Quinn's Undying Rose (Scanguards Vampires #6) (11 page)

Before her eyes, his hands turned into claws. In vampire speed, he ripped her jeans to shreds, tossing the destroyed garment to the floor. Her bikini panties followed.

She should feel at least a little scared, yet no such feeling took hold. Instead, her nipples tightened and a steady trickle of moisture made its way to the outer lips of her sex.

Quinn took a steadying breath, hoping Rose didn’t notice that he was practically drooling. She was even more beautiful than he remembered her. Her body was more mature, her hips a little rounder than that night he’d taken her virginity. And her breasts were fuller too. Had the pregnancy done that to her? Was that why she was even more feminine now?

Her skin was still alabaster, her hard nipples a dark tan color, and her lips a deep red. He smelled the scent of her arousal and noticed the dew that glistened on the curls that guarded her sex. As his eyes roamed over her naked body, his anger dissipated. His claws turned back to fingers, but his fangs remained extended. The state of his fangs had nothing to do with anger, and everything to do with lust and desire.

Knowing how close he was to grabbing her and pressing her against the wall, fucking her standing up, he balled his hands into fists. No, he wouldn’t allow her to control him like this. He would fuck her just like any other woman, and after it was over, he would realize that there was nothing special about it, that sex with her would be just like sex with any other woman.

“Lie down.”

Her lips opened as if wanting to protest.

“Now, Rose!”

Maybe she had seen the determination in his eyes, or maybe the fact that he had shredded her pants had finally made it clear to her that he wasn’t joking, but she complied with his request and stretched out on the bed.

She looked like a kitten, her beautiful body contrasted against the dark red sheets, her blond hair fanned out around her like a halo. One leg angled, she made an attempt at hiding her exposed sex from him. Despite the coldness she’d displayed, he had to wonder whether this meant anything to her.

She’d made it clear that she’d seen many men naked. It had been her way of telling him that she’d slept with countless men since he’d deflowered her. Flaunting this fact, was an attempt at angering him, for sure. It shouldn’t matter, yet it did. Knowing that other men had touched her, been inside her, pleasured her, made his blood boil.

His anger was back in an instant. Maybe it was better this way. Maybe the anger he felt inside him would prevent him from making this into more than it was: pure sex. An itch he needed to scratch.

Determined to prove to himself that she meant nothing to him anymore, he lowered himself onto the bed, pushing her legs apart in the process. He noticed how she closed her eyes. He didn’t care. If she didn’t want to look at him, it didn’t matter. She’d gawked at him earlier, and those few seconds when her eyes had roamed his half naked body had given him some satisfaction. If she wanted to deny it now that there were still remnants of desire between them, then he’d allow it.

Smelling her arousal more intensely, now that her legs were spread before him, reminded him of how he’d feasted on her that night, how he’d enjoyed licking her, drinking her nectar. But he wouldn’t do it tonight. This wasn’t lovemaking. It was simply sex. If only he could convince his body of this fact.

Quinn moved between her thighs, centering himself over her sex. Without a word, he drove his aching cock into her, pushing deep.

Her eyes shot open, her lips parting on a moan.

Oh, fuck, he was so screwed!

Her slick warmth welcomed him home, her interior muscles gripping him like a tight fist, holding him there like a prisoner. With one single thrust, he’d sealed his fate. It couldn’t be. It was impossible, but just being inside her, without even moving, without doing anything, he was aware of the power she still had over him. The power she would always have over him.

“Rose,” he whispered, unable to stop his lips from moving.

His hand came up, wanting to caress her cheek, but he quickly suppressed the urge. This wasn’t lovemaking, he repeated his mantra. No emotions, no feelings should be involved. He had to remain unaffected. Maybe once he’d found release, he would feel differently. Maybe then, he would see her as just another woman.

Determined to destroy whatever power she had over him, he withdrew from her tight sheath, then plunged back in. It shouldn’t matter to him what she felt, whether she enjoyed this or didn’t, yet he found himself watching her for signs of pleasure. Every time she let a moan or a sigh emerge, his chest swelled with pride and his cock throbbed in anticipation. He sensed how he adjusted his rhythm to her breathing, how he longed for her hands to touch him.

