Fury of Obsession (Dragonfury Series Book 5)

by Coreene Callahan

“No.” Ruby gaze pinned on her, he shook his head. “I would die to protect you. The possession part is entirely up to you.”

  “Oh my God. You’re talking in circles,” she whispered. Pressure built behind her eyes. Bowing her head, Evelyn pressed the heels of her palms to her orbital sockets. The clampdown didn’t help. Pain tightened its grip instead, refusing to abate, making her temples throb. “What the hell is going on?”

  “I know you’re scared. What you saw tonight is shocking, but—”

  “It’s not that.” Leveling her chin, Evelyn rubbed the sore spot between her eyes. “I mean it is, but . . .” Drawing a choppy breath, she flicked her hands, the gesture one of helplessness born of fatigue. “It’s more than that too.”

  “Tell me.”

  She shook her head.

  “Come on, mazleiha,” he said, tone so soothing her heart panged. Tears rose in reaction, pooling in her eyes. Concern on his face, Venom stared at her a moment, then closed the distance. He stopped in front of her. Raising his hand, he cupped the side of her throat. He tugged. Evelyn didn’t resist. She went without protest, letting him pull her into his arms. Heat prickled over her nape. Relief washed in, arriving on a warm wave of sensation. “I was meant to find you, Evie. I mean to protect you. Please, talk to me. Let me help.”

  His entreaty obliterated her will to resist.

  The dam broke, cracking her wide open. The truth spilled out before she could stop it. “It’s too much—the last straw, you know? I’ve been holding it together with a shoestring, trying everything I can think of to stay in one piece. But no matter what I do it keeps getting worse—first my mom, then Markov and the money, my job too. Now Mema and the whole dragon thing. It’s too much, Venom. I can’t handle any more.”

  “I understand, Evie.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  One hand caressing her back, he slid the other to her nape. “You’re not alone, love.”

  “Then why do I feel like I am?”

  “Because it always feels worse in the moment than it actually is.”

  “Maybe,” she said, half huff, half hiccup.

  He could say anything he liked, but nothing changed the facts. With Mema gone, she was alone in the world. Without family. Without a lifeline. One hundred percent on her own. Funny thing, though? Venom was right. Talking to him helped. Admitting her problems—facing her fears—made her feel less afraid. More optimistic too, something she needed more than a paycheck. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to hope. Maybe things would get better. Maybe her problems weren’t insurmountable. Maybe she could do something else, change tack, find other solutions, concentrate on figuring out her life instead of running scared.

  The idea took root.

  Belief and conviction collided, dragging possibility into the picture. Muscles twisted by stress loosened. Evelyn relaxed with a sigh, welcoming relief as the knot in the center of her chest unraveled.

  “Feel better?”

  “A little,” she whispered. “You’ve got serious Dr. Phil skills.”

  He smiled against the top of her head. “I’m a fix-it ninja.”

  Evelyn snorted. The urge to laugh surprised her. She smiled anyway. Good lord, he said the strangest things. Funny things. Charming things. Which equated to big trouble for her. He became more appealing by the moment. His sense of humor added to the sexy-as-sin vibe he carried around like cargo and . . . boy, oh boy. Watch out world. She was headed for a fall. One that would end with her flat on her back while Venom stripped her bare.

  “Hey, Evie?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Markov I’ve figured out. Who’s Mema?”

  “My grandmother.” Her heart clenched. Grief spilled out as an image of Mema rose inside her head. Flower apron on, wooden spoon raised, eyes twinkling in merriment about something while she fried up a batch of to-die-for chicken. Evelyn always thought of her that way—talking, laughing, in her favorite spot in front of the stove. A sob caught in the back of her throat. The tears she struggled to contain rolled over her bottom lashes. “She died at the hospital tonight. The doctors wouldn’t let me see her. I didn’t get to say good-bye.”

  “Ah, hell.” His hand flexed on her nape. Turning his head, he pressed his cheek against hers. “I’m so sorry, Evie.”

  “It’s a nightmare, Venom . . . a nightmare.” Another sob escaped her. Not knowing what to do, Evelyn fisted her hands in his shirt and hung on hard. Her chest heaved on hiccups. Tears continued to fall, cascading into an avalanche of emotional ruin. “I can’t make it stop. My situation keeps going from bad to worse.”

