by Terry Spear
She battled the burning urgency that consumed her and refused to give in to her baser longings. Yet her fingers itched to comb his unbound hair, and she yearned to press against his firm, naked body.
His velvet tongue, tasting of the richest wine, probed hers and intoxicated her. He slid his hands down her arms and caressed. The cashmere sweater slipped against her sensitive skin as she—a telepath who could not be hypnotized by a vampire—fell under his charm. A split second of panic made her feel vulnerable to his vampiric magnetism. Then she realized he couldn’t control her in that way, nor she him.
Leaning into his kiss, she gave in to the lust. She wouldn’t allow herself to call it anything other than a raging desire to satisfy primitive needs. She wouldn’t fight the growing attraction any longer. Her fingers gripped his back and held on as she teetered precariously at the edge of a jagged cliff.
His mouth shifted down her jaw, and she closed her eyes, knowing the bloodlust called to him, compelling him to feed. Her pulse pounded in her ears, and the sound must be an aphrodisiac to him.
Worse, she tilted her chin up and offered herself to him, encouraging him to take her while she raked her fingers through his sable hair, fanning the satiny strands over his broad shoulders.
Daemon’s tongue traced her throat, sending exquisite shivers down her skin. His hands shifted to her breasts, his fingertips caressing her swollen nipples. She moaned as his touch destroyed any last resolve to keep him away.
Without warning, he suddenly separated from her, muttering under his breath in some ancient language, and she guessed by his angry tone it was a curse.
His jaw ticked, his smoky gaze refocused on her, the heat in his eyes still simmering. He communicated his thoughts to his brother, “Tell Lichorus all is well with the SCU. I’m sure this will make her feel much better.”
Lichorus again.
Before she could question who the troublemaking vampire was, Daemon took her face in his hands and leaned over to kiss her.
His heavy erection pressed against her belly. Her own panties were damp in anticipation. Jeez, what was she thinking? She wanted to help her sister, destroy Krustalus, ensure the SCU didn’t turn Portland inside out looking for her, and so what does she do? Offers her throat and everything else to a vampire.
His powerful fingers chased away the tension in her shoulders. What she wouldn’t give for a man’s touch like that every evening after a day of investigations.
He kissed her mouth, stealing her breath. Controlled, he pressured her to respond. Shaking loose her reservations, she kissed him back. Her tongue tangled with his. Her body molded with his hard form. Wanting all of him, she craved the intimacy only lovers captured.
He slipped her sweater over her head, then plied her mouth with his heated kisses. Her fingers explored the fluid way his biceps moved, strong and resilient. He growled and reached behind her for the fastener on her bra.
“In front,” she said against his mouth.
With a snap, he unfastened the bra and tossed it away. Afterwards, he moved so fast, before she knew it she was naked in his arms, then on the bed.
His arousal pressed into her waist, his dark eyes nearly black. His jaw tightened, and she assumed his canines itched to extend, but he fought revealing them.
She looked away from his entrancing gaze, knowing his hypnotic qualities could compel most humans to his will. “W-will you make love to me?” She ran her fingers over his chest, touched his nipples with feather-light sweeps of her fingertips, forcing him to growl. “Will you?”
“Why?”
His erection pressed against her, and she wanted to feel him deep inside her. Why? She knew he wanted her. She knew he’d had lots of lovers before, had to have, as ancient as he was. So why not have an experienced lover like him? No commitment. No one would ever know.
But more than that, she desired to learn why her grandmother had fallen for a vampire. If the one she’d loved was anything like Daemon…Tezra was beginning to understand the compelling attraction. She wanted to know why blood bonds offered their blood so readily—drawn to the vampire’s power. She craved feeling real pleasure like hunter lovers had denied her.
Or was she the one who was incapable of having great sex? Something psychological that impeded her happiness? She had to know.
She got up the nerve and said, “I’ve never…” She meant to say, “…had a lover who was all that great,” but Daemon smiled, the look as self-satisfied as ever, as if he knew.
