He breathed in her scent, and it made his head spin as he flicked his tongue against her. Slowly at first, savoring, tasting, and then more quickly, in a rhythm that had her fluttering her hips against him.
“Phin, please,” she murmured, already fisting her hands in his hair, urging him upward. He wouldn’t be moved, licking until her muscles shook. He’d just drawn that bundle of nerve-endings into his mouth and began to suck in gentle, rhythmic pulls when she bucked so hard, he was forced to release her.
She took full opportunity, and rolled to the side of the bed to stand. Her breasts heaved as she looked down at him with hot, hungry eyes.
“Lay back and let me ride you before I lose my ever-loving mind,” she said, the command in her voice tempered only by the plea.
His cock pulsed as he moved to recline against the chaise, watching her every move. She climbed up and shimmied past his calves and knees to straddle him.
“Condom?” she gasped.
“Part of the rules of the Club. Bi-annual checks.” The lie was a harmless one but it still gave him a twinge of guilt. While it was true for the humans, the nightwalkers didn’t need them. They were impervious to human disease.
The relief on her face would’ve been comical if his cock wasn’t so swollen.
“And I’m clean and on The Pill,” she murmured, already lowering herself closer.
Her response sent a thrill through him and he arched into her, pushing his hips against her pelvis. With nothing between them, he could feel her damp heat slick against his thighs, teasing him. The desire to fill her became a grinding need. Not that he could complain about the way he slid, slippery against her soft pink center. Hell, if he had the choice, he might stay here for an hour just to watch as she rocked up and down, making his cock ache in delicious, terrible torture.
But she didn't make him wait. She lifted her hips and used her warm hand to hold him firm as she slid down onto him. It was pure ecstasy as she took him inch by aching inch. She tossed her head back as she drove him inside her, giving in to the sensation. He pinched his eyes closed, the feel of her clutching flesh combined with the view more than he could bear for a second. When he opened them again, she was above him, moving with a slow, steady purpose.
Her breasts moved with each thrust, bouncing faster as she picked up the pace.
"God, you fit me like a glove,” he ground out, and he traced a line from her breasts to her slit. “Perfect.”
Gently, he circled the swollen bundle of nerves there, until she sucked in a sharp breath. Her channel tightened around him and he knew she was close. He rocked her harder, gripping one hip as he thumbed her core, using her own wetness to double her pleasure.
She folded over and met his lips, mimicking the motion of their bodies with her tongue.
He dragged his mouth away as his balls went tight, pressure building as the need to come bore down on him.
"Bring your knees close against my hips," he groaned.
She did, and his world splintered.
Christ.
He bit down hard on her neck with his human teeth, unable to deny himself at least that, and then lifted a hand to thread through her hair. She was everywhere. Her firm breasts pressed against his chest. The thrum of her heartbeat against his lips. And her warm wet pussy contracting around his cock.
"I'm going to come," she groaned, then louder. "Oh, God!”
She slapped a hand against the mattress and she pushed him so deep inside her that he was sure he’d nearly lost the ability to move as she came, her body clutching at his like an unseen hand. A second later, he joined her, pulsing and rocking as orgasm crashed over him and he gave way to every sensation in his body. His eyes closed tight and he gripped her hair harder, taking in wave after wave of tingling release.
She slumped over him, mashing her breasts to his chest.
And in that moment, for the first time since he could remember, he felt satisfied.
For a time.
They would have each other again and again before the night was through, and as she drifted off in his arms, he only had one thought…
He would do whatever it took to keep her.
Chapter 7
“I’ll tell you one last time. You can’t go in there right now,” Phin said, his mocking smile hardly even apologetic this time.
"You're not the boss of me you know," she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest in an effort to keep from reaching and slapping him. She didn't know what his problem was, but he had made it like his day job to irritate her.
If only that's all he made you feel.
She shoved aside that thought and glared at him, careful not to notice the way his muscles flexed beneath the thin cotton of his T-shirt.
In the past five days she'd spent with him, she'd only ever seen him in suits, despite the fact that they never left this godforsaken cabin. But that morning she'd woken extra early, gunning for a chance to sneak into Zara's room before he woke up. Something fishy was going on here, and she wasn't going to stop until she got to the bottom of it. Too bad for her, she'd only succeeded in getting to the kitchen right as her nemesis sat down with a cup of coffee after a pre-dawn run.
The bastard hadn't even broken a sweat, but there was no question he'd gotten an excellent workout, because that body...
She cleared her throat and tapped her foot expectantly.
"So why can't I see her this time, Your Highness?"
Cocky Dr. Fenton crossed one ankle over the other and gave her that shit-eating smile that sent a bolt of heat straight between her thighs even as it ratcheted her irritation up another notch.
"I told you already. I'm not going to let you wake her. She needs every single wink of sleep she can get if she wants to fully recover from this."
"Yeah, right. 'This'. And what, pray tell, is 'this' again? Because all the lines you keep feeding me are getting a bit old. What, exactly, is Zara so sick from? And why isn't she in the hospital?"
He rolled to his feet and stood, towering over her.
