by Laura Kaye
Her nod brushed her hair against his chest.
He arched his pelvis and traced the curve of her spine with his fingertips. The head of his erection bumped her abdomen, and a soft gasp escaped her lips. “I understand what drove you to do what you did.” He smoothed his palm across her hair and curled his lips in a half smile. “I don’t want you to ever feel afraid or helpless again. I’ll always be there for you. And that’s not ever going to change.”
The tension in her body eased under his hands. “So we’re okay?”
“Yes.” He nodded. Kenric pulled her in, enjoying the warmth of her body and the feel of her heart beating next to his flesh. “We’re more than okay.”
“You have no idea how much it means to me to hear you say those words. I can’t imagine, after everything we’ve been through together, having to live the rest of my days without you.”
Kenric flinched. The idea of something coming between them or someone taking her away seared through him like the hot edge of a blade, leaving him raw and exposed. He drew her closer, tighter. “Never going to happen,” he growled.
A few moments later, Kenric stepped away and quirked an eyebrow. “Now, let’s get back to my plan.” With a quick adjustment to the dials, he found the right temperature and set the showerheads at the proper angle. He grinned as he picked up a large sponge before turning back to Emily.
Twirling the irregular-shaped ball of yellow around on his fingers, he cleared his throat, choosing his words carefully.
“As a nurse, aren’t you supposed to be licensed in the use of one of these?” He glanced her way and back to the item rotating in his hand. “There seem to be a few spots I just can’t quite reach. Think you can help a guy out?”
Her throat worked, and he could sense her attempt to hold back a laugh.
“Yes, I’m fully licensed.” She plucked the sponge from his hand with a playful smile. “In fact, I believe I excelled in that area. But you, my darling, appear to be completely healthy.” Her devilish gaze dropped between his legs to where his cock stood at full mast.
“You’ve got one thing right.” His voice deepened. With an arm, he pulled her in close, making sure she felt every rock-hard inch of him. “Very healthy.”
She nuzzled against him. God, he loved the way she felt against his skin. Soft. Warm. And so…right.
“Like you said, though,” she said, glancing up with a grin before slinking her body down his chest and dropping to her knees. His heart rate leaped into a gallop, and his cock bobbed, the tip brushing her upturned cheek. Her twinkling eyes never left his. “I’m the nurse here, so let me be the judge of that.”
Her warm fingers gripped the base of his shaft as her mouth closed over the head. Blood left his brain in a dizzying rush. At the first pull of her sweet lips, his fangs exploded into his mouth. He gripped the shower walls at his sides with a hiss.
Slowly, she engulfed the near length of him. Then she pushed his control to the breaking point when she dropped her head back and took even more. The head of his cock bumped the smooth, slick surface at the back of her throat. Bloody hell! Never before…
His hands dropped to her head, and he buried his fingers in the damp curls of her auburn hair.
“Emily…,” he rasped. He would never get enough of her.
She cupped one hand to his sac and the other around the base of his shaft. His head fell back with a moan. Her hot tongue bathed the underside of his cock while working its way up the rigid length. His head fell forward on the special attention she paid to the sensitive rim. The hands he’d entwined in her hair trembled with restraint. Her lips, hands, and tongue drove him insane. The way she watched him as if in ecstasy—the hottest fucking thing he’d ever witnessed.
The tip of her tongue lapped at the leaking bead of precum before drawing it in for a long suck.
“Shit! God, sweetheart, you’re killing me.”
She paused long enough to give him a lazy, sexy smile.
“You like?” She applied a gentle squeeze to his shaft and balls. He cursed and fisted the back of her head.
“What do you think?” he growled.
“I think I’m not finished with my assessment yet.” And damn if she didn’t thoroughly assess every curved inch of him.
Back and forth she worked, battering at his self-control. His hips rocked of their own accord, driving his cock into her mouth. So damn good.
