by Larissa Ione
He didn’t give a shit. Not when Nicole straddled his thighs and sank her fangs into his neck. He shouted at the searing bliss, and somewhere in his lust-soaked brain, he remembered to be thankful that she’d remembered to activate the pleasure glands.
Awkwardly, he shifted his legs out from under him. She moaned as he moved, rubbing her sex against his erection. The decent thing to do, given their last argument, would be to tell Nicole to relax, to take the blood but ignore the lust.
But he’d never been decent, so when she reached under the waistband of his pajamas and took his cock in her palm, he gasped. “Oh, fuck, yeah.”
She writhed on his lap as she stroked him in her tight fist to the rhythm of her mouth sucking on his vein. So good. So. Damned. Good.
An urgent whimper broke from her chest as she picked up the pace, grinding hard against him.
“Nicole,” he moaned. “You have to take off your pants. Stop feeding—”
She growled, a basic, primitive sound he’d heard from wolves whose food was threatened.
“It’ll only be for a second,” he assured her. “You can take my vein again as soon as you’re naked.”
With a pure animal snarl, she pulled back and tore at her jeans. Damn, she was beautiful in her frenzy, as wild as the wolf he’d compared her to. As she shimmied out of her jeans, her hair fell in untamed waves around her shoulders, and her lips, swollen and red, were parted just enough to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of snow-white fangs.
He strained at his chains, knowing that if he were free, he’d be on her and in her in about half a heartbeat.
“Stand up.” He met her fevered gaze. “Straddle my thighs. Let me put my mouth on you.”
“Yes,” she rasped as she shoved to her feet.
Her long, toned legs gave way to a delicate, plump mound covered by pale strawberry curls. She planted one foot on either side of his thighs, putting her core right where he wanted it.
“Closer,” he murmured, tilting his face up to meet her flesh as she scooted forward. His mouth watered for her, his body ached for her, and the moment his tongue slipped between her pillowed folds, they both groaned.
With the fervent appetite of a male who had gone far too long without a female to love, he licked at her, swirling his tongue around her swollen nub and then sucking, drinking in her sweet juices. He swallowed and licked, working her into a fit of impassioned mewls that made his blood pound in his ears.
“There,” she said on a strangled gasp.
She pumped against his mouth, taking what she wanted, and damn, he’d never seen anything so sexy in his life. Suddenly, she went rigid and let out a strangled cry. He dragged the flat of his tongue through her slit slowly, wanting to make this last, but she would have none of it. She dropped to her knees, sank her teeth into his vein, and sat down hard on his cock.
“Christ!” he shouted. Her slick heat surrounded him, hotter than the times they’d made love before. Her new vampire body was stronger, faster, more flexible, and she was using all of it.
Her fingers dug into his shoulders as she rose up until the tip of his cock nearly broke free of her body, and then plunged down, driving him deep inside her. Taking long, hard pulls on his vein, she did it again, faster, then faster still, until her hips were hammering into his. She let out a throaty moan that undid him.
His balls tightened and pulsed, and his molten rush pumped into her. He roared her name over and over as the endless waves of euphoria poured over him. She bucked, her entire body clenched around his, and her climax took her.
“Nicole,” he whispered. “That’s it, baby.” He arched his back as best he could, meeting her brutal thrusts.
She jerked, biting down hard. He bore the pain with pride, thinking he’d be happy to go through that every day.
Gradually, she eased up, pulling her teeth free. He smiled at the soothing stroke of her tongue over the bite wound. Either Myne had taught her well, or the instinct was strong in her. He’d made a dozen mistakes before his healing instinct kicked in.
She slumped against him with a sigh. He wished he could wrap his arms around her.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered against his chest.
“For what?” Man, his voice was shot to shit.
She shifted, and his cock slipped from her warmth. “Attacking you. Using you like that.”
“Are you kidding?” He inhaled a choppy breath, wondering how long it would take to recover. She’d used him well. “That’s pretty normal.”
