Into the Darkness

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Into the Darkness Page 9

by Delilah Devlin


  “Erika needed a break,” she said, not giving him so much as a glance.

  “So it had to be you?”

  No, it didn’t—they both knew that. “He’s my partner. I wanted to make sure he was safe.” What really irked was she’d been so intent on watching the couple make love, she hadn’t even heard Nicolas’s approach. Damn him for being there to read the desire on her face. She wondered how long he’d watched.

  “She’s got great instincts, our little Lolita. Did you see how she teased him? It won’t be long before he’s begging her to take him.”

  Chessa stiffened, fighting not to react to Nicolas’s digs.

  “And that mouth!” He groaned. “Rene’s very lucky she already has a taste for his cum.”

  His low masculine moan drew her nipples instantly erect. “Shut up, Nic!” Anger burning away her caution. “He doesn’t have much of a choice, does he?”

  He nestled closer, his warmth burning her from her shoulders to her toes. “Do you think he would fight his attraction if he were free?” he whispered. “That he might actually win—and choose you?”

  How did he do it? How did he cut her right to the core? Chessa trembled with rage.

  He tsked softly. “Bloodlust, especially the first taste, is a potent force. You should know.”

  Chessa’s hands fisted. She didn’t need the reminder. Watching the two inside the chamber had brought back her own bitter memories.

  Watching had also stirred her lust. Rene’s powerful upward, bed-shaking thrusts had soaked her panties. She had to get out of here. Had to find a meal and a fuck.

  Nicolas’s inhalation was soft, subtle, but she knew he caught a whiff of her arousal. “Let me feed you,” Nicolas said, his hand smoothing around her waist and rising to cup her breast.

  The flick of his thumb against her nipple, even through her cotton shirt, sparked a surge of lust that nearly buckled her knees.

  Not Nicolas!

  His other hand reached between her legs and cupped her through her jeans, massaging, grinding the ball of his palm into her pussy. “Just a quick fuck—and I’ll let you drain me afterward. Let me feed you.”

  Not a slick line, but then, she didn’t need much of an enticement to push her over the edge. Chessa sucked in air between clenched teeth, her body rigid with denial—but she widened her stance, giving him permission to continue. “You have such a way with words,” she said, trying to keep her voice light, not let him see how much she needed this. “No wonder the women fall all over you.”

  “I don’t need to charm—when I have this,” he said, grinding his cock against her.

  Shivering inside the circle of his arms, she closed her eyes and concentrated on the building sensations—not who was delivering them.

  His teeth closed around the lobe of her ear and he bit.

  She cried out, but burrowed closer to his body, her ass centering on his cock.

  His hands got busy with buttons and her zipper. Soon, he was sliding her jeans past her hips, down to her ankles, only pausing to tug off her boots before drawing off the pants entirely and tossing them away.

  Naked from the waist down, save for her panties and her gaping shirt, she felt at a distinct disadvantage. Her heart thudded loudly, waiting for his next move, which wasn’t like her at all. Usually the one in charge, she waited on his pleasure, which should have rankled. Instead, eagerness flooded her.

  When his fingers slid beneath the elastic band of her panties to delve between her lips, her pussy released a drenching wash of liquid that greeted his caress.

  “Lovely, Dieu!” His clothed cock bucked against her ass, his fingers pinched her nipple hard, and he drove long fingers up inside her, stroking deeply, swirling in the moisture melting from her inner walls.

  Chessa rolled her hips back and forward, over and over, the motion following the rhythm he set with his deftly stroking fingers. When her arousal began the climb toward release, she bit her lip and pressed the back of her head against his chest.

  Suddenly, his hands left her and he pushed her forward, bending her over the console where the monitors rested.

  One jerk and her panties tore away. She gripped the edge of the table and waited while the rustling of clothing behind her told her he stripped.

  She pressed her hot breasts on the cool wood and dragged gulps of air into her lungs, trying to regain control, trying to break his lustful spell, but she nearly sobbed when his fingers glided down the crease of her ass and sank inside her cunt. “Fuck me!” she gasped.

