The Witching Hour (The Grim Reaper Saga (Urban Fantasy Romance)) (30 page)

One last look at her darkened window and he let his feet lead him to where his heart had belonged all along.

Eve heard the knock like a resounding boom through her skull, scowling, she stalked to her door.

She gave serious consideration to just not opening it. It was almost one in the morning and the only thing she wanted now was to lay down. She was physically drained, angry, hurt, last thing she wanted was to deal.

So she couldn’t understand the fluttering of the heart, twisting of the gut compulsion to go and open the door. She pulled it open.

There he stood. Her fantasy. Her desire. Almost as if by thinking about him she’d conjured him up.

He was dripping wet, his long multi-hued hair hanging in his face, drops of rainwater falling to a puddle at his feet. His clothes clung to his body like second skin, highlighting the sharp grooves and flat planes of muscle.

Deep blue eyes sparkled with pain and she felt it. For the first time she experienced what it was to feel another’s pain. It was a wrenching entity filling her with a choking sense of loss. Tears filled her eyes at the ferocity of it and her heart responded.

“I thought you weren’t coming back.”

“I have to find out what’s happening between us,” his voice broke with need and unspoken desire.

Her lashes fluttered and liquid heat crashed between her thighs, making her instantly hot and ready. The need was elemental and primitive, surging from some deep recess inside her. It was more than lust, it was ancient and deep, twisting inside her and forcing her to obey.

And she knew she should be mad at him for ditching her the way he had. But she couldn’t. Hadn’t she done the same to him? Whatever was going on between them, she knew, she wasn’t the only one feeling it.

Eve stepped into his arms and from there it was bedlam. She lost herself to the glorious madness.

Cian picked her up, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist as he stepped inside, kicking the door shut. A mimic of what they’d done only an hour earlier. Would they finish what they’d started this time? Goddess she hoped so, prayed so.

The scent of rain and salt filled her head, she licked at his exposed neck, sucking and biting. Her hands were frantic as she tried to rip the shirt from him.

He growled, the sound was animalistic and she responded by raking her nails down his back. Hard.

“Eve. Eve,” he whispered in a rush in her ear, running his hand down her hair and dropping to his knees on the ground.

She exposed her neck to him, lost to the liquid heat of passion burning through her veins. He scraped long fangs down her neck, biting, but not piercing the flesh.

She hissed, her skin tingling and sensitive. Her nipples hardened and scraped against the lace of her bra which suddenly felt too confining. Eve moaned when his hand grazed her breast and she wrapped him tighter in her embrace.

“Feels so good,” she whispered.

His fingers were clumsy as he tried to undo the buttons of her shirt. She ran her fingers through his wet hair, scratching the scalp and wriggling her bottom on his blood engorged thickness.

“Rip it, Cian. Tear it off, I don’t care,” she panted. Only knowing the thing needed to come off now.

He fisted the shirt in his hands and tore. Buttons zipped through the air. One landed against her cheek, she barely paused to register the sting. Her body was as soaked as his, a wanton rush of adrenaline hummed through her as she yanked on his shirt.

Then his mouth slammed down on hers, teeth collided and tongues dueled in a kiss of fierce possession. Her head swam with fuzz, her body burned with flames.

Still she yanked on his shirt, but it was so wet it hardly budged at all.

“Off!” she exploded with frustration and pulled back to try and somehow shuck him out of the thing.

“Forget it, Eve.” He hooked his finger behind the clasp of her bra and yanked, it snapped off. She pulled her arms out of the straps and threw the bra behind her head, where it landed she didn’t care.

She pressed her breasts flat against the freezing wetness of his shirt. The combination of heat and cold had shivers traveling down her spine.

He lowered his head, grabbing one breast and beginning to knead, while his tongue flicked at the nipple of the other. The cold leather against the warmth of her skin had goose bumps running a race down her arms.

She wished he’d take the things off. But it didn’t matter. Not right now. Not while he was touching her and looking at her with dark heat in his eyes. Maybe later.

A grunt fell from her lips as pleasure tightened its hold inside her. Blood rushed through her veins. She wanted him, everything he had to give and nothing would stop her this time.

To ease the ache building in her loins, she rubbed herself against his thigh.

His tongue circled her nipple, the heat of his mouth made her jerk in response. He twisted the other nipple between his fingers and she screamed, her mind and body exploding with sharp bursts of warm pleasure. A heaviness settled between her thighs, she needed to be filled, possessed.

“Oh, Cian. Now,” she said, as she somehow managed to unzip his jeans. The velvet steel of his shaft almost leaped out at her. Her fingers grazed the warm flesh and she licked her lips in anticipation.

She wrapped both hands around him, fingers barely even meeting. He was thick and long and perfect. He hissed, tremors traveled his body. His breathing was hard and heavy.

Cian tugged at the elastic band of her pants. She lifted herself up enough for him to shove the pants down and then unable to wait even another second, impaled herself on him.

He hissed, cupping her with his palm. She felt stretched, filled almost to the point of pain. But with the pain came incredible pleasure and she rode him hard, her cheek pressed against his. Wet hair clung to her brows.

She closed her eyes and lost herself in the movement. Their scent. He pumped into her harder, forcing her slick heat to pound up and down on him at a furious pace.

