Deep IsThe Night: Haunted Souls

by Denise Agnew

  Ronan moved around behind her and nipped her shoulder softly. “Easy. There’s much more. Lean down on your forearms and tilt high.”

  She did as asked, including spreading her legs wide. She could hear his breath sluicing in and out, a testament to his excitement with what they planned to do.

  Seconds later she felt the blunt tip of his cock nudge her anus. Clarissa gasped.

  “Clarissa?”

  She knew what he asked. He needed her permission again, her reassurance. “Please. Do it.”

  His hands grasped her butt cheeks and pulled them apart a little farther. With a small surge he probed and entered a scant inch. A light pinch made her inhale, but no real pain. Excitement made her press back against him, eager for more. A whirling eddy of needs began to emerge inside her, as if that first entry signaled to her body that she was free. Anything she wanted, nothing she couldn’t handle; it would all be hers under this man’s touch.

  Without moving, he reached under and trapped a nipple between his fingers. He pinched and rolled the aroused peak and she writhed back, and another inch of his cock slid into her.

  “That’s it, sweet colleen. Open up to me. Open.”

  As he rolled her nipple, he found her clit and brushed over it. She shook in sublime pleasure as his fingers manipulated her clit and massaged her nipples one after the other in a play of delights. She moved back, wanting another inch of him before he was apparently ready to give it.

  She moaned softly as a shot of pleasure zigzagged into her lower belly as he probed yet another increment. When he pulled back the friction made her gasp. “Oh, yes. Yes.”

  He didn’t stop this time, probing back into her with steady pressure until she felt him filling, stretching her. Then he pulled back, thrust. Pulled back. Pushed. Until he established a steady, measured, but very gentle back and forth motion. He wasn’t going too deep, and Clarissa knew that Ronan understood any more would hurt her this first time.

  As she closed her eyes he tucked his cock back inside, then withdrew. His touch became aggressive on her clit and nipple. Each twist of her nipple, each brush over her clit fired new life into her arousal until she shook and shivered and wanted him to finish her excitement more than she’d wanted anything else they’d ever done together.

  A soft growl left his throat and the primitive sound made her shiver with a delight that matched the incredible sensation of him moving inside her. The friction and his words set her off and she started to shake. As her body built into the strongest climax yet, he quickened his tempo.

  Her mind in a total chaos of ecstasy, she couldn’t stop the whispered pleas coming from her throat. “Please, please, yes, yes.”

  With a growl he burst into climax, and the feeling of his orgasm pouring liquid into her set Clarissa off. As he held tight inside her, Clarissa’s womb seemed to clench and ripple with an earthquake so strong she sobbed a breath. Dizziness assaulted her as the last trembling subsided.

  When he pulled away from her seconds later, he turned her around and drew her down to the bed with him.

  Ronan could barely move let alone think. He wanted her warmth snuggled tight against him for the rest of the night, protected in his arms. The smooth jazz still pulsed in the room.

  Through a haze he tried to recall the last time he’d had sex quite like this and couldn’t remember. He hadn’t slept with a woman since Selima in Morocco and that experienced paled in comparison to the mind-blowing passion he’d experienced in Clarissa’s arms. He’d thought he would never stop coming. His bones felt rattled, his muscles exhausted, his body enraptured by a strange peace. Everything inside him stilled, as if ready for a great revelation. It was, plainly, the best feckin’ sex he’d ever had.

  Power swelled in his immortal blood, his skin, his sinews. Ronan thought he felt his muscles changing in some odd way he couldn’t define. The tightening and releasing in each fiber made his body quake for one second.

  He kept his eyes closed, and he felt her hands searching his face, his shoulders and arms. “You’re trembling.”

  When he opened his eyes, he contemplated her sea blue gaze and saw deep concern. “I’m fine.” He kissed her softly. “I think we could both use some sleep, though.”

  Her breath ruffled against his beard as she nuzzled him, then rested her head on his chest. “Uh-huh.”

