by Lisa Marie
“Lets go,” he said without preamble, then took her hand and dragged her further into the woods.
* * * *
Sebastian saw the orange flames licking the sky as his car turned into the gates surrounding his property. Rage flashed a brilliant red through his eyes and he rolled down the window to get a better look. He had gone out after his conversation with Ash, to keep a meeting with a man whose hotel business had piqued his interest. He thought he had left his home and guests in capable hands. The fire burning its way through the interior of his house proved differently.
“Find out what happened,” he told Edward, after the werewolf brought the black Lincoln to a stop. The smooth calm of his voice belied the icy rage that was snaking through him.
“Yes, sir.” Edward slipped out of the car and disappeared around the side of the house, giving the firemen trying to save the structure a wide berth. Sebastian got out, as well, his focus on the destruction. The heavy stone facade kept the flames inside, but he could imagine the interior going up like kindling. All those antiques, priceless paintings, invaluable rugs. Gone. He held no hope that Ash and Eve were inside, their bones scorching to dust. He did hope that his bumbling guards were dispatched, however, for their own sake. Sebastian’s anger was not something that most wanted to see.
“Mr. Kane?”
“Hello, officer. We really should quit meeting like this,” Sebastian drawled as the same man from the night at the bar walked up.
“Yeah. Helluva a way to get to say hello, don’t you think?” the man responded, his light words belied by the steel in his voice. “This is the second time one of your buildings has been set on fire. And this one seems a bit more personal.”
“Can you tell me anything about the cause?”
“No, sir. Not yet. The kitchen staff smelled smoke, called 911, and hauled ass outside. We’ll have to wait for the fire to get under control before we can establish the cause.”
Sebastian could see the suspicion in the man’s eyes as he talked. It was clear who he thought was responsible. He had to hold tightly to his temper to keep from ripping the human’s face off. As pleasant as the thought was, he couldn’t afford to have people finding out what he was. “Please, let me know if I can be of assistance.”
“Oh, I will. Don’t worry about that. You’re going to be in town for the next couple of days, right.” It wasn’t a question.
“Of course,” Sebastian managed with a polite smile. “I’ll be staying in town.”
“Just make sure we have the numbers where to reach you, Mr. Kane.”
“As always.”
Edward walked up as the officer moved away, his face grim. “From what I can tell, the south side basement window was ripped out. It could have been caused by the fire…”
“But it’s unlikely. Find them, Edward. Find them and kill them. After they have led you to Brianne.”
“That’s what you pay me for,” the werewolf said with a sinister smile. Finally Sebastian was thinking with his head and not his curiosity. Edward felt almost joyful.
With a final grin in the direction of his boss, Edward skirted the mansion’s perimeter again, waiting until he was well out of eyesight of the firemen. Then his body and face shifted and changed until he was in full wolf form, his coat of chocolate brown fur shining in the moonlight. He crashed through the trees, his powerful sense of smell easily picking up the trail of his prey.
Chapter Thirteen
Silently, from the bedroom door, Mark watched Brianne. She sat cross-legged on the edge of the bed, her vibrant eyes wide and wet. He could see the tears glistening in the moonlight that filtered in through the window. Her lips were still swollen from his kiss, her skin still flushed from her orgasm. She was quite possibly the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, and he ached for nothing more than to take her back into his arms and make love with her all night long.
“God, Brie.” The harsh whisper was more a curse than a prayer. The hurt look she sent him as he pulled his gaze from her half naked body too damning to ignore.
Cursing himself, he stepped into the room and walked the short distance towards her, not quite sure what he would do once he reached her.
“What do you want?” she asked, her voice thick from crying.
What did he want? How the fuck was he supposed to know? He’d pretty much been winging it since he’d woken up from the nightmare. Brie flinched when he reached out a hand, but didn’t pull away when he ran his fingertips over her cheek. She just kept looking at him, like she expected an answer even though he didn’t have one to give.
