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Fury of Obsession (Dragonfury Series Book 5)

Page 8

by Coreene Callahan


  With a hum, Venom gave it to her, nipping her bottom lip before dipping inside. Hunger rose, urging him to deepen the contact. Venom killed the impulse. Slow and steady. A little at a time, and she would submit. Be his for the taking. One hundred percent committed to the sexual play. So he kept each caress light, brushing her mouth with each pass, tempting her to open for him, teasing her with his tongue until—

  He dipped inside her mouth, and . . . oh God. She was a dream come true. His ticket to untold pleasure.

  Venom’s breath caught as she became the aggressor. Popping onto her tiptoes, she slipped her hands into his hair and pressed closer. Breasts brushing his chest, Evelyn grazed his scalp with her nails and kissed him back. With a groan, he opened wide, begged for more without words, praying she gave it to him, and—thank Silfer. She didn’t deny him. Accepting his tongue, she deepened the contact. Her taste invaded his mouth. Desire went cataclysmic, cranking him tight and . . .

  Frigging hell.

  She was unbelievable. So goddamn good he needed another round. More of her skin against his. More of her taste in his mouth. More of the sexy sounds that she made. Right now. This instant. He couldn’t wait a moment longer. Didn’t know how to stop the sensual slide. Or slow his rapid spiral into mindless need. His brain was fried, ping-ponging all over the place, killing rational thought along with his restraint. Now he couldn’t string two thoughts together, never mind control his descent into bliss-fueled oblivion.

  He was losing control. Coming apart at the seams. Allowing a female to lead him.

  Something he never tolerated.

  Dominant in bed, he always dictated the play. The tempo too. But somehow, Evelyn pushed past his limits. Now he was lost. In a lifeboat and at sea with nothing but her to guide him home. Not a good idea. He was so much bigger—so much stronger, a Dragonkind male in control of powerful magic and a venomous nature. Which didn’t bode well for her if he couldn’t . . . if he didn’t . . .

  Goddamn it. He needed to bear down and reassert himself. Put his brain back in gear and yank Evelyn out of the driver’s seat. The toxins in his veins—and the damage he could do to her without meaning to—dictated the play. He had rules. Ones he followed to the letter, no matter what when dealing with females. The first and most crucial? He kept his cool . . . at all times. The second, third, and fourth? Deliver bone-melting pleasure, receive some in return, then get out before the female ended up injured.

  Tonight, however, his rules had gone to hell and not come back.

  In the space of a few minutes, the landscape had shifted, dragging awareness to the forefront of realization. Evelyn did something strange to him. His reaction to her surpassed need and pushed passed want. Somehow. Some way. For some reason, his dragon half recognized her for what she was—the missing piece to an unfinished puzzle. Venom frowned as instinct screwed with his mental map, leaving him with a crazy conclusion.

  Maybe the rules didn’t apply to her.

  Maybe . . . just maybe . . . Evelyn could take him all the way. Forget the usual forty minutes. He could take his time. Be as intense as he liked. Stay as long as he wanted. All night. Into the wee hours of the morning and throughout the day—without hurting her.

  His dragon half served up the facts.

  Venom kissed her again. Deeper. Harder. Taking her mouth with enough ferocity to test his theory. Paying attention to every nuance, he walked her backward. Her back bumped the wall and he pressed in, caging her in his arms. She moaned and tightened her grip in his hair. With a murmur, he cupped her backside and, hands sliding over silk, lifted her feet off the floor. A precise shift put him in front of the dresser. Tangling his tongue with hers, he set her down on the wooden edge.

  The flat screen TV wobbled behind her.

  Venom didn’t care. The place could fall down, break into pieces around him, and he wouldn’t have noticed. He was too busy with Evelyn, kissing her, shoving her skirt up, settling his hips between the spread of her thighs. Gasping his name, she hooked her knee over his hip and arched in welcome. The Meridian surged, hammering him with a pulsing wave of energy. His brain buzzed, scrambling reason, destroying restraint. Unable to resist her, he drank deep, glutting himself on the astounding taste of her. Magic crackled in his veins. His body hummed, prickling with vitality as she moaned into his mouth. The soft sound gripped his heart. And realization struck.

