Dark Nights Dangerous Men

by Elisabeth Naughton, Cynthia Eden, Katie Reus, Alexandra Ivy, Laura Wright, Joan Swan

  He’d be sampling a whole lot more of her soon.

  The fucking princess. He’d asked for her because, hell, yeah, he knew the power that she wielded in her blood. If he got enough of that vampire blood in him, he’d be near invincible.

  He wanted that power. Would need it if he was going to stop the demons. But there was…more.

  He’d wanted her. Had, for a very, very long time. The lady didn’t even know how long he’d been watching her.

  “I remember the first time I saw you.” He hadn’t meant to say the words, but they broke from him. How many nights had his vampire princess haunted his dreams?

  Her eyes widened. “Wh-what?” There it was again. That small stutter. The hesitation he hadn’t expected from her. He’d thought that the years would have made her harder.

  Perhaps they hadn’t.

  Or perhaps she was just playing him. Time would tell.

  “You stopped aging ten years ago.”

  A slight inclination of her head. Fresh meat, or at least, that’s what the pack would have called her.

  Jace just thought of her as—

  Mine.

  “We’ve never met.” Now her voice wasn’t so hesitant, but her fingers were still curled over the mark he’d put on her flesh.

  “No, but I’ve watched you.” Before he’d taken over the pack, his job had been to monitor the vampires. To catalog their every move and report back to his alpha.

  He’d watched and seen a blond beauty gaze up at the sun with tears in her eyes. Her twenty-fifth birthday. The day she’d finally changed.

  Lathan, the ex-alpha, had wanted the pureblood taken out. She was supposed to have been a message to the vamps. We’re taking over this town. Time for you to be our bitches.

  But Jace had seen her stare at that sun, and instead of hurting her, he’d torn his alpha apart.

  Wolves couldn’t really recognize their mates on sight. At least, they weren’t supposed to recognize them.

  Mine.

  “Jace?” He liked the way she said his name, though he would prefer hearing her scream it in pleasure to whispering it so quietly. Later. “You didn’t answer my question,” she said with a lift of that stubborn chin.

  He might as well put his cards on the table. In this devil’s bargain, they only had each other. If he couldn’t trust her…then maybe I will be the one to kill her one day.

  “A few years back, I was your guard dog.” He used the derogatory term deliberately.

  A faint furrow appeared between her brows.

  “For seven months, I watched you. Day and night.” He’d even seen her drink her first batch of blood—and watched her vomit it out moments later.

  She hadn’t wanted to be a monster, but fate had different plans for her. And him.

  Morgan’s bedroom eyes widened. “When?”

  “Right before your change.” His gaze swept over her. “Right before—”

  “Right before you took over the pack,” she finished and her hand dropped.

  Now he was the one surprised. “Did your research on me, did you?”

  “Yes.” Flat. “I know all about you. The lives you’ve taken—the vampires you’ve beheaded.”

  Because once, that had been his job. Watch. Hunt. Kill.

  Until a vampiress had shed tears of blood at sunset.

  Not that he’d exactly become Mr. Nice Guy since that night. He just hadn’t killed her.

  “You know, and still you’re ready to fuck me.”

  She kept her chin up even as her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “We don’t have to—to fuck for the bonding to take place. You drank from me, now I just need to drink from you.”

  Jace slowly shook his head as he stalked toward her. “You think you can drink me, and not want sex?” He understood vampires so well. The reason most of them had stopped taking from live sources was because once they tasted blood—ah, fresh from the vein—the bloodlust tended to overwhelm them.

  Her gaze held his. “I can control myself.”

  Interesting. His nostrils flared. She had control, but she was also aroused. From the idea of drinking his blood? Or just, from him?

  He’d worried that a vampire female would be repulsed by him. Normally, they went for class.

  Not for a beast that howled at the moon. But this princess, his princess, was something different. He’d known that for years. He’d just had to bide his time and wait for her.

