Taken by Moonlight

by Violette Dubrinsky

  Frantic cries erupted from her throat, and her walls clenched down repeatedly as she came apart. He watched her face, marked the small little lines that appeared in her forehead as she came, saw her teeth bite into her bottom lip and draw blood. A small red dot appeared and he leaned forward and kissed her, tasting it. Like her, her blood was intoxicating. For the first time, Conall could say he understood vampires’ fascination with it.

  Stepping away from her, Conall turned to face the steel wall opposite the elevator as he struggled to regain control. Gripping the protruding bar, he closed his eyes and clenched his teeth. After some seconds, he felt her move, heard the sound of rustling clothing as she came toward him. By the time her hands landed on his shoulders, he’d attained a certain level of control. He turned quickly and caught her against him. He easily heard her thoughts, questioning why he’d stopped, wanting him to take her, wanting to continue. He moaned to himself at that seductive voice in her head, but instead of setting upon her once more, he moved one hand backward and jolted the red button once more.

  The elevator jerked and began to descend as he released her and swiftly began redoing the very clothing he’d undone.

  “Not here, Vivienne.” He was on his knees before her, his hands at the waist of her pants, his eyes on her. “I want you in a bed, where I can take time caressing every inch of your body. I want to touch you here….” His arm slid against her calf. "And here….” He pushed off of his knees, letting his hands trail up the backs of her thighs until they came to land against the jut of her buttocks. He pulled her forward and she whimpered.

  Come with me, Vivienne. His lips hadn’t moved, but it was obvious she could hear the words as clearly as if he’d said them aloud. She nodded, apparently not trusting herself to speak.

  That was all he needed. He turned, slid his arm possessively around her waist, and led her from the elevator into the underground garage. Vivienne’s mind was blank to all but him, and only one question remained: Where is he taking me?

  Chapter Four

  “Have you found her?”

  “Not yet. I’m still looking.” His voice was strong and firm, and lacked any hint that he was lying. In truth, he had located her, but could not turn her over to them. Not when he knew some of their intentions.

  “You’ve been looking for years.” It was said with both impatience and disappointment. “Perhaps you are incapable of finding—”

  “I will find her.” He had. Tracked her down as he was taught, and located her.

  “Perhaps we should send someone else.”

  “No!”

  A harsh intake of breath came from the other end of the phone line, and the man who’d uttered the almost frantic negation willed himself to be calm. “This task was assigned to me. Give me more time and I will bring her to you.”

  There was a pregnant silence, and nothing could be heard but the sounds of calm breaths.

  “I’ve given you enough time as is and am beginning to think you incapable of getting it done.” The voice was sharp and rebuking, and a long exhale followed it. “Two more weeks, and then you either return with the girl or in disgrace. Is that understood?”

  “Clearly. Two weeks.”

  “Don’t you disgrace this family, boy.”

  “I won’t, Father.”

  ***

  As the minutes rolled by, with Vivienne seated in the front of Conall’s sleek sports car, a barrage of thoughts assailed her. She still wanted him, but without him touching her, kissing her, running those talented hands across her skin, her brain was honing in on things she usually remembered before jumping into a stranger’s car for sexual purposes! Not that she’d ever, ever thought of doing something like this before, or ever allowed a man to touch her so intimately, a man she barely even knew. Her cheeks grew hot, and she tugged at her collar as she remembered where his finger had been.

  Jesus! She was acting like a whore, and she wasn’t. She was a virgin, hadn’t even allowed a guy to go to third base, had strangely enough, never really thought of having sex before, and now she was going somewhere with a stranger for that purpose. She didn’t even know where he was taking her. He would expect her to know what she was doing, and she didn’t. He could be anything: rapist, murderer, sociopath, or combination of all. Oh God, he could probably hurt her.

  No, he wouldn’t. She knew that. Sensed that he wouldn’t hurt her. Still….

  Clearing her throat, she turned to face him. His eyes were on the road, as they should be. “Look, Mr. Athelwulf, maybe this isn’t such a great idea…I’m not like…erm—this is a bit too fast….”