  She was more than just an HE female.

  Evelyn was energy personified. Powerful and intense, the ideal bedmate. At least, for him. Her bio-energy—the frequency at which she connected to the Meridian—matched his . . . perfectly. No deviation in the energy fields. Not a single thread out of place. Which meant she could satisfy him. Was designed to feed him until he was full and keep him healthy. Could love him into oblivion without suffering a single side effect.

  Shock struck like a closed fist.

  His breath shuddered, stalling inside his chest.

  He flinched, then froze. His mouth against hers, he struggled to understand. It defied reason. Simply couldn’t be, and yet, the truth circled, refusing to be denied. Despite everything he knew about himself—and the curse of his venomous nature—she proved him wrong. The glory of her bio-energy—the absolute beauty of her—cinched it, pushing past shock to reveal the truth.

  Evelyn belonged to him.

  He belonged to her.

  They’d been made for each other.

  He’d found his mate. His equal in every way. The only female who would ever match and meet his needs . . . in a fancy hotel under unsettling circumstances. Holy shit. It was wild. Nearly incomprehensible. He’d imagined her so often. Pictured her in his mind’s eye over and over. Again and again. What she would look like. How she would feel. The sound of her voice along with the unfettered intimacy she would bring into his life. Venom quivered against her. His hands started to shake. Goddamn. He’d dreamed and hoped and prayed. All without believing he had a chance of finding her. Ever. But here, in this moment, he held her in his arms. Was a breath away from claiming what he longed to possess. A female to call his own. Which meant . . .

  He needed to stop. Right now.

  He couldn’t claim her this way. Refused to make love to her with money on the line. The claiming needed to be pure and honest, a meeting of minds, hearts, and bodies. Not like this—two strangers in a passionate exchange that meant nothing and would mean even less in the aftermath. The realization sent him spinning. Digging in, Venom stopped the mental whirl and, tucking desire back into its box, gentled the kiss.

  Evelyn grumbled, protesting his retreat.

  The sexy sound made him come back. He kissed her again. And then again. One more time before he pulled back to cup her cheek. Her face settled in the palm of his hand and . . . oh, man. He was an idiot. For smothering the incendiary burn of desire. For coming to his senses. For allowing Evelyn to come to hers. But with his conscience screaming and his mate in his arms, Venom couldn’t fault his reasoning.

  Or deny pulling back was the right thing to do.

  Respect and caring ran hand in hand. He must start as he meant to go on. Do the right thing and protect his female. Even if it meant shielding her from himself.

  Exhaling long and slow, he palmed her waist. “Evie, open your eyes.”

  Slim fingers playing in his hair, she shook her head. “Kiss me again. I forget with your mouth on mine. Please, kiss me again.”

  “Later—if you like.”

  “No.” Her grip on him tightened. Shifting in suggestion, she tried to pull him closer. Venom tensed and held the line. No way would he allow her to manipulate him. No matter how much he wanted her, he wouldn’t give in. He wanted to talk. Needed to know more about her before it went any further. Not that Evelyn cared. Wielding desire like a whip, she leaned in and nipped his bottom lip, lashing him with lust, using greed against him. Venom cursed. She smiled against his mouth. “Now, Venom. If
you want me to stay, kiss me again.”

  The ultimatum firmed his resolve. Her bossy tone sealed the deal.

  Little vixen. Beautiful temptress. No chance in hell he’d let her dictate the play. Not while he stood between her thighs with her half-dressed in his arms. “You’re not going anywhere, Evie. Not until I let you.”

  She tensed. “Are you threatening me?”

  “No. I would never hurt you, mazleiha,” he murmured, calling her sweetheart in Dragonese. “Never in a million years, but I want to talk, so . . . look at me.”

  Her thick lashes flickered. Wary brown eyes met his. “Aren’t we past talking?”

  “Not by a long shot.”

  “Why?” she asked, sounding confused. “I thought you wanted me.”

