Wicked Kiss

by Rebecca Zanetti

  His eyelids opened. “There’s money in the top drawer.” Sweat dotted his upper lip and soaked through his T-shirt. “Pay the cabbie.” Then he shut his eyes again.

  Panic swept her, and she jumped up, rifling through the drawer. A neatly tied stack of hundreds was pressed against the edge. She grabbed five and ran through the living room, leaping off the porch steps to hand the money through the passenger-side door. “Did he say what was wrong?” she asked the guy.

  The cabbie nodded. “Yeah. Said it was a migraine. Looked like it hurt like hell.” The guy took in the crisp bills and smiled wide. “Call if you all need a ride anywhere else.” Tipping an imaginary hat, he rolled up the window and pulled around, zipping down the lane. She watched him go, confusion melding with panic inside her.

  Did witches get migraines?

  Turning, she ran up the steps and back into the room, seeing Adam now sitting with his back to the side of the fireplace. Maybe the migraine had something to do with the whole throwing fire and plasma. She reached him. “What’s wrong?” Her voice trembled.

  He closed his eyes and swallowed, shoving himself up with one arm. He climbed to stand by using the wall, the muscles in his bicep bunching. “Got hit with planekite. Apollo darts.”

  She gasped out, her lungs expelling all the air they held. Her ears rang. “Adam. What should I do?”

  “Nothing.” He smiled, his lips looking a little blue. “Half of it is already out of my system. They only hit me with two darts, so I’ll be fine within an hour.” His hands fumbled at the base of his T-shirt. “I’m hot. Fucking hot.”

  She moved toward him, drawing the shirt over his head. “Come lie down.” Taking his arm, she led him inside the cool bedroom. Her heart beat rapidly.

  He sat and then stretched out on his back. “Shit burns as it pumps through the blood.”

  “I figured.” She jogged to the bathroom and dampened a washcloth, returning to wipe it across his wide chest. He had to be okay.

  He murmured. “Feels good.” Reaching out, he snagged her around the waist. “Cuddle.”

  Cuddle? Did the most dangerous male she’d ever met use the word “cuddle”? She traced her fingers over his abs, and they rippled. “Are you sure you’re going to be all right?” she whispered, needing to offer comfort.

  “Aye. The second dart just glanced me. My vision is already coming back.” He tightened his hold, partially rolling her to lie alongside him. “You feel good.”

  “So do you.” She caressed his chest. He was already cooling. Good. The idea that somebody had harmed him, that he could actually be harmed, shot uneasiness through her. Honestly, from day one, she’d considered him nearly invincible. After discovering his true nature and seeing him fight, there hadn’t been any reason to change her mind. “What happened to the person who hurt you?” She slid her hand up and around his neck, her body relaxing at feeling the steadiness of his pulse.

  “Shot one guy and threw the other off a roof.”

  “Of course.” She smiled against his shoulder. “I mean, what else would you have done?”

  He glanced over at her, his lips creasing into a grin. “That’s what I thought. Poked one guy’s eye out first.”

  She laughed. It was a ridiculous statement to laugh at, but she couldn’t help it. Life had gotten way too bizarre.

  He rolled over, right onto her, flattening her to the bed. “I love your laugh.” His eyes twinkled, and his face was only slightly feverish. “Laugh more.” The pads of his fingers rubbed along her ribs.

  She stared, the oddest sense of wonder taking her. Adam in a playful mood? Well, it had only taken a lethal drug to bring that about. She laughed out loud at her own thoughts.

  “That’s nice.” He lifted to his knees, bracketing her. Then he reached down and tugged her shirt up and over her head.

  Her amusement darkened and deepened. “What are you doing?” she whispered, intrigue licking through her.

  “Playing.” He slid his hand beneath her bra, cupping her breasts.

  She arched, sensations torturing her. A throbbing set up between her legs. “You must be feeling better,” she gasped.

  “I am.” He lifted the bra right up and over her head, forcing her arms up. Then he moved quickly, tying them in place. “I heal very quickly. ’Tis a gift, that.”