  “Conall.” He corrected her easily, turning briefly to give her a quick, but intense glance.

  She nodded. Of course it was. What had she been thinking, speaking so formally after the things he’d done to her in the elevator? She clenched her legs together, only to wish she hadn’t. The friction reminded her of how his fingers had felt against her. She moaned softly, and sent a look over to him, wondering if he’d heard. He gave no indication of it.

  Vivienne was preparing to continue where she’d left off, trying to convince him to let her out of the car—and convince herself that she actually wanted him to do so—when they rolled to a stop before a valet dressed from head to toe in red and gold livery.

  Conall turned to look at her, caught the question in her eyes and said nonchalantly, “The Waldorf. It’s closer.”

  With that, he stepped from the car. She watched as he strode around the front and opened her door. He took her hand and she inhaled, feeling the electricity that seemed to pour from his skin to hers.

  The walk to the suite was a blur of images and sounds. Vivienne didn’t see the curious gazes as they moved past hotel guests who were either leaving or entering. They cut quite a stark contrast, him white and dressed in the most expensive of clothing, and her black and dressed as carelessly as she was. Conall paused for a moment to talk to the hotel manager, and once presented with a key, he used it to open the door to one of the most beautiful suites she had ever seen. She barely had time to take in the magnificence of the room before he pulled her to him.

  His hand moved to her hair, removing the clip that kept it off her back. As it fell from his hands, so did her hair. Tightly wound curls fell to the top of her back, and he ran his hand over and through them, admiring the different texture even as his lips claimed hers.

  It was right then, in that moment, that Vivienne decided she would have make do with the fact that she knew his name and where he worked. That had to count for something. At least he wasn’t a complete stranger. Her hands slid around his waist, and she moved into his body, feeling the rippling muscles beneath the expensive suit. As his tongue licked at hers and fire consumed her, Vivienne moved her hands to his jacket. Instinct drove her to excel in something she’d never done before, remove a man’s clothes.

  From the way his eyes glowed, Vivienne could see that he was surprised at her boldness. It was unexpected, she guessed, her being a virgin, but his surprise lasted mere seconds. She’d barely pushed his jacket off, before he quickly stripped her and lifted her.

  Vivienne gasped and locked her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck. She knew he was strong, but she was heavier than she looked. Still, she remembered that he’d carried her the first time they met. As his hand slid along her bare thigh then up her back, she tightened her grip on his neck. Leaning down, she gently nipped at his bottom lip, and was rewarded with a deep moan, before she kissed him fiercely. Conall did not break the kiss as he carried her across the large, spacious living room, and into the bedroom, where he followed her down to the massive bed.

  He lifted off of her slightly, to capture his weight on his hands, and Vivienne began to frantically tug at his tie. The man was still dressed while she was in her underwear. It was not fair. She wanted to see him naked, wanted to run her hands along taut skin and underlying muscle, and…she wanted to taste him. That thought sent delicious shivers down her body. She tossed the
tie to one side of the bed and he captured her lips. Moaning, she shifted up against him, grinding against the hardness still encased in his pants.

  Vivienne turned her head away from the kiss, and pushed at his shoulders. She began to work at the crisp, white shirt, unbuttoning it, and then pushing it from his broad shoulders.

  A gasp escaped her as she stared at the solid mass of his chest. Sinewy, beautifully sculpted, and what a magnificent tattoo. It covered half of his chest and most of his arm, inch-wide curved lines of black ink, which seemed to begin at his upper arm and spiral downward, almost like a sleeve, before branching out onto his chest. Vivienne had never found guys with tattoos particularly attractive, but there was something about his tattoo that seemed natural, like it wasn’t just art, but an extension of him. She reached out with a finger and traced the lines, wondering what they symbolized. Under her touch, she felt him tense. His eyes closed, and his breaths came fast. A wicked smile touched her lips as she pushed onto an elbow and ran her tongue over his flat nipple. Should any man taste so good?

