by Cynthia Eden
The Monster Doctor had been right when she told her, weeks ago, that some instincts shouldn’t, couldn’t, be suppressed.
It was time for more pleasure.
Her fingers found the front of his shirt. Jerked. Buttons popped off and flew and she growled into his kiss.
His head rose, a hard smile curving his lips. “So that’s the way you want to play?”
Then his hands were on her. Not her shirt. On the fabric of her skirt. He shoved the soft cotton up, and then his hand was on her thigh. Fingers stroking.
Her chin lifted and her breath panted out a bit faster. Higher. Just a few more inches, and he’d touch her just where she wanted him to—
His fingers trailed over the crotch of her black lace panties. He licked his lips. “You’re wet.”
Because she was so turned on that her body was about to explode. The sexual tension between them was so thick she could see it in the air and the powerful rush from that need was driving her wild.
So much wonderful energy.
His fingers curled around her underwear. Gripped. Yanked.
The fabric gave way with a soft rustle. Then his hand was on her sex. Parting her folds. Fingers sliding into the creamy warmth.
Her skirt was bunched at her waist. Her high heels pressed hard into the floor. Her breasts, aching, swollen, pushed against the cups of her bra.
And she was about thirty seconds away from her first release with the good detective.
The very good detective.
His thumb caressed the hard button of her need and he drove a finger, broad and long, into her core.
Her lips parted on a moan, but he caught the sound with his mouth, drinking it in and then thrusting his tongue deeply past her lips ... just as he thrust his finger into her body.
One finger.
Another.
The man had big hands—long fingers, strong.
So good.
A slow thrust. Withdrawal. The swipe of his thumb against her clit. A thrust, harder, knuckles deep—
The release hit her. A fast, hard pop of pleasure that didn’t satisfy. Oh, no, not even close. It just made her hungrier.
Her sex clenched around his fingers.
Oh, but this was going to be fun.
Cara brought her hands between them. Pushed against his chest.
His lips tore from hers. He gazed down at her, cheeks stained with color, lust on his face. Then he blinked, shook his head. “Cara, you look ... different. So fucking beautiful, but—”
Shit.
The sensual energy was literally absorbing into her skin. The faint shine of the magic would be noticeable to him this close.
But not as noticeable if the lights were off.
She broke free of him, hating the loss of those clever fingers. Moving fast, she hit the lights and plunged the room into darkness.
He swore.
Stepping forward, she grabbed his hand. “Come with me.”
A rusty laugh slipped past his lips. “Right now, I think I’d follow you to hell.”
She stumbled at that. Had to choke back her instinctive protest. Finally managed to whisper, “The bedroom will be far enough for me.”
He was giving her too much, too soon, and she was so greedy that if he didn’t hold back more, she just might try to take everything.
They were at the foot of the stairs. Her porch light shone through the picture window, casting just enough illumination over the steps for them to see and move easily.
The rooms at the top of the landing were in darkness. Perfect. They hurried up the stairs.
His hand was warm against hers. The door to her bedroom stood partially open. With her left hand, she shoved against the wood, and it opened fully with a soft creak.
She stepped forward, heading for the brass bed she loved.
He didn’t move.
“Todd?”
Her vision was sharper than a human’s. Even in the dark, she could make out his form. See the tension he held in check.
“Why do I want you so much?” He asked. “I swear, I can’t even breathe right now without tasting you.” He moved a few inches forward, and the moonlight spilling through her bedroom window fell over his face.
Her pheromones filled the air. No way to control them now.
But she could smell his scent, too. The warm, rich scent of man. With every breath that she drew, she inhaled him.
And she could taste him on her tongue.
“You feel it, too, don’t you?” He asked, and there was a demand in his voice.
It. The need. The lust that was almost overwhelming. Hell, yes, she felt it, too.
“I’m safe, Cara. I need you to know that. I use protection, always use it.”
Good to know. She was immune to human diseases, but he wouldn’t understand that if she told him. And it was honorable that he wanted to tell her of his health.
A gentleman.
It made her want him even more.
She tugged against his hold.
“Cara?” He released her.
Her fingers immediately went to the waist of his jeans. Found the buckle of his belt. She unhooked it, then she began to work on the snap of the jeans.
“Don’t.” An order.
She tilted her head back. “It’s gonna be pretty hard for this to work with your pants still on there, stud.”
A surprised bark of laughter rumbled from his throat and Cara’s own lips curved.
Damn. How long has it been since I even felt like smiling with a man?
“Ah, baby, don’t worry. The jeans will definitely be coming off.” His fingertips trailed over her arms. “But I’d rather get you naked first.”
She liked her plan better, but . . . Cara’s fingers rose, began to lift up the hem of her shirt. She tossed it onto the floor. Unfastened the front clasp of her black bra.
Humans and their inventions. Sometimes they could be damn clever and sexy.
Her breasts sprang free. The nipples were tight with arousal. She wanted his hands on them. His mouth. But first—
With a swift move of her fingers, she shoved her skirt down her legs. It pooled around her ankles and she stepped out of the trapping fabric. She kicked her shoes across the room. “Better?”