  One last rustle and Nicolas groaned behind her. His cock fell against her cool buttocks, hot and hard.

  She rose on her tiptoes, straining higher to encourage him to come inside her.

  He needed no temptation. His cock butted once against her slick folds, backed away and re-centered, then drove deep inside.

  Chessa’s mouth opened around a silent scream. Christ, how he filled her!

  She waited for him to start the rocking thrusts she craved, but he leaned over her back.

  “Does my size please you, Princess?”

  Trapped against the table with his cock crammed deep inside her, she rolled her eyes. “I hate it when you call me that,” she said, not liking the tremor in her voice.

  “An answer, please. I won’t move until you give it to me.”

  “You’ll do,” she gritted out. She should have known he’d never give her a straight fuck.

  A soft tsk lifted the hair lying across her shoulder. “I don’t like lies—or half truths. You have much to learn about me.”

  “I don’t need to know anything except whether that cock of yours can do the job.”

  “That was crude, Chessa. Would you have me believe you’re only using my body?”

  “Asshole, get on with it!”

  “I will. It will be my pleasure.” He straightened, his cock surging deeper as he moved. His hands smoothed down her hips to her thighs. With a jerk, he lifted her off her feet and shoved her further onto the table.

  Then he pulled out of her—slowly, inch by luscious inch—and Chessa’s bottom wriggled, sure that now he’d give her what she wanted.

  When he left her entirely, she raised up on her elbows to cast a furious glare behind her. “Quit with the games!”

  “I’m not playing.”

  He cupped the cheeks of her ass and dropped to his knees.

  “No!” she exclaimed, panic setting in. “I don’t need that, Nic. Please!”

  “You need to be pleasured—not just fucked.”

  “Don’t tell me what I need, bastard,” she shouted. “There are a dozen men in this compound who’d give me what I want and do a better job. You just happened to be here when I was horny.”

  “I know I’m your last choice. But one day you will beg me to love you, Chessa.”

  “I don’t want love.”

  “You’re a woman. Maybe one of ‘The Born,’ but at your core you’re as needy as any female. Now, shut up.”

  Only being quiet was the last thing Chessa could manage. His lips closed around her clitoris and suckled. Chessa arched off the table, screaming for the first time in her life.

  “I don’t know ’xactly how this works,” Rene said, his voice deepening with his urgency, “but I’ve only got so much blood. You’ll kill me if you take too much.”

  The scents stirring in the air around Natalie—his musk, her arousal—teased her appetites. Her stomach burbled. “I wish you hadn’t reminded me I’m hungry.”

  He blew out a frustrated breath. “At the rate you’re feedin’, there won’t be much left of me.”

  The pulse at his temple throbbed, and her heartbeat quickened to match the beat. “I don’t want to hurt you,” she said, even as her nipples drew into hardened nubs. Her teeth lengthened inside her mouth. “But I don’t think I can help myself.”

  “I think that’s the point of our bein’ here. Of me bein’ chained. I can’t fight you this way.”

  A creak sounded behind her, and she wh
irled in time to see the door opening.

  A blonde woman carried a tray covered with a white linen cloth. “I should tell you up front,” she said, her eyes and wide lips flashing amusement, “it won’t do you any good to try to go through the door behind me. There’s a guard in the hallway.”

  Natalie didn’t return her smile. Despite the fact she was buck naked—she was too damn turned on to care. She straightened. “Why are we being held here?”

  The woman’s gaze swept over her, lingering for a long moment on her face. “It’s for your own safety, Natalie.”

  Oddly, the woman’s perusal didn’t make her uncomfortable. She sensed no danger, no animosity or lurid interest coming from her. “What about his safety?” she said, lifting her chin toward Rene.

  “He isn’t nearly as important to us.” The woman shrugged. “He’s here to keep you company.” She nodded to the tray. “I brought you food. You’re going to need to keep up your strength. And there’s enough on the tray for him, as well.”

