Into Darkness (A Night Prowler Novel)

by J. T. Geissinger

  Magnus leaned forward, then licked her face with his enormous, pink, scratchy tongue.

  “Ew! Bad kitty!” she laughed, pushing on his furred chest, but with a flash of light and a ripple of power, the animal was gone and the man was in its place, staring down at her with a look of barely leashed hunger in his eyes, his whole body taut as a bowstring.

  Naked, and taut as a bowstring.

  In a rasp of a voice, he growled, “You don’t like my tongue?”

  Lu thought she’d never heard anything so erotic in her entire life.

  She froze. Her hands were flat on his chest, her legs open around his hips. He was breathing hard and so was she, and as they stared into each other’s eyes the moment stretched out and she lost all sense of time or place, up or down, wrong or right. All she knew was that she wanted him. She burned for him. He was everything she’d ever wanted or could ever want, and it no longer mattered what happened in all their tomorrows: She needed to tell him how she felt before it was too late.

  For her, this man was home.

  “Actually, I love your tongue, Magnus,” she whispered, “and every other thing about you.”

  It was like fitting a key into a lock.

  He grasped her face in his hands and crushed his mouth to hers, kissing her with desperate abandon. His tongue was invading, demanding she kiss him back. She melted against him, her arms wound up around his shoulders, her hands tightened in his hair to pull him down deeper into her, harder against her body. They fell back against the mattress. He made a noise like an animal’s, deep in his throat, as she arched against him, moving her hands to his hard ass and pulling so the hot, hard length of his erection was between her legs, separated from her aching sex by only a thin strip of fabric.

  “Oh God,” Lu moaned as he broke the kiss, shoved up her camisole, palmed her breast, and sucked her hard nipple into his mouth. Tongue and teeth and amazing hot wetness, his mouth went from one breast to the other, greedily sucking, and she moaned once again, loving how wild he was, loving this raw, ragged passion. As he licked her he chanted broken words that meant so sweet and so beautiful and best of all, you’re mine, angel, tell me you’re mine!

  “Yes!” she cried as his teeth pressed into her skin, as his mouth ravaged her. “I’m yours! I’ll always be yours!”

  Another lock, another key to open it. Her answer drove him past the brink of restraint. He tore off her panties, tore off her camisole, every movement and look primal, his eyes aglow with lust. Something had snapped inside him. Now it was all about taking, claiming, satisfying the dark and awful ache they’d both felt since they’d first laid eyes on each other . . . and for years and years before that.

  He licked his way down her body, biting and kissing and growling, until he put one hand flat on her stomach and cupped the other under her bottom. Then he lifted her backside off the mattress and buried his face between her legs.

  She arched and cried out in shock and a pleasure so acute she thought she might pass out from it. He was as greedy there as he’d been with her mouth, and soon she was rocking her hips and mewling, her fingers clenched in his hair.

  “Magnus,” she gasped. Everything inside her body surged toward a high, sharp peak. “Please, please don’t stop!”

  He didn’t. He pushed her legs open wider, slid two fingers inside her, and sucked hard on her swollen clit.

  It was like a detonation. A brief moment of brilliant, breathless suspension, and then she was over the edge, free-falling, sobbing and jerking beneath him as an explosion of pleasure rocketed through her body, ripping her apart.

  He dragged himself up her body and in one swift motion, buried himself deep inside her.

  And it hurt.

  Her yelp of pain made him freeze. Breathing raggedly above her, his expression was almost anguished. “What’s wrong?” he panted, searching her face. “What happened?”

  Lu closed her eyes and inhaled, willing her body to relax around the huge, hot invasion of his erection. She didn’t think it would be like this. It was never like this in the books she’d read. It was always rose petals, angel choirs, rainbows, and confetti. There was never any mention of pain.

  Through gritted teeth, she said, “You’re. Big.”

  The tension didn’t leave him. He cradled her face in his hands, forcing her eyes open. “I don’t . . . I thought you were ready . . . you came . . .”