He growled.
She took that as a yes.
“Your turn.” Then her hands were on him. Unsnapping those jeans. Sliding down the zipper. Discovering a pair of boxers beneath the rough fabric of the jeans.
Then finding his cock. Aroused. Long. Wider than her wrist. Warm to the touch and pulsating with desire. She stroked him, a long caress from root to tip, and heard with pleasure the sound of his ragged breath.
“Don’t tease, Cara.” An order given with glittering eyes.
“I’m not.” She stepped back. Moved to the edge of her bed and felt the mattress against the back of her thighs. Her hands were literally itching to touch him. To give pleasure. To take pleasure.
And power.
Just a touch. So simple. So gentle.
A touch could bring paradise or pain. Such was the way of her kind.
Lucky for Todd, she wasn’t too much into the pain. Never had been.
“Tell me, Detective,” she used the title deliberately, “just what do you like? A woman in control? Or do you like to keep the power?”
He swore softly. Shed his remaining clothes with an economy of motion. “I don’t care much for games,” he muttered, and she saw him reach into the back pocket of his jeans. He pulled out his wallet, reached inside for something. Probably protection. After a moment, he stalked toward her and tossed a small packet onto the bed. “I just care about getting you under me in, oh, the next five seconds.”
Her lips parted to reply—
But he had her pinned to the bed, legs spread, arms anchored to the soft mattress above her head in, oh, three seconds.
The man might not like games, but he sure liked being in command.
The ridge of his arousal prodded against her sex. T
odd was more than ready. So was she. He could thrust deep and hard into her right then and she wouldn’t—
“I’ve dreamed about you.”
Dreams he shouldn’t have remembered.
“I want to know if your breasts feel as good against my tongue, in reality, as they do when I’m dreaming.” Keeping his hold on her wrists, he lowered his head, the faint stubble of his five o’clock shadow scraping across her flesh in an electric caress that made her gasp.
His lips closed over her left nipple. His mouth was warm, wet, and his tongue, as it curved around her areola, so damn skilled.
Todd Brooks certainly wasn’t an amateur when it came to pleasures of the flesh.
Good. Neither was she.
A moan filled the air. Her moan. She lifted her hips, rubbing against him and loving the friction of his body against hers.
His mouth opened wider and he began to suckle her. Strong. Hard.
“Todd!”
His head lifted. “You taste the same ... just like my dreams.” He turned his attention to her other breast.
Oh, damn. Sensual energy filled her body. She pulled her arms down, easily breaking his hold. “I can show you . . . ah, that’s good . . . a reality that’s a hell of a lot better than any dream.”
His mouth moved to her stomach. Began to kiss a heated path over her flesh. “You seem like a dream. A beautiful, fucking dream that I have no business having.”
Underlying his words, there was a hint of anger that puzzled her. But then she felt the stir of his breath on the curls that shielded her sex and she forgot about the anger. His hands caught her thighs as he shifted his body. He pushed her legs farther apart, spreading her even more.
“I never got this far in my dreams.”
A damn shame to her way of thinking. She would have enjoyed the hell out of this particular act. Damn phone call.
“Before I take you tonight, I’ve just got to taste you, right here.” He parted her folds. Pressed his lips against the throbbing center of her need.
Then she felt the warm, wet lap of his tongue. Swirling around her entrance. Oh, damn, but that was great. Great.
His tongue drove deep inside her.
Her hands clamped in his hair, held him close, just where she wanted him.
His fingers were working her sex now. Plucking. Teasing. Rolling her clit between his thumb and index finger. And Todd kept using that wonderful tongue to lick her—then to drive deep into her sex.
Not just great. Damn fabulous. She was going to come again. A hard, blast of release that would send power rocking through her. She was going to—
He pulled away from her. The moonlight spilled onto his face. Cara saw the need. The fierce desire. “When you come this time,” he gritted, “I’ll be buried as deep in you as I can get.”
Sounded like a fine plan to her.
His right hand reached for the foil packet. He ripped it open with his teeth. Rolled the latex up the length of his cock.
He pushed his aroused flesh between her legs. The head of his erection prodded her straining entrance, just slipping inside her sex.
Her lips curved into a full smile as she gazed up at him. This was what she’d thought of giving up? She must have been absolutely crazy. Or really, really desperate.
Todd worked his cock inside of her—slowly. One inch at a time. There was sweat on his brow, glistening on his body. He was trying to stay in control. Not wanting to hurt her.
Sweet, silly human.
As if he could ever hurt her.
Besides, she’d always liked it a bit rough. Not pain, of course, she didn’t really like that, but rather hard pleasure.
Cara twisted her body, rolling suddenly and taking them near the edge of the bed. When their bodies halted, she was on top of him, knees on either side of his hips, and his cock was buried fully inside her.
“That’s better,” she whispered, and she began to move. She lifted her body up, then drove down. His hands clamped on her hips, fighting her for control of the tempo and depth.