What wasn’t normal was how powerful his orgasm had been. Or how many emotions she’d stirred up. And wait, had the word love actually gone through his head? Yes, he thought it had.
He waited for the remorse over Terese’s life and death to descend like a wet shroud. Nothing. For some reason, the absence of the guilt bothered him. He’d been so filled by it for so long that he felt almost . . . bereft. As if the guilt had been a limb. A cancerous limb, maybe, but something that was useful nonetheless.
It had kept him primed for revenge. It had ensured he kept his mind focused and his fighting skills sharp, because the only thing he had to live for was making things right for Terese.
“Normal?” Nicole nuzzled the curve between his neck and shoulder. “Wow.”
Well, not completely normal, at least, not for him. Sex with Nicole the last time had easily been the most amazing sex he’d ever had. But this . . . this blew the last encounter away. “Welcome to the new world.”
Lazily, as if she was ready for a nap, she pushed back to look at him with heavy-lidded eyes. “It won’t happen again. When I get back to MoonBound, I’ll arrange for a moon partner.”
So much for the warm fuzzy feeling. “Like hell you will.”
“We’re not doing this again, are we?” She sighed. “I can’t be with you like this.”
“This,” he growled, “was pretty damned great.”
“And it would be great in your chambers. In your bed. Right?”
He hesitated, once again waiting for the insane guilt to take him in its jaws and shred him to pieces. The brief delay cost him.
“That’s what I thought,” she said coldly. “You should probably know that I stayed in your chambers during my transformation. With Myne. In your bed.”
A white-hot poker of fury impaled him from the top of his head to the base of his spine. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because the world didn’t end, Riker. Terese’s ghost didn’t come slay either one of us.” She put her hand directly over his heart. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I love you. I’m not sure I would have made it through the turn if I hadn’t been surrounded by your scent. When I was hurting and delirious, I thought you were there with me, and I fought to stay.” She locked her gaze with his. “So yes, I love you, but I’ve lived my entire life connected to a company that didn’t want or need me. I won’t do that again. We’ll always be connected because you turned me. But what you and I want are two different things.”
The anger drained abruptly, leaving in its place a feeling of dread and a strange burn near his hip bone. “Nicole, I want you.”
“You want parts of me. You want what’s in my veins and between my legs,” she said, and he kicked himself for making her believe that. “I’m not judging you, and believe me, it’s tempting to settle for what you’re willing to give. But I’m worth more than that. I’ve thrown off the Daedalus shackles, but if you can’t do the same with Terese, if you can’t look at me without seeing a Martin who destroyed your life, we have nowhere to go but our separate ways.” Standing, she shoved her feet into her jeans, and he was helpless to stop her. “I’d better go. The females I dosed will be starting to come into the supply-closet-slash-lab for some tests. You’re going to be taken to Hunter now.”
“I’m not leaving. Not until you do. We need to talk, Nicole.” The burn at his hip intensified, and he shifted to get comfortable.
“We just did, and we’ve been through this,” she said, sounding tired. �
��I need you to go. If I’m worried about you, I can’t work.” Reaching up, she pinched the bridge of her nose as if trying to stave off a headache. “Please.”
As much as he hated the idea of leaving her here alone, he didn’t want to jeopardize her work or her chances of getting out of here as soon as possible.
“I’ll leave the compound,” he agreed. “But I won’t go far.”
“I’d rather you went back to MoonBound.”
“I don’t know what gave you the impression that you have any say in it,” he said, throwing her words from earlier back at her.
She cocked an eyebrow. “Touché.” Pivoting, she headed toward the door.
A stabbing sensation joined the burn, and seriously, what the fuck? He glanced down, sure someone had jammed a red-hot needle into his lower abdomen. But no, there was some sort of reddish marking. He craned his neck a little more, and . . . oh, damn.
A feather had been carved into his skin. The Mark of the Crow. Or the Mark of the Raven, if the individual subscribed to that particular canon. Riker had never truly believed in the vampire superstitions, legends, and hokum so many of his kind—especially the oldest and born vampires—subscribed to, but now that he was experiencing this, he might have to reconsider his stance.
