“Max?” she whispered, as she stared into his rich hazel eyes. Reality began to register and she vaguely remembered passing out.
“Yes,” he said softly, his voice full of gentle comfort that so contrasted with the strength in his masculine features, in the powerful body holding her. He rested against the headboard, legs stretched out in front of him, shirt off, his bare chest cradling her body. “I’m here.”
She shivered, and he rubbed her arm, tugging the blanket over her. “Are you cold?”
“No.” Not anymore. Not with him here, holding her, somehow making the nightmare fade when nothing else would. “I had a nightmare.” She leaned up on an elbow, taking in the surroundings, trying to remember how she got in bed. She was dressed but her shoes were off. The room was dimly lit, only a small corner lamp on; a glance at the window confirmed night had fallen.
She swallowed hard. “You took care of me.” Then another thought followed before she could digest that one. “How long was I out? Did we call for help? The sheriff and Edward—are they okay?” Her mind was racing now. Max was hurt! What if he’d looked out for her and waited too long for care? “Oh, God! You need a doctor.”
She tried to yank back the blanket and sit up to inspect his injuries, but Max pulled her back down; her chest was pressed to his side, one of his legs grabbing hers and pulling it beneath him, holding her in place. Shock mixed with pure fire surged through her body.
“Max!” she objected, confused by his actions. “What are you doing?” His mouth was close to hers, the air crackling with tension—charged with sexual energy, with attraction—but there was more there, too. She tried to identify the feeling. Apprehension perhaps?
“Everything is in order,” he said. “You slept for six hours. My people have gone to Nowhere to offer aid, and they’re researching the Shadow Masters. They will protect your team. I promise.”
She would have felt relief, but for the look of tension on Max’s face. A fizzle of fear raced through her and started to spin out of control. Her hands dug into his arm. “What’s wrong? Just tell me. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing that wasn’t wrong when you went to sleep,” Max said.
“I don’t believe you,” she whispered vehemently. “Tell me.”
He shut his eyes and his torment washed over her. Suddenly, Sarah felt his sorrow, his pain. The connection she shared with him was so intense, so alive, it was almost as if he moved inside her. She’d never felt anything like this with another person. Nothing remotely close.
Her hand went to his jaw. “Max?” she softly prodded. “Talk to me.”
“I need to show you something, but I need to know you won’t freak out on me. I’m not like other people, Sarah. I don’t want you to be afraid of me.” Fear fluttered in her chest and she stiffened ever so slightly. After that nightmare, the unknown set her on edge. Max didn’t, though, she reminded herself. Max calmed and comforted her. He needed acceptance now, too, she realized. Just as she often wanted acceptance, but rarely found it from those around her. And, my God, the man had saved her life several times already. He deserved her support.
She wanted to be there for him as he had been for her when she’d collapsed. “I understand being different. I live it each day of my life.”
His throat bobbed. “Not like me, Sarah.” He hesitated and then yanked the sheets back and exposed his bare abdominals.
Sarah blinked and blinked again. She couldn’t be seeing what she thought she was seeing. His wound had disappeared, healed completely. He reached out and took her hand, pressing it to his stomach, the touch intimate, and packed with a punch. Heat darted up her arm and then coiled low in her stomach.
Her fingers itched to move and explore while her mind warned of her need for answers. “How can this be?”
“When you collapsed you were in a great deal of pain. I was desperate to take away your pain. I summoned Marisol. She is special, Sarah. She heals by touch. She eased your pain and helped you rest. Then, she took care of me. Hopefully, she’s aided the sheriff and Edward by now, as well.”
“I don’t even remember her being here,” Sarah said, frightened that so much was going on out of her control. Errors happened when she didn’t keep things well under thumb. People died. But then, if what Max said was true, maybe people had been saved—her people. The sheriff. “When will we know if she helped them?”
“Soon I hope,” he said, but offered nothing more, his attention turning back to the prior conversation. “My world is different from yours, Sarah.” Something in his voice drew her gaze to his. “I’m not like other humans.” His hand flattened on hers with more force. “But I need you to know I am one of the good guys. I’ll fight to my death to protect you. I won’t leave you to deal with this challenge alone.” More conviction slid into his voice. “I won’t.”