  “Not anymore.” he said. “I’m here now. It’s going to be okay, mazleiha. Don’t worry about anything—Markov, the money . . . nothing at all. We’ll figure it out.”

  Nice thought. Beautiful dream. An even softer place to land.

  Too bad it was too good to be true.

  Evelyn knew it. The world had taught her well, and history liked to repeat itself. So no. She couldn’t allow Venom to solve her problems. Dependence brought nothing but trouble. Reliance could be a shackle in the same way love could be a curse. Her father’s struggle to save her mother underscored that awful fact. Which meant she must find a way out on her own. Do it while standing on her own two feet, or not at all.

  Here today. Gone tomorrow.

  As amazing as he seemed, Venom equated to a bad idea. He was hit and run. Nothing but collateral damage, a Dragonkind guy caught up in the middle of her mess. Sure, she might like the look of him. He might want the hell out of her. But the attraction wouldn’t last long. The flame that burned the brightest always went out the fastest. The light never lasted. Darkness would return. Well-laid intentions rarely went to plan, and present circumstances kept pointing out the chasm that sat between her and Venom.

  Two different species. Two worlds apart.

  His interest in her would fade. Hers in him would fizzle out too.

  Natural law. Unbreakable order. The way of the world.

  And yet, as he held her, she wanted to believe. Pretend she meant something to him—that she was special somehow and that things would get better. Foolish to hope. The height of stupidity to wish. Fruitless faith leading her astray. Knowing it, however, didn’t make her release him. She held on tighter instead, drawing out the embrace in the hopes of finding solace. If only for a little while. One night or a thousand. It didn’t matter, just as long as he didn’t let her go.

  As quiet drifted through the living room, Venom released a pent-up breath. Thank God for huge favors and a dash of foresight. For an empty house and the silence that went with it as well. Black Diamond never approached quiet. It was loud and lived-in. Comfortable and full of family. But as he held Evelyn close, tucking her against him, he didn’t miss his brothers-in-arms in the least. The loud bunch could go to hell and tweak his tail another day. He could stand silent with his female forever. No need to talk. No reason to move. Sure in knowledge he’d met his match. Finally. At last. She was here, 100 percent real.

  No longer a figment of his imagination.

  His mouth curved. Call it perfect, then call it a day. She fit in his arms as though she’d been made for him. Sheer perfection. A dream come true as she snuggled in, allowed him to hold her, accepting the comfort he offered . . . ripping him apart with her tears. Trying to be strong, she held on hard, hands fisted in his T-shirt, head tucked beneath his chin, no longer crying, yet still breaking his heart with each hitching breath she took. Mouth brushing her hair, he kissed the top of her head, waiting her out as she trembled in his arms, struggling to recover. From grief and loss. From the turmoil of losing someone she loved. Which meant . . .

  Nothing was perfect.

  Not her present circumstances. Not the strength of his arms around her. Nor his need to soothe her. He couldn’t will her to calmness via hug alone.

  The thought made h
is chest go tight.

  It wasn’t fair. He’d wanted it to be perfect. Had dreamed of getting her alone—of having the chance to talk and laugh and . . . make love to her. Mutual satisfaction, however, was nothing but a distant hope now. She needed a friend, not a lover. Comfort instead of passion. Someone to help mend her heart and make her laugh. Someone who looked exactly like him. But not yet.

  She wasn’t ready to face him yet.

  He could tell by the way she clung to him. He blew out a regret-filled breath. Despite the pleasure of having her in his arms, her anguish tore him apart, fracturing him in ways he hadn’t thought possible. Now he bled for her, aching so hard her loss became his. As she hiccuped, he took it all, drawing the agony out of her, absorbing it himself, willing to take every ounce of pain to lessen hers. It was only fair. He dealt with loss all the time. Knew death well and understood it even better. And right now, he’d do anything to help. To somehow—some way—ease her burden and make it better.

  “You are making it better,” she whispered, shifting in his embrace. Her soft mouth brushed his throat. “I don’t know how, but you are.”