But her hands remained at her sides. Why didn’t she touch him? He glanced at them and noticed how her nails were digging into the sheets, slicing them.

His head whipped back to her face, and he saw how she pulled her lower lip between her teeth, clearly trying not to cry out.

Fuck, pride be damned! “Touch me, Rose!” he commanded. “Do it!”

She instantly released her lip, a surprised look on her face. But moments later, her hands let go of the sheets and she placed them on his chest, stroking him.

He expelled a shaky breath, followed by a moan. Wherever she touched him, he was on fire. There was no use in denying it: her hands were magical. They conjured up memories of a life long gone, of secret kisses and stolen moments, of clandestine meetings and frantic touches. Of a forbidden love.

Everything felt like the first time. Her hands were just as soft as then, yet the shy hands of his virgin Rose were replaced by the experienced touch of a woman who knew what a man needed. Her nails dug into him, demanding, he’d increase his tempo and pound harder into her. Back then, he hadn’t been able to do that for fear of hurting her, but today he could drive into her as hard as he wanted, and she would welcome him. Her body was as indestructible as his, yet as pliable as ever.

“More!” she demanded, pulling him closer with her legs wrapped around him.

He had no objections. Riding her hard and fast was just what he needed.

The shy virgin from two centuries earlier had vanished. Quinn couldn’t say that he regretted that fact, because the woman who now writhed underneath him, whose body gave him such pleasure, was everything he’d ever dreamed of and more. She’d blossomed into the perfect lover.

Passionate and wild, she tantalized him with unscripted moans and sighs. Her body’s reactions to his powerful thrusts were immediate and raw. And with every slide into her silken softness, he lost himself one bit more. Every second of their bodies dancing in perfect harmony, brought him closer to ecstasy. Release beckoned, but he pulled back, slowed down. He couldn’t allow this to be over yet. It was too good to stop.

So he endured the torture she dealt him: one lash at a time, one slide, one push. And maybe just one kiss. What would be the harm in that?

On the next thrust, he lowered his head to hers, brought his lips down on her mouth and kissed her. It was different this time, not as angry. She greeted him with passion, slid her tongue against his invitingly, asking him to take her. She didn’t have to tell him twice. This time when he invaded her mouth, he did so knowing that she wanted him and that it had nothing to do with the bargain they’d struck. He felt it.

The knowledge catapulted him over the edge. Without warning, his balls tightened, the pressure in them becoming unbearable. Fire shot into his cock, exploding from the tip.

Rose gasped into his mouth.

“Oh, God!” he ground out, ripping his lips from hers.

The waves of his orgasm hit him and whipped him like an Atlantic storm tossing a canoe in the surf. Then another wave crashed, and he realized that this one wasn’t coming from him. It was Rose. Her muscles convulsed around his iron rod, clamping down on him so he couldn’t leave, couldn’t withdraw from her moist cavern. Not that he had any intention of doing so.

He continued riding her, his thrusts slowing and adjusting to her spasms. Captured between her thighs, he moved in and out of her, prolonging the pleasure that coursed through his veins.

When he finally rolled off her, he heard her exhale next to him. He turned his body to face her, angling his elbow and resting his head on his palm.

Maybe they could repair what had gone wrong between them. What he’d just experienced with her had been perfect. He couldn’t just throw that away.

“Tell me what happened back then,” he said softly, stroking his knuckles along her neck.

She evaded his gaze. “We had an agreement. I’ll tell you once Blake is out of danger.”

At her refusal, his heart beat faster, but he wasn’t willing to give up trying. “Why not? Please tell me, Rose. After you got turned, why did you let me believe you were dead?”

Her mouth tightened. “It doesn’t matter.”

Quinn shot up to sit. “It matters to me. I loved you, Rose! I thought you felt the same back then.”

He stared at the empty fireplace, waiting for her answer, knowing what he wanted to hear: a confession of her love. Then whatever else she would tell him wouldn’t matter. Whatever reasons she’d had for never coming to see him, he would understand. If only she’d loved him. Even if she didn’t love him anymore. He could live with that. At least he would try.