  “You might have control,” he allowed, “but we wolves aren’t exactly known for that.”

  “No.” Again, not pulling her punches.

  So he wouldn’t either. “And I’ve wanted to fuck you for ten years.”

  Her lips parted, and she gave him a glimpse of those little fangs. “You—what?”

  Why did he find her fangs sexy? “I don’t care if drinking me spikes your bloodlust. I don’t care how rough you get.” He wasn’t worried about some bruises and scratches when pleasure waited. “I can handle anything you’ve got,” he told her as his hand stroked down her arm. Such smooth, soft skin.

  “Don’t be so sure, wolf.”

  But he was. “So why are you doing this?” His hand deliberately brushed the side of her breast. Want a taste. “Why throw yourself to the wolves?”

  “I’ll be saving my people.” Her lips firmed. “Isn’t that enough?”

  No.

  Her lashes swept down but she didn’t back away as she said, “I mean, that’s why you’re doing it, right? You’re sacrificing yourself—mating to a bloodsucker—in order to save your pack.”

  He didn’t speak, but Jace did begin undressing her.

  “Wh-what are you—”

  Her fast stutter almost made him smile. Would have, if he hadn’t been so hard and hungry for her. He couldn’t even draw in a breath without tasting her.

  “It’s time to finish this.” They’d done the public ritual, and now they would bond.

  He could feel a new power filling his body. He’d drank from her only once, and already the change was happening. Soon he’d be infinitely stronger, faster.

  To stop the demons, he’d have to become more. So would she.

  But first, they’d have to fuck.

  Her hands caught his, stilling him.

  He stared down at their bodies. She looked so breakable, but wasn’t. Not even close.

  So why the hell did he feel the need to be gentle with her?

  “Don’t worry,” he told her. “I won’t hurt you.”

  Her long lashes swept up, and she gazed at him. The gold in her eyes seemed even brighter. “Oh, wolf…” She sighed and then her lips curled in a smile that punched right into his gut. “You’re the one who needs to worry about getting hurt.”

  Then her hands were on him, pushing back, and he realized Morgan was very strong.

  The wolf inside growled.

  Her fangs were out, and Jace knew what his lady was going to say even as her lips parted—

  “It’s my turn to bite.”

  Chapter Three

  They made it to the bedroom. Morgan had a fast impression of heavy furniture, thick curtains, and then—

  Silk sheets. Black silk sheets.

  The wolf had surprised her again.

  She stared at him as the haze of need built within her. She wanted his blood. She needed it. And she wanted him. The lust for him wasn’t unexpected. The guy was freaking sexy.

  Jace was already naked. His chest flexed and rippled with muscles. His body was perfect. So strong. So dark. So…

  Very aroused.

  His cock stretched toward her, heavy and thick, and there was no doubt that he wanted her.

  Not just a bloodsucker to him.

  She ran her tongue over the edge of her fangs. “I need to confess—”

  His gaze darkened.

  “I, um, don’t have a lot of experience at this.” Most vampires she knew actually didn’t.

  He didn’t move. But he did call, “Bullshit.”

  It must have bee
n her boots. She’d thought they looked rather fuck-me. “Bloodlust and physical lust…they can combine too much. We don’t, ah, drink from sources.” They weren’t supposed to, but the rules were changing.

  “I know.”

  She felt hunted. The back of her knees hit the bed. “So I don’t drink and—and—” Fuck.

  “With me, you will.”

  His hands sank into her hair and tipped her head back. Then his lips took hers in a kiss that stole her breath even as it heated her blood. The wolf knew how to kiss. Oh, damn, did he. His tongue thrust inside her mouth, and Morgan found her arms rising and wrapping around his line-backer shoulders.

  A kiss shouldn’t sweep fire through her whole body, but his did.

  Her shirt and bra were long gone. His hands slipped down and pushed away her skirt. It slipped over her boots and hit the floor. Then his fingers caught her panties and the rip of fabric filled her ears.

  Morgan pulled back. What am I doing?

