Jack jerked his head back from temptation and muttered a curse. "We shouldn't be doing this. There are a thousand reasons why it's a bad idea. Plus it's against the rules."
Rule Number Six, as a matter of fact. Do not fuck your charge.
Well, it didn't state it quite that way, but that was the way he interpreted it.
"To hell with the rules." She brought his face back to hers and whispered kisses over his jaw, down his throat. With a soft moan, she nuzzled his neck. He felt the swipe of her tongue against his skin, and was lost.
Using the power of his protectorate abilities, he glided up the steps without skidding on the ice. Mentally he called to Oscar, who barked and came running to them.
The dog bounded up the stairs and slid across the deck until he smacked into the door. Tongue lolling from one side of his mouth, he righted himself and wagged his stubby tail.
Bree gave a little snort of laughter. "Silly little man," she said to the bulldog.
Reaching down, Jack twisted the knob and shoved open the door. He made sure Oscar was through and then kicked the door shut behind them. Looking around for the dog, he saw him settling down in front of the fireplace.
Oscar was taken care of. Now it was time to take care of the dog's owner. He set her on her feet and let go of her long enough to shrug out of his jacket and draw her coat off her. Bringing his mouth back to hers, Jack licked across the seam of her lips. With a low groan, he deepened the kiss and lifted her back into his arms.
His eyes burned, his fangs ached. Hell, more than just his fangs ached. His cock was so hard he was surprised it hadn't burst the buttons on his jeans. Not taking his lips from hers, he walked through the cabin to the bedroom. With a gentleness he hadn't felt in a long time, he placed her on the bed and sat beside her.
He brought one hand to Bree's face and stroked down her satiny cheek. When he reached her lips, her tongue slipped out and flicked over his index finger. Her eyes were dark and languorous, her slow smile sultry and filled with feminine secrets.
She reached out with one hand and tugged his t-shirt from the waistband of his jeans. Her warm fingers slipped beneath the material and trailed across his abdomen, leaving fire in their wake.
Jack sucked in his breath. At the sight of her widening smile, he toed off his shoes and pulled his socks off. He tore the t-shirt off over his head and moved his hands to his jeans. Pausing, he leaned over her instead, a smile curving his mouth.
"One of us is a bit overdressed, chérie," he murmured.
"Well, we can fix that, for sure." Grinning, she sat up and reached for his fly.
He caught her hands. Bringing them to his mouth, he pressed a kiss in each palm. "No, Brianna. I'm not the one overdressed."
Bree laughed and gently pulled her hands away. She rolled to the other side of the bed and got up. She put one hand on the headboard and shifted, and he heard the thunk of her boots. Then she bent and the bed obscured all of her except the thrust of her ass in the air.
Jack sucked in his breath. Even seeing her in profile like this, he wanted to grab her hips and thrust into her wet heat from behind. And he would, before this night was over.
To hell with the rules.
As she straightened, she drew her sweater over her head and let it drop to the floor. Her hands slid up her ribcage and cupped her breasts, her fingers spread over the pale material of her lacy bra. "I guess since you're topless, it's only fair that I be, too."
She reached behind her back, thrusting out her breasts, and Jack groaned. Her bra tightened briefly and then fell loose. Bree let the straps slide down over her arms, and the bra joined her sweater on the floor.
He caught his breath at her silken beauty. Her breasts were firm and full, tipped with soft pink nipples. She unzipped her pants and slid them down her legs, then took off her satin panties.
Jack stood frozen in place, enthralled with her beauty, her confidence, and her comfort with her own sexuality. She moved toward him with a slow, hip-swinging walk. His gaze traveled from her breasts down to the curls sheltering her sex, and then up to her face as she came to a stop in front of him.
She reached behind him and loosened the leather tie that held his hair back. "Now," she said, her hands going to the buttons of his fly. She flicked the first one open. "One of us is definitely overdressed. And it ain't me."
