“Delicious, Plum. Just as I knew you’d be.”
“Fuck, Masterson.”
“That’s the plan.” I grabbed her hand and tugged her behind me, letting my thrall clear a path, dragging her to a dark spot under a set of open, metal stairs. The shadows were deeper here, and the high tables with dark netting draped across them would hide much of what I was about to do to her from any non-human who chose to watch. I usually liked the idea of people around us, of glances our way as I owned her body. But aspects of this would be mine and mine alone. I would never share my Plum.
“Hold tight to the top, my sweet.” I edged between her and the table, her arms on either side of me.
“Why?” she asked, all breathy and wide-eyed. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to make you come on my tongue, sweet. And then I’m going to fuck you. Hands on the table. Don’t make me tell you again.” I placed her hands on the tabletop and ducked underneath, dissolving just enough to keep from being seen. Shoving her skirt up her hips and ripping the panties off her, I dove into her pussy like a man possessed. Demanding a taste and taking what was so freely offered. Grabbing her leg, lifting her thigh onto my shoulder, I made her shiver and shake with my ministrations. Made her groan as I used my mouth on her. Long licks with my tongue, teeth and lips playing with her clit, sucking every drop of her down. Feasting on her.
Plum shivered and shook as I suckled her clit hard, as I slid two fingers inside. As I purred against her. Gasping, clinging to the table, rolling her hips against my face, she worked for every bit of her pleasure. And I loved that. Loved that she wasn’t afraid to take what she wanted right there. No fear of people seeing, no care to what others thought. Plum was out to get exactly what she wanted, the rest of the club be damned.
In the middle of a flat-tongued lick that had Plum’s knees shaking, a waitress approached the table. I heard her before I felt her, felt her before she was too close to see what was going on. Plum froze, body stiff, not pulling away but not moving, either. I grinned and gave her clit a nip, making her jump just as the waitress reached the table. This would be fun.
“Can I get you anything?” she asked my Plum, who had both hands holding on to the tabletop as if her life depended on it. Instead of going easy on her, giving her a break in front of the other woman, I thrust my fingers deeper, suckling her clit. Refusing to give her a single inch.
“Ah…no. I…no, thanks.”
I gripped Plum’s hips, pulling her to me, purring against her flesh, making her shiver. Backing away for a second, releasing her clit, I gave Plum a moment to relax. Then I ran my free hand up between her legs. I teased her with my thumb, getting it good and wet as I kept fucking her with my other hand, then trailed it back. Farther still. Pressing my thumb between her ass cheeks.
“You sure?” the waitress asked, making me chuckle. Poor Plum. I pressed my thumb into her little hole, slowly working the tip inside. Plum’s knees shook, her body wound tight, ready to explode.
“Yeah…yes. I’m sure. Positive. I want…nothing…from you.”
I purred louder, making sure she felt it as the waitress walked away. Plum’s body sagged, her hands relaxing their grip on the table. But not for long. I pushed my thumb inside her ass, teasing her as I added a third finger to her pussy. As I licked a long, wide swath across her clit.
“Fuck, Masterson,” she groaned, inching her legs apart, giving me more room.
Sticky sweetness coated my mouth and chin, making me purr louder. Plum gasped when she felt the vibration against her sensitive flesh, nearly stumbling in her efforts to press herself closer. Grabbing her hips, holding her still, I pressed my mouth against her and did it again, making the sound more animal, my fingers and thumb moving faster. Harder. Giving more.
A moment of quiet, a tiny gasp barely heard over the noise of the club, and she came. Milking me. Coating me in her sweet juice as I lapped up every drop. It was glorious and beautiful the way her legs shook, how the muscles inside squeezed my fingers in a rhythm as old as time. How her hips jerked and her knees seemed to melt. Completely and utterly perfect.
But still not enough.
Note from the Author
Check out the rest what happens when vampire Masterson meets his match.
Available only for a limited time!