"Look, I know you want answers. I don't have them. What I can tell you is that the course of antibiotics and medicines I have her on have improved her condition markedly and continue to do so every day. So let me do my job and get off my jock, would you?"
She should've just let him pass, but she couldn't help herself. She stopped him with a hand on his chest. "You should be so lucky if I was on your jock," she countered. Clearly, she was itching for a fight. After days of constant banter that was escalating into outright verbal war, she'd finally reached her breaking point. "You're the most irritating, arrogant son of a bitch I've ever met and I can't wait to leave this place so-"
He moved so fast, she barely had time to gasp before his mouth was on hers.
His tongue was clever and quick, his hands cupping her hips, tilting her closer so she could feel his arousal. It was more possession than kiss, and to her dismay, it lit her up into flames.
It was only when she had the unrelenting urge to grind against him, to feel his naked body next to hers, that she found the wherewithal to pull away.
She wiped her shaking hand over her mouth.
"Don't ever do that again," she said, wishing to god her voice sounded more substantial instead of like the squeak of an indignant field mouse.
She lifted her chin and pushed past him, making her way to the stairs. She didn't wait to see if he was following, instead, relying on this crazy adrenaline coursing through her to move more quickly, bypassing her own room and heading to Zara and Gabriel's. For some strange reason, she didn't knock. Instead, with a growing sense of dread and macabre curiosity, she pushed open the door.
Holy mother of God--
Steph shot up with a strangled cry, holding a hand to her pounding heart.
Where was she, what was happening?
"Steph? Are you all right?"
She turned to see Phin sitting up beside her, naked chest on display as the sheets slid to his hips.
Phin, who she
'd slept with the night before more times than she could count on one hand.
Phin, who had been at the cabin in Montana.
Phin, who, unless she truly had lost her mind, was a fucking vampire...just like Gabriel, and after Montana, just like Zara.
The room spun as dizziness overtook her. She tried to suck in a breath through her nose, but panic clamped over her lungs, making it hard to breathe.
"Stephanie, tell me what's happening," Phin urged, reaching out and rubbing her back in slow circles. "It's okay, everything is all right."
She cowered to the far side of the bed, whole body quaking as more memories rushed to her mind, the black smudges that had been missing starting to fill in.
"You were there. You were on the plane home with me. You're a liar, and worse--"
And what? Was she actually going to accuse him of being a vampire? Hadn't this been the behavior that had nearly caused Zara to run over Gabriel when they'd first met? Was she a victim of that same paranoia?
But god, it felt so real. When she'd stepped through that door and saw Zara bent over Gabriel's wrist, drinking blood from him, her eyes glazed with lust and hunger...there was no way that was a dream.
Was there?
She pushed herself from the bed and wrapped the sheets around her, clutching them to her chest like a shield.
"Tell me the truth now, Phin, or I walk away and blow this thing wide open." She knew as she said the words that she might be signing her own death warrant. But surely, if this was all real, and they'd wanted her dead, they'd have killed her by now. And while everything Phin had said and done might have been faked, Zara was her friend. Then and now, still. She wouldn't let them hurt her...would she?
Phin's gaze was shuttered as he nodded slowly. "All right, then. The truth.”
Part of her wished she could stop him right there. Maybe she could walk away with some last bit of innocence. Instead, she stayed silent, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“We are nightwalkers. Zara is now, too. What you saw was her during her transition period. We brought you to Montana because you were suspicious of her sudden absence, calling Zara and Gabriel, demanding to speak with her. We needed to keep you close so you didn't start asking questions, but obviously, that didn't work." His grim smile made her heart crack in two. "You came to Montana and became even more difficult to control. We wound up having to erase certain memories in order to keep our existence secret."
"We?" she whispered, her mind whirring as she tried to keep up with these revelations.
He inclined his head in a curt nod. "All right, then. Me. I had to do it. Apparently, I did a piss-poor job of it. I wanted to interfere as little as possible. Make sure the rest of your mind stayed intact, so I was gentle but thorough, or so I thought."
But it hadn't worked. Not totally. So now what?
For the first time, genuine fear gripped her as her blood ran cold. Would he kill her now? Drink her blood and leave her an empty husk of a person so that she couldn't tell anyone what she knew?
She would deal with her hurt feelings once she got some space from him. For now, she needed to focus on staying alive. She wet her lips and took a step back toward the door. "I-I won't tell anyone anything. I'm like a human vault. Ask Zara, she can vouch for me."
He stood, his naked body hard as a statue, tall and imposing even from across the room. He shook his head slowly. "Don't embarrass us both by trying to run, love. I don't want to have to catch you and force you to stay, but I can't let you leave yet. Not until we've talked this through."
That couldn't happen. Surely he realized that the time for talking had passed. Her mind was like mush, a throbbing mass of confusion and emotion. She just needed to get out of there, embarrassment be damned.
She lunged for the door, darting through it and making for the kitchen in a mad dash. She was stunned to find herself by the butcher's block, meat cleaver in hand before he stepped into the room, nude, one golden brow arched.
"Seriously? You're going to kill me with a cleaver?" he asked, stepping closer. "What if this was all a lie? Or a trick? Suppose I was really just a regular Joe with a bad sense of humor. You would murder me with that and feel terrible, wouldn't you?"