Because as he stared at the glyph setting into his skin, its lines growing darker and more distinct, there was no mistaking the fact that he hadn’t put it there. There was definitely no mistaking what it was: the mating mark all males both feared and wanted.
Nicole paused at the doorway, but she didn’t turn to look at him. “Please don’t worry. I’ll be okay.”
He jerked, the mark forgotten. He’d heard those words before.
Riker couldn’t help but feel that this was Terese all over again. He was leaving Nicole with the enemy, just like he’d left Terese, who had also assured him she’d be okay.
The difference was that this time, he not only loved the female he was about to lose . . . he’d imprinted on her.
OF ALL THE things ShadowSpawn had done to Riker, being blindfolded and dragged from his cell to Hunter’s camp several miles away sucked the most. Having his skin scraped off during the drag wasn’t even the worst of it. No, what Riker hated was being blind.
The way the other senses became overly acute made him too reactive and combative, so by the time the ShadowSpawn goons dumped him at Hunter’s feet, he was a mass of lacerations, abrasions, and contusions, and he was pretty sure his nose had been broken by a couple of different fists.
After a brief wait that included a lot of harsh words and kick in the ribs, someone unlocked the chains around his ankles and wrists. He bounded to his feet and ripped the blindfold from his eyes.
They were at the edge of a moonlit clearing, with MoonBound’s warriors flanking the meadow, weapons drawn, bows trained on ShadowSpawn’s males. Whatever confrontation had taken place while Riker was blindfolded and on the ground was over, and as he rolled his shoulders to ease the aches, the enemy clan disappeared into the shadows that gave them their name.
Hunter, wearing only camo pants and boots despite the fact that the scent of coming snow was in the air, pulled Riker into a rare, and awkward, embrace. “Good to have you back and in one piece.” Stepping back, he revised his initial impression. “Mostly one piece. I think you left some bits of yourself behind.”
“Always good to see you, too, Hunt,” Riker muttered. He lifted his hand in greeting to the warriors and their mystic-keeper standing silently in the forest. “Where’s Myne?”
Riker owed the guy a lot of thanks and a lifetime of debt. Riker might have lost his shit to jealousy a few times, but he’d always known Myne had his back.
“Your guess is as good as mine.” Hunter gestured for Riker to walk with him toward camp. “He came with us, but . . . you know.”
Yeah, Riker knew. Myne wasn’t one to hang out with Hunter, and he definitely didn’t like to spend any amount of time with a group. No doubt he was nearby, but he wouldn’t be trading ghost stories and making s’mores around a campfire anytime soon.
Or anytime ever.
Hunter adjusted the weapon belt that crossed over his bare chest. The guy had always been more comfortable in battle when he felt unrestricted. Riker was surprised he wasn’t barefoot, too. “Did you see Nicole?”
Riker nodded. “Why did you let her make that idiotic trade?”
“Have you even met her?” Hunter said wryly. “She was going to do it whether I let her or not.” That was probably true. The stubborn female. For some reason, that thought made him smile. “And I hate to say it, but it was a good idea with little risk. If she pulls it off, her company will have actually done some good. Accidentally, but I’ll take it.”
Right now, Riker didn’t give a shit about what Nicole was doing for the sake of the vampire population. He just wanted her back. “I can’t leave her with them.”
Closing his eyes, Hunter turned his face up to the stars. “I was afraid you were going to say that.” He lowered his head and pegged Riker with eyes as black as the sky. “You always were loyal to a fault.”
“It’s more than that.” Riker pushed down the waistband of the shredded pajama pants and exposed the crimson wing above his pelvic bone.
“Oh . . . damn.” An owl hooted in the distance, distracting Hunter for a heartbeat. “Is that a good thing?”
Good? It could be, but given their last encounter, it could also be a disaster. “I love her.”
“But?” Hunter asked. Riker must have made “I love her” sound like a total downer.
