by Elisa Adams
Sam had never lied to her. He’d tried to avoid the truth, but he hadn’t hid what he was, or what he’d done. He told her everything, even knowing that it might scare her away. That took more courage than Paul had ever had. He deserved the same from her—nothing but open honesty.
She left the sanctuary of the bathroom, walked back into the bedroom. It’s now or never. Just do it. Tell him how you feel. Her hands shook. What if he rejected her? No. He wouldn’t. She knew it deep inside.
He lay on his back on the bed, his eyes focused on the images on the TV screen. He lifted onto his elbows, swung his gaze in her direction. His eyes widened.
“Do you need some clothes? There’s a robe in the closet.”
Goose bumps broke out over every inch of her bare flesh. Her nipples pebbled, and a trickle of moisture ran down her thigh. She walked to him, stopped next to the bed. “No. I don’t want clothes.”
He sat up. Hope lit his eyes. “Then what do you want?” His voice sounded hoarse, strangled. Interested.
She smiled. “You.”
He let out a harsh breath, sat up and held his hand out to her. “Are you coming to bed?”
She swallowed, nodded. “But it’s morning. I don’t really feel like sleeping.”
A grin broke out on Sam’s face. “That’s okay. Neither do I.”
She took his hand, let him pull her toward the bed. When her knees bumped the mattress, he gave her hand a sharp tug. She toppled onto the bed and, within seconds, he covered her body with his. His lips met hers in a fierce, possessive kiss that stole her breath and left her clawing at his shirt, trying to tear the material from his body. His tongue swept into her mouth, stroking and plunging. She met him thrust for thrust with her own tongue. It had been a long time since he’d touched her, too long, in her opinion, and her body cried out for him to give her all he had. It was crazy, but she’d missed him, even though they hadn’t been separated in days.
What about him made her want him so much? Was it his incubus blood? Something else? She didn’t know, but she couldn’t get enough. He brought out a side of her she hadn’t known was there. A wanton, wild side she could no longer bury in the back of her mind.
His erection pressed against her mound, the barrier of his jeans hot against her skin. She reached between them, fighting with the zipper to free him of the cumbersome fabric. And then his mouth left hers, his teeth grazing the side of her neck. Fangs. She froze, shivered. The one time he had bitten her, it had been incredible. Orgasmic, in and of itself. But what if that was a fluke? Maybe she’d been so far gone with fear and arousal that it had overshadowed the pain. What if this time, he hurt her? He nipped her skin and she thrashed against him. “Sam, don’t.”
“Easy.” His tongue darted across her skin, leaving a trail of quaking flesh in its wake. Her nerves settled a little, but tension still tightened her muscles. “I’m not going to hurt you. But I need this. It’ll take the edge off so I won’t be too rough with you.”
She stilled, part of her afraid and part of her intrigued at the idea. Maybe even a little excited, if it affected her the same way his feeding had the last time. “Are you sure?”
He lifted his head, glanced at her. Humor danced in his eyes, along with lust and a healthy dose of frustration. “Oh yeah, I’m sure. I want this to last today. I don’t want to do anything to rush it. And if I don’t feed, I won’t be able to hold back.”
She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. Nodded. “Okay. I understand. Just don’t…I don’t like pain.”
“If you have any pain, it will be a good kind of pain.” He nipped her neck again. “You do like the good kind of pain, don’t you? Just like last time. Remember?”
She shivered at the memory of being up against the tree, of coming with nothing more than the touch of his teeth on her skin and his clothed body between her legs. Her body went liquid at the thought. “Yes. I remember.”
“Then trust me. It’ll be fine.” He smiled against her skin. “More than fine.”
She expected him to sink his fangs into the side of her neck, as he had before, but he apparently had other ideas—ideas that had her questioning her sanity. His lips trailed down her throat, past her collarbone. He took a peaked nipple into his mouth and laved. Would he bite her breast? No. That would be too much. Yet the idea made a frisson of lust shimmy up her spine. The moist heat of his mouth sent sparks of pleasure through her. A gush of cream flooded her cunt, as a long, ragged moan escaped her lips.