For the first time in years, Sarah trusted someone at their word. She looked into Max’s tormented eyes, and she let herself be lost. Lost to him, to the moment, to the whirlwind of emotions taking hold of her. She wanted him as she had never wanted a man, beyond reason, beyond explanation. The world was crumbling only a few miles away, but for just the briefest of times, she wanted to escape, to pretend nothing existed but the two of them.
“I believe you,” she whispered, her body turning toward his, her hand sliding from beneath his, to the sprinkle of dark hair on his chest.
Max felt the brush of Sarah’s lips on his and it was all he could do to remain still, to hold back. But he had to hold back. Had to. If he dared to explore where this could lead, he risked breaking the promise he’d just made. Because attached to him, mated to him, she would not be protected. She would share his destiny, his potential hell.
“Sarah—”
She pressed a finger to his lips. “Don’t talk. I need you, Max. Make love to me.”
Her mouth pressed to his, her tongue sliding past his lips, inviting him into a seductive game, dangerous and enticing, impossible to resist. Neither man nor Beast had enough willpower.
Suddenly, Max was kissing her, passion exploding within him, the completeness of his desire for this woman, his mate, consuming him at all levels—heart, soul, body. His fingers laced through her hair, her taste as addictive as her touch. And she was definitely touching him, showing no hesitation to explore his body. Her hands were everywhere, fingers tracing his muscles with tantalizing results, her leg over his, as his had been over hers earlier. As if she was the one who feared he would escape. But the only escape he wanted was inside her, his body intimately bound to hers. She was the sweetest thing life had ever given him, and for this one night, he was going to be strong enough to enjoy her without losing control.
“Max,” Sarah whispered, easing her body on top of his, straddling his hips, the V of her body teasing his groin, thickening his cock. His hands gripped her hips, pressing her more firmly against him, pelvis lifting upward.
She moaned and pulled her blood-stained shirt—stained with his blood from when she’d taken care of him—over her head. The thought warmed him for an instant before fading away, as Sarah tossed her bra to the floor and leaned forward, pressing her chest to his chest, skin intimately touching skin.
Her lips lingered above his, her nipples pebbled against him. “I meant what I said earlier,” she said, her voice barely audible.
“Which was what?” he asked, having a hard time remembering anything beyond the present, his hands skimming the softness of her bare back, to ease up her sides.
“I don’t make a habit of getting naked with strangers.”
He brushed the sides of her breasts and she moaned. “We might have only just met, Sarah,” he murmured, his lips caressing hers for a quick moment, fingers sliding around the lush fullness of her breasts to tease her nipples. “But we aren’t strangers.” His teeth tugged on her bottom lip ever so gently. “Haven’t you figured that out by now?”
She didn’t immediately respond. Their breathing mingled, the air crackling with sensual tension. Slowly
, Sarah eased back a bit, staring down at him, her eyes heavy with passion, with questions. “I’ve never felt this before.”
He didn’t ask what she meant by this because he understood. “That makes two of us,” Max replied, his voice leaden with desire, with tenderness he hadn’t known he possessed. But as quickly as that tenderness had consumed him, so did other, darker emotions.
Primal instincts flared inside Max, pushing him to take Sarah, driving him to claim. The need to control the pace, to control Sarah’s actions rang in his mind as important. He couldn’t risk her taking him beyond the place where man contained beast. If Sarah pressed him over the edge, he might not make it back. There was no option—he had to dominate. Had to control.
Max responded to the growing demands of his beast, rolling Sarah onto her back, spreading her legs as he had back at the inn, and settling between them. The beast clawed at him, making its presence known, but Max suppressed it, dominated, pressed it back into the deep depths of his soul. He’d fought his darker side for centuries, and he would fight it now. Control belonged to the man, not the beast.
His mouth closed down on Sarah’s softer one, as he forced himself to be gentle, to reach inside to calm himself. But that kiss quickly went from tender to fiery hot. Their tongues tangled in a seductive dance that turned into a full body sway. The kiss he’d meant to help him slow down, to put restraint in place, simply wasn’t enough to satisfy either of them.