  Her voice drew him tight. His body did the rest, taking the compliment to heart. Arousal hit him full force, sending the wrong signals. He hardened behind his button fly. Venom clenched his teeth. Goddamn it. He’d been doing so well—controlling his reaction, denying his urges, refusing to think about the softness of her skin, the lush curve of her behind, the gorgeous—

  “Hell,” he muttered, trying to get himself back on track.

  The safe side of sanity sounded good right now. Too bad the prick behind his button fly refused to agree. The no-more-tears effect was getting to him, making him imagine things he shouldn’t. He bit down on a curse. Rock hard and willing, 100 percent ready to please her. A bad state to be in with his female in his arms. But even as he told himself to behave, naughty images sped into his head. Of Evelyn naked above him, thighs spread, nipples furled, body rolling as she rode him. Without mercy . . . or end.

  His mouth went dry.

  Trying to distract himself, he stared at a picture hanging on the wall opposite him. A bistro scene. Midnight in Paris, maybe. Cobblestone avenue next to a street-side patio. Street lamps aglow, two glasses of red wine, one table. A pretty sturdy-looking piece, inviting a male to sit his female on the edge, flip up her skirt and—

  Venom blinked. Shit. Bad brain. Wrong thought. Again.

  He really needed to get a handle on his obsession and stop fantasizing about being buried deep inside her. About what she would sound like too. He swallowed, working moisture back into his mouth. Would she be loud—moan his name, beg for release, scream when she came? Or was she the silent type, demanding but quiet in pleasure. God, he’d give anything to find out. Now. This minute, but well . . . lord save him from lusty thoughts. Sex wasn’t on the menu and might not be for a while.

  Inhaling deep, Venom filled his lungs to capacity. He held it a moment, let the pressure build, then released the air in a rush. Breathe in. Exhale out. Repeat. The exercise helped to focus him. Control settled in, calming his body, downgrading the tension, moving his brain in a different direction. Rushing Evelyn wasn’t wise. Patience would get him further. He wanted her to trust him. Needed her to feel safe despite his nature and what she’d seen. Most females took time to acclimatize and accept new situations. The one his female faced was bigger than most.

  Good-bye, human world. Hello, Dragonkind.

  Evelyn might not know it yet, but she wouldn’t be returning home. It wasn’t safe for her anymore. Not with Ivar in the mix. A master scientist, the bastard was hunting HE females. Something to do with a breeding problem and a nasty serum. Which put Evelyn in the bull’s-eye, smack-dab in the rogue leader’s line of sight. The asshole would learn her name, find out where she lived and—

  Venom growled. No way in hell. He refused to leave Evelyn vulnerable. Would never allow her to be taken. She belonged to him now. Was part of his pack. His to nurture. His to protect. His to please the moment she let him.

  Nothing else would ensure his success. Or help her accept his claiming.

  But it was hard to be patient. He wanted her so badly. Hadn’t dared hope he would ever find someone like her—his equal, a female able to flourish in his presence and thrive under his touch. Awe tightened his throat. The need to treat her right slowed the sweep of his hands along her back. He shouldn’t be touching her right now. She needed time and space—for him to back off while she figured out what she wanted. A heart-wrenching thing to do. An even more difficult action to implement, but . . .

  He needed to step away. Right now. Otherwise, he’d screw up. Make her uncomfortable. Do something stupid—like dip his head and claim her mouth while he raised her skirt.

  Easing his hips away, he cleared his throat. “Evie?”

  “Can you feel that?”

  Oh, man, could he ever. Somehow, though, Venom didn’t think she meant the hard bulge behind his fly. “What?”

  “It’s like a hum inside my head.” Sliding her hands up his back, she stroked the tops of his shoulders. Venom tensed. She lifted her cheek from his chest. Dark-brown eyes met his. Need thumped on him. He slammed the door, keeping lust locked on the other side as he searched her face. Lashes spiked by tears, a single drop rolled down her cheek. His chest tightened at the sight. Raising his hand, he wiped the moisture away. “Strange, but I can feel you.”

  “Not so strange,” he murmured, knowing he played with fire.

