by Kate Baxter
Jesus fucking Christ! It was burning her!
Ewan got his ass into gear. Without any thought to his carelessness or who might see him, he crossed from the parking area to the entrance of the apartment complex in the space of a few seconds. His finger shook as he punched the code to unlock the main entrance into the keypad. A loud buzz signaled as the lock disengaged. He pushed open the heavy glass door and rather than waste more time waiting for the elevator, raced up the flights of stairs to Sasha’s third-floor apartment.
Keys! Where the fuck were her keys?
“Sasha?” He gave her a not-so-gentle shake. “Where are your keys so I can get you inside?”
Her arms flopped toward her legs as though the slender limb weighed hundreds of pounds. “Pocket. Probably.”
Good gods. Probably? Ewan rolled his eyes. He shouldered her weight with his left hand while he felt against her jeans pockets for an outline of the key. Of course it would be in the pocket closest to his body. The hardest one to get into with their positioning. His arm didn’t want to bend the way he needed it to and his fingers were too large and clumsy to negotiate the denim that clung to her like a second skin. When he finally managed to work the key free of her pocket, he was out of his mind with frustration and damn near sweating. He shoved the key into the lock and carried her into the apartment, kicking the door closed behind him. Thank the gods the blinds were all shut. Still, it didn’t completely black out the space. Ewan carried Sasha into the bedroom as though she were made of hollowed-out eggshells, and set her on the bed. He pulled the throw blanket from the foot of the mattress and crossed to the window, draping the heavy cover over the blinds. Darkness settled over the morning-bright space and for the first time since they’d been hijacked by the demons he allowed a breath of relief.
One window down. Six or seven more to go.
* * *
Sasha awoke to the sensation of her skin burning. She sucked in a sharp breath and sat upright as she brushed her palms over her arms in an attempt to extinguish the nonexistent flames.
“Sasha, you’re okay.”
Strong arms gripped her shoulders and another wave of disoriented panic swept over her. She fought against the hold, desperate to break free. But his grip was iron and his arms carved from marble. She couldn’t move him if she tried.
“Burning.” Her thoughts were muddled, her mind slow with the dregs of sleep. She remembered the demons, their taunting violence, and her own frustration as she’d thrown herself into the path of one of those supernatural fireballs. “Hellfire.”
Warmth soaked into her skin from the hands that held her still. Her breathing slowed and the quaking in her limbs subsided. A throbbing pain still plagued her right forearm, but no longer did she feel the lick of flames against her flesh. She shook out her hands, finger splayed and limp, and let the panic drain from her on a slowly exhaled breath.
“Are you always this disoriented when you wake at sundown?”
The rich timbre of Ewan’s voice vibrated through her. The tether that bound them gave a gentle tug at Sasha’s chest and she brought her palm up to rest over her heart. “Yes. I mean, no. I’m just weak. I haven’t fed and…” Gods, she could barely string two words together to make a sentence. She needed to get it together. Her fangs throbbed in her gums and her throat burned with thirst. The last thing she needed was to let Ewan see her behaving like some stereotype of what her kind had been painted to represent. Creatures ruled by madness, lust, and thirst.
“Then take what you need.” Ewan turned her in his grasp so Sasha was settled on his lap. He tilted his head to one side, elongating his throat.
“I could … I mean … Your wrist would be—”
“No.” His demanding tone sent a delicious shiver down her spine. “You’ll drink from my throat.”
Okay. His tone let her know, plain and simple, that he expected her to do as he commanded. And whereas most of the time Sasha would’ve responded by doing opposite of what he wanted, she was too damned thirsty and too damned weak to fight back.
As though she had no choice, Sasha nuzzled his throat. The scent of his blood called to her, intensified her thirst a thousand-fold. Her secondary fangs elongated as she put her lips to his flesh. Her mouth opened wide as her tongue flicked out and Ewan shuddered against her. Despite her need for apathy, her self-coached detachment, she wanted him. The tether had returned her soul, but as payment it had made her weak and dependent. Gods, would there ever be a time that she didn’t want him? She forced every torturous thought from her mind and bit down, allowing the sharp points of her fangs to break the skin.