He moved from one breast to the other, offering her other nipple the same treatment. But this time, his fangs sank into the turgid flesh. She gasped at the sharp, stinging pain, tried to twist away from him, but he held her still. Soon the pain faded to a dull ache, settling in her cunt. The ache morphed into full-blown lust, clawing at her insides, driving her into a near-frenzy. She arched against his mouth while he drank from her breast. It was indescribable, the way he made her feel when he fed from her. She’d never felt anything like it before, and she knew she never would again.
The skin under his mouth heated, burning, bathing her in wet heat. Waves of pleasure washed over her, clenched her muscles, sending quivers through her cunt. Her hands flew to his head, tangled in his hair, holding him in place in case he thought to move away.
“You taste so damned good,” he growled around her flesh. “So perfect.”
He tore his mouth away from her, glanced up at her with uncertain eyes. An expression that both thrilled her and scared her. “Tell me you won’t leave me.”
“Sam, I…” Her voice trailed off, her protests dying in her throat. She blinked at him, tried to pull him back to her. He couldn’t mean what she hoped.
He swirled his tongue over her nipple once, twice, placed a kiss between her breasts. “Say it, Faith. Tell me you won’t walk out on me. I need to hear you say it.”
His earnest plea struck her like an arrow through the heart. She couldn’t deny him what he needed to hear any more than she could deny her body the pleasure of his touch. “I’m not going anywhere, Sam. Not without you.”
He smiled. Not the rakish grin, not the come-hither curve of his lips, but a real smile. One that shone with trust, affection. Love.
No. She pushed the thought away. Better to concentrate on the release they could give each other’s bodies than to focus on an emotion she imagined in his eyes. Sam could never love her. Not the way she needed him to. He wasn’t capable of that kind of love. He’d never said as much with his words, but his actions had been clear on more than one occasion. Or had they? Stop. If she thought about it any more, it would break her heart. She returned the smile even as a chill shook her insides.
His lips traveled down her abdomen in wet, openmouthed kisses, until he reached her mound. He pressed his nose to her, drew a deep breath and sighed. “You smell amazing.”
She leaned up on her elbows, her body blushing a thousand shades of red. Even after all they’d done, it amazed her that he still had the power to unsettle her as much as he aroused her. “Sam, don’t. Please.”
“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I love the way you smell. I can’t get enough.” He leaned in again, pressed his lips to her clit. A tremor ran through her, her inner muscles spasming. She dropped back to the quilt and grabbed fistfuls of the soft material to still the emotions raging through her body. Any thoughts of embarrassment faded with his sensual touch.
“Sam, please.”
He circled her clit with his tongue, stroked, pressed down with enough force to bring her hips off the mattress. What would she do when he was gone? She licked her lips. She’d be forever comparing every man she met to Sam.
“Is this what you want?”
She nodded, her breath escaping in short, harsh pants.
His lips and tongue roamed her pussy, alternately stroking and plucking her clit, kissing their way down her folds. He plunged his tongue deep inside her. The slippery wet feel of him there sent another wave of tremors coursing through her. She clung tig
hter to the quilt, her body screaming for release but her mind not yet ready to let go.
Sam didn’t give her a choice. He drove her over the edge, pushed her further than he’d pushed her before. She tumbled, fell into oblivion as her body writhed against him. With his lips on her pussy, he drank her cream as she gushed on his face. Shudders shook her body for what seemed like an eternity, dragging her along helplessly. And still, he didn’t let up.
Only when her tremors stopped did he move back up her body. His lips covered hers, his tongue plundered, his hands roaming her body with expert skill. Every inch of her skin tingled, her body still crying out for more. And with Sam, she knew there was always so much more. His body fit hers perfectly, his lips firm and warm against hers, his chest pressing her against the firm mattress.