“I told you I’ll explain everything later. But Blake is more important right now. He’s in danger and—”

He lifted a hand, stopping her. The knowledge that she was hiding something from him solidified in his stomach and formed tiny painful knots. “I understand,” he ground out. “You love Blake more than you ever loved me. I hope you two are gonna be very happy together.”

Catapulting from the bed, he snatched the towel from the floor.

“Where are you going?”

He didn’t turn but stalked to the door, wrapping the towel around his hips in the process. “Where do you think I’m going, Rose? To my room. We might be still married, but we’re not a couple anymore. We never truly were.”

The words almost choked his airways off and delivered a painful stab into his heart as if somebody were driving a knife into it. God, how much he’d wanted to have her in his arms, listen to her heartbeat as she slept, cradle her, feel her breath ghosting over his skin. And then, at sunset, wake up with her, feel her stir in his arms, her warm body molded to his, her sweet bottom tucked into his groin.

How many days had he dreamt of it? How many times had he wished for the impossible, for a life with Rose? And even now as he slammed the door shut behind him, he knew those dreams hadn’t died. He was irrevocably in love with Rose. For two hundred years he’d kept the love for her alive, and tonight, it had been reaffirmed. She was still his, the wife he’d claimed that fateful night, the woman he couldn’t forget. The one who’d spoiled him for all others.

His plan of purging his love for Rose had failed.

What was he supposed to do now?

12

Rose hated washing Quinn’s scent off, but she knew it was better that way. It was bad enough that her entire body ached pleasantly and that her sex still hummed with aftershocks from . . . well, she couldn’t exactly call it lovemaking. It hadn’t been that. It had been a coupling, a pleasant one, a passionate one. But what had followed had destroyed the moment and reminded her that they could never get back what they’d once had. So she had slammed the door to her heart shut again and bolted it.

Reluctantly, she dressed and poked her head out into the hallway. It was empty. And if she was lucky it would remain so for another hour, until sunset. She hadn’t had a chance to look around the mansion when she’d first entered. Quinn had explained that it was a Bed and Breakfast, and that Scanguards had exclusive use of it.

It was run by a fellow vampire, and according to Quinn, once the B&B was open for business, only vampires would be able to make reservations. Vampires would have to identify themselves with a code word, and all humans would be turned away, claiming there were no vacancies. That explained why the shutters were dark so they wouldn’t let any light in, and why the glass panes appeared to have a special UV coating to reduce the amount of light entering the rooms to a minimum. She assumed that even without the shutters closed, a vampire would be safe on a cloudy or foggy day, and from what she’d heard about San Francisco, there were many of those. Apparently the weather here was a bit like in good old London.

As she walked down the elaborately carved staircase, the plush carpet under her feet absorbed the sound of her steps. Good, she wouldn’t wake Quinn. The less she saw of him, the better. She hoped he would take his time with getting ready, because as soon as the sun was down, she needed to feed. And she hated it when anybody went with her on those hunting trips. She hated being watched as she turned into an animal, a predator. It disgusted her.

That was what she hated most about being a vampire: feeding from humans.

But it was a necessary evil to survive.

Rose looked around the foyer, trying to orient herself. A small sign saying
Kitchen
pointed toward the back of the house. She followed it.

Even before she pushed the double-hinged swinging door open, she knew the kitchen wasn’t empty. Her stomach instantly lurched at the smell of the blood that emanated from the room.

Her eyes flew to the person who stood in front of the open refrigerator, a bottle with red liquid at his lips, his head tilted back as he gulped it down. Drops of blood ran down his chin as he drank greedily. He was young, his hair a messy dark mane. He was barefoot and only wore a pair of jeans, exposing his lean hairless chest. His muscles weren’t as defined as Quinn’s; nevertheless his chest was something nice to look at.

The vampire’s head whipped toward her, his eyes flashing red, his fangs extended as he issued a warning growl. Instinctively she backed away. Interrupting a vampire while feeding could be ugly, even though she wondered why he was drinking from a bottle. Had he drained a human earlier and then stored the excess in the refrigerator for a later snack?