  “When will you let him go?”

  “Not for a while yet. You’ll have to see to his comfort in the meantime. He’s a stubborn one. They haven’t had to use the manacles in quite a long time. Chessa suggested them last night, and I can see why. Nice choice.” Her gaze swept him hungrily.

  Natalie felt herself bristling at the woman’s covetous stare. Not that she had any rights to him, but she didn’t like the way the woman stared at the part of him that had so recently been crammed inside her own body.

  “He needs a bath,” Natalie said, irritation making her words sharp.

  The woman’s eyebrows lifted. “Shall I help you?”

  “Natalie…” Rene’s voice rose in warning.

  Natalie shook her head. “I only meant bathing him without freeing him first will be awkward.”

  The woman gave her an amused smile. “Nice try.”

  Rene rattled his chains. “I wish the fuck you’d both stop talkin’ like I’m not here. Where the hell is Chessa? I want to talk to her now.”

  “She’s…occupied at the moment.”

  Her secretive smile had Natalie wondering what she meant.

  “She will see you later,” she said, giving him a last appreciative glance. “Be patient. We don’t mean you any harm, Lieutenant Broussard. This really is for your own good.”

  “Who are you?” Natalie asked.

  This time, the woman’s expression looked a little brittle. “There will be introductions, again, later. Enjoy yourselves. If there’s anything you need…”

  “A key?” Rene growled and rattled his chains one last time.

  A slim eyebrow rose in amusement. “Short of a key. You have only to knock on the door and someone will come.”

  Natalie tried again. “Why are we here?”

  The woman glanced back over her shoulder, her mouth pursing as though she wanted to say more. “Natalie, embrace the changes that are occurring inside you. Don’t question too closely…for now. When the time’s right—”

  “But I don’t understand what’s supposed to happen here.”

  With a hand on the doorknob, the woman’s features tightened, her eyes appeared to glitter. “Sure you do,” she said, her voice even, yet oddly lilting. “Follow your instincts.”

  Natalie instantly felt soothed, reassured.

  “Feed your hunger. Can’t you already feel your body growing stronger?”

  Natalie stood still, absorbing what the woman was saying and trying to read what she hadn’t.

  “Eat all the food on the tray and try to limit the amount of blood you take from Rene. You don’t want to kill him…yet.”

  CHAPTER 8

  You don’t want to kill him…yet.

  After the woman left, the words swirled around the room, like a noxious cloud.

  Natalie felt chilled by them, but only for a moment. She found it hard to hold onto the alarm that skittered down her spine, plucking at her, to heed their warning. Already the warning faded, replaced by her heightened sensitivity to the man lying behind her on the bed.

  Every rustle of the sheets as he shifted to ease an ache, the scents of sex and his sweat, even the faint sound of his heartbeat—something she just realized she could hear quite clearly.

  How interesting…

  Natalie was reluctant to look at Rene. Naked and restrained—he was a potent stimulant to her hypersensitive libido. She could feel his blistering glare. “I guess we wait after all,” she said quietly.

  The chains rattled—his way of making his frustration known.

  The sound made her smile.

  “You didn’t try very hard to get me out of here,” he growled.

  “What did you expect me to do? Tackle her to the ground? Then what?”

  “I’m being held against my will!” he shouted. “And what the hell did she mean by ‘don’t kill him…yet’? Fuck!”

  His anger reacted explosively with her desire. Already she could feel her teeth sliding down. He’d been brought here expressly for her. All his straining and thrashing against his bonds only increased her arousal. Fluid, slick and hot, trickled down to wet her thighs. She would have him.

  Without looking back, Natalie straightened her shoulders. “Rene, I’m afraid we haven’t any choices here.” She shut out any empathy she felt for his predicament. A stealthy, twisting thought rose in the back of her mind. He’d been willing to let Chessa take care of their “problem”—her. If he’d had the choice, he’d have washed his hands of her, walking away without a backward glance—more than willing to abandon her to her fate.

