by Kate Baxter
For the past couple of days he’d thought of nothing but having her again. His erection throbbed between his legs almost painfully. He needed to be inside her like he needed his next fucking breath. Driven by his own desperation, Ewan spun her and pressed her body up against the nearest wall as he reached for her pants, unbuttoned them, and jerked them along with her underwear down to her ankles. She kicked off her shoes and toed her pants the rest of the way off. The scent of her arousal hit him and Ewan let out a low growl.
“Spread your legs.”
She did as he asked without so much as a pause. She braced her arms against the wall, fingers splayed. Her breath raced and her heart pounded, music to his ears. The scent of her desire bloomed around him and he breathed in deeply of the heady perfume. He reached between her thighs and found her dripping wet. Slick and ready for him. Such a brazenly wanton little creature. He gripped her by the hips and jerked her backward, angling her pert ass toward him. He took an indulgent moment and stroked between her thighs, once again circling the tight knot of nerves at her core before slipping one finger inside. She let out a low moan as he pulled out and let his wet fingertips caress down and back up her inner thigh. Gods, how he wanted to tease her. To play with her until she begged him to take her. But that required time they didn’t have. Drew would come looking for him soon and Ewan would hate to have to beat the shit out of his cousin for the interruption.
Ewan pulled down his workout pants. He’d taken her from behind in the bathroom during their first encounter. This time, he wanted to see her face as he fucked her. See the expressions that went along with those tempting moans and whimpers. He turned her in his arms before cupping her ass and lifting her. For a moment, Ewan stared. Her beauty damn near stole his breath. There was a darkness in her that called to him. Captivated him. Held him rapt. Her full, dark-pink lips parted and he leaned in as the temptation to kiss her overtook him. The tip of one fang became visible and Ewan stopped short. He couldn’t let himself forget what she was. What he was. He could enjoy her. But nothing more.
He drove home in a single thrust. Sasha shuddered and her head fell back as she let out a low, indulgent moan. Her eyelids fluttered. Ewan swore the rapture in her expression was enough to make him come. Gods, she was wet. Warm. Tight. So responsive to every touch. Every thrust. He could fuck her for hours and it still wouldn’t be enough to satisfy him. He could watch her for days and his eyes would still want more.
Her pleasure was exquisite.
Ewan lost himself to the moment as he fucked her. His mind went blank and he was left with nothing more than blind sensation and raw need. He reached up with one hand and gripped the back of Sasha’s neck, forcing her gaze to meet his. Silver rimmed her irises and bled into the darker brown, yet another reminder of what she was. Taboo. Forbidden. Mine. The word resonated in Ewan’s mind with such clarity. As though it had been planted there. Had she done that? Vampires had the power to bend others to their will, but could they do it with a thought? Ewan gritted his teeth as a wave of agitation crested over him. But that suspicion and worry did nothing to stop him.
Ewan brushed his thumb against her jawline as his pace increased. The pad moved to her bottom lip and dipped inside her mouth, dangerously close to one sharp fang. Her tongue lashed out as her lips closed around his thumb and she sucked. Ewan’s gut tightened as he imagined those supple lips wrapped around his shaft, her teeth—her fangs—scraping over his sensitive flesh …
He jerked his thumb from her mouth the second the thought struck. Gregor would rip out his heart and feed it to him if he found out. This was the last time with Sasha. It couldn’t happen again.
“Don’t stop.” Sasha’s silvery gaze met his and her pleading tone vibrated through him. “I want it hard. Deep. I need to come.”
Her heated words banished the thoughts that gave him pause. Ewan buried his face against her fragrant throat as he pounded into her. “I want you to say my name when you come.” The words left his lips unbidden, but what did it matter? He needed that ownership of the moment. For her to know who had pleasured her.
“I don’t know your name, berserker.” The husky timbre of her voice vibrated down his spine and tightened his sack. A few more deep strokes and he’d go off. He refused to come until she did.
“Ewan Brún” He put his mouth close to her ear and pulled her lobe between his teeth before pulling away. “Say it.”
