Touch of Surrender

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Touch of Surrender Page 27

by Rhyannon Byrd


  And then, exactly forty-eight hours from the time that he’d bitten her, she finally opened her eyes.

  Kierland was lying on his side, with Morgan’s head cradled in the crook of his left arm, murmuring to her while he stroked his fingers along the delicate arc of her cheek. And the next thing he knew, she was staring right back at him, her beautiful gaze locked with his.

  “Thirsty,” she groaned, and then she shocked the hell out of him by nuzzling into the curve of his shoulder…and biting his throat. She sank her fangs deep, pulling on his vein, and the scalding burn of pleasure nearly turned him inside out. His fingers curved around the back of her skull, holding her against him, and he went rock hard, the need to get inside her so intense, he thought he might actually die if it didn’t happen.

  But first, they needed to talk. And Christ, he needed to make sure that she was okay. That she wasn’t in any pain.

  She drank deeply for almost a minute, each evocative pull against his vein making him shiver and gasp, the pleasure an exquisite blend of erotic sensations. And then she made a low sound, and pulled away, the back of her hand pressed to her rosy mouth as she stared up at him through huge, startled eyes. “Why did I just do that?” she whispered, the quiet words hoarse with embarrassment.

  “I’m not sure, sweetheart.” A grin twitched at the corner of the Lycan’s mouth, and he was too bloody happy to hold it back. “But I’m not complaining.”

  She blinked, a delicate flush burning across the bridge of her nose. “I just took your vein, Kier, as if I had every right to it!”

  “I know,” he rumbled, and it was impossible to disguise the rich satisfaction in his tone. Lifting his hand, he pushed a few silken strands of hair from her face, then ran his thumb over the worried grooves that had settled between her brows. “What do you remember, honey?”

  “Not much,” she whispered, her gaze growing distant as she sank into her memories. “I know I left the cabin to go after you. I was worried you were going to get hurt. Then I remember smelling the Death-Walkers, and…” She blinked again, and a little shudder ran through her body. “They bit me, didn’t they?” she asked, staring deep into his eyes.

  “Yeah, and it was pretty bad. But Ashe and Juliana Sabin got you back to the cabin, then Ashe came after me.” Taking hold of her hand, he pressed the tips of her fingers against the side of her throat, where a faint bruise from his bite still lingered, the skin there burning hot to the touch, and her eyes went round as he said, “You were in rough shape, until I made this bite right here.”

  “You…marked me?”

  Kierland nodded, watching as she studied the proud, possessive look on his face, and her mouth began to tremble. “Oh, God,” she gasped. “How could you?”

  He went perfectly still, his voice a little tight as he said, “That wasn’t exactly the reaction I was hoping for. I thought…” He paused, choosing his words with care. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

  Tears glistened in her eyes, the shimmering wash of liquid making his stomach cramp with dread, until she admitted, “Of course it’s what I wanted. I’m in love with you! But…was it what you wanted? Or did you just do it to keep me alive? Because I’d have rather you let me die than be bound to me when you don’t…when you’re not in—”

  “Morgan, honey, just shush and listen to me for a moment,” Kierland said with a tender smile, pressing his mouth to her petal-soft lips. He pushed his fingers into her hair, shaping his hands around her skull, and pulled back just far enough that he could hold her gaze. “I didn’t bite you just to keep you alive. I did it because I can’t live without you. Because I don’t want to wake up one single day without your body next to mine. Because I want to grow old with you, and build a life with you. Once this bloody war is over, I want to take you someplace and keep you there for days, weeks, until we’ve made a miracle and our baby is growing right here,” he told her in a husky voice, lowering his right hand so that he could rub her belly with the flat of his palm.

  “Am I dreaming?” she whispered, clutching onto his shoulders, and then her eyes went comically wide. “Oh God, I didn’t die, did I? That would be so typical! Get everything I’ve ever wanted, then find out that I’ve croaked…and none of it’s real.”

  “You’re not dreaming.” A crooked smile touched his mouth, and he kissed her again, saying, “You’re very much alive, sweetheart. And you’re also very, very loved.”

  “I am?” she murmured against his lips.

  “You are,” he rumbled, pulling back to see her face. “And you’re also a beautiful little liar.”

  “Oh.” Pulling her lower lip through her teeth, she asked, “Which one did you find out about?”

  Holding her close, Kierland told her about the talk he’d had with Ashe, explaining how the vamp had told him the truth about their past relationship, as well as the horrific attack she’d suffered at the hands of the rogue vampires. Then he explained how they’d come to be at the Sabin compound, recounting the events from Thursday evening, and his voice shook as he said, “After I left Kell and started making my way back to you, it scared the hell out of me, thinking that I might have lost you because I’ve been such a jackass. That I might have to go through life without you. It’s…That’s something I can’t do.”