  Ronan retreated to the bathroom to clean up. When he returned to the bed he brought her close against him. As tiredness started to take over, he remembered to use his mind to turn off the radio.

  He drifted in a half-awake state of mind even after he noticed she’d fallen asleep. A sense of possession ran through his blood, a stamp on his life. No matter what happened from this moment, there could be no pretending they hadn’t joined in the most erotic, most everlasting act between a man and woman.

  An old worry kept him from sleeping for a time. He wanted to know how this joining would help him defeat the ancient one. What signs should he look for?

  As he lay peering into the night, no answers came.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I could have killed him.

  The ancient one wondered, as he walked through snow along the road not far from Erin Greenway’s home, why he hadn’t finished off Ronan Kieran when he had the chance. He wouldn’t admit that the fight had drained him as well. His feeding, which included an old homeless man holed up in a shack near on the outskirts of town, didn’t quite sustain him. No, a fresh killing before the night extinguished would bring him the power he needed for the next night’s bedlam.

  Yet he couldn’t be happy knowing Ronan Kieran probably walked at this moment. He would have staked him, but he hadn’t acquired silver stakes when he came on this journey to Pine Forest. He hadn’t expected opposition.

  Something else plagued him. Why, if he had acquired the force of the deepest evil in those tunnels…couldn’t he kill the Irish bastard with one sweep of his arm?

  Niggling uncertainty entered his brain. It hit sharp and painful, giving him an uneasy sensation.

  In the meantime, he would get on with the business creating hell on earth, of formulating nightmares for everyone in town. Of course, he wouldn’t turn down a heady draught of human blood if given opportunity, but he must plan for the time to come.

  The Time.

  He would call it that from now on. He thought of horrible events in the world that scarred it for life, the days where a mere mention brought mortals into a sinister place.

  9-11.

  December 7, 1941.

  Perhaps 1066. Doomsday, some had called it.

  He knew people fixated on these days but they eventually faded into memory, until all who’d heard of the event recalled it with the merest hint of emotion.

  One hundred years ago in this little town people had thought the world was coming to an end.

  Now they would think so again.

  Curious, he continued down the road toward the fire turning the sky to molten red and yellow. His smile broadened for a moment before turning into a frown. The evil he’d called upon in the tunnels permeated his undead soul, his seething hatred growing by leaps and bounds. Yet one wicked part of him loathed that malice more dreadful dictated from now on what would occur from this point forward.

  He didn’t like being controlled like at all.

  He might be joined with the darkness that resided under the ground and in the night, but his ego stung. Discomfort wriggled over his undead skin, almost like the goose bumps suffered by mortals.

  A new emotion, or perhaps an old one, crept closer to him. What was it?

  Fear?

  He tried to remember when he’d last been afraid and he couldn’t recall. Perhaps before his immortal life began. But that had been too long ago to remember much about it.

  The strange sensation almost made him want to run and pretend he’d never felt it. Because if he did it might mean something odd, something horrible could happen to him.

  How can it? I am the one they all fear. Every
vampire on earth knows of me, respects my power. When Pine Forest is consumed in the fire of its own greed and hate, I will have another hellfire notch to add to my legend.

  Again the discomfort niggled at the back of his mind.

  Sharp pain shuddered through his midsection and he fell to his knees in the snow. It was as if…as if the fight he’d had with Ronan Kieran actually did damage. Another jolt of electrified misery tore through his head and he fell onto the snow bank by the road. As he lay in the snow, he closed his eyes and rode out an agony so acute he considered screaming.

  No.

  No.

  This never happened.

  Each stinging jolt defied all pains he’d experienced his entire mortal and immortal life. Bewildered, he allowed the sizzling pain to lurch through him. Whatever happened, he would endure.

  Then the voice came to him.

  You are not the utmost. You are not the power, the voice said. My iniquity supersedes all others. And you will obey.