Her moans became tighter, louder, echoing around them. So close. He drove hard into her, harder. Faster. His jaw locked down as he fucked her without mercy. Sasha’s nails dug into his shoulders, breaking the skin, and he relished the bite of pain. “Say my name, Sasha.” It wasn’t a suggestion by any stretch of the imagination. He demanded it of her. “Say it.”
“Oh, gods.” Her body went rigid in his embrace. “I’m coming. Ewan. Gods, Ewan!”
Her pussy squeezed his shaft with powerful contractions that sent him over the edge. She buried her face against his throat and he let out a grunt at the sharp bite of pain where his shoulder met his neck. Heat suffused him, threading through his limbs and veins. Tiny tendrils of pleasure unfurled that intensified his orgasm to the point that his thighs shook and a growl gathered in his chest. His thrusts became disjointed. He pressed his body tight against hers, allowing the wall to help pin her against him. Shuddering breaths shook him as the blinding pleasure began to ebb and clarity blew in to take its place.
Her mouth. At his throat. A sharp sting. Gentle suction.
Gods. She’d bitten him!
Ewan couldn’t think of a more forbidden act. To have allowed it at all invited disaster. Before she could close the punctures he pulled away with a violent jerk. Her fangs tore the tiny holes deeper and blood scented the air as it trickled down his neck to his chest. Sasha’s brow furrowed and the silver drained from her wide-eyed stare. Fear chased across her delicate features and a momentary pang of guilt tugged at Ewan’s chest.
“You have to let me close the punctures. My saliva—”
“You bit me!” Ewan did nothing to temper his seething tone.
Sasha’s legs fell from his hips as he deposited her on the floor. The absence of her warmth sent a chill down Ewan’s spine but he forced the sensation away. Sasha’s brow remained furrowed, but she didn’t cower from his spark of anger. Didn’t shy away or demure. Instead, she bucked her chin and her jaw took on a defiant set as she bent down to shove her legs back into her pants and pulled them up to her waist.
“What in the gods’ names makes you think you have the right to bite me?” As far as Ewan was concerned, fucking the vampire wasn’t an invitation to have her fangs at his throat. In their known history, no berserker had ever allowed a vampire to do such a thing. The consequences would be worse than death if Gregor found out. Ewan didn’t dare contemplate the possibilities.
Sasha’s eyes flashed brilliant silver and her breath heaved in her chest. One pale hand came up to brush her long, dark hair behind her shoulder as she fixed him with her hypnotic gaze. “You’ve tethered me, berserker.” The words spilled from her full lips in an angry rush. “You’re my mate.”
Ewan took a stumbling step back. The words were as unbelievable as they were plausible. He’d never known vampires to take mates outside of their own species. And whereas he had no idea what a tether was, it had to have been the cause of the instant and visceral attraction between them.
“Magic?” He couldn’t manage more than a single angry word. His interaction with the vampire seemed to create layer upon layer of trouble. “You’ve used some sort of enchantment on me?” It wasn’t a question, more of an accusation.
Sasha’s expression transformed into one of angry disbelief. “Enchantment?” The word was spoken with so much force that it pricked at his skin. “You think I’ve put some kind of spell on you?”
“Well, haven’t you?”
Her palm cracked across his cheek. Damn. The vampire packed a punch. Ewan loosened his jaw and gave a violent shake of his head as a
wave of anger crested within him. His fists balled at his sides as white-hot rage gathered in his chest. His nostrils flared as he dragged in several deep breaths in an attempt to keep himself calm.
Truth be told, Sasha didn’t appear to have her temper in check any better. “Fuck you.”
Her anger made her appear even more feral. More dangerous. More beautiful. And gods help him, even more irresistible.
CHAPTER
8
“Funny. Thought we just finished up with that.”
Sasha’s jaw hung slack. Her outrage had no effect on him. In fact, it only seemed to egg him on. She wanted to hit him again. This time, lay her fist against his other cheek. What good would it do, though? He obviously enjoyed the fight, as evidenced by his return to the arena.
“Sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t have the power to enchant anyone or anything.” Her finger shook as she zipped and buttoned her pants. She bent down and slipped her shoes on. “So you have no one to blame but yourself for coming on to me.”