She shoved at him to get him off her. “Forget it. Let me up.”
“You’ll permit me to feed?”
“You won’t turn me.” Even though she wanted him to. Whatever it took to rescue her sister. Once he made love to her, would he change his mind? She was willing to risk anything.
“I told you I wouldn’t. I’ll make love to you, feed and…nothing more.” The glint in his eye suggested amusement, intrigue and something else. Conceit, most likely. Arrogance, that after he made love to her, she wouldn’t want anyone else.
He kissed her more slowly now, not in such a rush. As if he believed he’d won her over already, or maybe he realized he had one shot to prove to her she’d want no other.
She folded her arms beneath her head.
He stopped and looked at her, a smile tugging at his lips. Ooh, he could be so exasperatingly superior.
“What?” she said, her tongue laced with poison.
“You would enjoy the experience more if you participated.”
“What you mean is you would enjoy it more. I don’t want to get you so stirred up that you forget you’re only making love to me this one time.”
“I won’t forget. Participate, or not. I’ll enjoy watching you take pleasure anyway.”
He gave her a devilish smirk as if he didn’t think one time would be enough, then touched his lips to hers while his hands moved from her shoulders to her breasts.
She took in a deep breath of him, memorizing his scrumptious spicy scent, the feel of his hands caressing her breasts, the way he moved against her, hotter than a summer drought.
His eyes clouded over when she combed her fingers through the silky strands of hair, and his fingers stilled on the tips of her breasts. Breathless, he waited, and she realized then how much her touch affected him. Power. Having control over the ancient one incited her to touch him more. She ran her hands over his back, the muscles tightening, tensing.
His body had stilled, but now he rubbed his erection against her waist. His mouth moved lower, trailing kisses along her throat, down her breastbone, then fastened to her breast and suckled, long and hard. Bliss stroked her nerves, pleasuring her like never before.
“Do it,” she whispered, her voice lost with the feelings he elicited from her, her nipple puckering into a hardened nub, the other waiting in hopeful expectancy.
He smiled at her, then switched to the other breast, giving it its due. “Patience.”
Patience wasn’t one of her virtues either. She pressed against his arousal, attempting to push for a quicker resolution. His lips turned up darkly, and his fingers drew lower as hers moved down his waist, tracing the hardness to his buttocks. God, if she could only have a butt as sinfully firm as his.
He shifted off her, and she worried he was going to stop. She held onto him, her lips parted to object, until he slid his fingers over her mound, down, dipping deep inside her, stroking, retreating.
Barely breathing, she tensed, squeezing his buttocks. His fondling intensified the feeling of near euphoria, higher, higher. She reached for the peak.
Shifting, twisting under his fingers’ skillful touch, pushing against him, wanting more, she craved having him deep inside her at the same time.
“Make love to me,” she whispered.
“I am,” he said, his voice husky and deep.
He held himself back with the utmost restraint, his neck so tense it looked like it could snap. Why?
The bloodlust. He was keeping his canines from extending.
He wanted to make love to her like she’d asked, wanted to pleasure her first to allow her time to change her mind.
But she wouldn’t change her mind.
“Make love to me, Daemon, and feed. I offer my blood to you freely.” And my life for one of a vampiress, if she could convince him to do the deed.
“Hmm, Tezra.” He renewed his strokes, the kisses. He teased her nipples with his velvet tongue, then sucked on them with a vengeance.
And she felt in heaven, craving more and more, like an addict needing a fix.
She rocked against his fingers, trying to push the climax. She climbed to the top of the peak, felt the exhilaration, the warmth wash through her like a warm Caribbean wave in summer. She moaned his name with exquisite pleasure, never having experienced anything so satisfying. Delightful aftershocks rippled through her body.
Daemon’s eyes smiled, and his lips curved just a hint. She loved how he seemed to take pleasure in pleasuring her, just as he said he would.