  His glowing eyes stared down at her.

  Her thighs hit the mattress, and she fell back onto the bed. She expected him to pounce on her, literally. Instead, he caught one foot and lifted it up, then slowly, inch by inch, Jace pulled off her leather boot.

  His hands kneaded her flesh. Smoothed over her calf. Slipped up her thigh.

  Morgan tensed even as her fangs burned.

  His hand eased back, and he reached for the other boot.

  She couldn’t look away from him. Dark hair. Golden flesh. The boot came off, and his hand smoothed over her skin. He parted her thighs.

  “So pretty…”

  She was wet for him. Morgan wanted his blood so badly that she trembled and, even more, she wanted that hot, hard body of his against her. In her.

  He licked his lips. “Who gets to taste first?”

  Damn. She wasn’t supposed to have sex with him. The Council had been adamant about that. Drink him, yes, take his power, give him hers, but sex?

  Forbidden.

  But the Council wasn’t there, and for once, Morgan was going to take pleasure like other women did.

  “I do,” she said and reached for him.

  His smile had her heartbeat kicking, but, to show him that she wasn’t like the mortal women he’d probably known before, Morgan twisted and shoved him, forcing him onto his back on the bed. Then she climbed on top of him, spreading her legs so that the aroused length of his cock just brushed her sex.

  More, please.

  Her nails raked down his chest. Not enough to break the skin. No sense wasting blood.

  His small nipples tightened beneath her touch. She leaned down and slid her tongue over the left nipple. He arched beneath her, and the head of his cock pushed against her core.

  She lifted her head. “Not yet.” Was that breathless, hungry voice really hers?

  His hands were on her hips, holding her tight. So much power. She’d had a handful of lovers—all human—in her life. They’d felt warm and alive but Jace was something altogether different.

  He wasn’t just warmth. He was a furnace, and the heat from his flesh warmed every inch of her.

  “Don’t play too long,” came his warning to her.

  A warning she ignored. She’d never played. Why not try now?

  She kissed her way up his body. Morgan knew she should have felt hesitant, nervous, and moments before, she had. But now she just needed.

  She licked his neck and felt the wild drumming of his pulse beneath her mouth.

  A vampire’s bite wasn’t like a wolf’s. There was no pain, there never was, not unless the vampire decided to play rough.

  No pain, and, when done right…pleasure.

  She really wanted to do this right for him.

  His hands trailed up her body. Such big hands, with rough fingertips and a gentle touch. His hands curled around her breasts, and a moan slipped from her.

  His name.

  Her nipples were tight, and when his fingers pushed over the hungry peaks, she closed her eyes.

  Her teeth pressed against his skin.

  Her thighs shifted, spreading even more for him. She couldn’t ever remember being this aroused for another.

  Not about duty. Not about the vampire nest.

  Right then, it was just about a man and a woman.

  “Take me in,” he whispered as his cock pushed up between her legs.

  Her body resisted because the wolf was so big. The head of his cock stretched her, but it didn’t hurt. It felt good, so good.

  She pushed down, even as his hips thrust up, hard, harder.

  Morgan took him all in and her teeth sank deep into his neck. His blood flowed on her tongue, and his blood was as addictive as his kiss. She drank him in, drank—

  Jace growled, and the room spun. No, he spun, pushing her beneath him while never taking that thick cock from her body. And she didn’t take her teeth from his neck. No, no, she wanted more of his blood.

  More, Jace. More.

  Images raced through her mind. A thousand flashes, like photos flying in a storm. They hit her, rolling through her mind as his memories became hers.

  Bonding.

  She took more of his blood. Licked his throat.

  He thrust deep. Harder. His fingers pushed between her legs. Found the center of her need and stroked her.

  The images vanished. The only thing that remained—Jace.

  Her mouth eased from his throat. She swiped her tongue over her lips. Stared up at him.

  His jaw was locked. His eyes glowed so brightly that it almost hurt to look into them. He’d obviously been waiting for her to look up, to see him.

