolene's chest tightened as she thought of her mother's sacrifice for her. And of her father's actions since. “You shut me out,” she whispered. “You weren't even here for me when she died.” He dropped his head for several seconds, and then fixed her in a tormented stare. “She lived as a human. I was afraid to be around her, to draw danger to her.” He shook his head, his lips forming a grim line. “I tried as hard as I could to protect her, and still she ended up dead. Now you're in danger, too.”
His words swept over her and then sank deep, cutting like a knife. “You're telling me that it's not your duties as a Slayer that keep you away?” Jolene demanded. “You chose to stay away from both of us?” “I was trying to protect you.”
She pushed to her feet, anger and hurt churning inside and growing with each passing second. “Do me a favor,” Jolene spat at Riker. “Spare me the protection. It's painful.” With that, she rushed from the room, needing space to think it all through. Afraid if she said more she'd regret it later.
She slammed her door shut and curled up on the bed. Tears came and she let them for the first time in years. Tears to cleanse what she couldn't change. To allow her to face her future, whatever that might be. Her mother was gone. Her father absent. Carrie was lost and in danger. Everything she'd known to be true in her life had been a facade. The future felt uncertain and full of unsettling change—change that involved Drago now. And she had to deal with the implications of his presence. He would come for her soon, and he would try to claim her as his mate. The question was—what would she do when he did?
This pleased her, but there was one other thing that males of the vampire race were known for. “I've lived as a human, Drago. I won't take orders from you.” “What if those orders are meant to protect you?” She shook her head. “No matter how you package an order, it's an order.” She tilted her head to the side. “Are you willing to share control or not, Drago?”
“Well?” Jolene challenged.
Drago stared down at Jolene's delicate little hands as they settled on the top of his thighs. He'd been rock hard since she sat down next to him, struggling to contain a desire to rip her jeans off her and bury himself inside her.
“With you, I'll share all things,” he finally managed, forcing his gaze to hers. She ran her palms up his thighs. Slowly. Her tongue slid along her full bottom lip. As if she couldn't wait to taste him. Hell, he couldn't wait. Yet, for some reason, he knew he had to keep his restraint in place. Drago held his breath, shackling the hunger burning within him. For some reason, he was afraid to move. Afraid it might make her turn him away.
Easing his legs apart, she stepped between them. They were chin to chin now, and the deep, dark green in her eyes sparked with a hint of challenge. She fingered the material of his T-shirt and her hands crawled beneath the hem to touch his skin. “You say you want to protect me.” He gave a short nod. “I imagine you justified tying me up back at Purple Magic to protect me, too.” He narrowed his gaze on her. “I did.” She brushed his nipple and scraped a nail over it, and it was all he could do to keep from reaching for her.
“To save me.”
“I did what I had to.”
A smile played on her lips as she molded his chest with her cool, soft palms. “Will you do what you have to do now? To prove you can share the control?”
His brow lifted, and his body tingled with the need to pull her close. To feel her lush curves next to his. “How exactly do you propose I do that?”
She reached down and took one of his hands in hers. “Let
vie
tie
you
up.” Drago went completely, utterly still. He'd never in all his two centuries of living given that kind of control to anyone. Not under any circumstances. But this was Jolene, his mate, and for the first time in his life, he understood the power that held. And he gave in to it. He pushed to his feet, more than willing to let her have her way with him.
THIRTEEN
Jolene intended to test Drago. To tame him in the process.
He stood in the doorway of the bedroom, his watchful gaze potent as she removed two long scarves from a drawer. One red, one black. She'd never played dominant in the extreme way she planned to now, but anticipation of doing so sent little pulses of heat darting through her body. Ready to begin their game, Jolene cast Drago a steely look full of command. “Get undressed and lay on the bed.” She would be leaving her clothes on, just as he had in the club.
He didn't move at first, and for a moment, she thought he might refuse. But then, without words, he began doing her bidding. Jolene leaned against her dresser, enjoying the show as he exposed sinewy muscle and taut, bronzed skin. When he finally stretched out on the mattress, her mouth watered at the sight of him. Her gaze traveled the length of his delicious body, taking in the perfection, lingering on the muscular thighs she'd felt beneath her palms only minutes before.
He was hard, his cock ready for her. It pleased her to know that he was aroused, that giving away the power didn't change his desire for her.