  “I do want you. More than I should, but . . .” Venom trailed off, wondering how best to broach the subject. Should he come out and ask? Hope he didn’t cross the line and stick his nose where it didn’t belong? She might take offense. Decide he was a possessive asshole. Maybe even one of those obsessive stalker types. Venom smothered a grimace. Probably not far from the truth. At least, not for him when it came to her. “How often do you do this, Evie?”

  She frowned. “Why does it matter?”

  “It matters to me,” he said, refusing to back down. “How often?”

  “Never. You’re my first client.”

  Venom exhaled in a rush. Thank God. Good news. She wasn’t a call girl at all. At least, not yet. She wouldn’t be either. Not if he had anything to say about it. A telling reaction, considering his aversion to judging others. He wasn’t a saint, and it wasn’t his place to decide what was right for another. Still, he couldn’t deny his relief. No woman should ever have to sell her body. And like it or not, he hated that Evelyn found herself here—inside the Luxmore, forced into the arms of a stranger for money.

  It wasn’t her style.

  Her level of polish and sophistication told him that much. Her body language—along with the uncertainty in her eyes—explained the rest. Given half a chance, she would run. Leave the swanky hotel behind and never look back. The realization unleashed his curiosity, dragging the need to know into the foreground. Now he wanted to learn everything about her—the why and how of her circumstances.

  “I’m glad. I like the idea of being your first.” As she huffed, he raised his hand and, unable to stop touching her, brushed an errant curl from her cheek. “Why are you doing it?”

  “None of your business.”

  “I just made it my business.”

  “You have no right.”

  “Untrue.” He had every right. More than any other male on the planet. It didn’t matter that he was new to her—or that Evelyn didn’t yet know she belonged to him. With a gentle touch, he shackled her wrist and turned her elbow out, exposing the inside of her forearm. Marks, the shape of fingernails, on her skin. The beginnings of bruises as well. Someone had manhandled her. Very recently too. Brushing his thumb over the nicks on her arm, Venom bit down on a snarl. “Is someone threatening you?”

  She shook her head.

  Intuition spiked, making his dragon senses sharpen. “I can protect you, mazleiha—but you have to let me.”

  “I’m fine.”

  Oh, so not true. A big lie. She was anything but fine. “Evie—”

  “Really,” she said, a stubborn lilt in her voice. “My self-defense class got a little rough, that’s all.”

  More lies . . . or the truth?

  Venom couldn’t tell. Evelyn had a poker face most males would envy. Toss in her tolerance to his magic, the ability to shut him out by veiling her thoughts, and . . . yeah. No way could he get an accurate read on her. Which meant he needed to up the ante. Make her squirm a little in order to make her talk.

  Gaze boring into hers, Venom pressed his hips between her thighs. Her breath caught a second before her eyes narrowed in warning. With a quick twist, she broke his hold on her wrist and laid both palms flat on his chest. Arm muscles flexing, she pushed him away. He didn’t move. Evelyn shoved him again, the message clear—back off, buddy—as she tried to jump down from the edge of the dresser.

  “How much trouble are you in?” he asked, ignoring her defiance, pissing her off by being too pushy.

  Unable to budge him, she leveled her chin.

  Her bravado lasted a moment. Less than an instant before shame stole into her expression. Color bloomed in her cheeks as she looked away and . . . ah, hell. There it was—the vulnerability he sensed behind the tough facade she presented to the world. Venom’s throat went tight. He understood what drove her. Too much pride. Rampant mistrust. The belief safety existed in self-reliance and being alone.

  “Tell me, Evie.” Placing his finger beneath her chin, Venom turned her face back toward him, forcing her to meet his gaze. “I won’t let you go until you do.”

  “It’s nothing serious.”

  Venom gave her a no-nonsense look.

  She squirmed. “Look, I really am all right. I don’t need help with anything, I just . . .” Tugging on the neckline of her dress, she covered up. “God. This is so embarrassing.”

  “Just say it.”

  “I lost my job a few months ago, okay? I need the money.”

  “Bills to pay?” he asked, hating her discomfort as much as his high-handedness. But as much as it chafed him, getting to the truth was more important than her embarrassment. He couldn’t help her, after all, if he didn’t understand the problem. “Creditors?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I’ll make you a deal.”

