“Drop us back in the town, Sam. I need to get Yildiz home.”
Sam nodded. “You here to cover the protest, Yildiz?”
“I came to see the stones, never expected all this.”
“It’s the most excitement we’ve had since the floods when I was a kid,” he said. “Mind you, I’m glad you suggested taking the other road. That was a brilliant suggestion.” He paused as he changed gear and pulled out into the main road, “Not from around here are you?”
“No, I live in Istanbul.”
That pretty much silenced him the last half mile or so.
“Thanks for the ride,” she said as Sam pulled up in front of the Four in Hand.
“You’re welcome.” He gave a little smirk. “Sorry I interrupted your…er…conversation.” So was she, but it had been instructive.
“How about we pick up the conversation where we left off?” Nur asked Mike as Sam drove away.
Chapter Six
Mike’s hand snaked round Nur’s waist, and he dropped a kiss on her head. “Sounds smashing!”
She wasn’t about to argue.
Cutting in through the bar, and up the stairs, she all but dragged Mike up to her room. Not that he needed much persuading.
She was really being a fool. Involvement with the locals was a very, very, bad idea, but for this once she’d let her heart rule her head. She wanted Mike, for more than the sweet sustenance in his veins. She wanted to feel his hands on her breasts again, and inhale the male sweetness of him. And he was anything but reluctant.
But once the door closed behind her, a strange shyness came over her. Ridiculous! She’d once seduced the sultan’s heir, a teacher of physics should present no problem, but perhaps it was the depth of emotion in Mike’s blue eyes, or the little dimple low on his left cheek as his mouth curled in a wonderful smile of anticipation, but her reluctance evaporated as he reached out his hands and grasped hers.
“Yildiz,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and gravelly. “We should have started here, undisturbed, in the first place.”
If they had, who knew what would have broken out up at the stones? But time to worry about that later, for now, she let him draw her close.
He watched, as if mesmerized, as she moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, before drawing his hand to her mouth and kissing his knuckles. “You have strong hands,” she said. “I love your touch.”
He needed no more encouragement, pulling her smack against him, as his mouth came down, hard, hot, and urgent, pressing her lips open with his tongue, as he all but devoured her. She was with him every heated breath of the way, meeting his thrusts and kisses, and swallowing his gasps and need, as her hands worked down his chest, lingering over his waist as her thumbs eased lower.
He was even harder than before—if possible, and he groaned under the gentle pressure of her hands.
“Yildiz,” he muttered. “If you don’t mean this, for God’s sake let’s stop now!”
“I’ve no intention of stopping!” And just in case words weren’t clear enough, she pushed his jacket off his shoulders, and had his sweater halfway over his head, in less time than it took him to mutter her name. She had his shirt open even faster, and then made herself slow down. She’d scare the passion out of him if she didn’t watch it.
What was happening? She never lost control, but was coming close tonight—had to be she needed feeding—and she would. Soon. But meanwhile, his hands were under her sweater, yanking it over her head, and taking with it the bra she’d never bothered to refasten.
They were both naked to the waist, and staring at each other like teenagers seeing their first bare flesh. If ever she’d witnessed the beauty of Allah’s creation, it was now. Mike was lovely, his broad chest, covered with a fine sprinkle of golden hair, and his nipples the color of a ripe pomegranate.
She stepped close, resting her hand on his mortal flesh and kissed his left nipple, suckling until it stood proud and pert under her tongue. She looked up at him. “Çok güzel,” she whispered. “You are so very beautiful.” Her fingers lingered, dusting the soft hairs and savoring his warm flesh.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” Mike said cupping both her breasts, and brushing her nipples with his thumbs until she let out a little moan.
His mouth covered hers, swallowing her cries of need, as his thumbs continued their loving tease.
Heaven preserve her! She was wet between her legs. Was it need? Desire? Or outright randiness? She neither knew nor cared. She pulled back from his embrace, dropped a kiss on his cheek, and said, “I think we’re both overdressed.”