  He’d already decided to back away and give her room. Treat himself to some too. But instead of embracing smart, he plunged headlong into stupid and caressed her again, marveled at the softness of her skin, loving the contrast—her dark to his light—as the buzz filled his own veins. No, not odd at all. Startling, maybe. Incredible, for sure. Not the least bit strange. Her ability to feel him stemmed from energy-fuse: powerful, unbreakable, the Meridian’s gift to Dragonkind. And yet, the strength of the connection surprised him anyway. He hadn’t expected it to happen so fast. Or for Evelyn to accept his dragon half so easily.

  Unable to resist, he dipped his head. She tipped her chin up. His mouth touched down, brushing the corner of hers. “We’re fated, you and I.”

  “I’m not sure I believe in fate.”

  “Consider me your wake-up call—the universe’s way of telling you different.”

  “That I’m wrong, you mean?”

  “You said it, not me.”

  She laughed. “God, you’re funny. I really like that about you.”

  “A compliment,” he said, glancing behind him. The couch sat six feet away, the perfect place for a midnight chat. Lacing his fingers with hers, he tugged on her hand and retreated a step. She resisted, then gave in to the gentle pull. Skirting the coffee table, he walked backward. The soft thud of his boots echoed, rising toward the high ceiling as she followed him across the living room. “I’m moving up in the world.”

  “Maybe.” She shrugged. His leather jacket fell off one of her shoulders, exposing more soft skin and her dress. Smudged by soot near the hem, pale silk shimmered in the low light, hugging her curves, showing off her shape, making his mouth water. “Or maybe you just caught me at a weak moment.”

  His legs hit the front of the couch.

  Holding her gaze, he sat down. The dustcover sighed beneath his Levi’s. Thick cushion conformed to his body, inviting him to settle in and stay a while. Not a bad idea considering his companion tonight. Evelyn. God, she was beautiful. All lithe curves, dark skin, and sassy attitude. So touchable. Beyond gorgeous. Made for loving. His for the taking—if only she asked. He swallowed a groan, let go of her hand, and patted the cushion next to him. Evelyn took the hint, accepted his invitation and—

  Hiked up her skirt, revealing a gorgeous length of leg.

  Venom sucked in a quick breath. Her knee hit the cushion next to his knee, then s
lid along the outside of his leg. Surprise blindsided him, locking him down, holding him immobile, making his brain short-circuit. His mind went blank. Pressing her hands to his chest, she pushed, asking him to lean back, then threw the other leg over. His back touched the backrest. She set her exquisite ass in his lap and, straddling his hips, settled in, her core pressed to his erection.

  Her heat scorched him through denim.

  Venom bit down on a curse.

  Shifting her weight, she squirmed, adjusting their fit. “Hi.”

  “Hey,” he said, trying to sound calm. Put together. Like a male who’d had his fair share of females. Not one about to lose his mind.

  “So,” she said. “I was thinking.”

  “About what?” Sex . . . please let it be hard-core, body-rocking sex.

  “You promised me something earlier.”

  “Did I?” he asked, forcing his brain to turn over. Synapses fired, speeding mental acuity along, giving him hope then—ah, hell—sputtered and died. Eagle eyes on him, Evelyn rocked her hips. Ecstasy burned through his veins. The traitor behind his button fly twitched in warning. Gritting his teeth, Venom swallowed hard, losing more brain cells as blood rushed south, leaving him empty-headed. He drew a desperate breath. “You’re teasing, Evie.”

  “You would know.” Her fingertips played across his collarbone. With a sexy swirl, she sent one dancing beneath his shirt collar. Her skin caressed his. Desire curled, sank deep, rushing heat through his veins, making his muscles clench. “You’re the biggest tease of all.”

  His eyes narrowed. “It’s not teasing when you plan to follow through.”

  She raised a brow. “And are you going to—follow through?”

  Head resting against the seat back, he stared up at her. One second ticked into the next. When she didn’t shy away, he slid his hands up the outside of her thighs. Up. Up. Smooth skin whispered beneath his calloused palms. And then up some more . . . until her hem brushed his fingertips. She didn’t flinch. Bold as ever, she met his gaze with a challenge in her own.