Dark Desire (Dark Series - book 2)

by Christine Feehan

  Jacques caught a fistful of her red hair, soaked and darkened by the driving rain. He urged her forward, thrusting his hips aggressively, consumed with need for her touch. She was laughing softly, tauntingly, as the heated, moist interior of her mouth slid over him. He groaned and held her to him, lifted his face to the wild storm.

  “You have to mean it, Shea. You cannot do this and not mean it.” The words were torn from him, raw and hurting, as if from his soul.

  She tightened her hold on him, followed his unintentional thrusting, deliberately enticed him further. He dragged her up, buried his face in her neck, breathing deeply to maintain a semblance of control. Hands spanning her waist, he lifted her.

  “Put your legs around my waist, love.” He was biting her throat gently, his teeth urgent, his tongue easing every ache.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, settled herself over him, felt the hard thickness of him pushing aggressively for entrance. He felt far too big, so hot she was afraid both of them would go up in flames. Before she could ease herself over him, he thrust upward, spearing her, filling her so completely that she cried his name. The sound was lost in the violence of the storm raging around them.

  The rain ran down her face, off her pale shoulders, down her full, gleaming breasts to form beads at the peaks of her rose-colored nipples. Jacques caught the water in his mouth, his body thrusting hard into hers. Flames burned them, consumed them, leapt between them. She was fiery heat gripping him, holding him to her, drawing him deeper and deeper into the magic of her spell.

  Jacques’ mouth found hers again, a little brutally, feeding voraciously, dominantly, laying claim to her, branding her for all time. “Open your mind to mine.” The whisper was once again against her throat She felt his mouth at the hollow of her shoulder, his teeth, the heat and beckoning hunger. “Give me your mind, Shea. Let me in and keep me there.” The whisper was a sorcerer’s web. He was weaving a spell so strong, she had no thought to deny him anything.

  He surged into her body, pushed through the barrier into her mind, and claimed her heart. At once everything was different. He felt her pleasure, so intense she was nearly on fire with it. She felt his pleasure, reaching for the very stars, his body gathering strength, his wanting her fulfillment above his own. He wanted the world for her, ached to have her love him as he was, damaged and broken and nearly a madman. She could see into his soul, the barely leashed beast always striving for dominance, never quite conquered. She could see his fear of losing her, of being forever vampire, loathed and hunted by his own kind. And she could see his terrible need to protect her, keep her safe, and his need to please her. He wanted to earn her respect and love, be worthy of it. He made no effort to hide the demon in him, dark and ugly, so hungry for revenge, so in need of a keeper.

  Shea allowed her childhood, stark and lonely, to flow into his mind, her fears of sharing her life, her need for control and discipline, her total desire for him and her secret dreams of children and a family.

  Jacques’ arms tightened, and he laughed softly, triumphantly. She had faced the worst in him, and her body was meeting his every thrust with a tight, fiery friction. Her mind was consumed with hunger and need for him and a fragile commitment she was determined to see through. He took her mouth as he took her body, wild and crazy and completely uninhibited. Thunder rolled and boomed, and she keened softly, clutching at him as her body clenched around his and exploded into the stars. His hoarse cry was lost in the fury of the storm as his entire body seemed to disintegrate, to soar and erupt with all the explosive power of a volcano.

  Exhausted and sated, Shea lay her head on his shoulder as he leaned against the barreled trunk of the closest tree. The rains cooled the heat of their bodies, finally penetrated the wild desire and hot hunger that had shielded them from its onslaught.

  Very gently Jacques lowered her feet to the ground, retaining possession of her waist to help her trembling legs hold her up. Shea raised a hand to push back her rain-slick hair. He caught her fingers and raised her palm to his mouth. “You are the most beautiful sight I have ever seen.”

  She smiled, shook her head at him. “You’re crazy, you know that? This is one of the most magnificent lightning storms I’ve ever seen, and I didn’t even notice until now.”

  He grinned at her suggestively, rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Says something.”