  His confusion was obvious, as was his discomfort. His cock twitched deep inside her, and Lu shivered, her fingers digging into his back.

  His eyes widened. Then he inhaled and looked down, his head tilted to one side and his brows furrowed together. When he looked back up at her it was with understanding dawning over his face. Understanding and dismay.

  “Angel. You’re bleeding,” he whispered.

  “Apparently it’s only my dream self that’s a big slut, Magnus. In this plane of reality, my hymen is—was—still intact. Stupid friggin’ thing. I should’ve ridden more horses when I was younger.”

  They stared at each other, eye to eye, raggedly breathing. All at once, they both began to laugh.

  “I don’t think that works,” he said, gasping with laughter, his head lowered to her shoulder where it rested, hot and heavy and wonderful. He pressed a kiss to her throat, and she ran her hands up his back, which made him shiver.

  “Yoga? Super-size tampons?” she giggled. His body shook with laughter. He buried his face into her neck, and Lu was so happy to finally hear him laugh. It was beautiful: rich and warm as sunshine.

  “God. This is so not how I pictured this happening,” he groaned. He propped himself up on his elbows to gaze down at her, his eyes filled with light.

  “You pictured this? Us being together like this?” Lu reached up and stroked his dark hair away from his forehead.

  Like a flipped switch, his lightness disappeared and he grew serious, intense. “Every second of every minute of every day. Always.”

  “Gee. It’s a miracle you had time for anything else, you perv,” she teased.

  His smile didn’t return. In a quiet voice, Magnus said, “There’s nothing else for me but you. There never has been. There never will be. I know that now.”

  Her throat constricted. Her face grew hot. “For me, either,” she whispered. The enormity of it hit her, and her vision wavered as her eyes filled with tears.

  Magnus made a move to withdraw, but she clutched at him, wrapping her arms around his back. “No,” she said vehemently. “Don’t. I want to feel you. I want you to . . . finish.”

  “Lumina,” he said, his voice breaking, but she shushed him with a flex of her hips.

  “Yes,” she said, listening to his groan as he sank deeper inside her. His eyes fluttered closed, his lips parted, so she flexed her hips again, loving the feeling of power that surged through her when his groan turned ragged.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said hoarsely. She pulled his head down and kissed him, cutting off his protests.

  “The only way you’ll hurt me is if you stop,” she said against his lips. She drew her thighs up on either side of his hips, ignoring the pinch as she did. The pain wasn’t so bad now that she was used to having him there. She found herself wanting to feel more, so she put her lips against his ear and asked for it.

  “Show me how to make you feel good,” she breathed. “Show me how to make you come.”

  He shuddered, digging his hands into her hair. His throat opened on a long, low moan. His hips flexed and released in a sensual, masculine motion, and Lu encouraged it by arching her back in counterpoint.

  “Yes. Like that.” His voice was strained. She kissed the strong column of his throat, opened her mouth over the throbbing vein, and sucked. He moaned again, and Lu thought she might really be getting the hang of this.

  Slowly, with infinite care, he began to slide in and out, controlling himself
with every movement, but his arms were shaking and his face was flushed. Lu, watching him, was growing more and more excited.

  “Harder,” she coaxed, and smiled when he cursed.

  In a swift, unexpected move, he rolled over, pulling her along with his arms wrapped around her so that he was flat on his back on the mattress and she was astride him, staring down at him in surprise.

  He wrapped his big, calloused hands around her hips. “Go at your own speed,” he panted. “Make yourself feel good; that’s what will make me feel good, okay? That will turn me on more than anything else. I’ll try and last as long as I can, but I can’t promise—”

  His sentence ended in a garbled low oath as Lu leaned forward, sliding the hard length of him almost all the way out of her. She sat back abruptly and took him to the hilt once again.

  “Good?” she whispered. He growled his approval and slid his hands up from her hips to caress her breasts, teasing her nipples with pinches and firm strokes. She arched into his hands, supple as a cat, watching him watch her through hot, half-lidded eyes, his expression registering devotion and desire.