Not wasting another second, Daemon pushed the siren’s legs apart with his knee, then worked his way between them. “We will only make love and I’ll feed, but I won’t change you,” he reassured her, having lost the battle to keep his distance the minute she said she wanted him.
He desired to take it slow, but her willingness and soft moans had pushed him faster than he’d intended. His damnable canines threatened to extend, and fighting them had given him a painful crick in the jaw.
He couldn’t refuse to make love to her and feed, not the way she’d aroused him, yet he couldn’t calm her like he could any human. If she grew scared when he bit her, he could hurt her, bruise her, tear her skin unnecessarily.
“Tezra.” He stroked her hair and kissed her lips. “I won’t be able to stop once I start. I haven’t fed for too long.”
She caressed his face, her green eyes dark with desire. “I want you to, Daemon. Please.”
He nuzzled her cheek, gently moving her face to the side to expose her throat, testing her resolve. “Sweet, Tezra, relax.” He spoke calmly, with patience, though he couldn’t control his canines much longer.
She took several deep breaths.
Touching her throat with light sweeping strokes of his tongue, he centered himself between her legs and entered slowly. She sucked in her breath. He backed out and tried again, slipping into her velvet glove, the territory a tight fit. Stroking his back, she kissed the top of his head, spreading her legs to open herself up to him further, encouraging him to continue. Her pelvic muscles tightened, narrowing the passage to nearly impassable.
“Relax,” he whispered against her breast, his tongue teasing the raised nipple, so delicious to taste. When he tugged on it with his lips, her pleasurable moan stirred his libido more.
He lifted his face and studied the way she breathed so quickly and her pulse fluttered rapidly under the skin. His teeth extended, his mind no longer in control, he tilted his head back, closed his eyes and thrust his erection deep inside her.
She gasped but held him tight. He pulled out slowly, then buried into her tight sheath, drawing out the pleasure.
Her vitality called to him, begged him to take his fill. He licked the sweet skin of her throat, preparing himself to take some of her life force, to share another experience with her, to love her completely the vampire way.
He pricked her skin with his canines, and her eyes opened, startled, but she couldn’t object, not as far as he had gone. His erection pulsed as he dove into her heat, farther and deeper, then he sank his canines into her neck. She sighed with gratification, the way a blood bond did when a vampire pleasured her.
“Oh, Daemon.” She thrust her hips against him, making him finish what he’d begun. She touched his waist with tender strokes, titillating him.
Her blood tasted like the richest burgundy wine, satisfying the craving he had for her…for the moment. Yet, for an instant, he had the insane urge to take her for his own.
He licked the drops of blood, sealing the wounds while he continued to thrust into her. Then with a headiness he’d never experienced, waves of heat flowed through every pore, his skin saturated with sweat.
With one last push, his seed spread through her. He sank against her soft, warm body, covered lightly in perspiration and the fragrance of peaches and Tezra’s sweet sex.
She came again, her muscles clamping over his erection, holding tightly, claiming him for her own. He’d never felt so satisfied, so complete, yet with a sinking feeling, he knew nothing could ever come of his relationship with her. He rolled onto his back and pulled her on top of him.
He hadn’t planned for Lichorus’s telepathic communication, and he was glad the vamp sent the message straight to him so that Tezra didn’t hear it. “I have discovered information about the police killings. If you meet me now, I will give it to you, my darling prince.”
“You will give it to me now, Lichorus, unless you do not stand by me as you have promised.”
He could almost sense her smiling, but would the vamp give him the news or not? Or was it just a ploy on her behalf to stir up more trouble?
“Give her up, my prince, and I will tell you anything.”
Daemon sensed Lichorus’s trap, closed his eyes and wrapped a wall around his mind to terminate her communication with him. He would not be misled by her now or ever.
Tezra gave a sad smile and closed her eyes, but not before he saw the moisture gathering in the corners. Her warm tears dropped on his bare chest, nearly unmanning him.