The kiss ended too soon. Sam moved away, pushed himself off the bed and her body went ice cold from the loss of contact.
He stood in front of her, his gaze never leaving hers as he stripped out of his clothes and tossed them into a pile on the floor. The mattress dipped, the springs creaked as he joined her on the bed. A sense of urgency to get him closer filled her, knowing that their time together was limited. It wouldn’t be long before it all ended and she went back home—by herself. It would kill her to let him walk away, but it would be selfish for her to ask him to stay. But until he was out of her life, she planned to enjoy everything to the fullest. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulled him down and kissed him.
His cock prodded her soft entrance. She lifted her hips, urging him inside. He grabbed her ass in his big palms, slid himself deep.
“I’ll never get enough of you.” His rough whisper feathered across her ear.
Something in the region of her heart clenched, filled with hope where before she’d had none. His tone told her he spoke of her in more than the physical sense. “Do you mean that?”
A small smile lit his face. “Yes.”
His tenderness once again took her by surprise, rendering her speechless as he stroked into her cunt in a slow, unhurried rhythm. Her body stretched to fit his size, molded around him. She ran her hands down his arms, up his back, leaned up and softly kissed his lips.
The kiss grew more passionate, deeper, as his strokes shortened, driving his cock into her over and over until the stirrings of another orgasm built low in her belly. He hadn’t been like this with her before—so slow, so careful—and she liked it. A lot. It showed her a different side of the man she’d come to care so much about, and gave her a sliver of hope for the future. He ground his hips against her, lifted her ass to change the angle of his thrusts, sending a wave of sensation rocketing through her. The orgasm wasn’t powerful or explosive, but the strength of it, and her feelings for the man, took her breath away. Her nails grazed his skin, her eyes snapped shut as her muscles clenched and unclenched around him.
Her hands flew to his ass, cupped the cheeks, and pulled him closer to milk every drop of pleasure out of her writhing body. Sam’s lips brushed her jaw, her chin, trailed down her throat. He placed a wet kiss at the tender spot where her shoulder met her neck, whispered her name just before he stiffened above her, his hot seed jetting into her womb.
She clung to him for a long time after, not willing to let him go. As much as she wanted to deny it, there would be a time when he’d leave, and he wouldn’t come back. A man like Sam, a demon, needed more than what a simple human could provide. She wouldn’t be able to hang on to him for long. Once he’d destroyed Tomaz, he would walk out of her life for good. She didn’t see any way of preventing that from happening. A tear slid down her cheek, followed by another. She stifled a sob.
Sam pulled back and looked at her. “What’s the matter? Why are you crying?”
“It’s nothing.” She tried to brush off his concern. “Stress.”
He shook his head, but didn’t press her for further answers. He pulled out of her, sat up and held his arms out to her. “Come here.”
She struggled to sit, moved into his arms and collapsed against his chest. Now that the tears had started, she couldn’t stem the flow. She cried against his bare chest, cried for everything she’d lost. Cried for the life she’d left behind. Cried for the one man she’d ever wanted, but could never keep.
“Relax.” His warm palm stroked her back. “It’s almost over.”
His words only increased her tears. That was exactly what she was afraid of.
Chapter Eleven
The fading daylight surrounded Sam as he stood on the private balcony overlooking the garden. Soon, he would have to leave. Too soon. He didn’t want her here all alone, but he couldn’t take her with him. He wouldn’t see her hurt because of his own personal battles.
The muffled sounds of the shower reached him from across the room, hardening his cock all over again. He’d never felt so insatiable in his life. She brought that out in him. Along with other things. Other things he’d prefer not to put a name to. She brought out the best in him, as well as the worst, and he didn’t know if he liked it.