  She began to rock atop him, slowly at first, faster when he drew his hand down her belly and pressed his thumb against the most sensitive part of her, rubbing small circles as she moved. Now it was her turn to moan because the feeling was exquisite, pressure and fullness and allness, her heart pounding out songs in her chest as blood surged hot through her veins.

  If her heart was singing, her soul sang louder. A song of love and possession. A song of joy.

  “Magnus,” she gasped as he plunged into her over and over, his breathing harsh, every muscle in his body flexed and beautiful. He was utterly engrossed, watching her ride him, and she’d never seen a man so sexy or virile or glorious.

  “You okay?”

  His voice was guttural, strained. She loved it. She nodded, drawing his hand up her body to caress one breast, shivering when he pinched her nipple. She drew his hand higher, and sucked on his thumb, needing something in her mouth.

  He inhaled sharply. “You’re so fucking beautiful, angel,” he whispered. “And so . . . fucking . . . tight.” A shudder wracked his body, and Lu knew he was close.

  “Let me watch you,” she said, breathless, lowering his hand to her hip where he grasped it, hard, sinking his fingers deep into her flesh. He took his other hand from between her legs and grasped her other hip, and then he shoved himself up into her so hard she gasped with both pain and pleasure. He registered it, slowing his pace. “No, please—as hard as you want. Do anything you want. I need to watch you.”

  Groaning, Magnus finally let go.

  His head tipped back into the mattress. His eyes slid shut. He pumped deeper and faster, moans working from his throat, a fine sheen of sweat glistening on his chest. His abs were all engaged, each one starkly outlined against his skin, as were the muscles in his arms and shoulders, and Lu trailed her fingers lovingly over them, a thrill moving through her as he shivered everywhere she touched. His pace increased until her breasts were bouncing and his hips were jerking rapidly. Then his hips stalled and he roared her name.

  He sat up abruptly, sinking even deeper into her with the motion, and Lu moaned as he fisted his hands into her hair and slammed his mouth against hers. He came with powerful convulsions, a spreading heat, delicious throbbing against the soreness inside her. His kiss devoured her. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight against him through all the pulsing aftershocks, not breaking the kiss, until finally the convulsions calmed to random twitches and he was gently rocking into her, his kiss gentling with the easing of his breath.

  Lu caressed his shoulders and neck, threaded her fingers into his hair. Her mouth and body felt bruised, wonderfully achy. He dropped his head to her shoulder and softly groaned her name.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She knew what he meant, but she wasn’t about to let it ruin the moment. “Say that again and I’ll shave off all your hair while you’re asleep, Seeker.”

  He lifted his head and gazed at her through heavy-lidded eyes, the corners of his lips curved. “You think you could get the drop on me, hmm?” He slid his hands down her back and squeezed her bottom, inhaling deeply against her neck. He nuzzled her there, trailing soft kisses along her jaw and down her throat, until she shivered. A little convulsion made her clench around the hot hardness of him, still buried deep inside her.

  “Oh, definitely,” she whispered, loving that little clench. She wanted another.

  He chuckled in response. Dipping his head, he drew her nipple into his mouth and sucked on it, cupping her breast in his big hand. The sensation was incredible, racing from her nipple to her clit as if an arrow had been shot between them. She moaned softly, clenching again.

  “You like that,” he murmured, moving to her other breast, his voice full of male satisfaction.

  All she could do was make a small sound of pleasure as he cupped both her breasts in his hands and lavished his tongue on each of her nipples in turn, sweeping his thumb over the one his mouth was neglecting, his touch firm, his mouth possessive. She went breathless with the sensation because he didn’t stop, sucking harder and using his teeth when she responded with gasps and low moans, pushing her breasts harder against his hands. A coil of pleasure began to wind deep in her belly, drawing all her focus to that spot, to the sparks going off inside her body.

  “Oh, yes,” whispered Magnus against her breast. “You like that a lot.”