His chuckle was deep, rich and sexy, and sent a warm thrill right down to her groin. “Couldn’t agree more!” He reached out for the snap at the waist of her jeans, but she beat him to it, pulling them down, taking her panties with them, and removing the holster and knife faster than his eyes could see. Kicking off her shoes, she pulled her socks off as he watched. The look in his eyes left her in no doubt that he wanted her as much as she needed him.
Mutual desire was the most satisfying!
“Are you going to ogle me all night, or should I really get your attention?” she asked, and reached for his belt buckle.
The man had the nerve to stand there and grin. “Better get my attention!”
He asked! She couldn’t hold back her throaty chuckle as she flicked open his buckle and had his belt out of the loops in less time than it took for him to take a breath. She was being indiscreet, utterly reckless, and right now, didn’t give a flat flip. SIA be blowed, Paul be damned, and the job could go over the water. She wanted Mike Proudfoot, in every way possible to woman or vampire, and she wanted him right now.
Not that he was complaining in the least.
They fell on the bed in a tangle of limbs, and half-shed clothing. She had his jeans down his ankles, and pulled his underwear with them, pausing only to admire his rather glorious cock. She was tempted to sit there and ogle, just for the sheer delight of feasting her eyes.
They were naked now, and suddenly they both paused. Eyes full of each other and his chest rising and falling with each eager breath. Mike reached out his hand, and gently stroked her left breast, smoothing his warm fingertips over her full curves, sending wild thrills rushing straight between her legs. When he leaned forward and his lips closed over her nipple, she let out a long sigh of need, longing and sheer delight.
Heaven help her! The man had incredible lips and a wondrous tongue. Never had she been this aroused by a kiss and a caress. She was close to pressing him into the mattress, leaping on top and impaling herself on his erection. But she wanted this to last all night—or as long as she could. She tunneled her fingers though his gorgeous copper-colored hair, and kissed the top of his head, as she inhaled his male scent. As he pulled his lips away and looked up, she covered his mouth with hers. They kissed until it seemed they were breathing in unison. They broke the kiss, just a moment, to look at each other.
“Yildiz!” Mike whispered.
She smiled as she reached up and traced his lips with the pad of her finger. “I’m here,” she replied, and pressed him, on his back, to the mattress.
She explored every centimeter of him, stroking, caressing, and kissing, entranced by his warm skin and the promise of sweet blood coursing through his veins.
He was far from passive. He matched her, kiss for kiss, and touch for touch. Propped on his side, he ran his hands over her breasts and belly. “You have no bush,” he said, as his fingers, stroked the top of her crack.
“Of course not!” She chuckled. ‘I’ve always wondered why western women keep their pubic hair.”
“Never thought about it myself,” he replied, “but I think you are absolutely beautiful.” As if to prove his point, his fingers gently parted her vulva. “Like a rose in summer,” he whispered, his breath warm on her aroused flesh. “Magnificent! Beautifully incredible!” And his mouth came down.
She almost levitated! His touch was like wild breezes across
tall grass, and stirred a heat deep inside her that had her burning like furnace coals, as he made love to her with his lips and tongue.
Stupendous was not the word! Never, in all her many years, had she known a touch like this! Not once, in the many beds she’d shared, had she felt this passion, this joy, the outright need and longing. She angled her hips to bring his mouth even closer, and it was as if he’d swallowed her, nether lips, nub, and all, inflaming her need as he drew thrills from her body.
They were like two wild creatures: he driven to pleasure her, and she yearning for more, and more, as her passion rose in a wild spiral, and her little cries of delight echoed off the ceiling overhead.
She was sweating—something her body rarely did—with need, and heat and longing. Her mind awash in a whirl of sensation as her arousal spiraled upwards, until with a great shout of sheer joy, she climaxed, her body bucking off the bed, taking him with her, as they both collapsed in a sweaty, joyous tangle.
