Drawing Deep

by Jennifer Dellerman

  “That’s how Ria figured out how to open the door to the tunnel,” Santos nodded at the uncovered portrait of Cort Fylin, but when his eyes settled on hers with a gleam of heat, she knew he was recalling what happened between them directly after seeing the painting. When his gaze flicked to the sheet-covered couch and back to hers, she felt her cheeks flush and she looked away.

  “I don’t understand.” Porter frowned at the large canvas. “What was the clue?”

  “The letters on the cane.” Ria informed him, sidling up next to Santos and the others standing in front of the portrait.

  “The initials?” Rome asked.

  Ria shook her head. “They’re not initials, they’re...”

  “Roman numerals.” Lance finished for her with a grin. “Nice job, Ree.”

  Beside her, Santos bristled. “Ree?”

  “Down boy,” Ria admonished under her breath, laying a calming hand on his arm.

  Unperturbed at the scowl on Santos’s face, Lance shrugged. “It’s just a nickname.”

  “Fabulous.” Gwen muttered. “I’m Wren and you’re Ree. Together we sound like a demented duo.”

  “Sounds more like someone watched too much Scooby-doo as a child.” Rome pointed out, flashing his teeth.

  “Rut-ro,” Lance said. “You wound me out.”

  “Come on, Wance. Let’s see if we can find a Scooby snack.” Porter winked, obviously tickled at the by-play.

  “Oh, Good Lord,” Gwen groaned in exasperation laced with affection. “Our men have reverted back to their childhood.” She picked up a green and red box and headed for the exit. “We’d better go, Ria. It might be catching.”

  Copying Gwen’s actions, Ria glanced back in time to see Santos looking at her butt rather than throw himself into the male mix of boyhood bonding. She sucked in a breath when he lifted those glittering eyes, the intensity on the rugged planes of his gorgeous face unmuted by his surroundings. Her nipples tightened into painful points and the low embers of arousal ignited liquid and hot between her thighs. She saw his nostrils flare, and as his lips curled in a wicked smile, she fled the room.

  * * * *

  In short order the first floor of the house was transformed. It reminded Ria of a magazine article she’d once skimmed over on the best interior decorated Christmas homes. Cheerful stockings hung from the fireplace mantle, on top of which rested a swath of garland and various holiday themed knick-knacks. The stair railing was twined with more garland that boasted little gold bells. The scents in the rooms altered as current candles were replaced with ones that smelled of pine, cranberry and sugar cookies. Faux poinsettia plants in a variety of sizes and colors were placed throughout the house, their large leaves giving the most mundane of corners a holiday pick-me-up.

  In the dining room, Ria helped Santos hang oversized tree ornaments from the ceiling. They were large, fun, and yet someone tasteful in understated colors of burgundy, green, and silver. As she stood back to see their handiwork, she found herself smiling at the display. Intermixed with the ornaments were strands of white snowflakes that took on a whole new dimension when Santos suddenly flipped off the light switch.

  They glowed. She wanted to laugh as the strands shimmered and swayed. Glow-in-the-dark snowflakes. Who knew?

  “What makes them move?” She whispered to Santos as he drew near, not wanting to dispel the moment of its whimsical magic.

  “Air vents. Soft breeze whenever anyone walks by.” Santos moved behind her and slid his arms around her waist, one hand splayed low over her belly, pressing her back against the hard length of his erection. It made her toes curl.

  Burying his face in her neck, he inhaled. “You’ll come to me.” His voice was wicked silk. “I want you in my home.” The rough and wet glide of his tongue sent a shiver down her spine. “In my bed.”

  She drew in her own ragged breath. “Yes.” A solemn promise. “After everyone’s gone to bed.” To ward of any protest, she folded her hands over his, adding, “Otherwise it’ll be awkward.”

  He rested his chin on her head. “You think no one knows we’ve become lovers?”

  Ria closed her eyes at his quietly amused question. Yeah, it was probably impossible to hide much from beings with heightened senses, but Ria was used to a certain amount of privacy, and adjusting to all the noise and affectionate prying would take quite a bit to get used to.

