The zipper slipped undone and her jeans sagged around her hips.
“Take them off,” he breathed and she barely recognized his voice. It was thick with desire and strong with the accent she knew was his, but was normally suppressed and controlled better. “Your panties, too. Everything. I want you naked.”
Excitement shuddered through her. She bent to do as he had demanded, her hands shaking, and stripped herself of her garments. Her panties were soaked through. She put her new boots to one side. Barely had she dropped the last item to the carpet when Damian’s hands curled around her arms, turned her and pushed her so her back was up against the door he had so recently closed and jammed shut. She could feel the cool steel frame of the visitor’s chair against her thigh.
“Undo my pants,” he commanded, his voice hoarse with lust. His thumbs moved against the sides of her breasts as he held her against the door. She remembered that even though the light was low in here, he would be able to see far more detail than she could. She reached for the strained buttons holding his trousers closed and struggled to push them undone. They popped open. Next, the zipper. She merely had to lift the tab and start the zipper sliding down and the pressure on the metal teeth did the rest. The zipper almost unraveled by itself.
Riley caught her breath. No underwear. No belt. As Damian’s trousers opened she saw his erect cock beating against his hip. It was thick and hard, with a flaring head. Just the sight of it made her moan and lick her lips. She looked up at his face.
He was watching her, his black eyes narrowed and sleepy. “You’re a gourmand of a different sort, aren’t you?” he murmured. “Perhaps the rumors were true after all. That would be…interesting, if it were so.”
A question barely began to form in Riley’s mind before Damian pressed himself against her, stealing her breath and her thoughts in one hard kiss. His cock pushed against her stomach and she could feel it beating with the tattoo of his pulse, as his hands gripped her thighs, lifting and separating them, opening her up to him.
The tip of his thick, blunt cock nuzzled her sopping pussy and the muscles around the entrance gripped him convulsively, trying to draw him in. Riley clawed at Damian’s shoulders, her nails digging into the coat. “Harder. Deeper.” Her voice was husky. She desperately wanted him to thrust into her with every bit of strength he possessed…except that in the back of her mind she knew he could possibly crack steel girders with one hand if he chose to. “Please,” she begged hoarsely. “Fuck me.”
He was studying her, watching her writhe against him, trying to take him deeper into her. Almost clinically, he gripped her legs and pushed into her with one long, smooth stroke, burying himself to the root. “Like that?” he asked softly.
Riley let her head fall back as he filled her. She curled her legs around his hips and her arms around his neck. “Mmmm… Good,” she told him. She moved her hips. “More.”
Damian’s smile was wicked and lust-filled and she glimpsed, just for a moment, over two thousand years’ worth of sexual mischief in his eyes. “Of course,” he said simply. “But there is little more delightful than this moment right here,” and he withdrew his cock a little and pushed it back into her.
Riley felt her pussy walls quiver and ripple around him and in response, his cock seemed to pulse. She sucked in a breath. “Oh!”
“Mmm…” he agreed and pushed into her again.
This time even her clitoris beat in response to his impalement. Riley felt her hips jerk of their own volition as a shocking wave of pleasure jolted through her, centered upon her clit and her pussy. She gasped, but Damian did not slow down his assault upon her, or spare her a moment to recover. The delightful assaults rolled over her one after another, building up inside her a tidal wave of intolerable pleasure. She clawed at Damian, feeling the monstrous great climax building in her and frightened by it.
“Come for me, Riley,” he breathed.
She shook her head.
“Sink into it,” he breathed next to her ear as his cock slammed into her. “Let yourself go.”
She couldn’t. Not something this large, this awesome. It would overwhelm her. Consume her. She would lose control. Riley panted, staying on top of it, beating the excitement back.
Right next to their heads, on the other side of the door, a sharp knock sounded.
Damian covered her mouth with his hand. He thrust into her. Once more. Twice. She felt his seed spill into her in hard spurts, his fingers digging into her thigh.
The knock came again. “Anyone there?” Security. From the tone of the question it sounded like they were doing rounds and checking every door as per standard procedure.
Damian’s hand fell from her thigh, down to the doorknob and curled around it, over the top of the chair thrust under it. She saw the knuckles tense. Only the pressure of his hips against her was holding her up against the door now.
On the other side of the door, the doorknob was rattled – they had tested to see that it was still locked. After a few seconds, there was a soft patter of steps heading away from the door. The guard had moved on, satisfied.
Riley dropped her head onto Damian’s shoulder, weak with relief and trembling as adrenaline pumped through her body. He lowered her to the floor and kissed her, his hand tangling in her hair. “Get dressed,” he murmured, fastening his trousers. “I’ll check for the guard. We can slip out via the fire escape.”
Of course, they couldn’t go back out into the gallery where the guard might see them emerge from the corridor he had just checked and found empty.
He slipped off his coat and drew his singlet over his head. “Wear this. I’ll have to replace your shirt for you.” He put his coat on again and zipped it up so his bare chest was hidden.
Riley reached for her discarded clothing with a shaky hand as Damian lifted the chair away from the door, peered out carefully and slipped out.
