Blood Lust

by Alexandra Ivy

  She watched him with dark, hungry eyes, unconsciously licking her lips.

  His cock twitched in instant response. Christ, what he wouldn’t do to have her take him in between those lush lips.

  “I thought we weren’t talking?”

  A beat passed before he tilted back his head to laugh with rich enjoyment.

  The first time they’d been together it’d been all about heat and need and swift gratification. This time there was a far deeper connection.

  Not only because they shared a child whom they both loved, but because now he knew what caused the haunted shadows in the velvet depths of her eyes, and the boundless courage beneath her fragile appearance.

  He not only lusted after her, he actually admired her.

  Holding her gaze, he slowly tugged his shirt out of his pants and unbuttoned it. Peeling it off, he tossed it aside before he was moving to perch on the edge of the mattress. He kicked off his shoes and pulled off his socks, then, careful to stand where he wouldn’t whack his head, he slid down the zipper of his trousers.

  Acutely aware of her heated gaze, he shoved them off his legs along with his silk underwear. Instantly his erection throbbed in anticipation.

  He’d gone so long without giving thought to his sexual needs, he’d forgotten how intense the anticipation could be. Now he felt as if he were under some strange compulsion as he leaned a knee on the mattress, gazing down at the female stretched below him like a pagan sacrifice.

  Myst stirred restlessly beneath his unwavering scrutiny.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked in husky tones.

  “I want to take it slow,” he muttered. “I want to savor every second.” He leaned down to claim her mouth in a deep, searching kiss. He shuddered. Her lips tasted of honey and pure womanly temptation. An intoxicating combination. “Last time, I assumed we would have as long as we desired to explore one another.” He brushed his lips over her cheek, her temple, and her forehead, memorizing each finely molded feature. “I’m not making the same mistake again.”

  “I couldn’t stay,” she muttered, sounding as if she was speaking more to herself than him. “You refused to give me a job.”

  “I didn’t want you as my employee,” he chided, his hand wrapping around her throat in a gesture that was pure possession to a high-blood. “I wanted you to be my lover.”

  Chapter Ten

  Myst stared up at the magnificent man poised above her, the mere thought of creating another baby with him making her heart twist with a bittersweet longing.

  It was impossible, of course. She’d already been forced to give up one child. It would destroy her to have to walk away from another.

  Still . . .

  “Bas.”

  “Shh.” He leaned down to press a kiss to her lips before skimming his lips with a heart-stopping gentleness to the small design tattooed just behind her ear. The mark was the visible display for the spell that was supposed to keep her from getting pregnant. “We’ll deal with any repercussions together.”

  Myst groaned as he dipped his tongue into her mouth, shutting out the whispers of warning.

  After all, what were the chances of the spell failing again? Any risks were virtually nonexistent.

  Right?

  Shoving aside the fear, she instead relished the erotic sensations that reverberated through her as he used his tongue to trace the shell of her ear.

  For five long years she’d tried to deny the needs of her body. Something that’d been remarkably easy. At least it’d been easy until she’d walked into Bas’s hotel room.

  Now she vividly recalled why she’d so eagerly tumbled into his arms the first time.

  In this moment she didn’t want to think about unplanned pregnancies, or being on the run from the Brotherhood, or the fear that she was just a meaningless body to this male.

  No other male could make her feel like this, and if it was only for this one night, she intended to seize the moment.

  Her thoughts shattered as he stretched out beside her, his fingers gently stroking down her arm. She shuddered, her body clenching with anticipation.

  She’d been ridiculously innocent the first time she’d shared her body with Bas. She hadn’t been prepared for the overwhelming pleasure that had exploded through her. This time, she was able to fully appreciate Bas’s skillful touch.

  Not that there wasn’t still overwhelming pleasure.

  It was shimmering through her with a sharp-edged need that was demanding satisfaction.