His blood flowed over her tongue and Sasha allowed an indulgent moan. His taste had no equal and she wondered after so many times of doing this very thing, how in the hell she ever had the willpower to stop.
Ewan’s hand came up to cradle the back of her head. He held her tight against him as though worried she’d pull away. They were like a couple of junkies. Each one dependent on the other for something and knowing the only cure for their addiction was to go cold turkey. And yet, neither of them possessed the strength necessary to do that. The first time she’d pierced his vein, Ewan had been repulsed, disgusted by the act. And now, he craved it as much as she did. His hold on her, his demand that she drink from his throat was proof enough. The tether that bound them tightened. Saeed mourned for Sasha and perhaps he had reason to.
Sated, Sasha tried to pull away. Ewan refused to let her. The blunt pads of his fingers pressed against the back of her skull. “No.” The word was nothing more than a guttural sound. “Don’t stop. More.”
She’d been on the receiving end of a vampire bite enough times to know it was a euphoric experience for both parties involved. But the euphoria usually faded. Everyone came down from the high eventually. Was it that Ewan hadn’t come down yet? Or was he greedy to hold on to the sensation?
Sasha’s tongue flicked out at the punctures though it was hardly necessary. Vampires possessed a venom in their fangs that kept the wounds open in quick-healing supernatural creatures and their saliva was the only thing that could close the punctures. Not so with Ewan. Berserkers were beyond supernatural. The tiny openings she’d made would close on their own, but that didn’t stop Sasha from laying the flat of her tongue against his flesh just the same.
“It will weaken you if I take any more,” she murmured against his throat.
“No, it won’t.” His masculine confidence coaxed a smile to Sasha’s lips. “I’m strong enough.”
She didn’t doubt his strength for a second. It was her own that she worried about. It was Sasha who had to break the contact before she let herself go too far. Before she lost herself to him.
“Even the big bad berserker warlord only has so much blood in his body. I’ve taken enough. How about you replenish those stores for the next time I get hit with hellfire?”
“It won’t happen again.” He spoke with such arrogance. So sure himself. “Because I won’t let it.”
Yup. So damned overconfident. “Going to take on the world, huh?”
“If I have to.”
This was why Sasha couldn’t allow herself to get close. Because beneath his crass, rough exterior, behind his tough words, brutal fighting prowess, and cruel countenance, Sasha knew there was an honorable male. Someone she could admire and perhaps even … love.
Sasha couldn’t afford to give her heart to Ewan or anyone else. It was already so damaged, the slightest mishandling would destroy it completely. Ewan could crush it with little effort. At one time, Sasha had given Saeed the power to crush her and she refused to give it to anyone else. Even her own mate.
She breathed deeply of his alluring musky scent and held it in her lungs before pulling away. His grip on the back of her head loosened and he reluctantly allowed her to sit upright as she brought her forearm up for his inspection. “See? All better.”
Ewan’s gaze burned with that same intensity that both frightened and attracted her. No longer dark with rag
e, his irises were light golden brown. Beautiful and fathomless. Dusk gave way to night, casting strange shadows that made the bedroom seem unfamiliar. Sasha never slept here. It was simply a place where she could meet Ewan in private. Well, she guessed her privacy was shot to shit now that Saeed and the entirety of her coven knew her little secret.
He cradled her arm in his grip and put his mouth to the spot where the burn had been. The kiss was gentle, his lips soft and pliant. Her stomach curled into a tight knot as a delicious rush of pleasure cycled through her. He affected her with even the slightest touch. It was hard to remain detached and stoic when he could take command of her body with the simplest of acts.