  “Exactly,” she agreed. “You’re crazy, and I must be, too.”

  His hands cupped her bottom, drew her close against his hard frame, his face buried in the hollow of her shoulder as he savored the moment. He would never forget how he felt, how she looked, so wild and beautiful in the storm, and her complete acceptance of him with his shattered mind and leashed demons. “This will never go away, Shea, what we feel for one another. It never goes away. It gets stronger with each century. You never have to worry about losing this intensity.”

  He felt her smile against his bare skin, the small kiss she pressed into his chest. “I might not survive. I’m not sure I can stand up on my own.”

  “I can help you with that.” There was a teasing, insinuating note in his voice, and she felt him press her closer, felt him thicken and harden against her stomach.

  “You really are crazy. I hate to be a wet blanket, but it’s raining all over us.” She was laughing as she protested, her body moving subtly against his, unable to believe they could possibly do more than cling to one another after such a wild encounter.

  He turned her so that she was against the tree, his large frame shielding her from the driving rain. Jacques’ palms cupped her face, and he bent his head to hers, his mouth tender, loving, as he kissed her slightly swollen mouth. “I will never get enough of you, not if we live centuries.” His palms moved over her breasts possessively down her flat stomach to rest there, fingers splayed wide. “I cannot wait to feel our child growing within you.” His eyes darkened to black ice. “I never thought I could share you with anyone, but the thought of our child makes me want you even more.”

  “Slow down, wild man, I think we need to get to know one another better first. We’re a couple of emotional cripples, and that doesn’t make for great parenting.”

  He laughed softly against her mouth before he kissed her again. “I know what is in your mind and heart, little one. It is not so scary for me anymore. Once you make up your mind, you stick to it like glue. It is what makes you such a good researcher.”

  “Don’t think you’re going to get around me with sex. Just as you were in my mind, I was in yours. Don’t think I didn’t notice your tendency to want to dominate.”

  His hands were delving into shadows and hollows, finding all kinds of secret, sensitive places. His mouth slid down her throat, a bunting trail as he lapped up the water until he came to her breasts. “You do not think sex is a good idea in these situations?” His tongue swirled over her nipple; his teeth scraped lovingly along the contour of the creamy swell, followed it into the valley over her heart. “But you taste so good.” His hand cupped springy curls, pushed against moist heat before his fingers tested the fire in her waiting sheath. “And you feel so good.”

  “You are so crazy,” She couldn’t help but laugh, pushing against his hand, using her own to stroke and caress and arouse him further. “I swear, Jacques, neither of us is going to be able to stand.” She should have felt the cold, but the rain only added to the erotic moment, feeding the intensity of the flames growing between them.

  Laughing, happy, Jacques backed her toward a fallen log, turning her around so that she faced away from him. Placing her hands on the moss-covered log for stability, he bent her forward so that he could place a kiss at the base of her spine. The light brush sent a shiver of excitement spiraling through her, a shudder of pleasure as his fingers assured him she was ready for him.

  Catching her slender hips in his large hands, Jacques paused for a moment, marveling at the perfection of a woman’s body, Shea’s body. Her bottom was round and firm, well-muscled and inviting. “You ar
e so beautiful, Shea, unbelievably beautiful.” He pushed against her, prolonging the moment of entrance, watching the rain slide down her pale satin skin to meet the hard length of him.

  “Jacques!” Shea pushed back against him excitedly, her body soft and yielding, wet and welcoming.

  He drove into the tight, hot, velvet sheath so perfectly fitted to his body. The feel of her was ecstasy all over again, an experience he would never get enough of. Jacques thrust forward, hard and deep, wanting to fill her completely, needing to hear her soft, keening cries. It drove him wild, those little sounds coming from her throat, the way her body pushed back to meet his. The rain seemed a part of it all, surrounding them like a veil, sliding over their hot bodies, sensitizing their skin. He felt her around him, a part of him, one body, truly together, with the earth moving around them and the heavens ripped apart by their passion. He could feel every muscle in his body taut and ready, waiting, waiting, the perfect moment with her body clenching around his, taking his seed from him as he surged into her again and again, a torrent of color and beauty and miraculous pleasure. He felt her open to him, her mind and heart and soul, softly feminine, exquisitely woman, all his. Her pleasure matched his own beat for beat, shudder for shudder. He had to hold her to keep himself on his feet, and they collapsed together into the soaked vegetation.