  Before she knew what was happening, Vivienne was once more pinned to the bed and her bra was being removed and tossed. When Conall kissed her again, her body erupted into flames and she grabbed the back of his head. The hardness of his chest crushed her breasts, and his hips nestled directly between her spread legs. His lips moved down her neck, licking and sucking at pleasure points, before making their way to her nipples.

  “Oh my Go—” She ended on a loud groan as his tongue flicked rapidly over her nipple before circling the peak, and then lightly nipping at it. He licked down the valley of her breasts to her navel, where he circled the little indentation. The bed shifted, and she opened her eyes. He was standing at the foot of the bed, his features harsh and controlled.

  “Conall,” she began, shifting her hips at him and fully prepared to do whatever was necessary to get him back into the bed.

  ***

  A squeal escaped her lips when his large hand locked onto her ankle and pulled. She slid down the bed. Conall pulled once more, until her hips were at the bed’s edge and she was spread before him like a delectable feast.

  His eyes held hers as he palmed her. Biting her lip, she arched into his hand, her breasts rising high on her chest. He tucked his fingers into the flimsy panties, and pulled them from her body, exposing her glistening sex. Perfect.

  Kneeling for better access, he put his face forward, inhaling the very essence of her being as a pounding began in the base of his skull. Once more, his beast rose to the surface, demanding release. Fuck! He’d thought he would be able to control it.

  The first touch of his tongue to her slit sent her spiraling into orgasm. Conall growled low as he felt the rapid pulsations. He hadn’t even started. Pushing her legs farther apart, he attacked her with a ravenous vengeance. He’d never wanted any woman this much. He couldn’t get enough of her taste, of her scent. As it was, his own scent rode high on the air, higher than usual, as he prepared to make her his.

  ***

  Coming down from her last orgasm, Vivienne watched, dazed, as Conall turned away from her and pushed his pants and boxers down in a fluid motion. Even in her state of satiaety, she felt her mouth water as she stared at his muscular back, tight buttocks, and toned legs. His body was a work of art, better than the David statute everyone identified with perfection. The tattoo, which also curved around one half of his back, only made him more museum-worthy.

  And then he turned around. Vivienne pushed herself onto her elbow to stare in wide-eyed fascination at the thing springing up from a nest of black hair at his thighs.

  Is it supposed to be that big?

  Between the era of the Internet and Drew’s curiosity about the male anatomy, Vivienne had seen a few penises before. From Cosmo and other magazines, she knew that six to eight inches when erect was normal. She also knew for certain that Conall was definitely over that size range.

  As she stared, it seemed to grow even larger. For the first time since she’d entered the suite, panic erupted in her mind. He wouldn’t fit!

  Suddenly, the lights went out and darkness greeted her, obscuring her vision.

  “Conall,” she began, her voice small with fear. “What happened to the lights?

  Hands were suddenly under her armpits, pulling her farther up the bed, to the center of the large mattress. She blinked rapidly, trying to get her eyes to adjust to the darkness.

  “I turned them off.”

  “Why?” Vivienne wasn’t particularly afraid of the dark in the traditional sense of the word. She slept with the lights out, and at times, sat in the darkness and let her mind wander but being in the darkness with someone else, with Conall, unnerved her.

  ***

  Conall heard the plea in her voice and ignored it. Vivienne was a human virgin, and he was part animal, quite literally. She’d already panicked at seeing his size and he would grow even larger. A slight pang of guilt went through him as he saw her face in the darkness, her eyes darting about as she tried to see him.

  He traced a finger across her lips, comforting her, as the other reached down to capture a soft breast. She moaned, her lips parting slightly, and her tongue darted out to lick at his finger.

  “I want to see you, Conall.”

  Fluidly, he leapt over her, nudging her thighs apart and settling between them. His hands went to her face as he leaned down and kissed her lips.

  “I would rather kill myself than hurt you. Do you believe me?”