Her sex was tight and swollen from her previous climax, but she was more than ready for him, and he filled her so wonderfully well that every move had her body tightening with delight around him.
The thrusts became increasingly harder. She moved faster and faster. His fingers bit into her waist. The power in the room beat at her, at them, the waves so strong that a faint hum filled the room.
The release was close. A spark of electricity shot through her body. Blue sparks flickered in the air around them.
Todd’s eyes had squeezed shut, so he missed the burst of light. He never stopped thrusting. And she never stopped taking him.
So much energy. Hers for the taking.
Just as he was.
His eyes opened as he pushed up, caught her breast in his mouth and lashed the nipple with his tongue.
“Todd!” Her delicate inner muscles clamped tight around him and the climax that had been just out of her reach flew toward her.
Her right hand slammed down on his chest, driving him back against the bed. The power would come now, come crashing over them both.
She probably should have warned the guy before. She should have—
“Ah!” The scream was hers. Exultant.
He bucked beneath her, roared his release and the driving power of his lust pounded powerfully in the heart that drummed just below her hand.
The sensual power broke free. As they climaxed, as the pleasure lashed their bodies, the feelings magnified. They shuddered, gasped.
Cara threw back her head, wild with the rush, but her hand never left his chest. Her body stayed joined to his, and as the magical waves shook her, her head dropped over his.
Her lips found his. Carefully, she breathed her magic into him. Shared the power.
She’d never given any of her sensual power to another before.
But she didn’t want to just take from him.
He wasn’t like the others.
His heartbeat, already too fast, began a mad, driving beat.
Her tongue stroked past the entrance of his mouth. Found his. She kissed him until the powerful rush of magic and climax began to ease.
Then she lifted her head and forced herself to meet the gaze that she knew would hold a thousand questions.
Because Todd had to have just realized that sex with her was far, far from normal.
His chest ached, and a goddess rose above him.
Her small hand slowly lifted, and his heart finally began to slow down.
Jesus. He’d just had the best fucking climax of his life, hands down. For a second there, he’d actually been afraid that he might pass out. A damn embarrassing admission for him.
But in between the pleasure that had made his back bow off the bed and his toes tingle, something else had happened.
When she’d placed her hand over his heart, for a moment, it had felt like she was branding him. And he’d felt ... her.
Her hunger. Her need. The feelings had been heady. His body had trembled with an unknown power.
A power he couldn’t wait to feel again.
Damn, but he felt fucking good. Like he’d slept for twenty hours good.
Like he’d had the best orgasm ever good. One that had been far, far from normal ... because he’d felt her release, too.
And that shouldn’t have been possible. How the hell had it been possible?
“I-I don’t want to talk now.”
Her voice dripped honey and sex. Still within her depths, his cock began to stir again.
His arms skated down her spine. He needed to touch her.
Everywhere.
Was her skin glowing? The pale flesh seemed strangely luminous in the dark, and her skin sure felt warm to the touch. But a human’s skin didn’t glow like it was lit by a fire from within.
I’m not even human, lover. The words from his dream whispered through his mind.
No, no, that—
“We can talk in the morning. I’ll explain
everything to you—tomorrow. If you . . . want to know about me.”
Oh, yeah, he did. He wanted to know everything.
But not at that moment. He shoved the doubts and questions aside. For that night, they were just going to be a man and a woman. Two people who wanted each other very, very badly.
Dawn could bring out the truth.
For now . . .
Reluctantly, he lifted her body off his hips—and it was so easy. Like the woman was as light as a feather.
He was so ready to go another round.
“Don’t leave.”
What? Did he look like a moron? “I’ve gotta clean up.” Find another condom. “Then I’m coming back to bed.” He reached out a hand. Traced the line of her nipple. “Because I’m not even close to being done with you.” Would the next climax be as strong? Would he actually feel the power of her release again?
It was almost like he’d touched her soul.
He’d never been so close to another person. He knew that he should be scared, or at least a little alarmed, but—
He wasn’t. At least, not yet.
Though for a minute there, when her hand had pressed against his chest, he’d had an uncomfortable flash of poor Michael House.
He’d been too far gone to stop then, but apprehension had risen in the back of his mind, for just a moment.
Fucking ridiculous.
Cara wasn’t a killer. Her alibis had checked out. She was the best sex he’d ever had—the perfect lover—and he was a damn lucky man.
“Hurry back,” Cara whispered, and the husky sound of her voice made his cock twitch. He saw the white flash of her teeth as she smiled.
“Because I want you inside me again,” she said.
That was sure as hell where he wanted to be.
Yeah, dawn could bring reality. For now, he’d take his goddess and the dreams she offered to him.
The killer returned to the scene of the Dayton murder.
Going there was stupid—no denying it, but there really hadn’t been a choice for him. The compulsion to go to the scene had been too strong to resist.
A line of yellow police tape marked off the room. The door was closed. Sealed shut. The same garish plastic tape crisscrossed the windows.
He gave a moment’s thought to breaking into the hotel room, but decided the risk just wasn’t worth it. The body was long gone, so there really wasn’t a point to forcing—