When he returned, she was fully dressed. Damian’s singlet was much too large for her, but by knotting the arms together at the back, she could make it sit high enough that her breasts were covered decently.
Damian picked up the bags once more, and led her silently from the room, turning right instead of left when they stepped out. They moved down the corridor to the fire escape door.
“Watch for observers,” Damian told her, putting down the bags.
Riley turned to look over her shoulder, back toward the gallery. The small slice she could see of the white, light room was empty of people. She heard Damian moving, a small grunt of effort. Then, “Quickly.”
She turned back to him. He had the fire escape door open and brilliant late afternoon sunlight was pouring in. She blinked. High up by the top of the door, bare gleaming wires hung loose over the frame. That was what he had been doing while she had been watching out—severing the alarm wired to the fire escape door so their opening the door didn’t set off the alarm.
Riley picked up the bags and stepped out onto the metal landing. Damian followed and shut the door behind him. Quickly, they climbed down the ladder to the ground and hurried along the alleyway onto the street, where Damian relaxed once more and looked at his watch. “Time to find a perch to observe the skylights. Nicholas should be here for this, too.” He scanned the skyline around them as he spoke.
Riley stared at him, as she realized the terse orders and his imperious air were not going away now they had reached safety. A chill touched her middle.
“Damian?”
He glanced at her. “You need food first?” he asked. “It is getting late.”
“I’m fine for now,” she assured him. “Is something wrong, Damian?”
His eyes pinned her to the pavement in a searing glance utterly without concession. “I think that is a question I should be asking you, but now is not the time for it.” He hesitated. “I’m not even sure there is a time.” He looked away, as if he were still searching the skyline.
Riley could feel her breath drop out of the bottom of her lungs, exactly like someone had opened
a trapdoor and let out all the air without warning her. Suddenly, she had no oxygen and her chest wouldn’t work properly.
For sixty queasy seconds she fought to breathe, as her mind raced and her heart labored. She knew exactly what Damian was talking about. Even though he spoke in euphemisms, even though he was being deliberately obscure, she knew. She hadn’t been able to give up control. She didn’t trust him enough to let go, even in his arms, even though he was possibly one of the most powerful creatures walking this planet.
Riley was flawed, weak, useless. Damian knew it now. He suspected it was a weakness she may never be able to overcome and already wondered if he wanted to try.
She watched him scout the terrain. More than ever, she wished Damian would try. She wanted him like no other man she had ever wanted in her life.
Except Nicholas Sherwood.
Tears pricked her eyes at the cruel dilemma.
Yes, she was indeed flawed.
Chapter Five
The roof of the building Damian finally chose was higher than the gallery building by two floors, which gave them an elevated viewpoint. The building had a supermarket and gym on the first floor, a dance studio on the second and apartments on the remainder. The apartments made it easy to gain access to the roof. Damian showed Riley how simple it was to dazzle one’s way into gaining access into buildings and public areas of almost any building in New York with a bit of charm and a lot of very sincere lying.
Once they were on the roof, Damian selected the best vantage point, then called Nicholas on his cell phone. “And bring food,” he said curtly, before dropping the phone back inside his jacket. He glanced at Riley. “By the time he gets here, it will have been four hours since you last ate. You’ve worked your body hard today. I won’t have you pass out on me from low blood sugar.” He turned back to watching the roof of the gallery below.
Riley was sitting on an air-conditioning vent. Now she pulled her knees to her chest, and wrapped her arms around her legs. “You’re pissed at me.”
“No.” He spoke with his back to her.
“You’re angry about something.”
“You’re trying to give me human emotions. My reactions to day-to-day petty concerns are not the same as yours any more. Do not make the mistake of trying to think of me as a man. I’m not.” His face was in profile to her and he looked for all the world like he was disinterested.
“Bullshit, Damian. You think I don’t know how fragile the male ego is? This happens to be something I do know about.” She put her feet down and stood up, wanting the authority the height would give her. “It bothered the crap out of you I wouldn’t let go back there, and now you’re pouting.”
Damian turned to face her, a startled expression on his face.
But Riley wasn’t finished yet. “I don’t give a shit how old you are, and you can shove that ‘being above petty concerns’ lie over the ledge you’re leaning against because I don’t believe it for a second—not for this instance, anyway. You’re hiding behind it because you just don’t want to talk about it. Again.”
“Jesus,” he breathed. “You and Tally. Straight for the gut. No quarter given.”
She flinched at the mention of her mother’s name. “Did you ever fuck her?” she demanded.
He drew in a breath, a sharp one. “No,” he said quickly. “I was with Nicholas then. Once she met Carson, there was room for no one else. She saw no one else. They were obsessed about each other.” He dropped his head, staring at his hands where they lay palm up on the concrete edging of the balcony. “They were only together for six years before Carson was killed by Lirgon, but those six years were lived so intensely…” He shook his head. “It was almost as if they knew they would not have long together and they squeezed as much as they could into the time they had. There was no room for anyone else, really. Just the small handful of friends they trusted with their lives and that was all.”
“The opposite of what you do, in fact,” Riley said dryly.