  Get used to? Where did that come from? It wasn’t like she had plans to stay. She had a deadline, needed to finish up her work here and get back home.

  Home to what? Your father is looking for you. You know longer have a home in New Mexico. But you could have a home here. With Santos. Your mate.

  The sly voice was tempting, achingly so. She tightened her grip on his arms, turning her head so it leaned against his strong jaw. Breathed him in. Beyond the sexual need was an underlying sense of safety. Security.

  Belonging.

  She licked her dry lips. “That may be, but there’s no need to be blatant about it.”

  His mouth touched her temple. “There’s every need to be blatant about it, however, this time, we’ll play it your way.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Edgy with need as she was, Ria flinched when Santos flung open the door before she could knock. He stood in the entry of his home, radiating so much masculine virility she lost the power of speech. His hair was loose, falling in a luxuriant stream down his back. A dark brown sweater, the same color as his eyes, molded over his sleekly muscled chest. Bare feet peeked out from under black jeans that hugged his thighs, straining unashamedly over the thick ridge of his erection.

  Her belly clenched at the bulging outline of his desire, which in turn kicked her own hunger into higher gear. She fisted her hands at her side so they wouldn’t move of their own volition and molest his gorgeous body. A momentary difficulty as, without a word, he snagged her arm and drew her in his house, only to push her back against the door after he closed it. Not giving any quarter, he moved in, placing both forearms on the door on either side of her head.

  “You can’t do that,” he set his mouth at her ear, his body a hard haven that made her ache in all the right places.

  “Do what?” She murmured, melting into his luscious heat.

  He bent his head, laid open-mouthed kisses along the smooth patch of skin where her pulse jumped with erratic frequency. “Look at me like you want to eat me alive.”

  She purred at the enticing image. “I do.”

  Groaning, he nipped at her sensitive flesh. “God Ria, you’re killing me.” Then he took her mouth in a hard, passionate kiss, the deep penetration of his tongue a silent promise of sinful delights. Feeling a sense of urgency that bordered on frenzy, she twined her arms around his neck, her hands tunneling into his thick mane, and hung on for the ride.

  He wedged a thigh between her own as the kiss deepened, his cock hard against her swollen center. In a flash she was right at the edge of insanity, her need to have him inside her, filling the aching emptiness, a raging hunger that made her whimper and clutch his head in desperation.

  “You make me so fucking hard I can’t even think.” Santos breathed out, trailing his hands down her torso to slip under her top. Taking a moment to savor and caress the silky skin of her stomach, he slid his hands up to fill them with the weight of her breasts before circling the puckered nipples with his thumbs through her bra.

  “Oh God,” Ria gasped as electrical currents arrowed from her breasts straight to her clit, causing an almost painful throb between her legs.

  One sneaky hand shimmered down her waist and hip before unsnapping her pants. The sound of her zipper being lowered made her belly quiver in anticipation, her eyes glazing over when he cupped her mound.

  Santos bit her bottom lip lightly when he found her panties soaked. “Damn, kitten,” he whispered almost reverently. “You’re so wet for me. So soft.” He crooned as his fingers stroked the damp material, making her moan and arch into his touch. “Take off your shoes.”
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br />   She toed off the canvas flats in a heartbeat, her breath coming in great ragged gulps when he quickly rid her of her pants and underwear. Naked from the waist down, she watched Santos through heavy lids as he rested on his knees in front of her, his thumbs parting her soft folds for his delectation. He inhaled deep.

  “Beautiful.” His voice was strained, as if he was starved for her. “I need to taste you.” It was all the warning she had before he swooped in and laid his mouth on her. At the first intimate swipe of his tongue along the delicate folds, her head hit the door, pleasure swamping her and threatening to buckle her knees.

