Taken by Moonlight

by Violette Dubrinsky

  Mate? Her brain thought briefly to the word before her emotions took over and she nodded frantically.

  “Yes, yes. Only you. Please. Harder.”

  His thrusts grew even stronger, his body slapping against hers so powerfully as to shake the king-sized bed. Her hand caught a fistful of sheet as she pushed back against him, feeling her body burn with the need to release.

  Like that, Vivienne?

  Something in her demanded more.

  “More.”

  His hard belly, ribbed with deep grooves of his abs, came down against her back as his hands pressed into the mattress on either side of her. Turning her head, she looked at him, and was startled by the bright yellow eyes piercing into her. Vivienne gasped as he went deep, and closed her eyes. She was imagining things—she was in such a high state of arousal that she was imagining things.

  You are mine, Vivienne.

  Yes, yours. Take me, Con—

  Before she could finish that thought, a sharp pain lanced her shoulder and her knees buckled before giving out. His arm was below her belly, holding her up now. A burn started at her shoulder and as he quickened his pace, something strange erupted inside of her. She was still there, but something else, something much fiercer, had taken over. He pushed against her again, and she rocked back against him frantically. A soft growl escaped her lips and then a cry, a keening, high-pitched sound, left her lips.

  Take me, Conall. Take me completely. She didn’t hear herself speaking those words but she was quick to accept them as her own.

  A strangled shout escaped his lips as he pushed forward wildly, his organ seeming to increase in girth as he came into her. Vivienne’s eyes widened even as her body demanded more of him, all of him. He reared back and pushed forward again, and her body stretched further as it tried to accommodate him. Another hard thrust, resulted in Vivienne’s strangled cry, and every inch of him was sheathed in her body as heat pulsed through her core. Her body began shaking, quivering, coming. Vivienne heard a feral snarl, followed by a growl from somewhere in the distance as her body shook violently.

  The world erupted into sound, but this time, there were no voices. The silent song of the wind, the rustling of curtains, Conall’s harsh breathing in her ear. Despite the darkness, she could see the white sheets beneath her, the burgundy headboard before her. Her own breathing was just beginning to calm when the voices came once more.

  It was impossible to make out the words, but she knew it to be a chant from the singsong, lyrical way that it was being said. It grew louder and louder, until she was no longer moaning in pleasure but from the jolting pain of their heightened voices. She was briefly aware of Conall’s arm wrapping about her belly as he carefully lowered them both onto their sides. He was still inside of her, still hard. The voices hit a high crescendo and she screamed. Why are they so loud? She clutched at her forehead, her temple.

  Suddenly, all went silent, and a mercifully soothing voice whispered to her. Sleep.

  Even if she wanted to resist it, she couldn’t. She was exhausted, and it offered her reprieve.

  ***

  As soon as Conall reined in his beast, he recognized he had more pressing problems, other than the fact that he’d just mated a human. He hadn’t completed the ritual, but from his mating scent on her skin, and his essence still secured in her body, any non-human being would be able to sense it. She was his. Still, he didn’t have time to dwell on things that could not be undone.

  His human was not as human as he’d suspected. Conall sniffed at her, as a frown marred his lips. Vivienne smelled human, looked human, acted human, but something was off. He trailed his hand down the length of her torso as he remembered what had happened before he’d put her to sleep.

  He’d been inside of her, mind and body, when something unlocked. There was no other way to describe it. He’d felt its energy, its strength, but had been too far gone to focus on exactly what it was. Whatever had surfaced had been strong and demanding and had brought out the dominance of his wolf as he lost control, and pinned her to him. His brow furrowed. And if that had not clued him to the fact that Vivienne was more than he’d originally thought, the voices in her head were a clear indication. He’d remained a silent force in her mind, trying to locate and understand them, to see if some sort of witchery was involved, but had found no sources. No energy flowing into the room that would link the chanting to a witch.

  In fact, it seemed to be coming directly from her, which he knew was impossible. Every were and vampire, even warlocks, had been trained and trained well to scent a witch because most of the times, they were trying to kill them. Vivienne was no witch. He thought of the possibility of druids before dismissing it. No druids had walked the earth for centuries, after being locked away for wreaking absolute havoc on mortals and immortals alike.

  Vivienne shifted slightly, and Conall’s hand splayed across her belly as he quickly restrained her. Because he’d pinned her, she was still locked to him, and would be unable to move for some minutes.

  As she settled once more, he returned to his thoughts. It could be a spell, something cast when she was younger, without her knowledge, or done to her recently. Witches and druids were the only creatures who spun spells and curses. Anger ran through his body as he thought of someone casting something against his mate. Vivienne jerked against him, and Conall remembered that he was still in her mind. Pulling away easily, so as not to jar her awake, he rubbed his hand soothingly against her torso.

  She murmured something he didn’t catch, and he continued his ministrations. Why would someone curse her? As his mind worked the possibilities, Vivienne slept peacefully in his arms.

  ***

  The sounds were coming from behind Drew’s closed door.