“Sasha.” He said her name like it was a prayer. A holy word only to be uttered in a holy place. Her throat tightened as she willed the tender emotions that threatened to overtake her to the soles of her feet. He kissed his way up her arm, pausing only long enough to strip her shirt up the length of her body and over her head. Kissed the dip at the opposite side of her elbow. Her upper arm. Her shoulder. He reached behind and unfastened her bra, coaxing the straps down over her arms as he kissed along her collarbone to the hollow of her throat.
Feeding and sex often went hand in hand. It was a necessary act but also a sensual one. Foreplay. And the gods help her, Sasha didn’t want him to stop.
His tongue lashed out at her throat and Sasha sucked in a breath. Hot, wet, it swirled against her skin for a languorous moment before he grazed her flesh with his teeth. A shiver of anticipation danced over her skin. “Again,” she said on a breath. “Harder.”
Ewan’s muscles tensed beneath her. The heat of his tongue met her skin as though in preparation for the sharp sting of his bite. A rush of heat spread between Sasha’s thighs and she gripped Ewan’s shirt in her fists as she held him close.
She may not have wanted to lose herself to Ewan, but she was starting to realize that she might not have a choice.
CHAPTER
21
Ewan was starved for Sasha. For her body, her soft skin, the taste of her, the tight wet heat that held him so perfectly. His want of her went beyond the need for temporary satisfaction and that scared the shit out of him. She’d been dead to the world for the past ten or so hours. He could have driven a stake through her heart. Ended her existence as he had countless other vampires in the course of his life. He could have made Gregor proud and given up the location of a vampire coven for their clan to ravage. He could have betrayed her. But he didn’t.
Instead, he’d watched over her. Protected her while she was weak.
He was at odds with himself. Had been since the moment he’d laid eyes on her dark, savage beauty. He didn’t know who he was anymore. His future, his very existence was uncertain and it scared the shit out of him. And it was that fear that drove him to find solace in Sasha’s arms. He wanted to forget the things that plagued him—for a little while at least. Outside of these walls, the world faded away. Inside this room with her, an alternate reality existed.
Her scent drove him wild. The urgent longing in her sultry voice hardened his cock to stone. He bit down, harder like she wanted, and she let out a quiet moan. “Do you like that, Sasha?” He couldn’t help but ask for confirmation. His ego demanded it.
“Gods, yes.” The words left her lips in a breathy rush. “I love it.”
“Does it make you wet?” He bit her again, harder.
She sucked in a sharp breath. “Yes.”
His chest puffed with smug pride. He wanted her as mindless with passion as he was. As desperate for escape, for pleasure, for abandon. The hours she’d slept had crept by like days. Ewan couldn’t believe it was impossible to miss someone who was in the same room, but he’d counted the minutes until sundown when she’d wake.
“Get naked.”
Too many clothes separated them. He wanted bare skin and he wanted it now.
Sasha scooted off his lap and climbed off the bed. Gods, her beauty stole his breath. Her dark hair was tousled from sleep and a blush of passion painted her cheeks. Silver rimmed her irises, lending a wildness to her otherwise serene countenance. She reached around her back and slowly unhooked her bra. Her gaze held his as she dragged the straps down her arms. Slowly. She brought her arms in front of her and it pressed the enticing swell of her breasts over the cups for a torturous moment before she discarded the garment to the floor. Ewan’s gaze was drawn to the soft, pale roundness of her breasts and the delicate pink pearls of her nipples. She toed off her socks and her pants went next. Clad in nothing but a pair of lacy white underwear, she paused as she fiddled with the waistband.
A sweet, guileless smile curved her dark pink lips. “These, too?”
He’d never seen this playful, teasing side of her. Ewan himself had never been a lighthearted male and he found he didn’t quite know how to react. His world was made of hard edges and cold, focused, strategic thought. Strength and force. He didn’t know softness. Playfulness. Only since he’d met Sasha had he experienced the sensation of tension melting from his body. She fiddled with the lacy waistband, urging the fabric over her hip, giving him a teasing glimpse of the junction where her hip met her thigh. She eased the fabric back into place and waited, her expectant gaze holding his.