Mark ran the pad of his thumb under her eye, feeling the remnants of her tears and hating himself for causing them. Her eyes fluttered closed and she turned her cheek into his touch. He should walk away again, but he couldn’t make himself go. Instead, he let his fingers drift over the soft, damp skin of her cheek, the delicate bone of her jaw to the bare expanse of her neck. Her silky hair tickled his knuckles, sending a shiver of longing down his spine.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, reaching out with his other hand to cup her cheek. “Perfect.”
Brianne sat rigid, the eagerness for his touch gone from her expression. She watched him through wary eyes, her face otherwise a mask of indifference. She could pretend lack of interest, but she couldn’t stop the slight shudder or the catch in her breathing when he dropped one hand to the firm slope of her breast. She couldn’t hide the audible gasp when he traced a finger around a hard nipple through her thin shirt.
“I’m sorry, Brie.” Mark dropped to his knees, his raging need for her spurring him on. The words fell from his lips without thought. “Please, let me…”
“What?” she asked, her voice a bare whisper.
Her breathing came in little hot gasps. He could feel them on his face as he leaned forward. Then she seemed to stop breathing as he looked deeply into her eyes, pinning her under the heat of his gaze. “Let me touch you.”
She stared at him unblinking, the breath still seeming to be caught in her throat. Just as Mark was sure she’d either pass out from lack of oxygen or worse, turn him down, she leaned forward and tenderly pressed her lips against his.
A desperate moan slid from him as he pulled her closer. He cradled her head in his hand, holding her still as he increased the pressure of the kiss. Her lips parted sweetly under his, allowing his tongue to slide inside and tangle with hers. Brianne made the most wonderful little sounds in the back of her throat, each delicate mewl making Mark’s blood run hotter.
Without pretense, he released her face and slid his hands under her shirt, smoothing the soft, warm flesh. He explored every inch of her back, chasing the quiver of her muscles with his fingertips. When he broke the kiss, her head dropped back, exposing the long line of her neck to his hungry lips. He nipped and bit his way along the creamy column, savoring the taste of her skin.
When he reached for the hem of her shirt, she raised her arms over her head without question and let him remove it. Mark felt as if all the air in his lungs had gone at the sight of her bare breasts. Firm and heavy, with dark, erect nipples. Her skin was smooth, milky in contrast, made all that much more so by the moonlight bleeding in from the window.
“Straighten your legs,” he demanded when he could speak.
After a brief pause, she did so, lifting her hips so that he could hook his fingers under the straps of her panties and pull them along her legs. The blood sizzled in his veins and his cock gave a savage throb as he stood and dropped the panties to the floor.
“Lie back,” he ordered, amazed his voice didn’t tremble. “I want to look at you.”
This time she paused a bit longer, but then gave in.
Hell, she was so perfect. From the slope of her jaw to the swell of her breasts, the soft curve of her hips to the auburn curls covering her sex. Even her feet were perfect, delicate and slender. His penis hardened impossibly further. Still, he denied himself touching her just yet. Not until he’d looked his fill.
Mark drank her in until she seemed to grow uncomfortable and started to try to cover up. Before she could do so, he reached for her. Brie slid easily into his arms, moving with him as he settled on the bed beside her. He kissed her, his mouth gentle this time, and yet achingly possessive. He growled when her fingers connected with his chest, her touch unsure and hesitant. He captured her hand with his and pressed it flat on his skin, guiding her for a second, showing her it was all right to explore, before taking his hand away to cup her breast.
The lush feel of her breast was forgotten as her hand slid down his chest and over the muscles of his stomach to gingerly touch the bulge in his jeans. Gasping with the contact, he pulled away from her mouth and squeezed his eyes shut. He struggled for control as her fingers explored the rigid flesh through the denim. How could a touch that seemed so untried be so damned erotic?
“Shit!” he ground out, willing himself not to come.