She forced her eyes upward, taking in the tapered waist and broad chest sprinkled with just the right amount of dark hair. When she finally allowed her eyes to meet his, she allowed the depths of her desire to show. At the club, she had feared what she felt for him. Feared what she didn't understand. There was no reason to hide it now. She wanted. He wanted. It was as it should be. Yet what she found in the depth of his stare surprised her. She saw . . . vulnerability. Oh, there was lust. Desire. Heat. But beyond all those emotions, the vulnerability lived. To give himself to her in this way was new to him. Her stomach fluttered with excitement at this realization. She walked to the edge of the bed and trailed one of the scarves up his calf, then his thigh. And because she couldn't resist, she let it caress his shaft. It jerked in response and he began to reach for her. She took a step backward and pointed at him. “Hands to your sides.” He inhaled heavily and she felt his edginess. His lust. The tightly wound primitive desire to take her. Their eyes locked in a standoff of sorts and silently, she dared him to act. Dared him to prove he couldn't truly share the power.
The breath he'd been holding gushed from his lips, and he let his arms drop to the bed, submission in his actions. She waited a moment, cautious to ensure he was well under control. Then, and only then, she stepped forward, reaching for one of his wrists, tying a scarf around it and then tying it to the metal post above the bed. She repeated her actions with the other wrist.
Sensing his uneasiness, she sat beside him, her hand gently cupping his jaw, the roughness of his dark stubble beneath her palm. His gaze probed hers, as if trying to find some sort of malicious intent, some reason to reclaim control.
She reached for his mind, pleased to find she could connect, that her memories of their communication path were true.
Trust me.
After a moment, his gaze softened.
It is not my trust in you that is
being questioned. Its yours.
And then the most amazing thing happened. They shared a look so tender, so intense, she could barely breathe. In that moment, she knew, without any doubt, no matter what the future held, she loved this man. It was crazy. Ridiculous even. They'd only just met. Still it was true. There were none of the insecurities of a human marriage in the vampire world. A vampire soul knew its mate. She reached out and touched his bottom lip, so sensual and full, and shivered with the contact, amazed at how the littlest things impacted her with Drago. He had a strong face. A face full of strength and character. A face full of life, pain and darkness . . . but she knew he'd felt no love and she wanted to change that. She knew this from touching his mind, from touching his soul. And somehow, she knew she was meant to heal his wounds, to make him whole. With that thought she stood up, no longer wanting to play a game. She wanted to make love to her man. She undressed, forcing herself to go slow when she wanted to rip her clothes off and press her body close to his.
He watched her, primal heat in his hot stare, devouring her body, ravishing her in the most intimate of ways. His eyes caressed her breasts, her thighs, the touch more sensual, more potent than most men could achieve with their hands.
Jolene climbed on top of the bed and settled between his thighs. She hungered to simply feel him inside her, and she had to remind herself of her purpose. Tying him up was a test. A way to find out if he could really allow her to be an equal before she bound herself to him for all eternity.
She settled her hands on his knees, doing a slow slide up his thighs,
enjoying the flex of muscles beneath her palms. Lingering at the V of
his legs, she eased her hands around his sac, teasing him, knowing what he really wanted, where he really needed her touch. He moaned in response, satisfaction filling her with the sound, urging her onward in her exploration.
Her hand wrapped around his shaft, feeling him grow beneath her grip. Her nipples ached with arousal and she leaned into him, brushing them across the soft head of his cock—one and then the other, trembling with the tiny pricks of burning pleasure the act created. She could feel her core growing wetter. Hotter. More needy. It would be so easy to just climb on top of him and ride.
Instead, she fed his hunger for her another way, teasing his cock with a soft whisper of air blown from her lips. His hips bucked, lifting. He was trying to get her to take him in her mouth.
Jolene flattened her hand on his stomach, smiling at his actions. Loving this feeling of control. “You might have to learn some patience after all.”
She filled her hands with her breasts, touching herself as he seared her with his scorching stare, and then fitted his shaft between them. Instantly, he pumped his hips, sliding back and forth. She was half panting now, aroused and starting to lose control. She stroked her nipples with her thumbs, trying to end the ache that seemed only to build and grow larger, more demanding. Pressing her to take things higher and hotter. Driven by this need, she pulled away from him, wrapping his shaft with her palm, and lapping at the head with a long stroke of her tongue. The salty proof of his arousal told her just how excited he was.