“She doesn’t know.” Riker jammed his hand through his hair. “Fuck me, I didn’t know until today. All this time, I’ve been so hung up on Terese and everything that happened to her.” An ache pounded inside his chest, right behind his sternum. “I thought I was getting over it, but when Bastien came, the hell he went through brought up all that shit again.”
“Let me guess.” Hunter paused to signal Jaggar and Baddon, and the two melted into the forest for a routine patrol. The mystic-keeper, Sabre, rubbed herbs together in his hands and began to reinforce the defensive wards he would have set up around the camp. “You wanted Nicole but couldn’t commit because of who her family is, what they did to Terese and Bastien, and because she was human. How am I doing so far?”
Right on target. “Like an arrowhead between the eyes,” Riker admitted.
“So you finally got over yourself and decided you can commit, but now that she’s a vampire and you’ve imprinted on her, if you tell her you love her, she’ll think you only want her because she’s no longer human and because of the imprint.”
Clearly, Hunter had a better grasp on the situation than Riker did, and he nodded sullenly. “After the way I treated her before she turned, she’s not going to believe I’d have wanted her even if things hadn’t changed.”
Hunter considered that. Finally, he shrugged. “Dude, you’re screwed.”
“Thank you, Chief,” Riker said flatly, “for stating the fucking obvious.”
Hunter shrugged. “I should have been a relationship therapist or some shit.”
Sarcasm aside, Hunter did have a point. Riker was screwed. There was no way Nicole was going to look past the imprint and think he’d want her if he weren’t biologically linked to her. He’d kicked her out of his bedroom, for fuck’s sake.
Maybe he could beg for her forgiveness. He considered the idea but rejected it almost immediately. Even if she forgave him for his idiocy, she would always in the back of her mind wonder if the imprint was the reason for his apology and attention.
Somehow he had to convince her that he loved her and that it had nothing to do with the fact that she was no longer human and he was imprinted.
The answer struck him like one of Hunter’s uppercuts, leaving him stunned and a little shaken. In order to win Nicole, he was going to have to take a huge risk, and while he’d always been comfortable gambling with his life, this was different. This time, he wasn’t just putting h
is life on the line; he was jeopardizing his sanity and his heart.
NICOLE SPENT THE next twenty-four hours in hell. ShadowSpawn’s massive complex was filthy and dark, and those who lived in it were suspicious and brutish. The males had little respect for females, and while the females didn’t appear to be abused and they certainly didn’t shrink away from confrontation, they were definitely treated like second-class citizens.
She couldn’t wait to get back to MoonBound, but first, she had to analyze the remaining fifteen pregnancy tests from the nineteen females who had taken the conception mixture she’d created.
Well, nineteen . . . plus herself.
Anxiety fluttered through her at the unlikely possibility that she could be carrying Riker’s child. So far, of the five tests she’d checked, only one popped positive. Yes, a 20 percent success rate, especially in a race that rarely conceived, was fabulous, but it also meant that the chances that she wasn’t pregnant were pretty good.
Her hand shook as she used a clean syringe to draw blood from a vial she’d taken from a pureblooded female named White Fox and injected it just under the skin on Fane’s broad back. Daedalus had determined that the males’ bodies reacted to female pregnancy hormones, which made sense, since even before the end of the first trimester, males could taste it in the blood.
Instantly, a silvery patch bloomed in a circle around the injection site. “Positive,” she announced, and Kars, lurking with some of his minions near the door, let out a grunt of satisfaction, as if he was responsible for knocking up White Fox.
With Aylin’s help, she repeated the tests over and over. Negative. Negative. Negative. Positive. Negative. Test number nineteen was the fourth positive. Only one was left.
Stomach churning, she injected the sample into Fane’s skin. Throat so tight she could barely breathe, she waited. Had the others taken this long to reveal a positive or a negative? She was torn about what she wanted to see. A negative meant she wasn’t pregnant and that she’d failed to get the five pregnancies needed to get herself out of here. A positive meant freedom.