“Take me,” she repeated.
He pulled back from her only to slip a single finger inside her sleek walls. He directed the pressure of his hand upward, fingering the telltale softness of her easily located G-spot. Thank you, Anatomy and Physiology 101, he thought. Another gush of wetness flooded his hand.
“Oh, God, Shane, take me,” she moaned.
He increased the pressure, using his free hand to remove his last layers of clothing. “I think you can do better than that. Now’s not the time to be coy.”
When she opened her eyes and lifted her head, still moaning, she bit her lower lip again and her already-hard nipples tightened even further. She drank in the sight of him, her eyes lingering on the length between his legs. “Fuck me,” she whispered.
Positioning himself just outside her entrance, he paused only to retrieve the condom inside his wallet. He rolled the latex over the length of his erection before repositioning. He ground the head of his cock over her slit.
“Oh, God, Dr. Grey, I can’t take it anymore. Fuck me!”
At her command, he sheathed himself inside her. An uninhibited sob of ecstasy tore from her lips as he pushed himself all the way into her. She gripped the edge of the desk to anchor herself, only to crinkle a fistful of papers in each hand. The feeling of being inside her was the sweetest pleasure he’d ever known. The velvety walls of her pussy gripped him with warmth.
For a moment he lingered, knowing if he moved too soon that he would lose himself entirely too fast to the sweet caress of her shuddering muscles. When she opened fully for him, her walls accommodating his length with ease, he thrust into her. A soft moan escaped her, growing into a loud, full groan as he found a rhythm that clearly pleased her.
As he thrust more deeply into her, she continued to tighten around him. She bucked against him, meeting his strength blow for blow. She wrapped her legs around his hips, and the heels of her boots pressed into the small of his back. His mouth watered and his cock stiffened at the sight of her breasts swaying as he pushed himself deep into her. His balls tensed as he felt himself coming closer and closer to climax. He could tell from the way Vera moaned and the way she squeezed her thighs against him that she was nearing her own finish, as well. The pressure in his shaft began to build. He released one of his hands from its place on Vera’s hip and used his fingers to massage her clit.
That was all it took.
A shudder ran through her, and she gripped the desk so hard that her knuckles were white. Searing heat radiated from her. She reached her climax with a small but satisfied moan. The sound sent electric pulses up and down his shaft, until he reached his own orgasm. He pumped his warmth into her in a sweet release of pressure. His head fell back, and he let out a groan. Being inside her was a slice of heaven, he was sure of it. But when he looked down into her eyes, it was no angel he saw. A fire blazed behind her irises as she grinned from ear to ear.
“Your turn.” She licked her lips, insinuating what was to come.
He was fairly certain that if Vera had any say in it, he was going to be the student for once.
* * *
VERA LAY IN Shane’s arms on the floor of his office. She rested her head against the muscles of his chest, reveling in the warmth of his body. She ran her fingertips over his pectoral muscle and down over the hard ridges of his abdomen. He held her flush against him, their naked bodies entwined. Even though most of the sexual encounters in her lifetime had ended in a semi-comfortable bed, she felt totally at ease in Shane’s arms, regardless of the hard floor beneath them. Every inch of her body ached with pleasure, and she felt satiated in a way she never had before.
As she inhaled the scent of his skin, she wished she could tell him how fantastic their lovemaking had been, but somehow the phrase didn’t seem adequate. Maybe that was because not only had the sex been amazing, but he was amazing. Even now, he stroked a gentle hand through the length of her hair, his fingertips massaging her scalp.
“That was more incredible than I ever imagined.”
She smiled. “Did you often imagine it?”
Shane grinned. “You have no idea.”
A coy grin crossed her face. If it weren’t for the fabulous feeling of after-sex glow pulsating through her, she could have started things over with him again right then and there. The thought of him fantasizing about the two of them together sent her blood boiling.
Before Vera could respond with a witty retort, the sound “Dude Looks Like a Lady” blared from the inside of Shane’s pants pocket several feet away. To his credit, he didn’t move to reach for the phone.
“Shouldn’t you get that?”
He let out a long sigh. “Probably, but I don’t want this moment to end.”
The girlish sigh that escaped her lips was one she’d never heard from herself before. If she’d been more sentimental, she might have cried from the overwhelming emotion of it all. He was sweet, and she wondered how in the world any woman, even her, could ever deserve him.
The phone continued to ring.
She reached up and fingered one of the locks of his hair. She wanted to say that if it were up to her, they would have an eternity of moments together, but she’d never been the best about sharing her feelings. “Don’t get yourself in trouble with your division,” she said.
At her prompting, Shane reached for his jeans. He fished through the pockets until he found his phone.
“Hello?” he answered.
A moment later he propped himself up on his elbows and swore. She sat up beside him, watching as he stood and began to pull on his clothes, muttering affirmatives into the receiver as he went. When he hung up, a look of frustration twisted his face.
She didn’t need to ask what was wrong. “There’s been another murder?”
He nodded. “Yes, and this time, in broad daylight.”
She swore. It figured. With Trista gone, Nathanial would be getting desperate.
“I need to get to division headquarters.”
She nodded. “I’ll get dressed and leave you to it, then.”