He let out an amused snort that did nothing to calm her temper. “Don’t try to cast the blame on me, as though you had no part in this.”
“Contrary to what you might think, berserker, I have no control over the tether. What’s done is done and there’s no taking it back.” Sasha pushed away from the wall and headed for the open docking bay at the rear of the stockroom. She didn’t have to explain herself to him or anyone else. And she’d be damned if she let him blame her or make her feel guilty for something that was completely out of her control.
Sasha’s wrist was seized in an iron grip a moment before she was spun around. The berserker’s eyes darkened with his anger, giving him an almost sinister appearance. Under the cover of shadow, his face became more angular. Harder. His cheekbones sharp enough to cut. He didn’t frighten her, though. It probably would’ve been better for her if he had.
“I want to know what this tether is,” he demanded. “I want to know what you’ve done to me.”
Sasha let out a disbelieving bark of laughter. “I haven’t done a damn thing to you, berserker,” she said with a rueful shake of her head. “It’s you that’s done something to me.”
“I’ve got a name. You know it now. Use it.”
Bossy SOB. Sasha let out an aggravated side. “Fine. I haven’t done a damn thing to you, Ewan. Is that better?”
For a moment, his expression softened. He quickly recovered, however, and maintained his façade of barely controlled rage. “Better. Tell me about the tether.”
Gods, he was infuriating. Sasha decided she liked him a lot better when they were simply fucking and not talking. Giving him any information would be tantamount to treason. But at this point, what did it matter? The damage was done. He was her mate and nothing would change that. Perhaps she could give him just enough to whet his appetite. Satisfy that annoyingly demanding curiosity and shut him the hell up so she could get out of here.
“Every vampire instinctually knows their mate on sight.” Wasn’t exactly a lie. She was simply mincing words. “It’s something we feel in every fiber of our being. That first night, at the warehouse, I recognize the mate bond the second you crossed the arena toward me.”
He fixed her with an unwavering stare, as he searched her expression for any sign of deceit. He made a show of breathing in deep and holding the air in his lungs before letting it slowly out. Sasha rolled her eyes. She didn’t frighten easily. And she wasn’t stupid. She knew what she could and couldn’t get away with. He wasn’t going to catch her in an outright lie.
“You expect me to believe that?”
Sasha shrugged as though she couldn’t care less. “I don’t expect anything from you. It is what it is. I’m just laying out the facts for you.”
“You call those facts? You didn’t give me one single piece of useful information.”
Sasha’s head canted slightly to the side. His accent became thicker, more pronounced, when he was agitated. Reminiscent of his native Scotland. She would’ve found it entertaining had she not been so monumentally annoyed. She couldn’t help but wonder if he were truly this hardheaded or if he were simply working an angle. “The majority of supernatural creatures recognize mate bonds.” This couldn’t possibly be news to him. “Are you seriously going to stand there and argue over the legitimacy of mine?”
For two days, she’d been operating under the assumption that Ewan had sensed the bond between them. She knew little about berserkers, but what other explanation could there have been? As sworn enemies, she couldn’t imagine him going to her willingly. He’d managed to shoot that theory to shit, though.
“Berserkers don’t recognize the mate bond.” His gaze hardened to onyx. “All of our females were executed by vampires.”
Sasha flinched as though stung. Their combined histories weren’t pretty. She’d heard the stories, though to her they’d merely been legends. An excuse for the berserkers and Sortiari to wage war against them. Either way, she didn’t appreciate the accusation in his tone. She’d had no part in what had happened to their females, and yet, she and every dhampir and vampire on the face of the earth had apparently been made to pay for it.
“As was every vampire executed by berserkers.” She could give as good as she got and she wasn’t about to stand there and take his insults.
Ewan’s dark gaze narrowed. “Not every vampire. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here right now.”