  “Hey,” she said with a laugh. She struggled, but her wrists remained tied together by the soft silk. So she looked at him, trying to memorize every hard angle.

  His bare torso, so strong and wide, made her lick her lips.

  “I can’t have you disappointed,” he murmured, one finger hooking in the bra. He lifted her arms again, moved around a little, and then settled back on his knees.

  She laughed and tried to pull her arms down. They didn’t move. She stilled. So much fire swept through her, she forgot how to breathe. He’d somehow secured her wrists and arms above her head. She tugged, and there was no give. The helplessness of her position, with him looking down at her, heated the desire inside her to molten lava. “How?” she asked.

  One side of his mouth lifted, giving him the look of a pirate. “Let’s just say the iron headboard is wearing your bra.” He spread out his hands, fingers wide, over her chest. “With your arms attached.” Satisfaction lit his eyes a second before blue fire zapped along his palms and between his outstretched fingers.

  She gasped, instinctively pressing into the bed, her eyes wide and focused on the fire poised above her very bare and delicate breasts.

  “Fire burns, Victoria.” He slowly lowered his hands, and the fire sparked.

  Her skin twitched, and she tried to hold perfectly still. “Don’t,” she whispered.

  He smiled, his gaze warm on hers. “You don’t mean that.”

  No, she really didn’t. The memories of what he could do with fire nearly sent her into an early orgasm. As if reading her mind, he angled his body and slid his knees back, pressing his hard shaft between her legs, over the jeans she still wore.

  The feeling of him on top of her, so hard against her clit, was a form of sensual torture she had never imagined. With the fire crackling as a warning so close to her skin, she could do nothing but completely feel every sensation. Warmth from the flames. Softness against his steel hardness. Helplessness compared to his strength.

  Relief that he had healed enough to play. To be strong for her again.

  He finished lowering his hands, encasing her breasts in full blue fire. An all-consuming zap of heat pinched her nipples. She arched against him, crying out. An orgasm rushed through her out of nowhere, flashing the air to bright and then hazy, forcing her body to jerk against his hard cock.

  His head lifted, and his eyes darkened. “That was lovely.” Low and guttural, his tone dug down deep inside her and took hold.

  The fire sputtered out. He levered up and jerked her jeans off her legs. She may have murmured something, her body still out of her control. Then he stood and quickly removed his jeans.

  She pulled against the restraints. “Let me go.” More than anything in the world, she wanted to touch his hard chest. Wanted to run her fingers over every angle and hollow. “Now.”

  He moved back above her, settling against her, his dick against her core. His mouth pressed against hers, forming the word no.

  She blinked. “Yes.”

  He smiled, the movement soft against her mouth. “Not a chance.” Slowly, he began to penetrate her.

  She breathed out, opening her legs, pushing against him to hurry him along.

  He wouldn’t be rushed.

  Instead, in total control, he inched inside her in minuscule increments, taking his time. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead, and his biceps bulged on either side of her shoulders as he held himself in check, torturing them both. “Do you have any idea how lovely you are, bound for my pleasure?” he rumbled, his gaze hotter than the fire he’d already used.

  Her fingers curled over the material of the bra. She shook her head slowly, allowing his sweet words to
sink in. “I’ve never seen anything like you,” she whispered. He was more masculine than any ideal of a man she could’ve dreamed up on her best day.

  He leaned down and kissed her, his lips firm and his tongue gentle. Sweeping inside her mouth, he took all of her, giving with such gentleness tears nearly pricked her eyes.

  With a groan, he finally shoved all the way inside her.

  She gasped, her body taken over. The bra secured her hands, and his solid body pinned her to the bed. She couldn’t move, even if she had wanted to. Her quick orgasm had just softened her for him, primed her body for what he could do. What he would do. His body, even without the fever, warmed her head to toe with an electrical burn.

  He’d been inside her for nearly a minute, not moving, just pulsing. She bit her lip to keep from begging.

  One of his hands clamped on top of her head, and he pulled out, shoving back in while holding her immobile. The forced helplessness sent shock waves along her every nerve, and she whimpered, needing more. Craving more. His eyes were strong and bright with desire . . . for her.