Discover Masterson
Learn more about Ellis Leigh at:
www.ellisleigh.com
Facebook
Twitter
On Wicked Ground
by Sharon Kay
Part of the Solsti Prophecy series
A thief. A warrior. A terrible price paid in advance.
The first twelve years of Alina’s life are a black void. An accomplished thief, she uses her cloaking ability to pick pockets as well as stage elaborate heists. With her newly-discovered affinity to the earth, she becomes the linchpin to halting a deranged but brilliant villain.
In secret, Lash Watcher Caine plots vengeance for the destruction of everything he loved. Branded by loss, he longs to find his one true mate, knowing that only with her will his heart fully heal. When his brief meeting with Alina is interrupted by her elaborate evade-and-escape plan, he knows there is more to her than meets his watchful eyes. But nothing can prepare him for the lethal power of her mind.
Thrown into a battle plan and a boisterous new family, Alina finds joy in in the quiet strength of Caine’s arms. But when the secrets to her past are revealed, she learns a terrible price has been paid in advance. The very magic that allowed her to live to fulfill a prophecy will forever deny her heart’s deepest wish.
** In the scene you are about to read, Caine has returned from a two day tactical assignment only to discover that in his absence, Alina has been in his locked room. So far, they have only shared steamy kisses, but her scent in his bed sends him on a new, non-negotiable mission: track her, talk to her, pin her, devour her. **
Caine reached his floor and started walking down the marble hall to his room, when he was slammed with a wall of olfactory sensation. Moonflowers.
Alina.
What was she doing in the unmated Watcher quarters? Was she in another male’s room? The thought pissed him off, and the fact he was pissed made him more pissed. He didn’t have a claim on her. Just a promise from her that she’d wear those sexy-ass boots.
With each step closer to his room, her scent intensified. But it wasn’t fresh. He could tell the difference between the scent rolling off her tight little body when she was near, and the trace of it left behind. Like on that gate at Mulvari’s party, and on the manicured grass bearing a trail of her blood.
Thank the gods that she was safe and unharmed after that ordeal. Not the most conventional way to meet a female. Then again, neither of them was conventional. He unlocked his door, noting her scent clung to it, and stepped inside.
Holy hell.
As he slammed the door shut behind him, his cock roared to life.
The air in the room was saturated with her essence. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, drawing her into every cell. Blood rushed to his groin as desire over-rode the question of why she’d been in here, knowing he was gone.
She’s a th—
No. His mind crushed the thought before it could fully form. She wouldn’t take anything of his. He knew it. And if she had, he’d find it. Find her, since she was staying under his roof.
Shaking his head, he unholstered his blades and set them down on the dresser’s surface. Later, he’d give them a final wipe down and put them in his safe—
His eyes snapped to his closet and he stalked over to open the door. Holy shit. She’d been in here too. Her scent lingered on his clothes, as if she had touched each one.
What was she looking for?
He backed into the room and yanked off his grubby T-shirt, dropping it on the floor. He eyed his bed, rumpled as usual because he never made it. Had she lain down there?
The thought made his cock painfully hard against his zipper.
He leaned over his rumpled bedding. Teasing tendrils of her scent danced up to meet him, taunting, screaming, “She was right here!”
A dark curse escaped his lips and fuck, he needed to find her. But he was covered in fight grime and sporting an erection so hard, being near her might not be a good idea. She was sexy and tough, and if that wasn’t enough of a turn on, he’d tasted those sweet lips. Had her on his lap, soft and willing. And now, at one of his species’ fertile times, he walked close to the edge of his control.
He quickly shucked his boots, socks, tactical pants and boxer briefs, stalked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Ice cold. That’s what he needed to crush his rampant thoughts of taking her hard and fast. She was a Solsti, for fuck’s sake. She had a role to play, as all four did. She was practically a goddess.