Chapter Six
Bree's slender fingers cradled his erection through the denim of his jeans before she finished unbuttoning his fly. Jack groaned, the snug fit of her hand squeezing his shaft and her brazen confidence the sexiest thing he'd seen in a long time.
She gave one last squeeze and, going to her knees in front of him, pushed his jeans and briefs down to his thighs. His hard, aching cock sprang free. She looked up at him, licked her lips, and pushed his clothing the rest of the way down his legs. He stepped out of them, kicking them to one side.
Her cool hands skimmed up his thighs. When she reached the thick scar high up on his right thigh, she paused. "What's this from?"
"Bayonet."
"Oh, Jack... " She closed her eyes and pressed her lips against the rigid, twisted flesh.
He sucked in a breath. His cock surged toward his belly. His turgid flesh pulsed so hard it ached. Her hands slid up until she cupped that most intimate part of him gently in her fingers. She traced one throbbing vein up his shaft to the swollen tip, and his breath left him in a rush. Her thumb scrubbed across the weeping slit, gathering the slick moisture there, and rubbed it over and around the sensitive head.
Then, lashes falling to half-mast, she leaned forward and took his cock into the wet heat of her mouth.
Heaven. Until he earned his redemption, he was as close to being in heaven as his dark soul would ever allow.
She drew back, sucking gently, then went down again. Teeth gently scraped, tongue fluttered against the underside of his shaft. She took him to the back of her throat and let out a little hum.
Jack swore and bucked against her as the sound vibrated the entire length of his cock. He twitched with the need to grab her, take her. Clenching his fists at his sides, he forced himself to wait. This was a sensual torture he wasn't ready to let go of just yet.
Pulling back, she flicked her tongue around and over his shaft, tapped it against the bundle of nerves beneath the flushed head.
"Yesssss," he hissed. "Suck me. Take more."
Bree held his cock in one hand and kissed and licked her way down the underside until she reached his tight balls. Jack's entire body grew rigid as she took one testicle between her lips.
He stared across the room into the full-length chevalier mirror and saw their reflections. Bree on her knees, her head at an angle beneath his cock, her mouth nibbling, sucking, licking his sac. Her heart-shaped ass swayed slightly with her ministrations.
His balls drew up against his body. More and more pre-cum wept from his cock.
Jack couldn't wait to be inside her, but he would be patient and make sure she was ready for him.
He speared his fingers through her hair and gently eased her away. Drawing her to her feet, he bent over and lifted her into his arms. Quick strides took him to the bed, where he lay her down.
She bent her knees and spread her legs, her hands stroking over her ribs, down to her thighs.
He came down over her and claimed her mouth. Holding her face between his hands, he angled her head. His tongue thrust into her mouth, exploring the hot, moist depths. She brought her hands to his head and speared her fingers into his hair, threading deeper until they curved around the back of his skull to pull him closer.
Needing to feel her silky skin, Jack skated his palms down her shoulders to the soft sides of her breasts where they flattened against his chest. She moaned and rubbed the hardened tips against him, smiling against his lips when he shuddered at the motion.
His mouth traveled from her lips to her chin and down the side of her throat. With a small sigh, she tilted her head. He closed his eyes at the sign of her tru
st in him. Pressing his face against her, he nuzzled her neck, licked across the throbbing vein and then nipped her.
Bree stiffened and he pressed his mouth to her cheek. "Shh, chérie," he whispered. "I will never hurt you."
He rose above her, bracing himself on his forearms, and met her gaze. She searched his eyes and finally relaxed again.
Jack slowly lowered himself back to her and licked across the small wound. He growled at the coppery taste of her blood. Another lick sent a shudder through her slender body, a shudder that echoed in his much larger frame.
He kissed a path over one collarbone, then down to a firm breast where a tight nipple thrust out in invitation. With a growl of want, of need, he drew as much of it into his mouth as he could, and settled down for a long suckle.
Bree's hands roved over him from his head to his shoulders, down to grip his biceps, then started the trek all over again. Jack closed his eyes and concentrated on the velvety flesh under him, moving from one taut peak to the other.