  He threw an arm across her belly, bracing her between his sensual assault and the door. “Spread your legs for me.” When she complied, he made an approving sound and went back to work, slicking his tongue from her glistening opening to her throbbing clit. He licked every crevice, sampled every glistening fold, creating a wild firestorm inside her that scorched her blood and short-circuited her brain.

  Two fingers thrust into her wet sheath, his tongue flicking over the tight knot of nerves in a fast vibration that had her twitching and pressing into him, a silent demand to ease the savage tension coiling in her gut.

  When he curled his tongue over her aching clit she spasmed, jerking her hips as the jagged edges of hunger took over. So close, she was so close to falling off that cliff that when Santos moved back, her body followed blindly, seeking a release from the exquisite torture he’d inflicted.

  His rose, stripping her of her shirt and bra before capturing her mouth in a demanding kiss. “I need to be inside you.” A hoarse demand. His clothes vanished in seconds. “Feel you hot and wet around me.” His cock sprung free and after hastily donning a condom, he skimmed through her juices, coating his heavy length with her arousal.

  “Yes,” she lifted one leg to snake around his thigh, then hopped up when he lifted her and wrapped both legs around him. She was pinned between him and the door, open and desperate for that first thrust. “Now, Santos.” She wiggled helplessly against him.

  He cupped her face, focusing her languid eyes into his own. “Look at me. See me.”

  An unmistakable order from a dominate male that would not be denied. Though his own body was shaking, he didn’t slip past the grasping ring of nerves until she had obeyed. With a thrust of his hips, he penetrated deep, rocking against and in her until he was buried to the hilt. He let out a low growl and banded one arm around her waist, the other gripped the back of her head. He captured her mouth and rocked his groin against her own, driving his cock over delicate tissue that clamped around him like a vise. Every plunge stretched her, burning her with pleasure. Each retreat had her inner muscles contracting, trying to hold him inside.

  The hard door at her back was replaced by something soft, and she realized Santos had laid them on the carpet. Then he flipped her onto her stomach, grasping her hips to raise her on her hands and knees. Wedging his legs between hers, he thrust back in, making her gasp in erotic delight at the feel of his penetration. He shifted over her, covering her, his larger body surrounding her, his hands on hers, entwining their fingers.

  “You know what I am.” His words were thick in her ears, his teeth scrapping over the tender flesh of her neck. When she didn’t respond, he nipped her, sending a liquid rush of excitement to soak his cock. “Say it.”

  His hips flexed hard against hers, thrusting deep. She pushed back against him, taking him as hard as he was taking her, and glorying in it. “Jaguar.”

  “Yes.” A soft hiss. “And you’re mine, Ria.”

  His possessive words should have doused her desire, having sworn to never allow another man consider her naught but his property. Instead, she felt herself respond in another melting flow of heightened awareness. Her fangs elongated with a gnawing need to sink past his skin and claim his blood as her own. Taken aback at the burst of pleasure and proprietary desire, she shook her head in denial. “No.”

  “Yes, and you know it. You’ll only crave me like I only crave you.” A dark vow that blasted through her defenses. “You’re my mate. Mine.” His hands went to grip her hips in an unbreakable hold as he began a hard and fast rhythm. Flesh slapped against flesh as he plunged deep into her wet and clenching heat over and over, her body swaying in helpless ecstasy as she shuddered, feeling her orgasm build.

  “Just as I’m yours.” Before those words fully penetrated the sexual fog, he was covering her again, his mouth open at her neck. When she felt the sharp points of his fangs press into her flesh, she threw her head back, screaming as pain and pleasure collided in a massive wave of uncontrollable rapture and she broke, coming in hard, racking pulses that stripped her bare.

  Santos snarled and thrust once more before his whole body arched back and his own orgasm took him over the edge. Body shaking in the aftermath, Ria would have dropped face first onto the carpet if Santos hadn’t shifted them to their sides, spoon fashion. His breath was hot and unsteady on her temple as he kissed her head, the deep rumbling of contentment in his chest now a familiar sensation.