Shane shook his head. “Actually, I want you to come with me.”
Vera’s eyes widened. “Oh, no, great sex or not, I’m not walking into a meeting full of hunters.”
Shane grinned at her comment. “I have a plan, but I’m going to need your help.” He stepped forward and brushed his fingers through her long ebony hair again. “Please.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
IT HAD TAKEN Shane nearly an hour of sweet-talking to explain his plan and convince Vera that she could safely enter division headquarters. Even as they approached the building, a skeptical look crossed her face.
“Trust me,” he reassured her.
She shook her head. “The last time I encountered these guys, your ‘friends’ threatened to take me back to the detention center if I didn’t cooperate.”
Shane grabbed the door handle. “You’re ahead of the game, then. You’re already cooperating.” He held the door open for her.
She frowned. “That doesn’t make me feel better.”
Despite her obvious reluctance, she stepped inside the control room, where all his fellow hunters were sitting around the conference table. When Shane followed suit, the first thing he noticed was the pissed-off look on Damon’s face. The Rochester division leader had little tolerance for involving non–Execution Underground members in cases. It meant a lot of cover-up and fudging a lot of paperwork in order to cover their asses, and to say Damon did not like having to lie to headquarters was putting it lightly. The necessity of saving innocent lives sometimes overtook that need, though, and this was one of those times.
Shane took an open seat next to David and gestured for Vera to sit beside him. She looked at the metal chair as if it had teeth but eventually sat down.
All Shane’s fellow hunters turned
their eyes toward them, waiting for him to speak. They’d all been following the case, and he knew they would realize that this newest killing changed everything.
He cleared his throat. “We can’t let this go on any longer. The killings are becoming erratic, the MO is changing, and pretty soon there will be no way to predict who’s next. Nathanial knows we’re onto him, so I have to move now, and I’m going to need the team to do that.”
Damon shook his head. “Your plan better be solid.”
Trent nodded in agreement. “If he knows we’re onto him, that puts us at a tactical disadvantage.”
Shane leaned back in his chair. “That’s where you’re wrong. We have something Nathanial wants and would probably make some stupid mistakes to get his hands on.” He nodded to where Vera sat on his left.
Vera remained stiff as a board as his fellow hunters stared at her.
Shane continued. “Nathanial’s goal is to raise Johnathan Summers, and he undoubtedly wants to do it as quickly as possible. We can give him the opportunity and catch him in the act.”
“And what, pray tell, does any of this have to do with your lady friend?” Ash asked.
Shane inhaled a deep breath. Did he really want to disclose this? He glanced toward Vera. She nodded in affirmation. They had no other choice.
Shane released the breath he held. “The only way Nathanial can raise Johnathan quickly, without a lot more practice on newer bodies, is by using the blood of one of Johnathan’s relatives, preferably given willingly. Vera is Johnathan’s daughter.”
“Fuck,” Jace swore. A chorus of answering profanities followed from everyone at the table.
Shane nodded. Yeah, that about summed up his feelings on the matter, too. It killed him to have to use Vera and her deepest secret that way, but they had no choice. She had agreed that it was their best shot, and though his initial suggestion of disclosing that information to his fellow hunters had mortified her, she’d agreed. Innocent lives hung in the balance. She was too good a person to pass up the opportunity to prevent those lives from being lost.
Vera slumped just the slightest bit lower in her chair at the admission.
Damon shot Shane a look that said he was skating on very thin ice. Shane had to admit, if he was division leader and it was his ass on the line if someone screwed up, he wouldn’t be too happy with himself right about then, either. Bringing not only a witch into a witch hunt, but the daughter of the infamous Johnathan Summers...well, any cover-up would have to be fucking perfect.
Shane didn’t waste another moment. “Vera’s built a rapport with Nathanial. She can convince him that she’s on his side. Especially with Trista out of the picture, Nathanial will be looking for someone to assist him. If Nathanial wants to possess Johnathan and use his powers, he’ll need to make himself vulnerable first. As soon as he does, we can rush in and stop the whole process, take Nathanial down while he’s at his weakest.”
“And how will we know when he’s down for the count?” Jace asked.
“We can have Vera wired and listen in. Nathanial will be too cocky to suspect anything, especially if Vera tries to charm him. His weak spot is his ego and the beautiful women who feed him. He’s a narcissist. Vera will be able to play him like a fiddle.” Shane glanced toward her and smiled.
“Nathanial sent a familiar after me, and it failed,” she explained. “So he most likely has the impression now that I’m more powerful than he initially thought, and that will work to my advantage. I’ll convince him that I’ve known what he was up to all along, that I recognized the spell we were doing when I first met him and that sending that familiar after he asked about my father tipped me off to what he was up to, even though that isn’t true.”
Damon leaned forward in his seat and pegged Vera with an appraising glare. “And you’re willing to do this?”
She held Damon’s gaze. “The only person who wants Nathanial dead more than Shane is me.”
Shane couldn’t help but grin.