The sight of her surrounding him, swallowing him… He had to stop before it was too late. When he came, he wanted to be pumping deep inside her. He wanted to hear her scream his name.
“Stop, sweetheart.” His voice came out hoarse. “I need you to stop.” It took every ounce of strength he had to extract himself from the haven of her mouth.
“I wasn’t done yet.” She scowled, then curled her lip into a smile.
“But I have to get inside you. Now.” He drew her back up his body and into a desperate kiss, silencing the start of a proud giggle over a job well done. He nipped and sucked at her full lower lip, reveling in her little mewls with each tweak of his fang. “You’re destroying me with that wicked mouth of yours,” he muttered against her lips.
Emily loved the way he kissed and gasped for air as he broke away. She needed him. Needed him on a level she hadn’t known existed before he came into her life. It terrified her to crave another so much that every fiber of her being cried out for him. Yet she couldn’t run anymore. To never touch him again, or feel his touch, would be an agony she knew she would never survive.
His large and callused palms guided her to the bench on the other side of the shower. “Kneel here.”
She did as he requested and climbed onto the heated tiles. “Do you know how beautiful you are to me, Wildflower?” he whispered and caressed her bottom. The rough texture of his hands sent shivers over her skin. Her nipples puckered, yearning for his touch. She reached behind her head and dug her fingers into his hair. He encircled her waist, then slid his palms up her belly to cup her achy breasts. “You bring me to my knees. No woman has ever stirred me the way you do.”
The way he touched her, his words, made her feel…cherished.
He rolled her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, then gave them a slight tug. Her back arched, and her head dropped onto his chest with a moan. The hot ridge of his erection pressed between her cheeks and worked back and forth on the slickened path of her arousal. The erotic sensations at her breasts, coupled with the torture of his hard shaft at her rear, had her begging for more.
“Now. God, Kenric, I want you inside me now.”
His hand left her breast and followed the curve of her raised derriere. Large fingers slid between her cheeks and folds before dipping a shallow inch into her pussy. She cried out.
He hissed against her neck. “So wet for me. Do you know what a fucking turn-on that is, sweetheart?”
She loved that he seemed to lose his hold on his control, and how his voice and language turned primal. “Only for you.”
Soft kisses, laced with a growl, trailed down her throat and shoulder. His hand slid up her arm and drew her fingers from his hair. Before her, he gently pressed them against the wall with a command. “Don’t move.”
The thrill of his control, and only his control, accelerated her desire, heightening her awareness of every touch.
Of him.
Tears welled in her eyes from her escalating need and unfettered emotions, blurring her vision of the tile before her. The muscles in her thighs trembled.
God, how had she ever denied her attraction—her visceral need for this man?
At last, the broad head of his erection pressed against her opening—where her body throbbed with emptiness. She gasped, riding on the wave of pleasure.
“I’ve got what you need.” He bathed the tip of his cock in her wetness. “Remember that.”
How did he think she could ever forget? Her body would forever crave his. From the first moment he’d touched her, she had belonged to him.
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��I’ll always have what you need.” His deep voice stroked her, making her center ache from its void. “Right here.” He surged forward, burying every inch of his hard cock deep inside her.
She cried out, and a spasm worked over her body as he slammed into her pussy, stretched her, and filled her to the brink of rapture. Rapid intakes of air burned a path through her chest. “Kenric… Oh, God. Yes.”
“You were made for me,” he groaned.
She wanted to move, but his arms held her tight to his chest.
He rocked into her, slowly at first, then with glorious, hard pumps of his cock. The large, smooth head of his erection bumped her womb with each thrust and stoked fevered nerve endings higher, giving her exactly what she needed. Her nails dug at the tile wall as her orgasm broke.
She screamed, riding the waves that shook her with ecstasy. He gripped her hips, thrusting inside her with delicious friction, extending her mind-altering bliss.
The sharp sting of fangs at her neck had her crying out his name as another orgasm shattered on the heels of the last. A deep groan vibrated against her throat, and the warmth of his ejaculation saturated her deep inside.