Stepping into the shower, he welcomed the icy blast on his skin. Too bad his dick didn’t seem to notice. Memories of Alina poured into that bustier at Hell’s Gate assaulted his mind. Tight leather pants. Getting her alone in the anteroom, with the scent of sex all around them…
He gritted his teeth and rocked his hips, need riding him hard. Grabbing the shampoo, he lathered it into his hair roughly. He needed to get her off his mind. He also needed to talk to her, find out why she’d broken in. But he couldn’t do anything with his cock swollen like a fucking rocket.
No, it would be better for her, and for anyone else he may have the misfortune to run into, if he took care of things right here.
Soap coursed down his body as he scrubbed, leaving his cock for last. He reached down to take himself in hand, fingers slick with suds sliding over the proud insistence of his arousal. Alina’s body would be this slick, this warm…Closing his eyes, he pictured her breasts plumped up in black lace, heaving with short breaths as he teased her ear at the club.
Another minute more and he would’ve traced that lacy edge, eager to feel her creamy white skin contained by only stitches and hooks. Then he’d grab her ass. Spank her for parading around in such a fuck-me outfit. Those leather pants were a wet dream waiting to happen…
He pumped harder, remembering her slight weight as she straddled him on the balcony. Full lips framed a mouth that tasted like honey and she’d welcomed him in. Greedy Solsti. And then she’d been in his fucking bed…he imagined her there now, naked, writhing, legs parted for him to taste every inch of her. She’d be sweet and hot. Would she scream his name when he made her come?
His orgasm barreled through him without warning, making his hips flex as hot jets of fluid landed on the tiled floor. It went on and on, as he imagined fucking her here under the shower spray. She was so tiny he would be able to hold her, moving her up and down his cock until they were both sated.
He let out a breath and turned toward the cold water, bracing his hands on the wall as his heart rate came back down to normal. Holy gods. He needed another taste of her. But maybe now, he’d be able to speak coherently and not hunt her down like prey. Though hunting her down was all the primal demon in him wanted.
***
Alina woke alone in the quiet room, her stomach empty and ravenous. She stood up and stretched, wondering what time it was. Checking the clock on a nearby table, she saw she’d slept for six hours. Wow.
Crossing the room, she exited and had to blink away the bright afternoon light in the marble hall. Kitchen. Where’s the kitchen? She knew she’d passed it on the way to Whysper’s quiet room. She looked left and right, pretty sure she remembered coming from the left.
Creeping silently out of habit, she made her way to a wide arched doorway. Yes! Inside were three large worktables, three six burner stoves, and four ovens. It looked like it was built for feeding an army. She walked in, padding across the stone floor in search of a pantry. White marble counters gleamed, reflecting the fire bulbs overhead. Only two were on, and Alina kept it that way, seeing just fine in the dim light.
She walked to an entrance near the opposite wall and sucked in a breath.
This pantry was bigger than her room in the last house she’d shared with Sebastian.
Jars and baskets of fruits and vegetables sat on neat wooden shelves. Nuts, breads, pastries, and spices arranged on movable wire racks made her mouth water. Her stomach growled loudly.
Grabbing a loaf of bread, she turned to go back into the kitchen to make a sandwich—and ran straight into a wall of muscle.
Caine.
She sucked in a breath. “You’re back!” She clutched her bread and fought the urge to throw her arms around him.
“And you…” He took a half step closer. “Were in my room.”
Shit. How did he know? She’d locked up after herself. She hadn’t moved anything…wait, the gray T-shirt. Had he noticed it was missing? She did her best to feign confusion and pasted a you-must-be-confused look on her face. At least, she hoped that’s how she looked. “Your room?”
He nodded, dark eyes unreadable.
Was he angry? A delicious mix of soap and woods and man wafted from his skin, lulling her and ramping her up at the same time. He stood so close she had to tilt her head back to look him in the eye. She backed up. “I don’t kn—”
“I don’t mind.” One brawny arm braced above her head, and she realized he’d backed her up against the shelves. Wall or shelves—it didn’t matter, he had her caged between him and a hard place. Again.