He reached down and slid his hand into the swollen folds of her sex, finding her hot and creamy. Ready.
She was incredible.
She was his.
But he wanted more. More of her passion, her essence.
With a groan, he wedged his shoulders between her thighs, his fingers spreading her folds, opening her to his gaze, his touch. She was strawberries and cream here, deep red with passion and pale silky skin.
Bree moaned and lifted her hips. Jack dipped his head and swiped the flat of his tongue from her opening up to her clit. The tangy flavor of her arousal hit his taste buds and he drank her down.
He glanced up at her, never taking his mouth from her sweet sex, and saw her hands at her sides, fisted around wads of the comforter. Her mouth opened with her gasping cries.
Jack licked his way through her folds to her sheath. Pointing his tongue, he circled the opening. She gasped and pressed against his mouth, and he rewarded her passion by spearing his tongue into her.
"Oh!" Bree quivered beneath him, her legs opening even farther.
Drawing a breath, he pulled the scent of her deep into his lungs so he'd never forget what she smelled like. She was fresh morning dew and warm, earthy woman.
He moved back up, sucking and licking her labia. When he drew her clit into his mouth and began to suckle her, she bucked against him.
"Jack!" Bree reached down and touched his shoulder, slid her fingers up and into his hair. "Please. I want you inside me." Her blue eyes were dark with passion, her long lashes partially hiding her gaze.
It made her mysterious.
It made him want her that much more.
Jack rose up onto his knees. "Turn over," he said, his voice hoarse with need.
Her eyes darkened even farther. She sat up and then got on her hands and knees, wiggling her rear in invitation.
The provocative sight shoved him toward the edge of his control. A fine trembling started in his fingers. He grasped his cock in one hand, held her hip with the other, and began working his way into her slick sheath.
"I want to make long, slow love to you, chérie. To feel your snug pussy grip my cock like a fist."
The carnal words sparked Bree's passion even higher.
His voice, when it came again, was deep and rough. "But not now. I want you too much to take it slow. I want fast and hard and deep." He pressed a hot kiss against her shoulder, then against the side of her neck. "What about you, chérie? How do you want me?"
Any way she could get him. "I don't care, as long as you do it now."
She felt so empty; she would only be whole once he was inside her.
A laugh left him. Jack pushed forward and with one hard thrust was seated fully, his balls coming to rest against her swollen flesh.
Bree screamed at the carnal pleasure of his possession. He filled her, the thick stalk of his sex stretching her as he plunged in and out with the force of a driving piston. She met each thrust eagerly, demandingly. With her every movement, every sound, she urged him on.
Their bodies made wet, slapping noises and the sound made her crazy with lust. Her body quickened, her passion spiraling tighter and tighter.
One big hand came around her, between her legs, and he began strumming her clit. The pleasure built. She gasped for breath, the smell of hot male and sex permeating her lungs. She thrust back against him, moaning, hearing his matching groans. Her sheath tightened, her core gushed with cream.
Her orgasm rushed through her with the force of a tsunami. Her back bowed as she shuddered and quaked, muscles seizing while spasm after spasm washed over her.
She vaguely heard his hoarse shout as he found his own release. His hand tilted her head to one side and sharp teeth pierced her throat. Another climax roiled through her. She screamed and thrust against him.
Hot jets of semen spurted into her, his solid body shuddered against her back. Then he gave one last groan and collapsed on top of her, driving her down onto the mattress.
After only a few moments, Jack shifted to one side, his softened cock slipping from her sated body. His arms wrapped around her and drew her back against him. Square-tipped fingers lazily fingered her nipples, bringing them to hardness again and firing up her arousal.
Bree brought one hand to her neck and touched the wounds left by his fangs. "You bit me."
She was sure she should be upset by it, but he'd already said it took more than just a bite. Besides, remembering the extra jolt to her orgasm took away any negative reaction she might have had.