“Sweet heaven!” she murmured, as he looked up at her, his lips shiny from her arousal. “Mike Proudfoot, you are one fantastic lover!”
He blushed, sweetly pink as he smiled. “The pleasure was all mine, Yildiz.”
“We haven’t got to ‘all’ yet,” she said, gently pushing him back down. “My turn now!”
Starting at the inside of his ankle, she kissed up to his thigh and down the other side. Stroking his rampant cock with her fingers as her lips caressed his skin. She wanted him hot, aroused and half-crazed. So aroused he wouldn’t realize what happened until it was over. Up and down her lips went, pausing only to lick and kiss his balls. They were strong, and firm and hung beneath his beautiful cock, like a secret, hidden package, but mortal men had precious few secrets from her.
He was moaning now, holding her head and trying to guide her to his cock. She let him. Kissing the warm and rigid base and working her way to the head. It was smooth as the silk lining of a pair of kid gloves, but so hard and ready. Nur smiled to herself as she lapped his sweet nectar. Yes, ready. She breathed on him, swallowing him whole and easing her mouth up and down until his hips rocked, and he moaned with need. She eased her mouth off, encircling his cock with her fingers as she kissed his balls, the soft skin between his cock and his balls, and the sweet crease of his groin. Working his cock with her hand, to keep his arousal peaking, she set her lips against a smooth spot on the inside of his thigh. Sensing the blood in the artery underneath, she licked, until his moans became groans, and his head thrashed from side to side with need and frustration. As gently as she knew how, she bit into him as her fingers pumped his cock. His blood flowed, sweet, warm and fortifying and she sucked until her mind roiled with desire and satiation. He was close to coming, she felt the rising sperm at the base of his cock.
She eased off her mouth, licking twice to seal the flesh. Fast as only a moroii could move, she was on him, impaling herself on his erection, as she grasped his shoulders.
She rode him, pulling him with her, up, up to a wild and brilliant climax. She felt him come, deep inside her, sensed the release of need and longing, as he cried out, “Yildiz! Yildiz!” and sagged back on the bed.
She leaned over and kissed him on the mouth. “Dear, Mike,” she said, and dear he was. He’d restored her.
“That was bloody marvelous!” he muttered, gave her a sleepy kiss and minutes later was asleep on his back, lips parted, and golden lashes brushing his still-flushed cheeks.
It beat her why mortals always all but passed out after sex. Herself, she was energized. Okay, maybe the loss of blood was to blame. She felt his surging through her veins, renewing her, rejuvenating her. She stood up, stretched and felt ready to run halfway to Scotland and back. A trip to the stones would do instead.
Chapter Seven
She washed quickly, pulling on black jeans and black turtle neck. On second thoughts, she pulled the latter off, put on a tee shirt, and over that the Kevlar vest. No point in taking unnecessary risks. Paul had sent it—he must expect her to need it. The turtleneck showed a few odd ridges over the vest, but what the heck?
She paused, crossing back into the bedroom. What to do about Mike?
She delayed long enough to write a note. “Mike, you are magnificent. I had to go out for a few minutes. I will be back—promise.”
With luck he’d sleep until she got back, when she could destroy the note and creep back in bed beside him, but just in case, this covered her.
She stopped only to pull on her high-tops, and fasten Paul’s holster on her ankle and tuck in one of the knives. The spare one she slipped in her waistband.
Getting out was as easy as she expected. She raised the curtain and eased out onto the sill. Hanging on with one hand, she pulled the window down almost to the bottom, and scaled down the side of the building. She was over the back wall in a jiffy, and after moving carefully through the back alleys, found herself on the main road she’d entered the town by, and in the wrong direction. Never mind, a short jog took her to open country, from there it was an easy lope to circle the town and then head for the stones.