  Holding each other, the rain cooling their bodies, they laughed like children. “I expected steam this time,” Jacques said, crushing her to him.

  “Can you do that?” Shea fit the back of her head into the niche of his sternum. One hand idly slid over the heavy muscles of his chest.

  “Make us so hot we turn the rain to steam?” He grinned boyishly down at her, for the first time so carefree that he forgot for a moment the torment he had suffered. She made him invincible. She made him vulnerable. Most of all, she made him alive.

  “No, really—what they did, those others. They were like fog or mist. Can you really do that?” Shea persisted. “I mean, you said you could, but I thought maybe you were delusional.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Delusional?” Jacques flashed a cocky grin, held out his arm, and watched as fur rippled along the length of it, as the fingers curved and extended into claws. He had to make a grab for Shea as she scrambled away from him, her eyes enormous. Jacques was careful not to hurt her with his strength.

  “Stop laughing at me, you brute. That’s not exactly normal.” A slow smile was beginning to curve her soft mouth. She couldn’t help but be happy for the innocent joy he found in each piece of information that came to him, each new memory of his gifts.

  “It is normal for us, love. We can shape-shift whenever we like.”

  She made a face. “You mean all those hideous stories are true? Rats and bats and slimy worm things?”

  “Now, why would I want to be a slimy worm thing?” He was openly laughing. The sound startled him; he couldn’t remember laughing aloud.

  “Very funny, Jacques. I’m so glad you find this amusing. Those people actually formed themselves out of fog, like something in a movie.” She gave a punch to his arm for emphasis. “Explain it.”

  “Shape-shifting is easy once you are strong. When I said we run with the wolf, I meant it literally. We run with the pack. We can fly with the owl and become the air.” He pushed back the wet hair framing her face. “Why is it you are not cold?”

  Shea sat up, astonished at the notion. She wasn’t cold, not really. She became cold when she thought about it, but she hadn’t been. “Why wasn’t I?”

  “Carpathians regulate their body temperature naturally. Illusion is also an easy thing to master. Clothes do not have to be bought unless we wish it. Most of the time we are very careful to follow human ways.” He kissed the top of her head. “You can pretend to be cold if that will make you feel better.”

  “I don’t like the idea of staying here, Jacques, staying so close to the others. I feel like I can’t breathe. But maybe it’s only because I don’t exactly see people turning into fog every day. Maybe we should stay a little longer and learn a few things from them.”

  “I can teach you how to shape-shift.” He sounded annoyed.

  Shea nipped his throat. “I definitely do not want to learn how to shape-shift. I’m still on square one, learning to share my life and my body with another person. But if I ever do want to be a rat or something like that, I promise only you will teach me. I’m talking about other things, like how the healer made you well so quickly.”

  Jacques swallowed his protest quickly. She actually sounded excited, not scared. He didn’t like the idea of another man near her, another man spending time with her. But she was a healer, and Gregori could teach her much. He wanted her to be happy.

  He reached for his memories.

  Gregori. The dark one.

  Ancient and powerful. Solitary. “He is always alone.” Carpathians whispered of his power, rarely used his name or spoke it aloud. “The healer always roams the earth seeking knowledge. He does not stay among our kind. There is none more dangerous, yet none more dedicated to preserving our race. Mikhail is his friend. They understand and respect one another.”

  Shea burrowed closer to Jacques’ body, a protection from the storm. “I can’t believe you’re remembering all of this. It’s amazing, Jacques. Does your head ache?”