Brie jerked away, and his eyes snapped open to see that she’d misunderstood. He pulled her closer and grabbed her wrist to draw her hand back. “See what you do to me? What you’ve been able to do since the first fucking time I laid eyes on you?” He pressed her hand against his cock and gyrated his hips. “This is because of you.” He could see the exact moment that she realized the power she held over him. A light seemed to emanate from her gaze, piercing him with its intensity. Her touch became bolder, more sure as she cupped him.
“Can I … touch you … inside your jeans?”
Mark nearly lost it at her question. He could imagine the blush that must have been staining her cheeks, but she met his gaze head on regardless.
“God, I wish you would,” he growled.
In one fluid motion they rolled together so that he was lying on his back and Brie was on her knees, leaning over him. He didn’t give her a chance to fumble with the clasp of his jeans. He had to have her touch and he had to have it now. Her eyes widened when he drew down the zipper and pushed the heavy denim aside, sliding the jeans down his hips to his thighs. At her gasp, he looked up. She wore the look of a person who had come face to face with either their best dream or their worst nightmare. He prayed it was the former.
“It’s so…” Brianne never finished her thought as she finally—finally—reached out to him.
He nearly wept as her fingers closed around the pulsing heat of his shaft.
“The skin … it’s so soft,” she whispered, sounding surprised. She leaned closer, her gaze intent on his dick. Her hair fell forward with her movements, sliding over his stomach. When his penis jumped in response, her hold lessened. He couldn’t help but grin at her stunned look.
“What’s the matter, princess? Scared?” He shouldn’t taunt, but she looked so damn cute.
She let out a sniff and looked down her nose at him. She might have meant it to shrivel him up, but it only made him all that much harder.
“I assure you, Mr. Lynch, there is nothing about you that scares me.”
She was lying. They both knew it. But Mark was willing to let it slide if she would just keep touching him.
“Please Brie, I’m dying here.” He rotated his hips against the bed, sliding his shaft through her fingers. Sensation rocketed through him, bringing a groan from deep within his throat.
“Well, I guess we wouldn’t want that,” she teased, the knowledge of her power over him evident in her eyes. She gently pumped his flesh, watching his face with each stroke. He thrust his hips into her touch, his head writhing on the bed and his hands fisting in the sheets.
“Oh, fuck…” His entire body pulsed with each pass of her fist along his hot flesh. He reached out blindly, brushing the skin of her thigh with his fingertips. He seized that thigh in his fingers and tugged, urging her to move closer.
“What are you doing, Mr. Lynch?”
God, if such a thing was possible, that haughty way she had of calling him Mr. Lynch was making him more aroused.
“Come here,” was the only answer he gave her.
It took a couple more seconds of tugging before her thighs were finally straddling his head, naked and open. Mark gloried in the soft pink folds of her sex, inhaling the slight musk of her desire. Dew clung to the curls covering her labia, making his hunger all that more keen.
“Mark?” Brie sounded nervous, almost scared, but she didn’t try to move off of him.
Her hand still encircled his shaft, and he gave a little shift of his hips to get it moving again. She didn’t take the hint. Mark slid a hand up over her hip to keep her in place. She jerked when he ran a finger along her slit. Her breath came out in a whoosh, bathing his cock in warmth and causing it to twitch again. He groaned when she seemed to remember what she’d been doing and started to pump him once more. He savored the feeling for a few seconds, his eyes closed in pleasure, then opened them to focus on her wet, pink center.
With the hand on her hip, he pushed her down, so that her glistening mons was a breath away. Her touch faltered and briefly he wondered if she had figured out what he was going to do.
She yelped with the first swipe of his tongue over her flesh. She tried to pull away, but he held her firm. He pushed his tongue between her nether lips, savoring the taste of her arousal as it burst onto his tongue. He found her clitoris with his finger, gently circling the swollen nub as he pushed his tongue deep into her sheath.
Brie’s head fell to his thigh, her hips jerking in time with each hard thrust of his tongue. Her hand fisted more firmly around his throbbing cock, pumping him faster as her pleasure built. Her nails bit into his skin, her teeth nipped at his thigh. Low, guttural moans sounded from her throat.