  “Who are you?” he asked through a tight throat.

  A laugh edged through his mind like knife cutting into cheese. You sought me in the tunnels and brought me into your body. I am you but I am not.

  The ancient one realized then, with astounding lucidity, how much he’d given up to absorb the greater evil.

  Again the voice commanded, and the pain started to ebb. You will obey or be destroyed. You will comply or suffer.

  He waited for more instruction but nothing came. That which possessed him went silent.

  Shrugging off the aberration, the ancient one proceeded. Shaken but not broken, he refused to acknowledge what had happened.

  He smiled as he came to the road where fire trucks and police cars congregated. An old structure, its skeleton smoldering and smoking, caught his attention. Not entirely satisfied with the mayhem he felt building around him, he decided more must be accomplished.

  * * * * *

  The light went on next to the bed and a warm touch gripped Ronan’s right shoulder. “Ronan?”

  The soft voice belonged to the gorgeous woman he’d fucked into oblivion less then a few hours ago. Clarissa’s fingers smoothed over his back in a comforting caress. He shivered under her palm. Tenderness and fierce protectiveness welled inside him. He drew Clarissa down on the bed and hovered over her.

  He buried his face in her throat and slid his lips down the long, white column. As she shivered he knew he’d given her a tiny taste of what he could do to her. She thought what they’d done earlier was extreme. She hadn’t seen anything yet.

  “You all right?” he asked.

  “Yes. I’m sorry I woke you. I had a bad dream.”

  He brushed stray hair away from her face. “I’m sorry about the dream.”

  “I don’t even remember what it was about now I’m awake.”

  He savored looking at her breasts with their rounded curves and rosy nipples. He could almost taste her on his tongue. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are? Because I’m going to tell you again. You’re the sweetest, toughest, sexiest woman I’ve ever known.”

  Her brows pinched together. “I wish I could believe that. You’ve known dozens of women across seven hundred years.”

  “Shhh.” He pressed a half dozen kisses across her forehead, her nose, her cheeks and chin. “Don’t doubt yourself. From the first moment I saw you I felt fierce attraction.”

  Her eyes widened and she smiled broadly. “Oh, was that what that was?”

  “Okay. Attraction is a mild word for it. I wanted to fuck you right there in the graveyard.”

  “That’s kinky.”

  “It could be.”

  “Some would say sleeping with a vampire is insane.”

  He expected her to laugh, but instead her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. Her lower lip trembled just a little. That satiny curve tempted him to sin.

  She cupped his face with one hand and slid her palm over his beard. “I can’t believe this is happening. It doesn’t seem entirely real. You’re a vampire and I just made love with you. It’s amazing and incredible and totally unbelievable.”

  “Think of me as just a man.”

  She rolled her gaze to the ceiling, then tested the muscles in his shoulders. “Right. You just made love to me for longer than any man ever has.” A flush spread over her cheekbones. “I mean…you’re supernatural, Ronan. No man I’ve been with has ever been able to manage that many thrusts for that—”

  She gulped as her face turned more crimson.

  He laughed, glad the tears had left. “Remember what I told you about vampires while we were stuck in the elevator? That we can fuck as long as long as it takes to get a woman off?”

  Her nose was cherry red now. “Yes.”

  “That we can draw a woman’s orgasms out and give her dozens at one session?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you know what we did earlier was just a start.”

  She shook her head, looking amazed. “I don’t believe it.”

  “Well, believe it.” When silence settled over them, he looked deep into her eyes.

  “I have a strange question.” One of her eyebrows quirked up. “Well, maybe it isn’t a strange question. I thought vampires drank blood during sexual arousal.”

  He couldn’t blame her for asking. “Sometimes they do. Disciplined ones who aren’t interested in hurting mortals don’t bite them on the neck.”

  “Oh.” The quiet syllable sounded amazed.

  “You wondered why I didn’t bite you during sex.”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  “Because I’ve had centuries of practice at not biting.”