“I want you, Max,” Sarah announced against his lips, fingers entwined in his hair, urgency lacing her words. “All of you.” She reached between their bodies and slid her fingers over his erection before working his zipper with no success. “Take them off.”
He hesitated, wanting this, but aware he was about to cross into the land of no return. This was where his willpower would be stretched, his limits strained.
“Now, Max,” she ordered, her voice lifting.
Her demands drew laughter from him when he’d never have believed that possible. Not when he felt this depth of passion, not with the beast so close to the surface. No woman had ever done that to him, but Sarah could. Sarah was special. He nipped her lips. “You’re very bossy.”
She didn’t laugh, but her eyes sparkled with mischief. “You haven’t seen anything yet,” she countered. “Now, get rid of the pants.”
His cock pulsed with those words. Sarah had this knack for being both sweet and sexy, meek and powerful, all in one moment. It got him hotter than hot.
Max brushed his lips over hers. “Your wish is my command,” he replied, pushing off the bed to stand and undoing the button on his pants. He would have demanded she undress, but she was already doing it; the sight of her jeans sliding down her legs, panties in tow, stilled his actions. She was beautiful, her silky white skin a direct contrast to the ripe red of her aroused nipples, her breasts high and full, stomach flat, hips rounded with womanly curves.
“What’s taking so long?” she asked, easing toward him on her knees until she stopped directly in front of him. “And please tell me you have a condom packed in one of those pockets.”
“Old battle injury,” he said, his eyes tracking the hard peeks of her nipples, the lift of her full breasts. “I shoot blanks.”
“Really?” she asked, surprise in her voice.
“Disappointed?” he asked, watching for her reaction his chest tightening as he realized he could never give her a normal life. No kids, no white picket fence.
Her response came quickly. “Not at all,” she said, smiling, her gaze sliding up and down his body. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”
Max sensed no remorse in her, no loss at the implications of his words. “You’re perfect,” he told her, meaning it. Her body was perfect, but even more so, she was perfect. Perfect for him.
Her hand went to his zipper again but this time with success. Together they shoved his pants and boxers down his legs. Max made quick work of kicking away his clothing, thankful his boots were long gone.
Before he knew her intent, Sarah’s soft touch closed around his erection, stealing his breath with the bold action. And with that touch any hope he had of keeping their joining on his terms slid to oblivion, and he didn’t give a damn. Sarah leaned into him and tilted her mouth up in an invitation, and he devoured her with greedy pleasure.
He ravished her with his kiss, tasting her deeply, his tongue growing more demanding with each stroke of her hand along his hard length. When he thought he could take no more, Max reached for restraint by claiming control. He filled his hands with her breasts, thumbing her nipples, before pressing her back onto the mattress. Leaning over her, he lapped at her nipples, teasing them with his tongue and teeth, licking and tasting. She moaned, arching her back, murmuring his name with raspy sensuality. So sexy, so alluring. The sound pressed him further to the edge, made him see fire and heat and possessiveness.
For a fleeting moment, he considered lifting her legs over his shoulders and sliding inside her, keeping their bodies distant, his mouth away from the temptation of marking her. But another second flashed by and he couldn’t bear moving away from her, couldn’t bear separating skin from skin. One instant he was lapping at her nipples, the next he was sliding his cock along the silky wet core of her body, seeking entrance. He sunk into the warm, wet heat that pulled him into the depths of blind passion—passion born of the joining of two mates. Their mutual sighs filled the room as he hit her core, a tantalizing sound of merging pleasures.
His forehead settled against hers, and he drew a shaky breath, emotion rushing over him, a feeling of belonging with Sarah. Their lips lingered close, their bodies intimately joined, unmoving. His chest was tight, his body on fire. He leaned back to look in her eyes, seeking the confirmation that she felt what he did and finding it. Their gazes held and locked, the contact intensifying the connection, the love shared naturally by mates radiating between them. He ran a gentle finger down her cheek and whispered her name. She took his hand in hers and brought it to her lips. Their stares fired into desire, and what was softness and sensuality turned red-hot, combustible.
