by I. T. Lucas
Bhathian didn’t let go of her wrists as he dipped his head and took her mouth with bruising passion. The moment he asserted his dominance, Eva was flooded with wetness. Moaning into his mouth, she wished he would enter her and relieve the ache between her legs.
But he was in no hurry, and as his tongue pillaged her mouth, his fingers found her moist center and delved inside.
One, and then two.
She spread her legs wider, inviting more.
He fucked her with his fingers, while his thumb pressed against her clit, until she was writhing under him as much as his weight on top of her allowed.
“I need more,” she heard herself beg.
A soft whimper of protest left her mouth as his fingers abandoned her sheath, but a moment later, as he pushed inside her with one forceful shove, her groan of pleasure was laced with pain.
She’d forgotten how large Bhathian was. Their first time together he’d been more careful with her, wringing a couple of orgasms with his tongue before entering her one slow inch at a time and letting her get used to his girth.
But she wasn’t complaining, this was exactly what she’d asked for, what she’d wanted.
The pain was welcome, and it was not nearly enough. Regrettably, Bhathian wasn’t the kind of man who’d hurt a woman even if she asked him to.
He didn’t move, watching her face as he remained poised above her. “Okay?” he asked.
With a tight smile, she nodded.
He dipped his head and kissed her. A tender lover’s kiss that made her ache in a completely different way. A yearning for what could’ve been.
A lone tear slid down her cheek.
Bhathian lapped at the tear and kissed her again, pulling out almost completely. When he pushed back, he was gentle, going slow and shallow until the last of the discomfort was gone.
She wanted to wrap her arms around him and hold him close, to pretend there was love between them, but he was still holding on to her wrists. His tempo increased, and soon he was pounding into her with the power and vigor she remembered so well even after all those years.
Thank heavens.
Eva closed her eyes and just felt—the physical sensations bombarding every nerve ending in her body and chasing away feelings she didn’t want. Immobilized by Bhathian’s bulk and his iron grip, she was content to be no more than a vessel, a receptacle for his lust and his seed.
It was perfect.
Chapter 28: Bhathian
Startled, Bhathian watched a tear slide down Eva’s cheek.
He’d been remiss, emboldened by her spurring and the novelty of bedding a resilient, immortal woman. He should’ve refused to rush and brought her to a climax with his fingers and his tongue first. Then she would’ve been ready to accept him within her, experiencing only pleasure.
A mistake he wouldn’t repeat no matter how much Eva protested.
Why the hell was she in such a hurry?
Was his memory faulty or had Eva’s attitude toward sex changed drastically?
The woman he remembered had been playful, adventurous, and overconfident as only a stunning beauty like Eva could be. She’d been assertive, demanding—a tigress who’d fought her male for dominance and only submitted when he’d proven himself worthy by pleasuring her into oblivion.
It had been the best sex of his life.
The one trapped under him now seemed almost docile, like all the fight had been knocked out of her.
She was an immortal, and thirty-one years were supposedly a blink of an eye in her lifespan, but apparently they had taken their toll. The thing was, it hadn’t been easy for him either. The pain of guilt and the sorrow of regret had a way of souring one’s existence and stretching the hours of wakefulness into infinity until some relief could be found in sleep. And even then, the torment sometimes continued in his dreams.
It was time for the misery to end. Deep in his gut, Bhathian believed that Eva and he were each other’s salvation. The healing process would start the moment they reconnected, and the kick off was now, in this bed, where he knew he could give her what she needed.
Bhathian licked the tear off, then kissed her tenderly, pouring his soul into that kiss, communicating with his lips and his tongue what Eva wasn’t ready to hear him say. He started to move only when she went soft under him, her muscles losing the rigidity his careless invasion had caused.
He was able to keep up the gentle rhythm of shallow thrusts for about thirty seconds. Maintaining control and going slow when he was starved for her was becoming an impossible task.
His fangs started dripping with venom the moment he started to move. His body was a well-oiled machine, readying for the climax that was bearing upon him like a freight train loaded with granite slabs. There was no stopping it, not even delaying the explosion for a moment or two so Eva could catch up.
With a roar, he jetted into her, his fangs sinking into her neck at the same time.
Eva orgasmed immediately, and he kept pumping her full of his seed and his venom, prolonging her climax until they were both spent.
Bhathian pulled out his fangs and licked the two points of entry closed. He was still hard, but Eva wasn’t with him anymore, and it didn’t feel right to keep going while she wasn’t aware of what he was doing to her.
Holding himself on his forearms, he gave her room to breathe while watching her peaceful face, her beautiful yet harsh features softened by the euphoria she’d experienced moments ago.
He’d seen plenty of women soar on the clouds of post-venom euphoria; the difference was that this time he wouldn’t have to erase the memory.
For some reason, it always felt wrong to him. More than the act of biting an unsuspecting female, Bhathian hated taking away the memory of what had to be their best orgasm. Or at least the venom-induced part. The aphrodisiac and euphoric effect of an immortal male’s venom was incomparable to any sexual experience a female could ever have. It was a shame to rob her of the memory.