Her silky skin rested against Daemon’s. Her shallow breath tickled his chest, and her springtime fragrance scented the air. He ran his hand down her back with a gentle caress, his thoughts in turmoil. “Did I hurt you?”
“No.” She sniffled.
“Did I push too fast?”
“I-I shouldn’t have wanted this. Not when everything’s so wrong. I don’t deserve…” Shimmering with tears, her eyes locked on his for an instant, then she looked away.
Before Daemon could respond, she left the bed and quickly dressed.
“Tezra—”
She waved her hand to silence him. Him! The leader of the vampire clans in America!
“Where are the stolen tissue samples? I need to look at them.” She kept her eyes averted as if she was ashamed of herself.
“What don’t you deserve, Tezra?”
But she wouldn’t say. He realized then as much as she needed to heal, she needed someone who would be her mate forever. Not someone like him who had no intention of taking a mate again. So why did he feel like he’d slipped into the bloody pits of hell?
Downstairs the doorbell rang, and Atreides warned, “Five armed hunters at the door, Daemon. I don’t think it’s a social visit.”
Chapter Eight
His thoughts focused on the hunter menace standing at his front door, Daemon dressed in a flash. But Tezra grabbed his arm before he could leave the bedroom, her eyes reflecting deep-seated worry.
“Let me speak with them first,” she implored.
He brushed the hair away from her cheek. “They can’t take you away from me. From here, I mean,” he amended, hating that he’d made the mistake. “I can provide better security for you than they can.”
“I agree. I want to stay with you. Until the murderer is eliminated.”
“All right. We go together, but I won’t back down concerning you staying here with me.” He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. As soon as he did, he regretted his action. She melted in his embrace, and he was reminded she needed someone to care for her more than he could commit to.
Transporting her to the front door where Atreides and Voltan stood silently blocking the hunters’ entry, Daemon felt white-hot tension in the air. He quickly released Tezra, severing their connection. He wanted to shove her behind him so he could protect her from the hunters, but fought the urge. They were not here to harm her, he assured himself.
One of the older hunters, gray-haired but tanned and trim, gave Dae
mon a cursory look, then turned his attention to Tezra as if the ancient vampire was of no consequence. But Daemon knew damn well the hunter wasn’t that naïve.
“Tezra Campbell, we’re here to escort you safely to SCU headquarters.”
“Thank you, Gavin, but while the killer vampire is on the loose, I prefer remaining here under Daemon’s protection.”
“I would speak to you alone,” Gavin said.
Before Tezra could reply, Daemon said, “No.”
The look she gave him could have sliced a watermelon in two. “I’ve already told you I intend to stay here,” she said to Gavin.
“You’re not…yourself.” Gavin glanced at the vampires, emphasizing his point.
“I’m not under their control, if that’s what you’re inferring.”
One of the hunters unsheathed his sword with a whoosh. Voltan drew the one he had at his back, and Daemon’s canines instantly extended.
“The senior staff wants to speak with you,” Gavin said, his tone more conciliatory. “If they agree, you can return here.”
Daemon intended to tell the hunters, tactfully, where they could go, but Tezra took the lead. “Have them call me, and we’ll talk.”
“You face expulsion,” Gavin said, his voice hard.
“Hmm, well, if Krustalus—my parents’ murderer—gets hold of me, expulsion from the SCU will be the least of my troubles. Tell Senior Staff Member Ingrid that I’m staying here until Daemon takes down the killer.” She patted Daemon’s arm, surprising the hell out of him. “He’ll watch out for me until then.”
Gavin’s gray eyes narrowed while he considered Daemon. “What if he’s in league with the killer?”
“Like they’re all cut from the same evil cloth, right, Gavin?”
He gave a haughty snort. “Coming from you, that’s laughable.”
Tezra’s cheeks colored. “I’m staying here.” Before anyone could say anything more, she slammed the door in the hunter’s face.
“That went well,” Atreides said, then looked out the peephole. “They’re arguing about what they’re going to do now.”