Suddenly, they were kissing, bodies moving, rocking, swaying. He wanted to go slow, wanted to explore, linger, enjoy what might be the only time he’d ever make love to Sarah. But he couldn’t slow down; he couldn’t hold back. She was driving him crazy with need. Her body arched into him, her legs wrapping around his thighs to get closer, higher, pull him deeper.
Max thrust into her, harder, faster, and with the build of passion, with the build of release, the beast grew stronger. He felt it, but he couldn’t seem to stop moving, couldn’t seem to hold back. Sarah. He simply had to have more, had to get deeper. Had to touch her breasts, her hips, her face, her hair. All of her. Any of her. He simply had to have her. Long minutes passed, their lovemaking intense, passionate.
“Max,” she gasped between moans, arching into him and stiffening.
He knew she was about to climax and he wanted her pleasure, wanted it as he’d never wanted another woman’s pleasure. He kissed her jaw, her lips, her nose. “Come for me, baby,” he urged.
“I’m, oh, I’m—” She lost the words as her body erupted in spasms that grabbed at his cock with erotic pressure, tantalizing and explosive. In that moment of pure, white-hot pleasure, Max’s teeth elongated, his willpower dissolving. Damn it. Knights only had fangs during mating. He knew this but he’d been sure he could stop it from happening, been sure that centuries of suppressing the beast wouldn’t fail him now.
He buried his face in the bed by her neck, fighting the urge to sink his teeth into her shoulder. No! The beast didn’t listen. The beast wanted Sarah. Demanded her. He just needed one taste of her. One. Taste.
No! He screamed the word in his head over and over. No!
Max fought the primal urge to claim, fought it with other desires, with the burn of his body’s need for release. He plunged deeper into her core, thrusting harder—thrusting faster. But it wasn’t enough. The beast kept him on the edge, unable
to find completion, wanting him to take more than pleasure. If he didn’t find release soon, he’d lose the battle with the beast; he would lose control. He was close to the edge, close to explosion. He just needed a little deeper. Needed to move a little faster.
Desperate, Max raised up on his hands and plunged hard and deep. Once. Twice. And there it was, there was relief, control, satisfaction. He spilled himself inside the depths of her core, her heat consuming him, shaking with the intensity of orgasm. But in that moment, he also forgot those fangs, forgot the monster that passion had brought to life.
Suddenly Sarah’s sigh of satisfaction became a scream. Max had shown her the beast within himself, and there was no way to hide the truth.
Chapter 14
“Get off me!” Sarah screamed, her heart about to explode out of her chest. Max had fangs. Fangs! She’d let her guard down and been fooled. She never let down her guard. Not since the day a friend had turned demon and killed her family.
Max held her, his big body still on top of hers; good God, he was still inside her. “Wait. Sarah. Please.”
“No!” She kicked and squirmed, but found movement near impossible. Grinding her teeth, she stared up at him. “Let me up.”
“Not until you hear me out,” he said. “I told you I’m different. I tried to explain before…before we made love.”
“Had sex! Just sex!” she shouted, refusing the feelings she had for him. She kicked some more. He grunted and rolled off of her.
Sarah grabbed the sheet and yanked it around her body, turning to square off with him. “Who are you, Max? What are you?”
“I mean you no harm, Sarah,” he said, standing there naked and glorious, his big body powerfully male. “I know you feel that. I know you trust me.”
“How can I?” she asked. “How?” But the truth was, even now, she wanted to. Desperately, Sarah prayed Max would give her a reason to make those fangs not matter. But how could he? What would make this better? Nothing. Nothing at all, and damn, it hurt. His betrayal, her past, her life—it all hurt. So she did all she ever knew how to do when that pain bit into her. She pushed back. “My parents were killed by a friend we trusted who was possessed by a demon. You want me to trust a man who tells me he fights demons and then shows signs of being one himself? Tell me how I can do that? Tell me! I’d be a fool to trust you. I was a fool once in my life, and that cost me everything. How can I trust you? Tell me that. How?”
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