  “I won’t tether you, kitten, but I wont let you go.” His hands brushed the hair from her face, his fingers tracing over the mark he’d made with his teeth. It tingled under his touch.

  It was a branding, a visual sign of his claim of ownership and she wasn’t at all sure how she felt about it, not to mention his feral decree that she belonged to him. Feminine instinct demanded she rebel at the possessive command. At the same time, a warm glow encompassed her heart from his declaration that he belonged to her as well.

  Everything was so tangled up inside that she just didn’t know what to do, or think for that matter. So she remained silent, listening as his heartbeat slowed and savor the feel of him cuddled up behind her.

  Purring.

  “I’ve waited my whole life for you, and just as I trust you with my deepest secret, hell, my entire family’s secret, you can trust me, us, with anything.” Another pass of his hand through her hair, gentling her, breaking her down until all she wanted was to have him take care of her. “Nothing will change how I feel about you.”

  She swallowed at the temptation. He’d already guessed at some of it, so spilling about her otherness wouldn’t alter their relationship. But she wouldn’t go any further, because she really did want to belong. To this family, to this place, and to this man. “I’m half vampire.”

  Her chest ached and it was only then she realized she’d been holding her breath, waiting for a rejection that never came. In fact, he didn’t say a word. “You’re not saying anything.”

  “Figured it out, especially after you came back from the airport.” A tight squeeze. “Wanted you to know it didn’t matter.”

  Her mouth turned down in confusion. “Wanted me to know it didn’t matter?”

  “You really think I couldn’t hear you sneaking up to the kitchen, scent you from a mile away?”

  She choked on her spit. “You knew I was eavesdropping?”

  “Of course.”

  And here she thought she’d gotten away with it. How disgusting.

  One finger trailed along the bare skin of her arm. “Only half?”

  She blew out a breath before replying. “My mother was a vampire. My father was...not.”

  He’d caught the slight hesitation. “And what was your father?”

  This was the tricky part. “He was a quarter mage.”

  Teeth grazed her shoulder. “So you are a witch.” Soft humor filled his tone.

  It calmed her. She was lying butt naked on the floor of a dim room in a house she had yet to travel more than ten feet in, but between the mind-numbing orgasm, the velvet steel of Santos’s arms around her and his easy acceptance, she felt herself relax into a sleepy stupor. “I don’t have any special abilities.”

  A sharp nip on her ear. “Never say that. You have a stellar brain, unwavering determination, killer body, beautiful face, and a heart of gold. You’re also my mate. Everything about you is special.”

  Di
dn’t that just make her want to melt into a pile of gooing goodness? Well he was in for a shock. “My mother is dead. I never knew her. My father and great-grandfather raised me and my sister. Neither are nice men, Santos. They considered us as nothing more than property. My childhood was not nice. I’m not nice. And you know nothing about my heart.”

  He placed his hand on her chest between her breasts, right over her heart. “I know more than you realize.”

  No, he really couldn’t. “I doubt that.”

  “Oh? How about the fact you were more concerned about my welfare than your own when you thought the tunnel was a lava vent.”

  She shrugged that off. “I couldn’t have you passing out on me. You’re too heavy to carry.”

  A soft chuckle followed by an equally soft kiss on her shoulder. “All right. How about when you wanted to race to Panama when you heard Lance was hurt. And then how you fussed over him when he returned?”

  “I did no more fussing, as you call it, then your own mother did.” The protest was a mild one, his unwavering insistence settling into the barren areas of her heart. She had to make a choice, and she found she no longer wanted to be ruled by the haunts of her past.

  He nuzzled her ear. “As my mother has the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever come across, I rest my case.”

  A hard hug. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

  She watched him walk toward a hallway and disappear, and suddenly felt more vulnerable than she’d ever had in her life. Not because she was still butt-ass naked and laying on a lushly thick carpet she could easily pass out on, but because of his words. His persistent conviction fractured the ice around her heart. It melted and reformed into tears that invaded her eyes, causing her to blink in surprise.

  She heard a toilet flush and sat up, reaching for her clothes.