  Max had just arrived back at the apartment after two encounters with his boss that had made him consider quitting, and the sight that greeted him made him pause. Around the dining table were two empty plates, which contained the remnants of an evening dinner. It was just before seven, and he briefly wondered if Vivienne’s boss had actually let her leave early, before the sound of giggling touched his ears. Although he found it strange, Max thought that Vivienne had a friend or colleague over. He was standing before her door, about to knock and meet this mystery friend, when he recognized two things: the laughter was coming from Drew’s room and the voice he’d heard was very male.

  Max took quick steps over to Drew’s door, knocked, and without waiting for a response, pushed the door open.

  Drew sat at her desk and swiveled her chair to face him. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened in shock. She’d curled her braids, and some caressed her face while others swept down her back. And was she wearing makeup?

  His gaze was drawn to the man who lay on the bed. He looked comfortable, as if he’d been there before. His arms were spread eagled about her comforter, and his head was atop a colorful throw pillow as he lay on his belly, watching her. The man rolled over and sat up when Max marched in, and then he looked to Drew. She sent him a placating smile and stood, heading over to Max.

  “What are you doing in my room?” Her voice was calm and to anyone else, it might have even sounded friendly. He sent her a withering glare, which she returned.

  “Who’s your friend?” he asked curtly, looking back to the guy sitting on her bed before lifting one brow. It was a challenge, one that any man understood.

  “Jonathan,” he began in a deep voice, before pushing his legs to the edge of the mattress and standing. He walked over to where Max stood, and gently moved Drew to the side. Extending his hand, he smiled in what some might call a charming way, and said, “Jonathan Rashard.”

  Max’s glare never softened as he took in the man before him. He was about a few inches shorter, with a richly tanned complexion, and a very recent fade. He guessed some girls would find him attractive, too. He looked accusingly at Drew, whose arms were now crossed below her breasts. Max did a double take and blinked, his eyes attached to her chest.

  Wh
at the hell is she wearing?

  Drew was nicely rounded, with full breasts, a small waist, and flaring hips. She was built like a pin-up girl, only slightly thinner and taller, and she certainly did not need to be flaunting herself in that tight and revealing V-neck shirt! And where were the sleeves on that thing? It was October, not August!

  His eyes lifted to hers. She stared at him curiously, and he knew she’d caught him staring at her breasts.

  “Isn’t it a bit chilly for that shirt?” He regretted the question the moment it left his lips because her eyes hardened and her lips pursed tightly.

  “Isn’t it a bit rude to walk into someone’s bedroom without being invited?”

  Jonathan pulled his hand back and pushed it into his pocket, staring at them peculiarly.

  “I knocked,” Max corrected. “If you weren’t so busy,” he paused and looked at Jonathan, who lifted a brow as he did so, “you might have heard it.”

  “Funny. If you weren’t so rude you would have waited—”

  “Okaaay,” Jonathan suddenly exclaimed, nodding his head as he walked back over to the bed and sat down. He put on his boots, laced them up, and stood. “I’m going to head out now. I’ve got some stuff to do at the gallery anyway.”

  “The gallery?”

  “Yes, the gallery. Not that it is any of your business, but Jonathan is one of the artists for the upcoming exhibit,” she bit out, before turning to Jonathan and offering him an apologetic smile. Drew worked at a modern art gallery in the city as a PR representative. She was responsible for the artists, their pieces, and getting people to show up for events.

  “Walk me out?” Jonathan asked, and she nodded. She rushed past Max, practically shoving him out of the way as she headed for the living room.

  “It was interesting meeting you, Max,” Jonathan told him, and Max only barely resisted the urge not to say something snide. He might be Drew’s client, but he was a man, and from his position on her bed and Drew’s appearance, there had to be something more.

  Although he couldn’t bring himself to smile, or even lose the frown for that matter, he did reply. “Yeah.”

  Jonathan nodded and chuckled. “I’ll probably see you around.”

  I hope not. He might as well have said it, because Jonathan caught a clue and shrugged his shoulders before walking past him to where Drew no doubt waited.

  Max released a deep breath and shook his head. Could the day get any worse? Turning, he walked over to his room and began removing his clothing. He was going to take a hot shower, then eat—no, he wasn’t hungry anymore. He was going straight to bed.

  ***

  Max had been in the shower for quite sometime, his head resting against the tile as water trickled down to his toes. The beating spray relaxed his muscles and cleared his head.

  The door opened suddenly, and he turned in the direction as his eyes went cold. He expelled a rush of breath as angry footsteps marched over to him. It was just Drew.

  “I don’t care how long you try to hide in here, Maximilian, you’re going to listen to me!”

  He turned and looked at the blurred outline of her body through the glass door.

  “I’m not hiding,” he retorted, blinking water out of his eyes and finally looking back down the blue and white bathroom tiles.

  “I have never been so embarrassed in my life—”

  He snorted. “You really should get out more.”

  “Shut up, Max! This isn’t a damn joke! This is my life, my job, we’re talking about!”