Their bodies slapped together and blood rushed to her center. She gasped and hugged his neck. White stars danced behind her eyes. Muscles contracted, reaching a crescendo. A spiral of heat traveled down her spine, filled her limbs, and had her on the brink of orgasm.

He bit her neck and that was her undoing. A frenzied explosion of exquisite fire. She arched back into the blossoming flames. Her breathing came in short gasps and her nails dug into his arms.

“Eve,” he roared, his thickness contracting with the tide of his own climax.

It took a second for her to come back to herself, but when she did she smiled and nuzzled the side of his neck, feeling more whole and complete than she ever had in her life. Reluctantly she opened her eyes.

He sighed and embraced her, holding her to him like a fragile doll. There was such strength in his hands and yet he was gentle, his fingers idly trailing a path down her spine.

“I guess this is the part where I say, hi Cian.”

He laughed, a deep, throaty sound filled with inflections.

“I’m glad you came back.”

“Me too.”

“Why you’d leave?” Seemed kind of dumb to ask this question, now. Especially after what just happened, but she was still a little confused and hurt. Though she had no right to be, they hadn’t set boundaries, pot/kettle moment for her, but still… she had to know.

He twisted his lips, running his hand through her hair. “I thought I had someplace to be. But I realized it wasn’t as important as being here with you. I’m sorry, Eve. I’m so sorry.”

His words nearly brought tears to her eyes. Not so much what he said, but how he said them. A deep, wrenching heartache poured from his lips. It still didn’t explain why he’d left. Maybe he had skeletons too. Painful secrets buried deep. And like Cian had told her before. Who was she to judge? She understood all about those skeletons. In the end she was just grateful he’d come back.

Maybe someday he’d feel comfortable enough to share those with her, but in the meantime she wouldn’t hold it against him.

She smiled and placed a tender kiss against his lips. He sighed, leaning his forehead against hers. They sat that way for a while. Just holding on. Two wounded hearts seeking and finding solace in one another.

After a moment, a cold drop of water slid from his hair down on her chest. Glancing down, she instantly became aware of the embarrassing state of her clothes. Or rather the tattered remains of them. Her breasts were hanging free, each button on her shirt gone, hidden only goddess knew where. She felt like a wanton compared to the still dressed Cian.

“I’d better put something on,” she laughed.

He looked at her, the wild lust gone, but the heat still glittering in the depths of his royal blue eyes. “I think this look suits you.” He ran his hand down the corner of her breast.

Warmth fluttered anxious wings in her belly. Even after that she still wanted him. He rocked his hips. She smiled. He wasn’t as hard as before but he was definitely getting there. Her heart beat a rapid cadence to see them still joined at the hips. The air between them sparked with eroticism.

She bit her lip. “You keep that up and I might have to have my way with you again.”

He chuckled, kissing the tip of her nose. “I don’t think I’d mind that at all.”

Though she didn’t want to rip herself away from him just yet, she also didn’t want him catching chill. He was soaked to the bone and her right along with him. She stood, hugging her shirt shut.

“First things first, you need to get warmed up.” She couldn’t help but glance down at him. A greedy smile played on her lips. Butterfly’s dipped and dived remembering the feel of him inside her.

“I’m fine,” he grinned, noticing her gaze as he slipped himself back inside his pants. He stood and grabbed her hand. “But if you insist I know something that can warm me.”

She snorted, slapping her palm against his chest, unable to resist giving the firm muscle beneath a small squeeze. “You vampires. Think you’re so tough. Even you guys can’t walk around with soaked clothes all night long. For one night, let me baby you.”

Hearing her call him a vampire yet again made the full weight of the lies crash down around him, there wasn’t much he could do for her, but he could give her truth. And maybe in the end when he was gone she’d remember that at least he’d done that for her. “Eve, I have something I need--”

In a matter of seconds he watched the smile on her face slowly slip and the golden eyes lose their luster. She gave a crooked smile and placed cold fingertips against his cheek. “First we get warm. Then if you still need to,” her mouth turned down, “we’ll talk.”

Tendrils of her confusion and fear skated down his spine. Eve was procrastinating. As if somehow she instinctively knew this conversation was one she wouldn’t want to hear.

A hollow ache spread through his chest. Each time he put this off it made it all the more difficult. But he couldn’t ignore the entreaty in her gaze.

“Alright. Later.”

Relief smoothed her brows. “Good,” she sighed and walked toward her bedroom, stopping at a closet and tossing him some clothes. “Put those on. Should fit. Give me a second to get out of this and meet me in my bedroom in say... two minutes?”

He nodded and she walked away.

There was a time and place for everything. What sense was there in rushing to tell her? She’d find out soon enough and it didn’t seem like she was in a hurry to know at that.

Looking down at the carpet, a vision of her slick skin sliding along his, burned his vision. Cian’s scalp tingled. Now she wanted him to join her in the bedroom, and there was no way he’d be able to stop himself from making love to her again.

He closed his eyes for a brief moment. She’d said two minutes. It was nearly that. He glanced down at his wet clothes, quickly stripped and put on what she’d tossed him--a baggy pair of lounging pants and white shirt.

“Cian, you coming or what?” Eve asked walking out into the hallway, wearing a navel baring top and short white shorts. She stopped, her mouth tipping at the corners, golden eyes turning round with delight. “Nice.”

Her obvious perusal heated his veins.