“You don’t?” Her voice came out as a whisper-squeak.
“No.” He leaned down, lips almost touching her ear. “I may have liked it.”
Tingles shot across her skin and she resisted the need to turn and meet those sinful lips. “W-what do you mean, may have?”
“Depends on why you were there.” He took the bread out of her hand and set it on the shelf by her hip. “So how about fessing up?”
She swallowed hard. She’d have to let him win this one. And she’d have to be sneakier next time. “I missed you.”
“Yeah?” His deep voice rumbled straight through her.
“Yes.”
“Then I definitely liked it.”
She took a deep breath to steady her racing heart. “How’d you know?” A thief always strove to hide her tracks.
“Your scent.” He straightened.
Her shoulders sagged. “Damn it. You guys have way better noses than me. I wasn’t even there very long.”
“It was long enough. Your scent was on my door. Inside and outside.” One hand skimmed her hip, tracing a slow pattern up her waist.
She froze as her entire body forgot everything except his touch.
“And in my closet.” His other hand cupped her nape. “On my weapons safe.”
She met his eyes, unable to put up a façade. Every line of defense fell with each caress of his strong hands.
“And in. My. Bed.” With each word, his hands tightened a fraction more.
She gulped a breath, dizzy from his nearness and damn near incoherent from the raw masculinity pouring off him.
He leaned down again, on her other side this time, lips skating over the shell of her ear. “You know what time of year it is.”
No, she didn’t know her own name right now. “Um, December?”
“You in my bed, at our fertile time…some would take that as a blatant invitation.”
Oh god, that’s not what she had intended. But his words sparked an ache deep in her body. Her breath came in short bursts. “I…”
“Is it?” The hand at her waist slid up her ribs, stopping beneath her breast.
Her stomach clenched at his touch. She couldn’t think. “Is it what?”
“An invitation.” The word was growled, as if he held on to his control by a thread.
No. Yes. I don’t know. She knew she had only seconds before he took her hesitation as a rejection, and he would put distance between them. But she couldn’t form a sentence to save her life. So she did the one thing her body screamed for, and turned to press her lips to his.
It was like dropping a match onto bone-dry kindling, igniti
ng a need so urgent it stole her breath. Like the past two days had been two years, both of them lost in a desert. Alone and apart. He yanked her flush against him so swiftly she gasped, and he took advantage of her parted lips. Thrusting his talented tongue inside her mouth, he kissed her with devastating possession, and all she could do was hang on.
He threaded a hand into her hair, gripping it so he could angle her the way he wanted. She slid her hands up his biceps, greedy fingers caressing the hard muscles that strained against his sleeves. His hair was thick and soft, and she knotted her hands in it as she melted against him.
His tongue tangled with hers, exploring her mouth with erotic flicks that she knew he would mimic on other parts of her body. That thought made her thighs clench against the liquid heat pooling between her legs.
Caine pulled back, eyes glowing with an uncanny silver-black light, nostrils flaring. Without warning his hands cupped her ass and walked her over to a cabinet on the other wall, with no shelves above it. He set her down on it, stepped between her legs, and before she could blink, he was kissing a fiery path down her neck. His lips were so warm, so slick, she dropped her head to one side to grant him better access.
He nibbled and scraped his teeth across her shoulder. Then he bit gently, teeth holding her skin. “Caine!” she panted. Shimmers of pleasure raced down her arms from the spot where his sharp teeth clamped. His lips were soft and firm, and those teeth gave just the right amount of pressure. Her body jerked and the ache in her lower abdomen exploded into a fierce urgency.
He skated the back of one hand down her tank top, across her breast, making her nipple harden to a painful point. She whimpered and wriggled, trying to get closer. She reached for him, needing to feel his skin, needing to forget everything else. At least for this moment, she could push away all thoughts of prophecies and spells and destinies. Right now, it was just her and Caine. She hooked her fingers into his waistband and used the leverage to pull herself closer.
Dark & Stormy Alpha Nights Page 2