He stepped back inside, thought about getting dressed and ready to head out to find Tomaz, but something stopped him. Faith. He couldn’t leave her yet. If he didn’t come back…
He didn’t even want to think of the possibility. She’d cried for nearly an hour, buried in his arms. It killed him to see her like that, so upset, so desolate. But what could he do? Reassurances didn’t work. He’d almost tapped into her mind to find out what the real problem was, but he had held himself back. He would keep his word not to read her mind without permission. But not all his reasons were so gallant. He hadn’t wanted to know the truth. It might have forced him not to go to Tomaz. It might have held him back, if he knew the real feelings.
He could let nothing stand in his way, not even his mate.
But he couldn’t leave things the way they were, either. He needed to reassure her, and himself, that everything would be fine. Because if it wasn’t, if he got himself killed, she would find another man to take care of her. No. She belonged to him. She had to know that. And if she didn’t, he would show her. The urge welled in him, overcoming all else. He stormed into the hotel room.
He walked into the bathroom, slammed the door shut. Faith peeked her head around the shower curtain, her gaze uncertain. “Sam?”
Without a word, he stepped into the shower and pushed her up against the wall, crushed her lips in a hard, claiming kiss that would leave no doubt in her mind who she belonged to.
But if he didn’t come back…
Humans didn’t mate for life, as much as they liked to think they did. If he died, she would find someone else. She wouldn’t hesitate, wouldn’t look back before she married another man. He broke the kiss, tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. He had to come back. The thought of her with any other man chilled his blood, hardened his heart.
“Sam?” she asked again, her tone tinged with worry.
He looked down at her, into her big brown eyes, and the truth socked him in the gut. He loved her. He’d spent all his life avoiding human emotions, walking away when he got too tied up in it all, but this time he couldn’t. He’d do anything for her, not because of the ever-strengthening bond they’d formed that first night, but because of love. She loved him too. He saw it in her eyes, though she was just as stubborn as he was and would never admit to it first.
He opened his mouth, the words ready to spring free, but he bit them back at the last second. If he got himself killed, and the odds tipped toward that possibility, he wouldn’t have her pining over him. No matter what happened, he wanted her to be happy. She wouldn’t be content acting like some kind of grieving widow for the rest of her life. He kept the words to himself. Hearing her say the words back would fortify his strength for what was to come, but he wouldn’t put her through that. He’d have to be content with what he saw in her eyes. If he destroyed Tomaz and lived to tell about it, he would be free to confess everything to her. But not before then.
He lifted his fing
er to her lips, traced their full, plump lines. Traced the line of her jaw, the gentle slope of her cheekbone, the curve where her shoulder met her neck. His hands, his eyes, memorized everything. Every curve, every soft line, every inch of her fair skin. He pushed the wet fall of her hair out of the way and pressed his lips to that spot. Her taste, her scent would be forever emblazoned on his senses.
His lips followed the line of her throat down to her collarbone, his tongue dipping into the hollows to taste her warm, wet skin. His cock hardened, pressed into her soft belly, begging for the attention only Faith could give. Even if he survived, there was still a possibility that she’d leave him once she learned the whole truth. It would kill him, but he wouldn’t stand in her way if that was what she needed to do. He concentrated on burning her into his mind so, in case she did choose to walk away, he would have memories to keep him going for the rest of his lonely life.
She arched against him, took his cock in her hand and stroked. A wave of heat washed over him, tightening his muscles and sending shocks of arousal through his gut. His hand came over hers, tightening her grip, forcing a shudder out of him. Together they stroked for what seemed like an eternity but could only been a matter of minutes, dragging shiver after shiver out of his body, driving his arousal to a near-fevered pitch. The feel of her soft, silky palm covering him pushed his need higher until he couldn’t stand it anymore. He had to get inside her—right that second. He reached over her and turned the shower off.
She blinked up at him, confusion lighting her eyes. “What are you doing?”
“I need you.” He pulled her hand away from his cock and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. “I can’t wait.”
“We just spent most of the day in bed.”
They had, but something deeper, stronger drove him this time. The need to be inside her, to feel the hot walls of her cunt squeezing him one more time. “This is different.”