Ewan swallowed against the lump in his throat. “Those, too. Now.”
Sasha’s expression heated and her lips parted on a breath. She reached for her underwear and stripped the garment from her thighs and stepped out of the legs. Ewan’s stomach clenched as she drew her bottom lip between her teeth. One sharp fang nicked the skin and she licked the blood away. Gods, he’d never known something so simple could be so erotic. “I have a lot less clothes on than you do now.”
“True.” And he was going to take care of that right fucking now.
“Think you might want to join me in the no-clothes movement?”
Again, she teased him and Ewan had no idea how to react. There wasn’t a playful bone in his body. He climbed off the bed to the opposite side and quickly stripped. For a quiet moment, they stared at one another, the bed separating them. Ewan was a fighter. A soldier. His world was about giving and following orders. Though he had to admit he’d never been much of a willing follower, as evidenced by his recent rebellious streak. He was more comfortable leading. He wanted to command. And he expected to be obeyed.
“Get on the bed.”
Sasha’s gaze smoldered. A corner of her mouth curved upward and without a word, she did as he asked, laying herself out on the mattress. Ewan’s cock throbbed as the memory of Sasha bound and tied to the bed at the sex club invaded his thoughts. Gods, she’d driven him wild that night. And how he’d loved her submissiveness. She understood his need to be in charge and didn’t fight it.
She raised her arms above her and gripped the slats on the headboard as if she’d read this thoughts and wanted to return to that night as well. She shifted, her thighs rubbing together and Ewan’s attention wandered to the slick, glistening flesh of her pussy.
“Spread your legs.”
Her knees fell open.
“Wider.”
Again, she complied without a word of protest.
Ewan moved to the foot of the bed. The image of Sasha stretched out on the bed, his to do with what he wanted, burned itself into his memory. He climbed up onto the mattress and slid his hands beneath Sasha’s ass, cupping the round curves in his palms before pushing her upward toward his waiting mouth.
Her hips bucked and she cried out as his tongue slid against her sex. Soft, easy passes not meant to do anything other than stoke the fires of her passion. Ewan wanted a slow build. He wanted her writhing and begging. Mindless with need. He wanted to brand her with the pleasure he gave her so she would know without a doubt no other male would be able to give her what he did.
According to Sasha, her soul was already bound to his. But Ewan wanted more.
He continued his unhurried assault, careful to keep his pace slow and even. The pressure of his mouth against her jus
t enough to guide her to the edge but not enough to push her over. Her panting breaths and tight moans spurred him on. The slats of the headboard creaked as she gripped them tighter. The muscles of her thighs twitched against his cheeks as he dipped his tongue inside of her to fully taste the honey sweetness.
He couldn’t get enough of her. She was incomparable. He knew that a relationship between them would be impossible. Too many obstacles stood in their way. But he also knew that he would set the world on fire before he’d ever let her go.
The sound of her heartbeat echoed in his ears, soft whooshing pulses that somehow calmed the inborn rage that always simmered beneath the surface of his skin. He’d never known the sort of peace that being with Sasha provided. She was shelter from a storm. Warmth on a cold night. Water to quench his thirst and sustenance to satisfy his hunger. His tongue swirled over her clit and she let out a whimper. He sealed his mouth over that same spot to suck gently and her whimper transformed to a decadent moan. He spread her wide with his fingertips to graze the tight bead with his teeth and a violent shudder wracked her body. She balanced on the razor’s edge and he could give her what she needed with nothing more than a little push.
He wanted it. Wanted his senses to be awash with her pleasure. Wanted her to come against his mouth, to bathe his tongue in her sweetness. It didn’t matter whether or not she could wait any longer. Ewan couldn’t.
He laid the flat of his tongue to her clit and reached up with his right hand to cup the roundness of one breast. His fingers plucked at the pearled nipple at the exact moment he swirled his tongue over her pussy. Sasha’s body tensed as she drew in a sharp breath that she released as several shuddering sobs of pleasure.