  Ignoring the whispers of warning in the back of her mind, Myst placed her hands on his chest, exploring the satin heat of his skin.

  “I want this,” she assured him, relishing her power as he shuddered beneath her touch. “I want you.”

  He lifted his head to study her with a fierce need.

  Myst’s breath tangled in her throat as his burning bronze gaze swept slowly over her naked body.

  Good Lord, he was spectacular. His shoulders were broad. His chest was sculpted and his abs formed a perfect washboard. He had a narrow waist and hips that led to long, muscular legs.

  Her gaze was abruptly captured by the thick erection that made her clench in anticipation.

  It’d been so long.

  So painfully long.

  “I don’t know what you do to me,” she whispered, unaware she was speaking out loud.

  “I assure you the feeling is mutual, cara.” He threaded his fingers through her hair. “I’ve never wanted anyone like I want you.”

  His words melted any lingering hesitation. Who knew what the future would bring? For tonight she wasn’t going to let it rule her.

  Easily sensing the last of her barriers had crumbled, Bas bent his head to brand her lips in a kiss that demanded utter surrender.

  He rolled on top of her, molding her into the mattress. She groaned in bliss.

  The scorching heat of his skin branded her with a shattering pleasure, the graze of his fingers down her throat sending erotic sparks in their wake. A near-painful arousal rushed through her as his fingers traced the line of her collarbone, the scent of his male power clouding her mind.

  “This is what I’ve been waiting for.” He cupped one breast in his hand, taking her nipple into his mouth.

  Myst hissed in shock at the feel of his teeth closing over the tip, the tiny pain arrowing straight between her legs. His touch was magic.

  Pure magic.

  Sliding her hands up and over his shoulders, she explored the hard muscles of his back. Satisfaction pierced her heart at his muttered growl of pleasure. She wasn’t alone in her madness.

  Bas wanted her just as desperately as she wanted him.

  Somehow that fact was intensely important to her.

  “I didn’t expect this to happen again,” she muttered.

  He lifted his head to smile with rueful humor.

  “Neither did I . . . until you walked into my hotel room.” He held her gaze. “Then it became inevitable.”

  “Yes.” A craving she hadn’t experienced for five long years squeezed the air from her lungs.

  But it wasn’t the intensity of her reaction to Bas that she found unnerving. It was the odd sense of homecoming she felt in his arms.

  As if this was the place she was destined to be.

  No. She couldn’t let herself think that way. Not unless she wanted a broken heart on top of everything else.

  “Bas—”

  “It’s my turn to remind you that we’re not supposed to be talking, cara.” He kissed her, thrusting his tongue between her lips. Myst moaned, arching her body in greedy pleasure as his hands stroked over her naked body with a possessive boldness. “Just enjoy.”

  Anticipation licked through her like wildfire, the sheer force of his demands overriding her annoying inner voice.

  Enjoy . . .

  She allowed her eyes to slide shut, intent on the feel of his fingers circling her tightened nipples, and the thrust of his erection that pressed against her lower stomach. With ev
ery caress he was spiking her desire higher and higher, making her ache for completion.

  Scoring her fingernails up his back, Myst concentrated on making this night one that she could dream about for years to come.

  “You taste of honeysuckle,” he whispered, thrusting his thigh between her legs to press at her most sensitive flesh. “So sweet.”

  “I’m not always sweet,” she husked.

  “Good.” He pressed a soft kiss to her nipple that still tingled from his small bite, then slid his mouth downward. “Tonight I want you wicked.”

  Her heart thundered in her chest. She felt wicked. And utterly wanton.

  She lifted her hips in a silent invitation. “How wicked?”

  “We’re about to discover,” he promised, kissing a path down the center of her stomach.

  Myst rubbed against the hard muscle of his thigh. “Bas, I need you.”

  She tugged on his hair, trying to urge him up so she could kiss him. He refused to budge. Lifting his head, he studied her flushed face with a brooding gaze.