  She hesitated for a few seconds before she nodded. She didn’t know why but instinct told her to trust him. “You have nothing to fear from the darkness, Vivienne. Nothing to fear from me,” he murmured against her lips. As his tongue caressed hers, she completely forgot they were completely cloaked in darkness. Her short nails dragged along his skin as she clutched at him, arching into the hard length that nudged against her center.

  Conall growled, burying his face in her neck. She whimpered as he sucked at neck, and cried out when a long finger slid into her once more. Her hips rose off of the bed to meet it as it moved within her. He inserted another and she whimpered as her walls stretched to accommodate it.

  That’s it, Vivienne. Just like that. His voice was husky as his fingers prepared her for his invasion.

  Vivienne was approaching another orgasm when his fingers slipped free. Her nails dug fiercely into his back. “No, please—Conall…?”

  She halted when something much larger and harder pressed against her. Her eyes widened and she moaned again as he rubbed his thick length along her slit, teasing her mercilessly. Her hand slid into his hair. He growled low. Conall knew he must sound wild, but Vivienne didn’t seem to care. She pulled his head down to hers once more.

  Conall had been swiftly losing control to the animal from the moment he’d touched her, but at the very end of the tightrope he held on to his control. As he positioned himself at the very place he wanted to be buried, he thought of the best way not to hurt her.

  Merging his mind and emotions with hers, he surged forward, impaling her on his length.

  A cry tore from her lips and she jerked back. Through their mental connection, Conall briefly felt the stifling pain, before she began to feel his pleasure. The rush had her moaning, arching against him, wanting even more. He slid deeper, and through her panting, she smiled in the darkness.

  God, this is even better than chocolate….

  Conall might have chuckled at the compliment, but for the fact that he was finally sheathed inside of her. She felt better than he’d imagined, and he held himself still for a few seconds, allowing the scent pouring off of him to creep into her. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembered that werewolves were not supposed to mark or mate humans, but as far gone as he was, he was beyond caring.

  He began to move, pulling back slowly only to slide deep at the same pace. She was so wet, so ready for him, that despite her tightness, he moved inside with a fluidity that clearly spoke to her being made to fit him. R
eaching down, he grabbed a leg and pushed it out to the side before raising it by the knee. Another inch of him slipped into her body, and she cried out. It was all pleasure. He moved faster, quickening his pace as he pushed her toward another orgasm. She arched off of the bed as she came, and collapsed right after, sweaty and worn out.

  Conall was not finished. He pulled from her body, his keen eyes recognizing the slickness of her juices coating him, and easily flipped her onto her belly. Reaching under her, he lifted her until she was upright on her knees before him. Vivienne whimpered, leaning her head back against his shoulder.

  Tired. No. Too tired. So tired she hadn’t bothered to speak aloud.

  With one arm holding her up, Conall nipped at her neck, at her shoulders, and kissed each little bite after. He brought his other hand down to her center, and danced his finger over her sensitive nub.

  She moaned low. His fingers pinched at her lightly and after some seconds of play, he turned his hands to her breasts. After kneading them and pulling at her nipples, he kissed her shoulder, her spine, before he released her breasts and trailed kisses down to the dip in her back. His hand pushed at her shoulder, and she went forward, her hands falling to the mattress and she adjusted to the position.

  One look at her on her knees before him, eagerly waiting, and the beast surfaced, and this time, took over. Conall’s canines lengthened, wicked sharp talons protruded where blunt nails had been, and he growled.

  ***

  The air seemed to crackle around them, and Vivienne felt a burst of renewed energy shoot through her. Strong hands gripped her waist and she pushed back against air, whimpering in frustration.

  A scream tore from her throat as his length parted her folds in one quick thrust. One hand gripped her waist as the other tangled in her hair. She cried out, feeling a combination of pain and pleasure as he began to thrust against her, his sweat-slicked body rocking against hers as his pace increased. I will be the only one to have you, Vivienne. Only me. Do you accept me as your mate? His voice was a torrent of deep unintelligible sounds and low growls, but she understood.