  It hit her then, the realization that Adam Dunne was more than sex. More than just this moment. Somehow, when she hadn’t been looking, he’d slid right beneath her skin and into her heart. No matter what happened, she’d always remember him. Always carry a part of him with her. And even if she never saw him again, she’d still have this piece. She smiled at the thought.

  His gaze caught. “Now that’s a stunning sight.”

  He pulled out and pounded back in with enough force to push her hands against the bars. Pressure built inside her again, stronger and hotter than before. She lifted her knees to take more of him.

  “Next time, I tie your legs, too,” he whispered, kissing her deep, taking whatever he wanted.

  Her thighs trembled in response, and then her hips started to move, following his lead. The pressure continued to build in a delicious coil that threatened to blow her apart. She didn’t care. Only that peak, only that shocking wave of raw pleasure, only Adam’s body in hers mattered. Nothing else. No time, no worries, no future. Only right now and the devastating pleasure to be found with him.

  He leaned down and pushed one arm beneath her thigh, opening her, showing just how much more helpless he could make her. “Come now, Victoria.”

  She came apart as the coils inside her detonated, shooting sparks, taking everything. He thrust harder, going deeper, pushing her into a place of sweet agony. Just as she came down, he pressed his forehead to hers, and the spasms of his orgasm took him.

  He flicked her wrists free and moved to the side, taking her with him. Tucking the blankets around them, he winced.

  She bit her lip. Maybe it had been too soon for him after the darts. “Are you all right?”

  His jaw went slack. He held out his arm and twisted his wrist, opening the palm of his hand.

  She reached for it to see a stunning Celtic knot, slightly raised with jagged edges, on his palm. That hadn’t been there before. She frowned. “What in the world?”

  He sighed and flexed his fingers. “It’s the brand. The mating brand.”

  Chapter 20

  Morning arrived soft and sweet, climbing over the mountains and finally bringing the sun. Adam finished scouting the area around the cabin, setting a couple of traps, mainly searching for trespassers. So far, the cabin seemed secure. His phone blared Livin’ on a Prayer, and he looked at the screen. Interesting. “Adam here,” he said, accepting the video conference.

  Councilman Peter Gallagher came into view, his hair slicked back, his eyes narrowed. “Word reached us that Titans of Fire burned down and the leadership is missing.”

  “Aye,” Adam said easily, noting two wide trout in the river. Did Victoria like trout?

  “Don’t you think that’s information you might’ve passed on?” Peter hissed.

  Adam studied the current leader of the Coven Nine. It was time to stop messing around. “Did you send a hit squad to take me out, Pete?”

  Peter drew back, the lines in his neck elongating. “Are you, our only Enforcer, asking the chairperson of the Coven Nine if he illegally and immorally hired mercenaries to perpetrate murder?”

  What a dipshit. “Aye. That’s exactly what I’m asking. And by the way, referring to yourself in the third person is a sign of lunacy. Just so you know.” The breeze picked up but failed to cool Adam’s heated flesh.

  Peter coughed. “I’m insulted but not surprised. The Dunnes aren’t exactly known for class.”

  Adam leaned into the camera. “What are we known for, Pete?” Maybe it was time to remind the witch why the Dunne boys were Enforcers.

  Peter cleared his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Since Titans of Fire no longer exists, your undercover op is finished there. It’s time to come home and train the new crop of Enforcers.”

  Fuck. Adam wanted to tell the asshole to shove it. The entire thing. The job, the case, the Coven Nine. But he was the only one in the family who still had the inside track, and if they were going to figure out who’d set up Simone, being an Enforcer gave him an edge. “We don’t know who the manufacturer of Apollo is,” he replied, “but that person will be looking for a new main distributor.” There was no question Bear and the Grizzlies would be approached. “I need to be here for that.”

  “Negative,” Peter said.

  Adam leaned against a pine tree, his temper pricked. “Did you just use a military term?” Good ole Pete had never served in any branch of the witch military. Of any military. “Really?”

  “Dunne, I truly don’t appreciate your insubordination,” Peter spat.