  “I want to taste you, Myst. Last time I was too impatient. Tonight I want to explore every satin inch of you.”

  A violent surge of excitement exploded through her at the thought of him crouched between her legs, his tongue sliding over her swollen clit.

  Oh, yes. That’s exactly what she wanted.

  As if reading her X-rated thoughts, Bas slid lower, keeping careful watch on her expression. She shivered at the raw tenderness that lurked in the depths of his bronze eyes.

  As if he . . . cared.

  She squashed the dangerous thought. Tonight was about pleasure and need, not emotions.

  He settled between her legs, his hands gripping her inner thighs as he ran his tongue through her damp heat. She nearly jerked off the bed at the powerful shock of bliss that cascaded through her.

  Her entire body was on fire. She needed more.

  She needed him buried deep inside her.

  “Please, Bas.”

  He chuckled, swiping his tongue over her tender bud. “Patience, cara.”

  Her toes curled, a delicious force swelling beneath the stroke of his tongue. “It’s too much.”

  “I’m just starting,” he muttered, pushing his tongue deep inside her.

  Myst made a sound of dazed need, her gaze riveted to the sight of him lying between her legs. He continued to tongue her even as he watched the emotions flicker over her face.

  Nothing had ever, ever felt so good.

  “Come for me, Myst,” he commanded, pressing his tongue deep inside her body. On cue, a brutal orgasm burst through her, making her body shake from the sheer joy.

  She cried out, trembling from head to toe at the glorious release.

  Still, Bas wasn’t done. His tongue pushed in and out of her body, swiftly teasing her back toward another climax.

  She groaned as he turned his attention to her swollen nub and gently sucked it, at the same time sinking a finger deep into her body.

  Myst hissed out a groan. It was too much. He was wrapping her in his sensual possession. How would she ever be free again?

  He turned his head to nibble at her inner thigh, his voice a low growl. “You’re ready?”

  “Yes. I want you inside me.”

  He chuckled, giving her one last, lingering lick before he was sliding upward. He paused to kiss the tip of each tightly budded nipple before he reached down to tug her legs apart, his gentleness not hiding the grim urgency that clenched his features.

  Dazedly feeling as if this was yet another fantasy, Myst grounded herself by grasping his shoulders, and concentrated on the stark beauty of his face. The elegant features that were flushed with passion, the satin darkness of his hair that fell across his forehead, and the bronze fire of his eyes.

  There would never be another male who could replace him.

  The thought had barely formed when he plunged into her wet channel with one hard surge of his hips.

  She made a sound of shock at the sensation of being conquered. Possessed with a ruthless intimacy.

  As if they were one.

  He held perfectly still, their gazes tangled as something seemed to pass between them. An emotion she refused to name.

  “You are so perfect,” he finally groaned, slowly beginning to thrust in and out of her. He watched her face, his sweat-drenched body trembling. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, unable to speak.

  He muttered beneath his breath as he spread her legs even wider. Then, surging forward, he impaled her with a fierce, unrelenting pace.

  She sank her nails into his back, arching to meet his hard thrusts. A swelling hunger raced through her as her body easily accepted his invasion. He dipped his head down to claim her mouth with an openmouthed kiss.

  He was dominating and raw and intense in his passion.

  And she loved it. Myst wrapped her legs around his pistoning hips, astonished to discover another massive orgasm was rapidly clenching her lower muscles.

  “Christ, I’ve missed you, cara,” he muttered against her lips, their bodies moving together with a primitive force.

  Her fingers tangled in his hair as his hands slipped beneath her butt to tilt her to an angle that allowed him to thrust even deeper.

  His cock hit a magical spot she didn’t even realize she possessed, sending her vaulting over the edge, the orgasm ripping through her as she cried out his name in stunned pleasure.

  * * *

  Lana ignored the weariness that made her feet feel oddly clumsy as she walked down the long corridor. It was an unfamiliar sensation. Usually her power made her feel so buoyed with energy that she could barely sit still.