  Involuntarily, her hips tilted, bringing his still erect cock in contact with an incredibly sensitive spot inside her. She gasped, digging her fingers into the muscles of his shoulders. “Oh. Oh.”

  Speech was becoming increasingly difficult.

  He pinched one nipple, nipping the other with his teeth, and she jerked, a cry of pleasure on her lips. The movement dragged him against that sensitive spot inside again, and Lu moaned, her head dropping back. Magnus made a sound like a purr and flexed his hips, and she moaned again, but this time it was broken.

  “Here?” he murmured, rocking slowly into her. The answering sound that came from her throat was primal, unlike anything she’d ever made before. Her entire body quaked. Her heartbeat went arrhythmic. He flexed into her gently again, and her brain blinked offline.

  “My sweet, sweet angel,” he whispered, spreading his hands over her bottom. With his hands, he coaxed her hips into gentle motion, slow, small circles that kept her in direct contact with his pelvis, and kept dragging her across and around that incredible pressure point. He lowered his mouth to her nipple again, and Lu thought she would die with pleasure.

  “Magnus,” she whimpered. Her fingers were twisted so tightly in his hair it must have hurt, but if it did he took no notice, lavishing her with all his attention, stroking her with his tongue and lips and hands, setting an exquisitely languorous tempo of slide, rock, push, slide back, rock, push again, his entire body controlling hers.

  The coil inside her wound tighter and tighter. Heat flashed over her skin and a bloom of sweat followed, her body now slick against his. She tightened her legs around his waist and her arms around his shoulders, moving faster, desperate for release, for that incredible pinnacle he was driving her toward. Writhing against him, she begged, “Please! Please!”

  A growl rumbled through his chest. He was growing harder and harder inside her. He reached up and cupped the back of her neck in his hand, bringing his lips to her ear. “Give yourself to me. Give it all to me, angel. Now.”

  It might have been that husky command that drove her over the edge, or the trigger of his own release, that throb and pulse deep inside her as he groaned and shook, but suddenly her nerves honed to a thousand shrieking exclamation points, she stopped breathing, and threw back her head on a scream of ecstasy.

  She went off like a firework. Brilliant. Violent. Loud.

  And the entire room around them—the bed
and floors and walls—exploded into flame.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  For the past ten minutes, Honor had been pacing.

  Back and forth across Morgan’s living room floor, arms folded across her chest, chewing her lip as if she planned to make a meal of it. It wasn’t as though she could eat anything, even if she tried. Her stomach was squeezed into a horrible angry knot, mimicking what was happening to her heart and most of her other organs. She was so upset she had to keep reminding herself to breathe; there had already been one minor earthquake this morning. The colony didn’t need another.

  “You’re sure that’s what she said? A few days?”

  Honor whirled around to glare at Beckett. He stood against one wall with his foot propped up against it, looking as effortlessly gorgeous as ever. Although not, at the moment, quite as smug.

  “Yes, I’m sure, Beckett! My mother was very clear; they’re going to exterminate her in a few days!”

  “But, why, pet? What’s changed? Why now?” Morgan, seated on a sofa opposite the wall where Beckett stood, was white with shock. Xander, standing beside the sofa, looked as if he was about to explode with rage. His amber eyes had turned molten, murderous gold.

  “Now,” Honor answered, her voice shaking, “the IF doesn’t need her anymore. They’ve figured out how to make the medicines without our DNA.”

  Quiet took the room. “Which also means they don’t need any of the others in the facility they’re holding her in, either,” said Xander. “I wondered how long it would take them.”

  Morgan gasped in horror, her hands lifting to cover her mouth. “No,” she whispered, eyes wide.

  “Yes. They’re going to kill them all. Soon.” Honor resumed her pacing and lip chewing.

  “Magnus and Lumina won’t let that happen. You know that.” Beckett pushed away from the wall, his expression uncharacteristically fierce, his normally clear eyes dark and stormy. He stood in a fighting stance with his legs spread shoulder width apart, chest back, hands curled to fists at his sides. Honor thought she’d never seen him look so . . . hot.