She brandished it with a hiss. "Stay back." She prayed silently that he would listen, because he was right. She didn't know if she had the heart to actually take a whack at him with it.
He reached for her anyway, and she closed her eyes and took a swing, but it was half-hearted at best. And when he tugged the weapon from her unresisting fingers, tears welled up in her eyes. The man had done nothing but lie to her and take advantage of her attraction to him since the day they'd met. Yet this was the one man who had actually made her feel something for the first time since her fiancé had died. Not to mention, he was a literal monster.
How unfair was life sometimes?
She'd barely completed the thought when she could feel her mind slipping...a pressure building in her temples.
"What are you doing? Stop it," she tried to murmur, but the words died on her lips as darkness enveloped her.
Chapter 8
"What the actual fuck, Fenton?" Irena demanded, her eyes like two chips of ruby. "Why didn't you just tell me when she came into the club? I was there the whole time. We could’ve dealt with it right out of the gate."
Zara paced the room, a ball of latent energy, fit to be tied. "I don't like any of this. Not one bit. I told you all, if anything happens to her..." She shot a pleading look to her mate.
Gabriel moved to her side, slowing her to a stop and pulling her into his arms. "Nothing is going to happen to her."
Phin watched the three of them, the initial fear he'd felt fading more with every passing moment. He'd been fairly sure that if he told Irena the whole truth, Steph's life could be in danger. It was clear now as he watched the interaction that none of them were keen on the idea of her getting hurt.
"What about Ezekiel? You think he's just going to agree to bring Steph into the fold? Assuming she would even want to be part of our brethren." Both assumptions seemed dicey at best, but he couldn't help but imagine what life would be like if it could, indeed, work out that way.
Steph, in his life, on a daily basis. Arguing with him, irritating him, loving him--
He cut that thought off at the knees and focused on his comrades. "Ezekiel accepted Zara because of Gabriel. He and I don't have the same relationship. He barely tolerates me and that's because I'm indispensable in a practical way. Why would he agree to letting her in?"
"Because I'll ask him to," Irena said simply. "You haven't spent much time around us together, but I think you'll find that he is very amenable to most of my suggestions these days."
Zara sent her a grateful smile. "I think you're right. He seems so different now. So much happier and unburdened."
Phin found it hard to imagine a happy Ezekiel but nodded slowly. Zara loved Stephanie. She wouldn't risk her friend’s life if she didn't think it was a risk that would pay off.
"Okay, so what's our next move then?"
"Your next move is to talk to Steph," Zara said. "Explain and see if you can get her to listen. If you can’t convince her, I'll give it a go. All we can do is hope she is willing to hear us out."
He refused to think about the potential alternative. It had killed him to force her to sleep earlier in his kitchen, but he'd had no choice. If she decided she didn't want to be a part of his life and their brethren and he was forced to infiltrate her mind again and try to erase her memories of him, he didn't know if he could do it.
Not now that he knew what some part of him had known from the first time he'd touched her.
They belonged to one another. He just had to make her see it.
He stood and made his way to the bedroom where Stephanie lay in forced slumber. Slowly, with each step, he lessened the hold he'd placed over her mind. When he stepped into the room, he imagined she'd be waking slowly, and still groggy.
Instead, what greeted h
im was a crystal vase careening through the air, straight at his head.
"You son of a bitch," she howled. She stood next to the bed wrapped in a sheet toga-style as she searched furiously for more projectiles. "You touch my brain again and I will get that cleaver. It might not kill you, but it will definitely cut your dick off," she shouted.
He winced, stomach clenching instinctively at the thought even as he heard a faint male groan from the next room. That was one threat that wasn't any easier to hear as a nightwalker than it was as a man.
He neatly blocked the hardcover anatomy book that came flying in his direction and cut a path across the room to clutch her wrists right as she was about to launch a clock at him.
"Stop it, Steph. I'm sorry. Please, just calm down so we can talk."
Her chest heaved with ragged breaths as she scowled at him.
"Promise you won't do that again. It feels wormy and weird and I hate it."
He nodded slowly, wishing his insides didn't feel topsy-turvy whenever he looked at that heart-shaped face. If she refused him, what would his life be? More boredom, chasing some thrill that never came. He breathed in her soft, feminine scent and focused on the task at hand.
To make her want to stay.
"I promise I won’t do it again."
If she opted to leave, he'd deal with the fallout, but he made a silent vow to honor that promise, even if it cost him his life.
She eyed him suspiciously, but something in his expression must have touched something inside her because she nodded slowly.
"All right. So talk."
She tugged her wrists from his grasp and sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, poised for flight if need be.
"I didn't want to erase your memories. It was the only way to keep you safe. And once I realized you had started remembering, I told myself I had to keep you close. See what you remembered."
He contemplated that for a long moment before admitting.
Taming the Vampire: Over 25 All New Paranormal Alpha Male Tales of Contemporary, Military, Shifters, Billionaires, Werewolves, Magic, Fae, Witches, Dragons, Demons & More Page 96