She let out a disbelieving chuff of laughter. Tethered mate or not, she wasn’t going to listen to another second of this bullshit. So typical of a berserker to think that two wrongs would make a right. She jerked her arm free of his grasp. A hundred angry retorts sat at the tip of her tongue but Sasha swallowed them down. It would do no good to speak another word. Besides, she had a feeling he’d enjoy arguing with her all day, given the chance. She turned on a heel and kicked her supernatural speed into high gear, crossing the stockroom to the docking bay in the space of a second. It would’ve been nothing for Ewan to catch her if he’d wanted to give chase. Sasha stopped just outside the docking bay and glanced over her shoulder at the empty opening. Emotion tugged at her chest, half relief and half disappointment that he hadn’t pursued her. She rubbed at her sternum as if it would somehow banish the sensation as she turned away and continued to run.
Preternatural stamina aside, Sasha regretted letting Ani take her car. The trek back to L.A. from the Valley only served to aggravate her already boiling temper. Plus, being alone gave Sasha plenty of time with her thoughts, allowing her to replay everything that had happened over and over again in her head. The images of the range of emotions that had passed over Ewan’s expression when he realized she’d bitten him were seared in Sasha’s mind. Her chest ached as though someone had hollowed it out with a spoon and she feared the dull pain would never go away. Not even Saeed in his emotionless detachment had hurt her as badly as Ewan just had.
If this is what it meant to be tethered, Sasha wanted no part of it. She wanted to send her soul back into oblivion where nothing and no one could touch her. Where her heart would be guarded from those who could so carelessly rip it from her chest. Gods. She’d forgotten how ridiculously sensitive she could be. The beauty of being without her soul for all those months was that it had given her the opportunity to harden her heart. Or at least to have created the illusion of it. Before her turning, she’d feared that emptiness. Had dreaded the prospect of becoming numb.
Sasha stopped dead in her tracks. She doubled over, wrapping her arms around her torso, and let out a scream of frustration that echoed off the buildings around her. It did little to release the tension built up inside of her and did nothing to ease the dull ache in her chest. Tears stung at her eyes but she refused to let them spill. The berserker was nothing more than a means to an end. A way to reclaim something she’d lost. There were plenty of males who would give a limb for the opportunity to have her fangs at their throats. So what if this one didn’t want her? She had her soul back. She needed nothing further
from him. She could let this be the end of it and move on.
In fact, it’s what she had to do. The reality of the situation was, she had no other choice.
* * *
“Fuck!”
Ewan laid his fist into the cinderblock wall and it cracked from the force of the impact. The skin split at his knuckles and four crimson drops formed there before the wounds closed almost instantaneously. A surge of anger rose inside of him so intense, the flood of power caused him to sway on his feet. He’d wanted to chase after Sasha. To grab her by the arm once again and haul her against his body. To strip her and fuck her until he was too gods-damn tired for anything other than sleep.
Inside the building proper, the crowd cheered on two new fighters. The night was far from over and tonight’s audience was particularly bloodthirsty. It would be nothing for Ewan to pull in several thousand dollars tonight. He could fight until he was too fucking exhausted to stand and Drew would be forced to drag his ass home. He had to do something. Because if he didn’t, his own tortured thoughts would drive him out of his fucking mind.
The hurt in Sasha’s expression was burned into his damn retinas. It stabbed through him sharper than any blade and cut deep. It was the sort of wound that supernatural healing couldn’t mend. The type of wound that left a scar. Ewan had hurt many creatures over the course of his long life. Physically. Emotionally. Mentally. None of it had ever weighed on him until now.
Until her.
If she hadn’t enchanted him, why did he feel this way? If she hadn’t done something to him, why did hurting her matter when none of the others ever had? What made her so gods-damned special? What made her different? Ewan raked his fingers through the tangles of his hair, pulling at the strands. Nothing short of an ice pick through his cranium was going to get Sasha out of his head.
A growl built in Ewan’s chest as he marched out of the stockroom and headed back toward the arena. Frustration, anger, want, need, and blind rage pooled in his gut. The power it created circulated through his limbs until he shook from the force of it. A dark haze fell over his vision, drowning out all color until his world became nothing more than shades of black and white. His thoughts slowed and became cottony until he was reduced to a creature of instinct. Driven by violence. Hungry for the kill.