For a brief moment, the weight of his body covered hers before he slid from her and onto the bench. He pulled her over with him and onto his lap. His lips claimed hers before she could utter a sound, but she didn’t care. She could kiss him for the rest of her days and never tire of his taste. Her fingers mindlessly wandered up into his dark and wet waves. She loved his hair, loved the way the silky texture caressed her skin.
She moved to his jaw, lightly spreading her kisses along his shadow of a beard. “There’s something I want to tell you,” she breathlessly uttered. The words were busting to get out. She couldn’t go another night without letting him know how she felt.
He stared down at her expectantly. “What is it?”
“When I thought I was dying the other night, when that animal was at my throat…” His arms tensed. She brushed his cheek with the backs of her fingers. “There were many things I thought would have flashed in my mind at the moment of my death.” She threaded her fingers through his damp hair. “But the only thing I saw was you.” She turned to touch her lips to his. “I only saw you,” she repeated and lost herself in his kiss.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The smell of blood, sex, and death clung to the air. Kenric’s eyes were closed, but he didn’t have to see to know precisely where she’d placed him. He tugged his lids apart. The dark gray walls of his former slave cell met his retinas.
“Marguerite, this is getting old,” he said in his most bored tone.
The shackles holding Kenric imprisoned on the cot dropped from his wrists and ankles and clattered against the stone wall. He rolled to his feet and strode across the dirt floor. His fingers gripped the rusted iron of the bars that once had held him. A pair of cold palms slithered up his back. Fangs dropped into his mouth, and he unleashed a sharp hiss of warning.
“Unlike with Annice, you got lucky—this time, Kenric.”
“There won’t be a next time.” He roared and spun, driving Marguerite’s body into the opposite wall with his mind.
Her back crashed into the rock. A shower of loose dirt littered the floor and air around her.
“Tsk-tsk-tsk. My, aren’t we touchy about the female.” She emerged from the cloud of dust. “You must be fucking her.” Her green eyes darkened to a pitch black, and her hips swayed as she sauntered closer. “Bet she doesn’t make you come as hard as I do. Does she, darling?”
He curled his lips into a purposeful, lazy smile. “You have no idea,” he said, closing the distance between them, his chest a whisper from hers. Her eyes widened. “When I come for her, she leaves my lungs burning, starved for air, and I shout her name from my soul.” The tips of her fangs dropped into sight. “My cock may have come for you, but your name never left my lips.”
Her head reared back, red lips stretched in a hideous contortion of rage as a shriek tore from her throat.
She lunged.
Kenric pivoted, and Marguerite whirled, her long hair fanning around her like a black cape.
“What exactly do you want, Marguerite? You have Goran’s blood. What do you plan to do with it?”
“There are things you don’t know.” She shook her head. “You turn down my offering of a place at my side so quickly, like swatting a fly.” She batted her hand and stepped forward. “It’s more than power that I’ve come for.” Her green eyes shone in the darkness. “But you won’t give me the opportunity to show you what’s in store for our future. Trust me. I guarantee you won’t be disappointed with the outcome. Together, our union would make everything right.” Marguerite’s lashes lowered as if she savored the vision in her mind.
Trust her? Goran’s essence had infected her, taking her deep inside a version of reality that she alone understood. She was insane.
“And if you won’t come to me willingly…” Her expression morphed into a sneer. “I will make it happen.” She sprang into the air, aiming straight for him.
“I’m done, Marguerite.” He spread his arms wide. “Game over.”
His eyelids sprang open. The warmth and darkness of his bedroom enveloped him as an echo of an outraged scream rang in his mind. Damn, that felt good. Rolling onto his side, he pulled Emily’s soft body close, spooning her backside. He needed to make sure if Marguerite ever came close, Emily stood a fighting chance. That meant one thing: Emily needed to be his in every way. She had to become his mate. A slow smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and his cocked twitched. Damn, he liked that idea.