* * *
WHEN THE ALLEYWAY door to the coven’s meeting place swung open, Vera’s stomach dropped. Nathanial was staring at her with complete and total disdain in his eyes. The light reaching in from the powerful street lamps discolored his pale skin to a putrid shade of orange, transforming his brown eyes into cold, bottomless black pits. He was even more intimidating than usual in the harsh lighting.
“Hi,” she said, barely managing to choke out the word. She could do this. She had to do this, for Shane, for all the innocent people Nathanial had killed. To keep her father in his grave where he belonged. “Are we alone, like you promised?”
“Yes, come inside,” he replied, his words sounding like the hiss of a venomous snake.
Her stomach twisted into an even tighter knot. The last thing she wanted to do was be behind closed doors, alone, with a psychopath like Nathanial, especially when he was being subtly—but unmistakably— threatening, when she was here to offer him help. She reassured herself that Shane and the other members of the Execution Underground could hear everything through the microphone hidden in the front clasp of her bra, but that thought brought her little comfort.
She stepped inside. When the solid door slammed shut behind her, a chill raced down her spine. Being alone in this place with Nathanial, knowing what he was capable of, sent anxiety the likes of which she’d never known racing through her. But she needed to remain focused to complete her task. She had to get Nathanial to trust her.
He turned toward her, eyes narrowed in an expectant stare, as they entered the main room.
“I want to help you raise my father,” she said, answering the probing look in his eyes and breaking the silence that had held since he’d let her in. “I knew that was what you were trying to do as soon as you sent that familiar after me,” she lied.
He eyed her up and down, then stepped closer. Slowly, he walked in a circle around her, appraising her with a gaze sharper than a hawk’s. “And why should I believe that to be true, after you led a hunter straight to me?”
“What?” The shock in her voice was real, though the reason for it was undoubtedly not what he thought.
He gave her a thin, threatening smile. “You heard me. A hunter. Trista was not as strong or as useful as I wanted her to be, but she was mine. When she went missing—right after showing you and your...friend out of the building—I took steps to find out where she’d gone. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that your friend had taken her to the headquarters of the Execution Underground—” he nearly spat the words into her face “—and that she’s now being held deep in one of their fucking hellholes, where even I can’t reach her.”
He put one finger under her chin and raised her face so she was forced to look into his eyes. She struggled not to shudder at his touch.
“Yet here you are, free as a little singing canary. What do you have to say for yourself now?” he asked.
She shook her head, frantically trying to think of a way to talk herself out of this mess and save Shane’s plan. “All right. Yes, I figured out that he was a hunter when he forced Trista and me into his car. But I didn’t know he was a hunter when I met him, I swear. And I didn’t tell you because...because I was afraid.” She met his eyes as forcefully as she could, determined to sell her story.
Nathanial glared at her, his face showing he was less than convinced. “If that’s so, how did you manage to escape unscathed when Trista was taken?”
“As you guessed, I’m Johnathan Summers’s daughter. I have a few tricks up my sleeve. But—” she widened her eyes and did her best to look terrified “—I’m not as strong as my father was. And that hunter... I’m afraid he’ll find me again and I won’t be able to get away. But you...you can fight him. You can keep me safe.”
Nathanial nodded. “Your father was my mentor. I was proud to learn from him. Why hide your identity?”
She pulled her necklace from underneath her shirt, revealing her half of her father’s pendant. If Nathanial had been as close to her father as he claimed, he would recognize the significance.
His eyes widened at the sight of the silver medallion.
“As I’m sure you know, my father had a lot of enemies. I find it best to keep my identity hidden until I know whether it will work for or against me.” None of her words were far from the truth. Shane had insisted that being as honest as possible would give her more credibility. And so far, he seemed to be right. Nathanial must have believed her, or at least wanted to, because he hadn’t tried to hurt her...yet. She tried not to gulp in fear at that thought.
“Johnathan showed me your picture once,” Nathanial said. “From my understanding, you two were never very fond of each other. Why do you care about raising him from the dead?” He continued to appraise her with eyes she was certain could see straight to her soul.
Shit. She hadn’t anticipated that question. No matter how she answered, it would be a lie, because she didn’t want to help Nathanial raise her father from the dead. If Nathanial was anywhere near as dangerously powerful as she believed, he would be able to sense that. Immediately, her mind jumped to Shane, wondering what he would do in this situation. Knowing Shane, he would use intelligence to distract Nathanial. She opened her mouth to speak as she racked her brain for an answer. Bingo. Shane had called Nathanial narcissistic, and as a raging narcissist, there was one thing that would always appeal to Nathanial: flattery.
“Well, this really isn’t about my father, is it?” she suggested. “It’s about you.”
The slightest remnants of a grin twitched at the corner of Nathanial’s mouth. The man was a true peacock, eager for attention and adoration. Short of purring in pleasure, he couldn’t have made his enjoyment more obvious.
“My father was one of the most powerful warlocks of our time, perhaps the most powerful, but even he never dared to dabble in necromancy. Raising him from the dead so you can control him and his magical abilities, that just shows how powerful and accomplished you are. It would be foolish of me as a witch to be anything less than supportive of the person who is soon to be the most powerful warlock alive. Your power and my father’s powers combined into one would be unstoppable.”
Midnight Hunter (The Execution Underground Book 3) Page 20