  Of course, considering the amount of magic she’d used over the past few hours, it was amazing she had the strength to move at all. Most other witches would already have collapsed.

  Concentrating on placing one foot in front of the other, she took the elevator downward, a file folder held in one hand. The bulk of Valhalla was hidden below the surface of the large pentagon-shaped structure above ground. The lowest level was reserved for the secretive Sentinels as well as the large stash of weapons they kept hidden from prying eyes. The levels in between were taken up by private apartments, offices, a hospital, gym, and a vast library.

  Lana was headed to the second level where the Master of Gifts had claimed a dozen offices.

  Calder, the current Master, was in charge of tracing high-bloods around the world. His people had a rare ability to sense even the smallest spark of power in others. Usually all they did was log the person in to a database that included their name and talent. There was no law that said a high-blood had to live at Valhalla or a satellite compound.

  There were times, however, that a high-blood had to be brought in if their powers were a danger to themselves or others. Or if they’d broken the law.

  When that was necessary, Calder would send a hunter Sentinel to track down the high-blood.

  Almost as if the thought of Sentinels had conjured up their aggravating leader, Lana heard the sound of approaching footsteps and caught the unmistakable scent of raw male power.

  Ridiculously, she kept moving forward, as if she could ignore the male rapidly gaining ground on her. She’d have better luck trying to ignore an impending avalanche.

  Proving her point, she felt slender fingers grasp her upper arm, pulling her to an abrupt halt and turning her to confront Wolfe’s grim expression.

  Treacherous heat spiked through her body at his touch even as she fiercely kept her face smoothed of all emotion. Every day it seemed harder and harder to control her reaction to this male.

  “Wolfe.” She arched a brow. “Do you need something?”

  The Tagos narrowed his eyes to ruthless slits. A sure sign he wasn’t happy. As if the heat that sizzled against her skin wasn’t warning enough.

  “We need to speak.”

  “Perhaps later.”

  “Now.”

  With an arrogance shocking even for
this male, Wolfe was tugging her across the corridor and into an empty office. He closed the door behind them, reaching to snap on a small lamp on a nearby table.

  Lana barely noticed the tidy room with the oak desk and two deep leather chairs set near the floor-to-ceiling bookcase. She was far too busy glaring at her companion.

  She was furious at being manhandled.

  That’s why her heart was racing and butterflies fluttered in the pit of her stomach, right?

  It couldn’t be because her fingers ached to trace the copper features that reminded her of an Egyptian deity. Or to thread through the silky black hair with the striking silver streak that had always fascinated her.

  No.

  Dammit. She was the Mave. She wasn’t allowed to notice a male as anything more than a tool to be used for her people.

  Tilting her chin, she deliberately pulled her arm from his lingering grasp.

  “Do I have to remind you who I am?”

  Wolfe stepped forward, invading her space and allowing his power to wrap around her like a physical force.

  “You can if you want to, but it would be a waste of your breath.”

  She scowled. Wolfe enjoyed getting under her skin. He was a male who lived on the edge. In every aspect of his life.

  But he rarely pressed beyond the barriers she’d firmly established.

  “What’s wrong with you?” she demanded.

  “You,” he growled, leaning down until they were nose to nose. “You’re what’s wrong with me.”

  She blinked in shock. “What?”

  “When was the last time you ate?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “It’s a simple question.”

  His breath brushed her cheek, sending tiny jolts of awareness down her spine.

  This was dangerous. So . . . dangerous.

  Instinctively she took a step away from the disturbing male, her back hitting the glossy paneling.

  “I don’t remember,” she muttered.

  His hand landed on the wall next to her head as he once again leaned into her.

  “I do,” he growled. “It was over twenty-four hours ago.”

  Her brows snapped together. Had he been spying on her? Or had her personal chef been tattling? Neither possibility made her happy.