  “And your father?” she asked, pushing his hair back from his brow. “That doesn’t worry you anymore?”

  He took a deep breath, and quietly explained, “I’m jealous of everything where you’re concerned. Of every man who looks at you. Of the air that you breathe. The clothes that touch your body. But the difference is that I love you, Morgan. And that love is more powerful than anything else. I would never hurt you or betray you.”

  Her eyes went hazy with memory, and she whispered, “I remember something from Thursday, after the attack. I could hear you arguing. You tried to get Ashe to bite me.”

  “Because I thought you still loved him. That he was the one you really wanted.” He swallowed, working to push the words past the knot in his throat. “And that’s all that mattered to me. That you lived and were happy. If being with Ashe would have done it, then I would have gotten down on my knees and begged him to do it. But he…he said that you weren’t in love with him.”

  “He’s right.” Soft, husky words that made heat crawl up his chest. “I’m not, because I’m in love with you.”

  “Yeah, he said that, too.” Cupping the side of her face in his palm, Kierland caught the glistening drop of a tear with his thumb, and there was a rough note of urgency in his voice as he said, “Don’t join The Guard. Come home with me. Work with me. Live with me. Put me out of my misery and make me whole, Morgan. Do that, and I swear I’ll worship you in every way that there is, until the end of time. You’ll be a queen. My queen. I’ll—”

  “I couldn’t care less about being a queen,” she murmured, cutting him off, a provocative gleam sparkling in her eyes. “I just want to be yours, Kier.”

  “You always have been,” he groaned, running his hand down the graceful curve of her spine, until he was cupping her bottom, pulling her against the burgeoning ache of his erection, his cock getting harder, thicker, by the second. “I was just too terrified to admit it.”

  “And now?” she gasped, arching against him.

  “Now the only thing that scares me is losing you.”

  “And what about Ashe?” she asked, sounding worried. “Because he’ll always be my friend. I can’t…I couldn’t ever just turn my back on him.”

  “I wouldn’t expect you to,” he rasped, his hand slipping along the back of her thigh, to her knee, and he hitched her leg over his hip, thrusting against her. “And I trust you, Morgan. Nothing can change the way I feel about you.”

  “And the panic attacks? Because, well, I could be a liability,” she explained unsteadily. “I’m still…broken, and I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to not…to control the panic. It makes me weak.”

  “Like hell it does,” he growled, hating that she felt that w
ay about herself. “I don’t know of any other man or woman who could have survived what you did and still gone on to be a Watchman and a helluva soldier. You’re a miracle, Morgan, and I’m so damned proud of you.”

  “You are?” She blinked, looking…shocked. “You always said, back at the academy, that you couldn’t stand any kind of weakness.”

  Kierland winced. “God, I was just being a cocky jackass, spouting the same bullshit I’d grown up hearing at home. But the truth is that it’s our weaknesses that make us whole, that make us complete, and even the toughest son of a bitch has them.”

  With a wry smile, she said, “You don’t.”

  “Do, too,” he argued, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m holding my weakness in my arms, angel. The fear of anything ever happening to you… Christ, it drives me insane just to think about it. And I still don’t understand how you could have put yourself at risk the way you did with those rogues.”

  She lifted her hand to his face, lightly stroking the shape of his brows as she said, “It was an easy choice, really, because I knew you were going to get yourself killed if we didn’t do something. And I couldn’t let that happen.”

  “Just promise that you’ll never put yourself at risk like that again,” he muttered, pressing his lips to her forehead, “because I would die if I lost you.”

  “THEN WE HAD BETTER MAKE sure you did it right,” Morgan whispered, her heart so full of love, she didn’t know how she kept it all inside. “You know, the whole claiming thing. Just to make sure.”

  His eyes gleamed with predatory fire as he twisted his hand in the soft hair at her nape and pulled her head back. “You wear my mark, Morgan.” His voice was a dark, intoxicating rumble of sound. “Trust me, angel. I did it right.”

  “But we’d better make sure,” she said huskily, completely dazzled by the smoldering look of love-drenched lust on his face.

  “You’re still healing!” he growled, his color rising, as if he were burning with fever. “Christ, don’t tempt me.”

  Nipping his chin, Morgan reached down and popped open the top button on his jeans. “If you don’t get inside me, Kier, I’m going to get rough with you.”

  “Damn it, Morgan. Wait—”

  “No,” she gasped, undoing another button. “I’ve waited forever for this. I want to know how it feels to have you staring down at me, with your body buried inside mine, as you tell me you love me. Don’t make me wait any longer.”