Would it affect an immortal female more than a human?
Or less?
If he were a more outgoing guy, like Anandur, he could’ve asked Kri. She was a fellow Guardian and more approachable than Syssi or Amanda, the only two other immortal females who had immortal mates. But then Kri and Amanda had always had sex as immortals and wouldn’t know the difference. That left only Syssi, who’d experienced a venom bite as a human and as an immortal. But asking the regent’s wife a personal question like that was even beyond Anandur’s chutzpah.
Eva’s lids opened a crack, and a lazy smile spread across her face. With her features more relaxed than he’d ever seen them, she was even more beautiful than before.
Lifting a sluggish hand, she touched her neck where he’d bitten her. “That was amazing. I’ve never done drugs, but that’s what a good trip must feel like.”
He kissed her cheek. “It’s better. And there are no nasty side effects, only benefits.”
Her lids lifted a few more millimeters. “If we make love one more time, would you bite me again?”
“If you want me to. After the first time, I can control the urge better. I will also last longer than a couple of minutes.” He chuckled nervously.
With a dazzling smile, Eva wrapped her arms around his torso and swiveled her hips. “You’re still deliciously hard, my Bhathian, I think you got several more in you.”
“I certainly do.” He retreated a little then pushed all the way in, pulling a throaty moan out of her throat. “How about you?”
“I can go for hours.” She lifted her hips and got him to sink even deeper. “I wonder who will give up first.”
A grin splitting his face, Bhathian retreated once more and rammed back all the way back. “Challenge accepted, female.”
Thank you, dear Fates.
His Eva was back.
Chapter 29: Tessa
“It’s so freaking noisy in here,” Tessa said to no one in particular.
Nick was up on the stage, jamming with Vlad, the loudspeaker
s blasting the sounds from their guitars at a painful level.
Sharon was all over a cute guy, a soloist for one of the bands that had performed tonight. He wasn’t much of a singer, and was probably a few years younger than Sharon, but he was good-looking in a boyish sort of way, and seemed like a nice guy.
Sharon had a sixth sense about stuff like that and could tell right away if a guy was a jerk who only pretended to be nice. She was just as good at sniffing out bitchy girls, but that was easy. Even Tessa could do that. One look was usually enough. The condescending way they regarded others and their body language betrayed their true nature. You couldn’t be nice and look down at everyone.
Very few people were genuinely nice. Tessa had experienced the worst and the best in humanity. The thing was, she’d met a lot of demons and only one angel. Eva. The person who’d helped her escape the nightmare she’d lived through. Tessa owed the woman her life.
“Would you like to step outside for some fresh air?” Jackson said as he neared their table. With her friends scattered to do their own thing, she was the only one left.
“You read my mind.” She smiled and took the coke he handed her.
“I heard you say it’s too loud in here.”
He couldn’t have. He’d been all the way over at the bar when she’d spoken. “Do you read lips?”
Jackson nodded, looking as if she’d caught him doing something bad. “A little.”
Tessa got to her feet and grabbed her purse. “Let’s go.”
Feeling the chilly air all the way down to her bones, she pulled out the thin cardigan she’d stuffed in there before going out. One of the things she loved about Tampa was the constant heat. The temperature differences between night and day were much more extreme in Los Angeles, and Tessa hated being cold. With her nonexistent fat layer, she had no defense against the chill.
“Here, let me hold your coke.” Jackson took the can out of her hand so she could get her sweater on.
“Thanks.”
It was dark, the few street lamps leaving a lot of shadows in the spaces between them. If not for Jackson’s company, Tessa would’ve never ventured outside the club even if it was located in a better area. According to Jackson, North Hollywood was not the best of neighborhoods. But for some reason the eighteen-year-old boy made her feel safe.
It wasn’t his size, though, but the inner strength and kindness she sensed in him. That being said, she was sure he could hold his own in a fight. Jackson was not only powerfully built, but graceful as a gymnast. Tall and wide shouldered, he carried his body with confidence. His posture was perfect and his limbs so well coordinated that his movements seemed fluid.
She’d expected a guy as handsome as him to be full of himself, arrogant, and he was, but somehow he managed to be charming nonetheless. Perhaps the difference was that Jackson didn’t put anyone down to make himself look better. He didn’t need to. In fact, he was incredibly generous with his praise.
People liked him.
Hell, she liked him. A lot.
Bhathian, Nathalie’s cousin on her father’s side, was impressive, but he couldn’t hold a candle to Jackson. Not in the looks department. In a fight, it was doubtless the other way around.
Bhathian was a warrior.
Jackson was a lover.
As heat spread over her cheeks, Tessa was thankful for the cover of darkness. It was so embarrassing to lust after a boy who was barely legal.
Lust?
What’s that?