  Although she didn’t know precisely what her fate entailed, she felt the changes the blonde woman had mentioned happening inside her. Besides the physical ones, she knew she wasn’t thinking the same way she had twenty-four hours before. She wasn’t afraid anymore. She wasn’t hesitant or shy about her body, her needs, or her enthrallment over his body.

  He was here for her enjoyment, to feed her appetite, and completely under her control. But what did she want with him, really? The first blush of wild attraction had passed. That hot, all-consuming need to “know” him had been sated, but there must be so many more acts and sensual experiences to discover.

  Already her body warmed—the delicious, wet heat seeped from inside her. She wondered if he could be seduced without a bite…

  She took a deep breath to fortify herself and turned.

  Rene’s gaze had fixed on her like a fly on wet paint.

  Faltering inside, the aroma of roasted meat gave her an excuse to look away again and think. She picked up the tray from the table and walked toward the bed. “Are you hungry?”

  His face closed up tight, his lips thinning, the muscles of his jaws flexing. He turned his head away.

  His rejection stung—every time he did it, the wound felt fresh and raw. And it pissed her off.

  Until she realized, she was just a convenient target for his anger. He couldn’t take out his frustrations on the commandoes who had spirited them away, so he struck out at her—in the only way he’d allow himself.

  That empathetic realization faded, too. The next moment, she wondered why she stood with a tray in her hands when they both needed sustenance. Her glance raked him and her breath caught, inspired anew to explore every inch of him. How easily she was drawn back again and again to pure, animalistic responses.

  Brawny, defined musculature. Tanned, olive skin except for the pale stripe across his hips and groin. Crisp, curling dark hairs rose like a thin cloud across his chest, arrowing down his abdomen. Lord, his body was beautiful.

  Even his defiant profile pleased her. Rough edged with dark stubble along his jaws and chin, wholly masculine.

  “Get the fuck away from me.”

  This time she took no offense. As acutely tuned to his body as she was, she knew her own must have some appeal for him to feel threatened by her proximity.

  She pulled the cloth from the tray and smothered a laugh. Rare steak, cut in bite-sized cubes so utensils we
ren’t required. Melted cheese in a pot flavored with flecks of green and red bell peppers and the subtle scent of cayenne for her to dip the meat.

  Finger food—playful food.

  She swirled a finger in the hot cheese and brought it to her mouth. “Are you sure you’re not hungry? I’ll feed you.”

  His lips thinned, his defiance revealed in the straight, rigid lines of his body.

  She shrugged. “I’m famished.” She popped a piece of the meat into her mouth and chewed, closing her eyes to savor it. “You know,” she said around the mouthful, “I’m as much at their mercy as you are…well, except for the chains. You could be a little nicer.”

  Rene’s breath huffed, and he refused to speak.

  Hurt mixed with anger at his rejection had her thinking that perhaps he needed reminding just how vulnerable he was. She placed the tray near the bed and climbed onto the mattress beside him.

  He growled—an edgy sort of sound that only challenged her more.

  She stuck her finger into the steamy cheese again and brought a dollop to his nipple and rubbed over it in a small circle.

  Air hissed between his teeth. It was hot, but not hot enough to burn his skin.

  She leaned over him and lapped it away with her tongue, finding the treat so much more delicious when flavored by his unique taste. “Is it too hot?”

  Already she could see the tension that tightened his belly and thighs as he tried to reject her. But the little points of his nipples—stiff and erect as her own—told her not all of him was falling into line.

  “Just try to resist me,” she said softly. She put the tray down on the bed and picked up the pot of cheese. Then sitting cross-legged beside him, she began to paint his cock.

  His shaft twitched, and his breath hitched. She guessed the heat and the pepper must sting his most sensitive parts—but she had his full attention now.

  His cock jerked each time she trailed a finger along his shaft. His sex expanded and straightened, pointing toward the ceiling. As his erection grew, so did the angry tension that flexed his powerful shoulders and chest.

  She smiled at his fury and continued to work, taking her time to stroke on the creamy treat.

 

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