  “Now we finish,” he promised and drove deep into her.

  Her legs wrapped around his hips. Her nails sank into his arms. She arched against him, pushing as hard as she could. He thrust inside, filling her, every inch so stretched and full, and she loved it.

  He withdrew, sliding nearly out of her eager sex, only to plunge back inside. Again. Again.

  The headboard slammed into the wall. The bed slats gave way with a groan, and the mattress tumbled onto the floor.

  He kept thrusting. She held on. Wanted more blood. Wanted more of him.

  Pleasure had her sex clamping around him. The climax bore down on her, so close, so—

  She bit him when she came.

  He erupted inside of her, hot jets of semen that filled her.

  And he held her tight. So tight that she wondered if he’d ever let her go.

  Then she realized her hands were clamped around his shoulders. Her nails deep in his skin. Holding Jace just as tightly…

  Because she didn’t want to let him go.

  ***

  Morgan dreamed of Jace’s life that day. The images flew through her mind, one after the other.

  A young Jace, had to be barely thirteen, running through the woods. Falling. Shifting. Screaming.

  Changing.

  Older, he strode into a vampire bar. When two vampires leapt at him, he struck out with his claws.

  Blood covered the floor.

  There was more blood. Always more. He hunted. He killed. A perfect weapon.

  There were women. They passed in a flurry. Beds. Sex.

  Jace. Aging. Growing.

  Stronger, deadlier.

  Not enough laughter in his life. Just death and violence.

  Then…

  Me.

  Morgan saw herself in his memories, in the days that she already struggled to remember. Standing in the sunshine that last time, feeling normal. Human.

  He’d watched her. Seen her cry. Not human tears, because then, she’d been beyond that.

  Tears of blood. The sign that her change was at hand.

  “Kill the bitch. Teach them that no vampire is beyond our reach.”

  An image of the pack’s ex-alpha rolled through her mind. “Do the job. Rip out her throat.”

  Jace stalked toward her. She stood on her balcony, staring up at the night. His claws were out.

  Then
she looked down—at him.

  There were no tears this time.

  Jace turned away.

  But the blood didn’t stop. He’d gone back for the alpha. “You can’t take me, boy, you don’t even know how strong I—”

  The alpha’s blood had stained Jace’s claws.

  Morgan tried to shut out the memories. It was too much. She didn’t want to see anymore. No more death. It was all he knew.

  Yet he hadn’t killed her.

  As the images kept pushing forward, she realized that Jace had visited her again. And again. She hadn’t known it, but he’d been there so many times.

  Not to kill.

  To guard.

  ***

  Jace watched her while she slept and wondered what memories she saw. He knew how the bite worked. Another reason the vamps had stopped drinking directly from humans was because they couldn’t stand the memory overload.

  When you drank from a live source, you saw memories.

  What did the vampiress see?

  He bent over the bed and wiped away the bloody tears that slid from her eyes. He’d always hated her tears.

  You see me now, don’t you? The dead had piled at his feet over the years. If he had one talent in this world, it was killing.

  It would be a talent that aided them when the battle with the demons came.

  But…what would Morgan think of him when she woke?

  “I’m not a fucking monster.” Liar, liar…and who’d know better than her? In his head now, always, there’d be no hiding from her.

  She’d know it all and understand the obsession he carried. For her.

  He eased away from the bed. He didn’t want to look into her eyes with the memories between them. Not yet.

  Jace spun away and left the room.

  He hurried down the hall and shoved open the front door. The afternoon sunlight hit him, bright and hot, the way it always was in Miami. The buzz of insects bled from the nearby swamp, droning on and on. When he jumped down the steps, his first in command, Louis, pushed away from his truck.

  Jace had heard the other wolf drive up. He’d just taken his time about heading out.

  “We got trouble,” Louis said, his Cajun accent rolling easily on the words. “No one seen any sign of Mike. Nothin’ except his blood in an alley.”