Tessa had never felt it before. Her innocence had been brutally stripped away before she’d had a chance to feel anything like that. There were some movie stars and rock stars she’d daydreamed about, but not flesh-and-blood boys. What she’d experienced at the hands of the opposite sex had been so awful she never wanted anything to do with any of them again. If she were a religious person, she could’ve joined a convent and never look back.
Until Eva had dragged her along to Los Angeles.
Something had shifted inside Tessa when she’d met Bhathian and then Jackson. Good men. Men a woman could trust.
“There is a bench over there.” Jackson pointed to a shadowy enclave.
If he were any other guy, she would’ve run inside as fast as her short legs could carry her. A dark, isolated spot was what her nightmares were made of.
Jackson must’ve sensed her sudden flare of panic. “Unless it’s too cold for you. We can get back inside.”
She forced a smile. “It’s a bit chilly, but I like the quiet and the fresh air.” If she were to get over her fears, this was the perfect opportunity. If she couldn’t feel safe with Jackson, she was probably a lost cause.
Tessa refused to accept that there was no hope for her. One day she’d heal. One day she’d be able to suffer a man’s touch and not cringe in fear. But for that to happen, she needed to take the first step.
Tiny, baby steps. That was all she could promise herself.
He chuckled. “I wouldn’t call this air fresh, but it’s better than what’s in there.” He pointed back at the club.
“Yeah, definitely.” She followed him over to the bench and sat down beside him. There was at least a foot between them, but it was the closest she could get.
For now.
Tessa took a sip from her coke and slanted a glance at Jackson. “It must be a bummer to perform in a club and not be able to get a drink.”
He shrugged. “I have a fake driver’s license. I just don’t like the stuff.”
“Oh, yeah? How come?” She didn’t drink either, but most of the people she knew wouldn’t enjoy an outing without a couple of drinks.
“I like being sharp. I don’t get what’s fun about dulling your brain and diminishing your senses.”
Interesting. Very atypical for a guy his age. Not that she’d had much contact with teenagers, but the impression she’d gotten from watching sitcoms and movies was that they all wanted to grow up as fast as they could and considered alcohol consumption as an important milestone and sign of maturity. So stupid. Mainly the rush to grow up. Tessa would’ve given anything to go back in time and have a normal childhood. Those kids didn’t know how good they had it. A home, loving parents, a world that didn’t seem bound on devouring them. Innocence was bliss.
“So you never had a drink? Not even once?”
He grimaced. “Let’s say that the one time I did was a lesson I will never forget.”
Jackson had such a pleasant voice she just wanted to keep him talking. Besides, as long as he talked she didn’t have to. The truth was that she didn’t have much to tell. The agency’s business was confidential, and her private life was boring.
Thank God for that. Tessa would take boring over horrific any day.
“Tell me about it,” she prompted.
He smiled. “It was at my cousin’s wedding. My friends and I snuck out a few bottles—”
Chapter 30: Eva
The house was still quiet when Eva shook off the stupor that had engulfed her like a thick blanket of fluffy pink clouds. The post-coital euphoria had been out of this world.
Eva hadn’t felt so refreshed and so calm in ages, not even after a full night’s sleep. Not that she’d gotten many of those. Most nights she would toss and turn as a barrage of unwanted thoughts bombarded her mind, keeping her awake. Her immortal body didn’t need much downtime, but an hour or two wasn’t enough even for her.
Turning on her side, Eva propped herself on her elbow and regarded the male sleeping next to her, letting her eyes roam over his magnificent body. Normally she wasn’t into the bodybuilder types, but on Bhathian it looked good. His muscles weren’t for decoration. The guy was a fighter. A Guardian.
Their occupations were something they had in common other than contributing to Nathalie’s genes. Except, Bhathian was still in the business of law enforcement. Even though his job was the policing of his clan, he wasn’t breaking any of the laws governing the rest of American society. Eva, on the other hand, was skirting on its edges.
She still believed that, believed in the necessity of following the law, but the law didn’t do enough to protect and save the victims suffering at the hands of evil.
So yeah, she was putting herself above the law and answering to no one other than God. The thing was, God had never spoken to her, and her belief that she’d been given her special abilities to deliver His justice was just that—a belief.
The cost of her actions might be the damnation of her soul.
It was a risk she’d considered and accepted.
But that was before.
Now that she’d gotten her Nathalie back and had discovered the fantastic circumstances that had made her, Eva’s conviction was starting to waver. It was tempting to leave the meting out of justice to others and go back to being a mother and soon a grandmother.
Life would be so much simpler.
Could she, though?
Probably not. And if she was honest with herself, it wasn’t only the concern for the victims. She got a rush out of ridding the world of the worst of its maggots.
It was an addiction of sorts.
The last thing she needed was a man like Bhathian around. He was basically a cop, suspicious and trained to sniff out criminal activity. She doubted he would involve the human authorities if he found anything, but there was no way he could turn a blind eye to her illegal activities.