“Oh, God! Don’t … stop. Don’t…” She writhed over him, her orgasm fast approaching if the short, hot spurts of her breath on his skin were any indication.
Mark reached down between their bodies and gripped his hand over hers, forcing her to jerk him off more quickly. When his balls tightened, hugging his body, and his impending climax coiled tension throughout him, he let her hand go. He pulled his tongue out of her dripping channel and sucked gently on her clit. Her shriek of ecstasy bounced off the walls and sent him flying over the edge with a final thrust of his hips. Her juices spilled over his chin while his cock pulsed in her fist. Her name slid from his lips, over and over, as orgasm claimed him completely.
With a jerking start, Mark came awake, a groan of frustration fast falling from his lips. His dick was rock hard and throbbing and more than a little uncomfortable. He shifted on the couch, groaning when all that accomplished was to make his problem painful. He pounded the pillow and squeezed his eyes shut against the morning sun spilling in the window, while trying to ignore the agonizing throb in his jeans. There was no denying that he wanted Brianne. No matter how he’d tried to fight his lust for her, last night shot the denial to hell. And that dream took care of any lingering remnants.
Now what to do about it?
In the harsh light of day, and after a night that proved he was right about the couch being a perfect torture device, Mark was feeling like a class “A” ass. He was sore, tired and frustrated. And he deserved every bit of it. In fact, he wouldn’t have been surprised to wake up from what little sleep he had gotten to find Brie had taken one of the knives from the kitchen and cut off all his protruding parts. Luckily, everything was still intact, including his guilt.
He’d had no right to lash out at her the way he had. He couldn’t even explain it to himself. He had woken up, shaken to the core from his dream, and her soft touch had chased all the ghosts away. Her eagerness to comfort him soothed his battered soul and alleviated the pain that pierced his heart. He had been drawn to her, seeking to take what she offered so freely. Her smooth skin beneath his hands and her soft, moist center pressed intimately against him spurred a deeper, more basic instinct.
God, she had tasted so fucking sweet.
But that didn’t make his reaction to seeing her unabashedly writhing beneath him, her eyes the color of deep burgundy wine, any
less asinine. He’d had no right to say the things he’d said.
And that was what had kept him up most of the night.
Fear, plain and simple, had prompted the shit that he had said. In the second that her orgasm had crashed over her, the look on her face had taken his breath away. The haze of his lust had cleared and he’d known that, if given the chance, the woman could push him over an edge he was in no way ready to fly over. So, he had taken it out on her.
You’re a real prince, Lynch.
Mark wouldn’t be surprised if the least she did was not talk to him again. He didn’t want to imagine the worst since her Siren powers made her extremely dangerous.
Giving up on sleep, Mark stalked down the hall to the bathroom. Within seconds, he was in the shower. He stood for minute, adjusting the temperature of the water, then ducked his head under the spray to get his hair wet. Figuring his raging hard-on was good self punishment for being a jerk, he ignored the need sliding through his veins and soaped up in a no nonsense way.
A couple of minutes later, Mark was stepping out onto the thick rug beside the tub and reaching for a towel. In less than five minutes, he was walking back out of the bathroom, wearing the same clothes he had on from the day before, since his bag was in the room with Brie. He wasn’t ready to test those waters yet.
He walked into the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee and find something to eat. Once the coffee was perking, he pulled out two mugs and set them on the counter. The least he could do was bring Brianne coffee. And while he was about getting himself food, it couldn’t hurt to make her something, too. He knew that whatever he did, short of groveling at her feet, wouldn’t even begin to make up for the way he’d behaved. But he had to at least make the effort. Flora would skin him alive if he didn’t try.
The thought of Flora had him glancing out the window to see the bright morning sky. He knew there was no way Ash would come now, but damn, he was starting to get worried.
“Where in the fuck are you, Ash?” Mark asked the air, before turning back to the pan sitting over a low flame.