His hand smoothed down her belly and splayed over her abdomen. She shivered at the rasp of his callused palm on her smooth skin.
"You don't sound too worried about it."
She turned her head to stare at him. His eyes were normal hazel—human eyes—and she missed seeing the silver. A slight smile played on his face, making her want to taste him. Bringing her mouth to his, she licked across the seam of his lips.
"I'm not worried," she whispered. She rubbed her lips back and forth over his, feeling the warmth of his breath. "But there is one thing I'd like to know."
His mouth took hers, his tongue dipping between her lips to duel with hers. When he drew back, they were both breathing heavily. "What's that, chérie?"
She shifted onto her back. Sliding her fingers into his hair, she gently massaged his scalp. His soft groan of pleasure fired her passion. "When can we do it again?"
His eyes crinkled at the corners. "Well, mon amie, let me put it this way. If you think you're getting out of this bed any time soon, you'd better think again."
Chapter Seven
The next morning, nursing muscles sore from the workout Jack had given her during the night, Bree carefully got up from the breakfast table and carried her plate to the sink. She skirted Oscar, who danced around, tongue lolling out, hoping for a scrap—any scrap—that might fall off her plate. When she placed it in the sink and turned to look at him, one hand on her hip, he gave a demanding woof.
"No."
He sat down on one haunch, listing to the side, and stared at her with hopeful eyes.
She tried not to laugh at his antics. He didn't need any more encouragement. "You know, it’s a good thing you're not pedigreed. Sitting like that, you'd never make it in Westminster."
He licked his chops and chuffed, stubby tail swishing on the floor.
"No. I mean it."
Oscar heaved a sigh and wandered over to his dish. He sniffed it half-heartedly and sent a pitiful look over his shoulder. Bree just shook her head and turned back to the sink.
Her thoughts drifted to the previous night spent in Jack's arms. He'd been alternately wild and tender, but insatiable regardless. When she'd gotten dressed this morning, she'd seen bruises on her hips and thighs from his rough handling of the night before.
It had made her feel fiercely feminine and ultimately powerful, knowing she'd been the one to make him lose control.
To a point.
While he had bitten her—mor
e than once—she'd still sensed the unyielding control he'd exerted over his vampire tendencies. And, as she thought about it, she wasn't so certain she was willing to test that steely restraint.
She was pretty sure she wasn't quite that brave.
Bree left the kitchen and went to the bedroom. She stood there, one shoulder leaning against the doorframe, and watched Jack sleep. He was on his back, arms spread out across the bed, legs splayed. Her gaze lingered between his thighs. His soft cock lay against his balls, even at rest a thick wedge of flesh.
His face was turned toward her. His hair lay soft against his neck, a long strand trailing over his cheek. Her fingers itched to brush it away, but she didn't want to disturb his sleep.
He looked exhausted. And no wonder, as hard as he'd worked last night.
Her core began to heat. Pressing her thighs together, she tried to stem the increasing tide of longing. She wanted him again, had the feeling she would always want him.
She drew in a deep breath and turned away. There was the problem. As soon as this was over, there was no guarantee Jack would stay with her. He wasn't a guardian angel assigned to safeguard her in her everyday life; he was a Protector, assigned to her for this one job only.
Then he would have to leave.
Bree squared her shoulders as she walked back into the kitchen. If that was the way it had to be, then okay. She'd just make sure she enjoyed her time with him—however much or little that turned out to be.
Seeing Oscar standing by the back door, she went over and pulled on her boots and coat. She grabbed his leash and snapped it onto his collar. "All right now," she said quietly. "Just a quick run outside for you to do your business, then it's right back in, okay?"
It had been less than twenty-four hours since the hitman... what had Jack called him? Oh, yeah, Ernie. Less than a day since Ernie had tried to kill her. She comforted herself with the idea that he surely couldn't have tracked them down in that short amount of time.
"Out and right back in, Oscar," she repeated. "Otherwise, you'll get me in trouble with Jack for going outside without him."
EDGE OF NIGHT Page 19