  He rubbed his forehead even as he shook his head to deny it. The truth was, the pain was splintering and cracking the inside of his mind. For her, he could endure anything. “His one apprentice was only half a century younger than Gregori and Mikhail. He was different even in appearance. A loner like Gregori. He, too, searched for knowledge. He spoke most languages like a native and served as a soldier in many different armies. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with the same heavy muscles Gregori has. His hair was long and blond, very rare among our people. His eyes were gold, pure gold. Gregori allowed him to learn the art of healing from him. They were seen together on and off over a number of years all over the world.”

  “Who is he? Is he still alive?” Shea was intrigued.

  “He is named Aidan, and he has a twin. He often hunted with us.” His head was throbbing and threatening to explode if he continued.

  “Hunted what?” Shea held her breath, afraid of what he might say.

  “Beautiful women, little one, and I was the one who found you after all.” His white teeth gleamed at her, a definite leer.

  “Don’t put me off like that.” She had already taken advantage, sliding easily into his mind and picking out the pictures of danger and revulsion. Fear even. Not so much of their adversary, but of themselves turning into the very thing they sought to destroy.

  Jacques, unprepared for her entrance into his mind, had been confident he could keep the grimmer side of their existence watered down for her. Shea had always been reluctant to enter his mind; it hadn’t occurred to him that she would do so whenever she wanted.

  His expression was so rueful that Shea burst out laughing. “Where I grew up, that’s called being caught with your pants down.”

  He looked down at his body, glistening with the rain. His grin was self-mocking, his black eyes amused. “Literally.”

  “So where is Aidan now? Was he killed?”

  Jacques’ mind refused to relinquish the information at first. He had to go over and over the pieces to the puzzle, looking for an answer. Because it was hurting him, Shea rubbed lovingly at his arm. “Don’t try anymore.”

  “The United States. The last I remember, he and his people went to the States to control the vampire problems there. Vampires no longer stay here in the mountains where they are easily hunted. If Aidan is still alive, or if he has not turned”—he frowned over the possibility—”then he must still remain there, far from our land.”

  “What do you mean by his people? A lifemate? A child?”

  “He had no lifemate the last that I knew of him. As he is almost as old as Gregori and Mikhail, the danger to him has increased. The older the Carpathian male, the more difficult he fi
nds it to maintain civility.”

  “Then Gregori is a risk also.” Shea found herself shivering at the idea.

  “Gregori is the biggest danger of all, and Aidan is not far behind him. Yet Aidan has a family of sorts. Humans, generations that have served him faithfully. He has given them a fortune, yet they choose to stay with him. Mother to daughter. Father to son. He is the only Carpathian I know of that has such a family.”

  Lightning flashed, and on its heels thunder crashed almost overhead. Shea stiffened, the smile fading from her lips and eyes. Her open palm went to Jacques’ chest, held him away from her. All at once the welcoming forest and wild storm were no longer a sensual playground but a dark and sinister world. Shea scrambled to her feet, swiveling around, inspecting the darkened woods. Jacques rose with fluid grace, circled her waist with his arm protectively.

  “What is it?” Instantly he was scanning the area around them, seeking outside himself to reveal his enemies. He stepped in front of Shea to block any threat to her. He found nothing that alarmed him, but Shea’s mind held real fear.

  Shea stepped away from him, eyes anxiously sweeping the forest around them. She caught up her shirt, held it protectively against her body.

  “The others are far away,” Jacques said, but he moved again to place himself squarely in front of her in an effort to protect her from the unseen enemy.

  “There is something out there, Jacques, something evil watching us.” She dragged her shirt over her head quickly. “I know. I always know. Let’s get out of here.”

  Jacques waited for her to pull on her jeans before stepping into his own. His every sense was flaring out to the night, searching for anything to prove her right. He could detect nothing, yet her uneasiness was beginning to seep into his blood- I stream. He could feel himself bristle like a wolf ready for attack. “Describe what you feel to me. Let me into your mind fully.” It was an imperious order.