She mumbled in her sleep and squirmed in his arms. Holding her tighter, he smoothed her hair. Her murmurs grew in intensity, the beat of her heart a rapid pounding drum in her chest.
“Get off of me! No!” She broke into a sob and thrashed against his hold. “I said no! Stop, please.”
“Emily! Wake up, love. It’s me.” She rolled, facing him. He grabbed her forearms, blocking the fists going for his face and chest.
“Stop! I won’t let you do this,” she snarled through her fangs.
“Emily!” He gave her a shake, hard enough to get her attention but not enough to hurt. Her lashes lifted. For a few moments, wide hazel eyes gazed unseeingly into his before recognition took hold.
“Kenric,” she whispered. She threw herself into his arms, rocking him back. His heart ached with each shudder running through her. In silence, he held her. He had a feeling what she needed most were his arms, not his words.
After a while, her tremors stilled. “Sorry about that. I don’t know what happened.” She shrugged. “Bad dream, I guess.”
He lifted her chin, the lingering shadow of pain impossible to miss.
“It’s more than a bad dream, and we both know it. When are you going to let me in so that I can take that pain from you?”
A rush of moisture filled her eyes, but she blinked it away. She shifted from his hold and leaned against the headboard, her face a stoic shield.
“I haven’t asked you any more questions. I wanted to give you time to come to me, when you were ready. During your turning, you cried out about your father, and now this.” He slid next to her and caressed her cheek with his palm. “I know you’re hurting. Talk to me, love.”
She dragged her face from his touch and tucked her chin. “It’s embarrassing,” she mumbled. “I’m a grown woman, letting the scars from my childhood and the actions of another still affect me.”
“Emily…” With the palm of his hand, he cupped her chin. “Look at me.” She clutched his hand with her own and allowed him to bring her face to his. “I’m the epitome of that statement. I have allowed the past to define me for three centuries.”
She reached out, turned, and sank into his arms. Fine with him. No place in the world he’d rather be than wrapped around her.
A deep sigh released from her chest. “After my ninth birthday, not a day went by that my father wasn’t drunk, and when he was…anything
would set him off.” He held her a little tighter. “Something as simple as not moving fast enough when he called or not cleaning my plate at dinner. I never knew what I would get. His fist, his belt…or his favorite punishment, the closet.” Chills lifted under his palms, and she shivered. Lightly, he brushed her arms, warming her and hoping to encourage her to let go of the horrible memories.
“I used to pray for the belt. At least it would have been over faster.” She grew quiet and still in his embrace. Then a soft voice whispered, “I hate the dark. My dad would lock me away when he said I was bad. Our coat closet didn’t have a light. I would lie there with my face as close as I could get to the narrow slit of light under the door.”
Both his hands curled into tight fists. Son of a bitch. His gut rebelled at the image of her, a sweet little girl, abused in such a way. A damn good thing her father was already dead. Daddy wouldn’t have wanted to experience the punishment he had in mind for him.
He placed a kiss to the top of her head. She cleared her throat and rubbed the back of his fist. “I never knew when he’d get around to coming back. Sometimes he would pass out, forgetting I was in there. Mom was too scared of what he’d do to her if she let me out before he gave permission. She let him control her every move and virtually her every breath.” Her voice grew bolder. “I promised myself I’d never allow any man to treat me or my chil…” She stilled, the rest of her words left hanging in midair. “I’m never going to have children, am I?” The sad plea in her voice wrapped around his heart and squeezed.
Kenric closed his eyes and breathed deep. Would she hate him now? “No, Wildflower,” he whispered. “Just like we talked about, as far as I know, male or female, the result is the same: sterility.”
Her curls brushed his chest as she nodded. “Well, I won’t lie and say it’s not disappointing. But sometimes you may not see why you’re led down a certain path in life. You just have to hold on in the dark and have a little faith that you’ll end up exactly where you’re supposed to be.”