* * * * *
No wonder ancient people saw megaliths as magical or sacred. Nur stood fascinated for several minutes at the sight of moonlight on the stones. The grass around the fence was trampled from the melee earlier, and ridges of tire marks on the soft ground were clear to her heightened vision. But everyone had gone. Either fled or arrested, she imagined, and wondered what sort of legal action, if any, would be taken. If, as Paul supposed, the circle was now funded by terrorist money, the owners would surely want obscurity not publicity. Well, they’d got the latter by enclosing Hollrigg. Why? What earthly use would they have for a bunch of ancient rocks?
Walking over to the shelter of the trees, Nur watched, frowning to herself. Nothing broke the peace and stillness, other than the odd cry of a night bird, the scrunch of the frosted grass under her feet, and the strange feeling that something was going on. It was as if there was an energy under her feet. A bit far-fetched, but she’d learned long ago to listen to her instincts.
Keeping in the shadow of the trees, she walked around the perimeter, pausing at the edge of the woods and looking over the fields beyond. It was so peaceful, it was hard to imagine a few hours earlier it had been the scene of a protest broken up by a bunch of attack dogs.
Dogs! Where had they come from? They hadn’t dropped out of the sky! They had to be kept somewhere near. But where? Look as she might, there was nothing around but the stones, the fence, the woods, and yes, an owl as well as the night bird.
It was hard to imagine a pack of guard dogs was anywhere near, but they had to be. They’d appeared, as if from nowhere, a bit of the Hound of the Baskerville’s touch there—except she was at the wrong end of the country. Where were they kept? Since she was disinclined to believe they were conjured up for the occasion, they had to still be near.
But where?
She walked back around and realized she’d been looking at the stones and the countryside, and not at the fence. There was a high gate, and the ground around, some distance from where Todd and his buddies had held their ill-fated protest, was trampled. So they’d come from here. But where exactly? All that lay inside the fence was the stone circle and an expanse of rough grass.
And somewhere to hide three or four guard dogs.
If she made sense of this she deserved a raise, and six weeks somewhere sunny. But meanwhile, she needed a look inside that fence. Jogging out of the trees, she crossed the open field, and turned to face the stones. Sizing up distance and height of the fence, she ran, faster than any mortal, and nearing the fence, leapt, and cleared the top, landing in a crouch a few meters from the nearest stone.
So far so good. She was inside! Now, why were they so keen to keep everyone out? She ran her fingers over the closest stone, brushing off a little lichen, but apart from that-nothing. It was, as advertised, a chunk of rock—very old, yes, but nothing unexpected. Neither were any of the next five or six. Maybe she’d have
to eat her words and lift them one by one. No! These had not been moved since they were set here a few millennia ago, of that she was sure. No signs of disturbance or movement. They were still and silent, and not about to reveal any secrets.
She might as well give up and go back to Mike. He was a lot warmer than a December night in the open, but something stayed her.
There was power here! She felt it: ancient power in the ground under her feet. Yeah! Right! She was letting the atmosphere get to her. She should be looking for attack dogs and organized terrorists, not sensing ancient magic.
She continued round the circle, examining each stone. Nothing! But there had to be something. Why else fence it off and use guard dogs? Come to that where the hell were the dogs kept? She had just reached the gate, and yes, the grass was a little trodden down on this side of the fence. Thanking her maker for her vampiric vision, Nur followed the trail of flattened grass, to the back of a group of five grouped stones, inside the circle. There the trail ended against a tall, flat stone. Odd indeed. Odder still that this stone was new, and oddly angled against the other four, and all were joined by a bank of beaten earth.
On closer inspection, this new one was sheet metal, disguised as stone. It had to be some sort of door, leading down to a passage under the stones and disguised by the standing group.
How long had it been since the fence went up? Several weeks hadn’t someone said, and the site had been closed prior to the sale. Seemed Rudicorp employees had been very, very busy.
Okay what now? She could hardly call the law in. It was private property after all. Better to go back to the Four in Hand and contact Paul. Tell him ‘Yes, there was something odd going on’ and ‘what next?’
Winter Warriors Page 30