  “Hell, I can’t deny you anything,” he groaned, his hot, powerful hands stripping off her panties and T-shirt. Morgan helped him rip his own shirt over his head, and then he was settling over her, his weight braced on his left arm as he opened his mouth over a sensitive nipple, his tongue stroking her…licking her, while using his right hand to shove his jeans over his hips. And then he was inside her, the feeling of rightness so intense she cried out, dissolving in a long, shivering release, his mouth finding hers…and he kissed her as if he was starved for her. As if he wanted to eat her alive. They made love with a primal, passionate intensity that was so much sweeter for the breathtaking emotions burning between them, their mouths feeding off each other with long, drugging kisses that tasted of happiness and hope and hunger.

  “Mine,” he breathed against her lips, nipping her with his teeth, and she clenched around him, milking his cock with lush, greedy pulls, desperate for everything he had to give her.

  When their ragged breathing had finally slowed, she asked, “What happens now?” She pressed her ear to his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart as he lay on his back beneath her.

  “We need to monitor Westmore’s compound,” he told her, his deep voice rich with satisfaction. “Wait for a signal from Kell. I’ll give him ’til Friday, but that’s it. After that, I’m finding some way to get him out of that place, even if I have to dig through miles of ice to do it.”

  “Fair enough,” she murmured. “Are we going to contact Quinn and the others?”

  He stroked his hand through her hair, saying, “Ashe is going to head out tomorrow and track down Gideon, then come back here to help us against Westmore. He’s also going to call Quinn for me and let him know what’s happening. If Quinn and the others are determined to come and help, like I imagine they will be, then Ashe will meet up with them and lead the group back here.”

  “It’s so strange, hearing you talk about Ashe.” She grinned and pressed a kiss to his warm chest. “It’s like the universe has been knocked out of whack or something.”

  “Yeah, well, I owe him a lot for being there when you needed him.”

  Morgan’s grin got bigger as she raised her head, locking her gaze with his. “I told you he wasn’t such a villain.”

  “We won’t be picking out best friends’ bracelets anytime soon,” he drawled, a lopsided grin kicking up the corner of his mouth, “but, yeah, he’s not so bad.”

  “You know,” she whispered, “when you grin like that, it just makes me want to attack you.”

  Heat gleamed in his beautiful green eyes, but he frowned, his voice rough as he said, “I don’t want to wear you out.”

  She lifted her brows. “Then give me what I want so I don’t have to fight you for it.”

  “Morgan,” he groaned, his voice catching as she reached down and wrapped her hand around the hot, rigid length of his cock. “Damn it, you’re killing me.”

  “I feel incredible, Kierland. Better than I’ve ever felt. But I’ll feel even better with you inside me again,” she told him, stroking him with a slow, possessive grip. “Please.”

  He cursed, growling husky, sexual words about how crazy she drove him…how much he wanted her…craved her, as he pushed her to her back again and settled himself into the cradle of her thighs. Her lips curled with a slow, satisfied smile as he fit himself against her, forcing his cock inside the slippery, clutching depths of her body. He pressed his open mouth to hers, licking his way inside, and pushed himself deep…deeper, the muscular wall of his chest rubbing against her breasts. A rough, guttural sound slipped from his lips as he pulled back his hips, then thrust back inside with a slow, heavy lunge that arched her back, her hands gripping onto the hot, sweat-slick surface of his shoulders.

  Then she shivered, choking back a muffled sob, and he lifted his head, staring down at her, a stricken expression tightening his features the instant he noticed the tears in her eyes. “Damn it, did I hurt you?”

  “No!” she gasped, locking her legs around his lean hips when he started to withdraw. “It’s just that…I’m so scared, Kier. I’m terrified you’re going to wake up and suddenly change your mind.”

  “Aw, angel. That’s never going to happen,” he told her, taking her hands and threading his fingers with hers. “God, Morgan, my life has been hell without you, and I know I have so much to make up for. So many mistakes. I’ve wasted so much time that I could have spent with you, because I’ve been an idiot and a jackass, but I’m not going to be one anymore. I’m just… I’ll be whatever you need me to be.”

  “Mine,” she said breathlessly. “All I need is for you to be mine.”

  “Always. I promise. I couldn’t ever be anything else.”

  “Then bite me again,” she whispered, smiling up at him. “I want the chance to enjoy it this time.”

  “Bloody hell,” he growled, already opening his mouth over the curve of her shoulder as he buried himself deeper within her body. And then she couldn’t hear anything except for the pounding of her own heart. The roar of her pulse.

  As the ecstasy swam through her system, Morgan closed her eyes, giving herself up to the beauty of the moment. To the blistering warmth and pleasure and limitless expanse of love that surged inside her.

  Then Kierland pulled his fangs from her shoulder, nuzzled his way along the shivering column of her throat…and whispered a soft, husky question in her ear.

  With perfect trust in her heart, and tears burning in her eyes, Morgan threw her arms around his neck and said, “I thought you would neve
r ask.”

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-5482-8

  TOUCH OF SURRENDER

  Copyright © 2010 by Tabitha Bird

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