  She paused, but when he didn’t say anything, continued, “I know you and I are not the best of friends, but Viv is my best friend. I only agreed to live here because I thought we could be cordial, if not friendly, with each other. If that’s not possible, then tell me. I swear I’ll be out of here in a week or two.”

  He turned the shower off. “And this is all over what happened tonight? Because I embarrassed you in front of some guy?”

  “Because you embarrassed me in front of a client and a friend!” she hissed. “Because you’re always pissing me off with your snide little remarks and unnecessary thoughts on my life! I—” she halted suddenly, and sighed. Through the fragmented glass he saw her lift a hand to her face as if she were covering her eyes or holding the bridge of her nose. He wondered which. The hand fell. “I’ve stayed as long as I have because of Vivienne, but I refuse to live with you if you start interfering with my work!”

  “I didn’t know he was your client.”

  “Is that your twisted idea of an apology?”

  “I said I didn’t know that he was your client, okay? I thought he was….”

  Strangled laughter bubbled from her lips, and he imagined that her brows were lifting in comedic irritation. It was one of the little things she did whenever she was angry. “You thought he was what? My date? My boyfriend? So what, Max? So what if he is? You had no right, absolutely no right, to do what you did! We don’t even like each other.”

  He pushed the shower door open, eliciting a loud gasp from Drew as her eyes surveyed his naked body. He stepped out.

  ***

  “I like you fine.”

  Although she willed herself not to, her eyes, having a mind of their own, fell down his dripping body before retreating immediately back to his face. She swallowed as she suddenly began to recognize how warm it was in the bathroom.

  Max came to a stop directly before her, forcing her to look up at him.

  Drew cleared her throat and reached her hands back to pull her braids off of her neck. She was feeling hot, and having a ton of hair that was not hers resting against her back was uncomfortable.

  “I’m going to let you…dress.” She would have turned and fled if he hadn’t moved closer, inciting her reaction to take a step back, and then done that again, until she was against the wall.

  “Max, what are you—” Her voice was panicked and she had every right to be. He was crowding her. Her hands fell from the braids and clenched into fists at her side. She didn’t like being crowded.

  “Don’t you like me?” he asked and she stared up into his hazel eyes in confusion. What the hell was he talking about? “I said I liked you. Don’t you like me?”

  Honestly, she didn’t know. She spent so much time hating Max, hating him through college, and then through their time in this apartment. Had she grown even slightly fond of him during that time? Somewhere from within there was a disbelieving snort at the question.

  Oh please, you like him way too much for your own good.

  That wasn’t true. She didn’t like Max, hadn’t liked him since the second semester of freshman year when he’d turned into a first-class asshole. Max didn’t respect anything but himself and Vivienne. No one else. She’d learned that lesson years ago.

  “I tolerate you, Max, because I love Vivienne,” she heard herself say. His eyes narrowed. She wasn’t sure if it was from anger or something else, and she looked away. She swept her gaze down, and gasped, wishing she hadn’t. Oh boy. Max was…erm…saluting her. A slight tingling sensation erupted at her core as she recognized that she’d caused that. “I—I’m going to go now. Just don’t do anything like that again, o-okay?” She slid along the wall in an attempt to get away from him but he followed her. His hand came to rest near her head.

  “Don’t do anything like what?” His voice had changed, lowered. His eye color shifted to a sensual light brown color, and she found herself lost in his gaze.

  “W-w-what?”

  For that, she was rewarded with a deep smile that tilted in one direction. When he smiled like that, he reminded her of palm trees and sunny island Christmases. A smile started playing around her lips before she remembered where she was and whom she was with. This was Max! The Maximilian Carter who’d teased her mercilessly about everything in college, who still irked her now, and who’d just chased away a client because he felt like it. That was who stood before her; that was who she didn’t like.

  “Max, you’re crowding me.” Her voice w
as still shaky, but it was clear.

  “I know.” Arrogant bastard.

  She reached up and touched her palms to his shoulders. She gave a hard push, and smiled when he stumbled backward with a look of confusion on his face. Max had probably never been rejected in his entire life.

  “Did you forget you were with the ice queen, Max?” she taunted, remembering one of the names that he’d called her in college. There were many, and all had gotten to her because they were names he’d given her.

  The smile faded as he moved away and reached for the burgundy towel hanging behind the door. When it was snugly around his waist, she crossed her arms against her chest and tapped her foot on the ground. He walked over to the faucet.

  “I’ll bring over whoever I want and you won’t say anything about it. If not, I’m out of here, and you and Viv can look for another roommate.” She stopped when she saw his eyes widen in the mirror, as if he’d never thought of that. Men could be so dense at times. “Understood?”

  “Yeah, whatever,” Max responded at last, turning on the faucet and ignoring her. He grabbed his shaving cream and sprayed some into his palms, waiting for the mousse to form before applying it to his cheeks and neck. He reached into the cupboard for a razor, which he placed at the side of the sink.

  “You still here, Drew? Volunteering to shave me?” His voice was terse and an eyebrow shot up as a challenge. Shaking her head and rolling her eyes, she turned and scurried from the bathroom.

  Chapter Five