Damian grimaced. “I suppose…yes. Our race does become complacent about emotions. Time gives you that luxury.”
“That’s what you’re doing now,” Riley told him. “You’re avoiding me.”
He turned to face her, leaning back against the edge, spreading his arms along either side. He smiled. “Relentless, aren’t you?”
“When it’s important,” she agreed.
“Is it important, Riley?” His tone was cool.
Her heart jumped. “Don’t try to get around me that way.” She stood up. “If this was simply just sex, just passing time, then you wouldn’t be so put out about what happened back there.” She came toward him. “I’m not centuries old like you, Damian. But I’m not an idiot, either. Don’t treat me like one.”
His gaze never wavered. “I apologize,” he said evenly. “Such a simple tactic would work with a great many others. I’ve grown used to manipulating humans in such ways.”
“And you still haven’t answered my original question.” She stopped barely a foot away from him and looked him directly in the eye.
“Do you know,” he said softly, his gaze directly locked with hers, “that staring a vampire directly in the eye is the equivalent of challenging them? Most vampires find their feeding impulses kick in and have to subvert those impulses to other drives, if they wish to avoid killing the human who foolishly locks gazes with the vampire.”
“Other drives?” Riley echoed, keeping her eyes square upon Damian’s black pupils. His lashes were black, as were the thick brows.
“Sexual, often,” Damian murmured, his voice thickening perceptively. “But if the need to feed can’t be slaked via sex, then physical expenditure. Running. Fighting. Dismantling buildings.” His hands were gripping the edges of the concrete, and the knuckles were white.
Her heart squeezed in her chest and she was mortally aware of the blood pumping through it.
Damian’s eyes were unblinking. “Look away, Riley, if you do not want me to force you to yield to me right now.”
“Answer my question first,” she breathed, fighting to hide just how badly she was trembling.
He hissed out his breath. “Ask your question!”
“I hurt you by not fully trusting you enough to give up control and let go, didn’t I?”
Damian’s lips parted as his fangs partially lowered. His eyes closed. The sight terrified Riley but she remained totally silent, repressing every impulse to show any sign of fear, including the almost overwhelming need to reach for the knife hanging heavy and reassuring in her inside jacket pocket. She knew it would trigger Damian into action she couldn’t defend herself against. She didn’t have the skill yet and perhaps never would. He was too old, too experienced and far too strong—and she had pushed him, perhaps too far.
“That is it,” he whispered. His chest lifted as he drew a very deep breath and let it out, like a man smelling the air. Then, astonishingly, he smiled. “Yes,” he said firmly. “You wounded me when you would not give up control.” His smile grew wider. “My…what did you call it? My fragile male ego? It appears that even after all this time it is still remarkably delicate.” And he laughed.
Riley found her mouth lifting in a smile, even though she was puzzled. Damian’s laugh was infectious and his transformation from scary vampire to happy man was stunning and breath-robbing.
He curled his hand around the back of her neck. “I laugh, Riley, because it’s so ironic to find this vestige of humanity still lingers in me, and it’s such a pathetic one. Vanity, indeed. Pride. Ego. They’re not admirable qualities. Why, if human qualities were to linger, could they not be the better ones like courage, loyalty and…and…”
“Love?” Riley suggested softly.
Damian’s face shadowed. “I never lost that,” he said softly. “Love never goes away. It changes. It can become perverted, if you let it and some do. Some allow it to become the vilest emotion imaginable, as it twists between the creatures they become and the partners they associate with. But lov
e never goes away completely.” His thumb stroked her jaw. “Is that one of your questions, Riley? What lies between us? Where this all leads?”
She jumped. She couldn’t help it. The question lay in her heart and mind, but she never would have asked it. “How can you possibly answer such a question now? It would be unfair to demand an answer.”
Damian’s mouth lifted at the corners. “To you, it may seem that way.” His hand at the back of her neck drew her closer as his other arm wrapped around her back. “I can see farther than you.” He pressed her against his chest, where she had once slept. “Relax,” he told her. “Nicholas will be here soon with food. Meantime, it’s nearly sunset. We must watch the skylights.”
Her face turned inward and she found her lips were a mere inch from his neck. This time, she gave into the same impulse she’d had when travelling to New York just that morning, she kissed his neck and slid her tongue over the flesh, tasting it.
Damian sighed. “Sweet.”
“You have no idea how badly I wanted to do that this morning, in the car.”
“I knew.”
She thumped his shoulder with the heel of her hand. “It’s just not fair, you being able to smell everything about me. It’s like being able to read my mind. You get advanced information about me and I get left behind about what’s going on with you two.”
His long finger lifted her chin so she was forced to look him in the eyes. “You do very well with just your own senses, Riley Carson Connors. You just skewered me very neatly. I’m still bleeding, thank you very much.” His lips touched hers in a soft kiss meant only to reassure. The kiss lingered, lengthened, but still didn’t do more than share warmth and empathy. She knew Damian was carefully not arousing her—the gargoyles were about to rise. They could not afford to be distracted, even though she sensed that he longed to have her to submit to him, to make her let go completely and fully in the most comprehensive way possible, as soon as possible.
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