Wanting all of him, every bit of pleasure and submission he had to give, she drew him into her mouth, sucking him hard and deep. He was the one panting now, moaning. Using her hand as a guide, she pumped him, urging his hips into action. Working him over and over, with all she had. Her lips. Her tongue. Her hand.
But she didn't let him come. The minute she knew he was approaching release, she pulled back, blowing on the tip again. Taking him back down a bit. She licked him like she might an ice cream cone, from top to bottom, and then repeated the act. She wanted to continue to pleasure him, to tease him, but her body screamed for relief, for him inside her.
Caving to her need, Jolene straddled him, guiding him with her hand. Taking his cock inside her, she did a slow slide down his length until she took him all. She leaned forward, hands on his chest, ready to ride him, to feel him, to go beyond the burn of anticipation. But her eyes locked with his and she went still.
They stared at one another, intimately joined, the sexual play of moments before falling away, replaced by something deeper, more emotional and intense. Warmth spread through her in all ways possible, through her body and soul, a feeling unlike anything she'd ever experienced in her lifetime. A feeling of pleasure and peace, sensuality and sweetness. An unexplainable sense of completeness. “If you must leave me tied up, at least kiss me,” he said softly, no demand in his voice. Only tenderness.
Suddenly, she wanted him free. Wanted the mutual touch. The feel of lovemaking. She leaned forward and tugged at the silk on one of his wrists. The instant he was free, his hand inched into her hair and pulled her mouth to his. He kissed her with such passion, such potent perfection, she couldn't even begin to think about the other scarf. When he tore his mouth from hers, his breathing heavy, he pinned her in a sultry stare. “Did I pass your test?”
“Yes,” she whispered, reaching for the wrist that remained tied.
Good Lord, he passed, and then some.
His hand went to hers, stilling her action. “Don't do that unless you are prepared to become mine, Jolene. I don't trust myself not to take you.”
There was no question left for her. She felt him as the other half of her soul. How could she turn away? “I want you, Drago.” He didn't give her time to respond, yanking at the scarf and proving he could have freed himself all along. Perhaps the scarves had been a mental barrier for him more so than a physical one. He'd contained himself for her, for his mate. And to Jolene, this proved more than any binding rope.
Drago pulled her tight against his body, molding her with his hand, his hips beginning to pump, his cock making an erotic slide inside her body. They became one; time didn't exist. Their kisses, their touches, their movements consuming all else. Jolene couldn't get enough of him. Couldn't get close enough. Couldn't take him deep enough. As if answering the silent cry she screamed for more, Drago's teeth sank into her neck. The world seemed to spin around her then, perhaps because she knew this was the beginning of forever. Erotic sensations danced along her nerve endings and she melted into his body, chest to chest, her stomach pressed to his. Amazingly, she felt her mouth water, her desire to taste him as intense as her desire to feel him move inside her. Instinctively, she knew that to drink of him, as he had of her, would seal their bond. And she wanted it. She wanted that more than life itself.
Drago.
She whispered the desperate cry in his mind, and he responded, pulling back from his bite and sealing her wound. His hands framed her face. “If I give you what you want, what you crave at this moment, there is no turning back.” She didn't have to think. “I don't want to turn back.” He studied her a moment and then brought his wrist to his mouth, biting himself and then pressing it to her lips. The first drop of coppery crimson touched her lips and she moaned, her teeth elongating. A second later, he pulled his wrist away and she knew what to do.
She leaned forward, and sunk her teeth into his neck. He moaned,
erotic and deep, and she felt his cock stir inside her again, felt herself
responding to his arousal in a primal, animalistic way. She drank deeper, moving with him, desperate for all he could give her, all he had to offer, all she could take. And like the bittersweet taste of the first sip of wine, she felt her release begin to form. She tore her mouth from his neck, barely finding the control to seal his wound before kissing him. And kiss him she did. With more hunger than she'd ever felt in her life. Feeling each stroke of his tongue, each stroke of his cock, with the intensity of a firestorm. She rocked on top of him, a frenzied rush toward release until she exploded with such force it completely stole her breath.
In her mind, she called his name, but her lips could not. She felt him arch his hips, felt him shutter and shake, heard him in her mind as well. Heard him moan. Heard him call her his mate. And she wished this moment never had to end.
Drago answered her wish with a whisper and a promise. “We have forever, Jolene.” She sighed with the sweet bliss of complete, utter satisfaction. The kind she'd never felt, never known, until Drago, and she repeated his words because they sounded so perfect.
We have forever.