  “Well, hell, Pete.” Adam allowed the predator in him to show. “Considering you put a kill order on my brothers and cousin, it’s real hard not to reach through the phone and rip out your throat.”

  Peter smiled then. “I see. In that case, you are hereby given notice that you’re required to be in front of the Council of the Coven Nine in three days to pledge your allegiance as well as provide proof of your recent mating. If you have not mated the Monzelle woman, she dies instantly. I have ten Guard squads raring to go, and I’ll even offer an incentive for the squad that takes her out.”

  Adam barely kept the death threat inside his throat. A death threat would instantly be met with termination of his employment, if not his life. “I’ll see you in three days,” he said, clicking off. Jesus. Three days. He quickly dialed Kellach.

  “Kell here.” His brother sounded preoccupied and slightly irritated.

  “The Council wants me to pledge myself to them after I mate Victoria,” Adam burst out, fire lancing down his arms. “I think we need to neutralize Gallagher. I really do.” It was the cleanest and smartest way to keep his family alive, but saying the words felt like a sledgehammer to the gut. If Peter died, Sal would fold, and Nessa had always been on their side. Well, maybe not on their side, but she had voted against their being killed. That meant something.

  “If we do that, we tear the witch nation down the middle,” Kellach said.

  “We don’t have a choice,” Adam snapped.

  “Hey. I didn’t say it was a bad idea. I just said we’d start an internal war that might destroy us all.” Kellach cleared his throat. “I’ve been thinking about how smoothly Peter Gallagher took over the Council. As if it were planned.”

  Adam fought his anger and tried to concentrate. “He’s an ambitious bastard, but do you really think he set Simone up? He hasn’t been in power enough time for the long game.”

  “I don’t know, but what I’m saying is that you’re the guy to figure it out,” Kell said, his voice calming. “Whatever has you so tied up has to be taken care of. You’re the strategist. The smartest one. The guy who’d rather pierce somebody’s brain with a good battle plan than punch a guy in the face. Remember?”

  “Aye,” Adam said as the world pressed in on him. “We know Grace Sadler is somehow involved, and now that we’ve killed both of her sons, we really need to find her.” Grace had been r
emoved from the Council because of treason, and she’d spent decades coming up with her plan for revenge. Her sons had died in separate battles, and a part of Adam regretted that, although there had been no other choice but to kill them.

  “Agreed. Also, I know we’ve left you holding a shitload of garbage, with all of us being charged with treason and going underground. I get that. Plus, you’re now the only witch member of Titans of Fire, and I know you hate that place.” Kellach sighed.

  Adam winced. “Ah, I may have blown up Titans.”

  Silence ticked for the briefest of moments. “You did what?”

  Adam frowned. “How did you not know?”

  “Ah, hell. I now owe Daire ten thousand dollars. I hate losing a bet.” Kellach turned and yelled over his shoulder. “Adam blew up the Fire compound.” He returned to the phone. “I took Alexandra for a night off up at a cabin across the lake. I’m supposed to have a briefing with Dage in an hour.”

  The king would probably love to impart the information about the explosion. “Pyro kidnapped Victoria, and she was all bruised, and, well . . .”

  “You blew the place up,” Kellach said simply. “I get it.”

  Adam rubbed his eyes. What the hell was wrong with him? “I am losing my mind.” The brand on his palm brushed his cheek.

  A scuffle ensued on the other end of the line, and soon Daire came on the phone. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  Adam grimaced. “I was just asking myself the same question.” He couldn’t tell his brothers about the mating mark. It only appeared when a potential mate was near, and he didn’t want to discuss its significance. Not for a second. “Pyro told us all he could about the manufacturer of Apollo. I don’t think he even really knew a name.”

  “Figures,” Daire muttered. “But it does beg the question. Why are you blowing things up instead of following the paper trail to save Simone?”

  “Because I’m the only one out here to blow things up.” Adam’s voice rose, and he rapidly calmed himself. “So you all, who are safely behind walls with no enemies to battle, will have to do the research on this one. Follow the paper yourselves, damn it. Look at all the shipping manifests from Russia, the ones that moved planekite and bore Simone’s signature, and figure out who could’ve doctored them.”