  Her brows furrowed. “What kind of deal?”

  “Exclusivity. No other males but me. No more meeting strangers in hotel rooms.”

  “But—”

  “Each time we meet, you’ll get another three grand.”

  Reaching around her, he grabbed the roll of hundreds sitting on the dresser. Her gaze bounced from him to the cash, then back again. Perched between his fingertips, he wagged the bundle, using the money as an incentive. One designed to dial down her resistance. An excellent approach to a stubborn female. He could see it in her eyes—the need to go it alone and clean up her mess. So yeah, the bribe served a purpose. Evelyn would get to keep her pride and solve her own problems. And he’d succeed in keeping her out of another male’s bed while he wooed her into acceptance.

  Without having to kidnap her.

  In the same way his Nightfury brothers had been forced to do with their mates.

  The realization struck with the force of a dump truck at full tilt. Venom sucked in a breath. Holy shit. What an idea. A sappy one, sure, but . . . wow. It held the power to slay him. Now he couldn’t deny its appeal. He longed for the experience. Wanted a chance to spend time with Evelyn outside the lair—to go on real dates, to court her, treat her right and—

  “Why are you helping me?”

  Her voice dragged him out of the fantasy. His gaze snapped back to hers. “Because I can. And I don’t like to share.”

  Surprise surfaced in her eyes.

  Venom raised a brow. “So . . . do we have an agreement?”

  Swallowing hard, she nodded. “Okay.”

  “Good.” Satisfaction roared as he set the money in her hand.

  Looking confused—and beyond adorable—she whispered, “Thanks.”

  Feeling lighter than he had in ages, Venom gave her a quick kiss, caressed the outsides of her thighs one last time, then stepped back. Palming her waist, he lifted her off the wooden lip. The second her feet touched down, he turned her to face the TV. Watching her reflection in the dark pane, he zipped the back of her dress. Smooth skin disappeared behind pale silk, making regret rise and his heart throb.

  Venom smothered a grimace. Had he said idiot earlier? Well, he’d meant brainless. No way he should be zipping her back up instead of stripping her bare. The im
age streamed into his head—of Evelyn. Naked, bowed in supplication beneath him.

  His erection throbbed in protest.

  Resisting the urge to adjust his button fly, Venom cleared his throat and gave her a gentle push. “Grab your things, mazleiha. We’re done for tonight.”

  “And tomorrow?”

  “You meet me for dinner at eight.”

  “Where?”

  “Figorelli’s . . . west side of town.”

  “Italian?”

  “Any objections?”

  She shook her head and, using one of the club chairs for balance, slipped back into her sexy stilettos. Venom breathed in through his nose, then out his mouth. Goddamn. She really did have the longest legs he’d ever seen. Evelyn straightened and shrugged into her wrap. He smoothed his expression, giving nothing away as she met his gaze from across the room.

  “I’ll meet you there,” she whispered, walking toward him.

  Enjoying the sensual sway of her hips, he nodded. “One other thing.”

  “What?”

  “I want your full name.”

  Not that he needed it. She’d fed him from the Meridian—source of all living things. Now he could track the trace energy she left in her wake anywhere. The full name was for Sloan. For the information Venom wanted his buddy to pull off the web about her. He needed to know more before he came face to face with her again.

  “Evelyn Victoria . . .” She paused to sling her purse over her shoulder, then sidestepped on three-inch heels, walking between him and the bed. Leaving him behind, she headed for the door. “Foxe . . . spelled F-O-X-E.”

  His mouth curved.

  Foxe. As in foxy as hell. The name suited her better than sweetheart. Which . . . frigging hell . . . made him want to abandon his principles. Forget right—throw it out the nearest window while he embraced wrong, whisked her away to Black Diamond, and . . .

  Made her his.

  “Go, Evie,” he said, clinging to resolve by his fingernails. “Before I change my mind and ask you to stay.”

  Footfalls silent on the plush carpet, she reached the door. Her hand on the knob, she paused to look over her shoulder. Uncertainty in her eyes, she met his gaze. Seconds ticked into more before her expression softened. “Hey, Venom?”

 

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