  “Would you ever bite again?”

  He brushed his fingers over her cheekbone then down to her chin. “I don’t know. Sure, and it’s very dangerous for a vampire to try and stop once he’s taken blood from a mortal.”

  “Yet the ancient one did when he bit Lachlan, Micky, and Jared.”

  “More by accident than design. They were lucky. Their blood must have been rich and thick enough to satisfy him. It surprised me when they survived the attacks. You know how many people have died in this town since this mayhem started at the beginning of the month.”

  He remembered too well the fright in her face mixed with defiance on the first night he’d met her. She would be a worthy opponent for any vampire, but he didn’t want her within ten feet of the ancient one.

  She yawned and wriggled against him slightly. Her skin slid over his with sensuous results. A jolt of lust heated his body like a firestorm. His cock spiked into one of the most intense hard-ons he could remember having.

  Shit. She would drive him insane.

  The serene, trusting softness in her exquisite face drove him mad with need. He could barely keep from parting her thighs now and plunging deep inside. He knew she had to feel his cock against her, almost begging—hell, almost whining for entrance.

  A tiny smile hit her lips. “Come inside.”

  “What?”

  With gentle urging, she brought him over her. He melted with pure pleasure as he realized what she wanted, and he couldn’t help but smile. Without hesitation he touched his cock to her soft creamy slickness, then pushed. When he rested fully inside her, he wanted to shout with joy. She felt amazingly hot and wet wrapped around him. With a staggering jolt he acknowledged heaven was anywhere he could be with her, inside her. Her eyes widened as he looked down on Clarissa, their blue structure drawing him down, down into a sea storm. Sensations lifted him up and away from thought and into the corporeal.

  Instead of moving inside her, he licked across one nipple with slow, sweet consideration. One lap, two—he tasted her like she was the most exclusive delicacy. With one slow taste, he drew her nipple deep into his mouth, then feathered it with his tongue. She arched against him, moving her hips, but he refused to thrust. Instead he kept his cock buried high inside her and continued the torture of his slow, slow licking. He pulled a nipple deep between his lips, then suckled. On
and on he licked, going from one nipple to the other with agonizing attention. He gently cupped one breast, then twisted the aroused nub. Moments later he settled in to suck hard and long while he tweaked the other nipple between thumb and finger.

  Moans caught low in her throat and broke free as he devoured her breasts. When he felt her wet tightness start to clench around him, to shiver with approaching climax, his hips moved into a measured thrust. Push deep, pull away, push until his balls were tucked up against her buttocks, drawing out until just the tip of his cock remained inside her. He moved his hips in a stirring rhythm and she moaned each time he pulled back, then sank deep.

  She came with a harsh inward breath as her silken walls tightened over his cock. Her eyes fluttered shut and her lips parted as her body gripped his. Her entire body quaked as a low gasp left her.

  Music seemed to sing in his head, the gentle voice of an angel calling him to dance with her in the most ancient ritual of man and woman merging as one. Divinity resided in this motion, in the way he discovered light within her. Ronan continued his need for her, unwilling to let her body take his seed just yet. Although he could never have children with Clarissa, he ached for what couldn’t be. He wanted to make a child with her with fierce need.

  What would it be like for her genes to mix with his? To share in the generation of something new that only the two of them could create?

  Tasting her lips, he kissed her thoroughly, willing to prove she belonged to him. With deep, stabbing thrusts he made another claim on her, one that any other vampire could detect. Unrelenting and without mercy his body danced inside her, worshiped her body as a holy place.

  He felt the snarl rising in his throat as he jammed high inside her one last time and all restraint within him broke apart. He roared and spilled inside her. With a ragged sigh of satisfaction, he rolled to the side and brought her into his arms.

  She glanced at the bedside table. “Nine o’clock.”

  “I have to get up. I can’t believe I even slept at night. That doesn’t happen often for me.”

  “Just after you’ve had sex?”