by Lynne, Donya
So long—too long—he had fought his body's needs, and all the dysfunctional and dissatisfying sex he had tried to use to replace his true desire for her—for Gina—had served only to tie him in knots of torment.
And now, inside the haven of her body, all those knots released and sent him into a second orgasm immediately on the heels of the first.
He grunted and cried out through the agonizing rapture as her back slapped the tile wall. Life burst within him, but the pleasure caused such delirium he could hardly enjoy the moment. For too long, he had sought refuge elsewhere, and now, when he wanted to relish his savior and fully experience the sharing of their bodies, all he could do was hold on and wait for the unleashing to end.
This was what he got for withholding himself for so long…for seeking absolution elsewhere. All the whores and all the abstinence had led him into decay. What he had needed to be truly cleansed was Gina. And now he had her. If only his body would ease enough so he could catch up and engage.
"Gina!" His body shuddered as he came again. Fucking hell! What was happening to him? He couldn't slow down the rapid-fire bursts that continued to rip through his muscles. As soon as he came, another orgasm began to build. He had wanted to take his time, to explore and worship her, but he couldn't. His body wouldn't let him. "God, I'm sorry," he said between gasps. "So sorry."
"Ssshhh." Her lips pressed against his ear. "Take what you need, baby. Don't stop." She held on as he took her to the floor of the shower.
He couldn't stop. She was a lock, and he was the only key that fit. With every thrust, he unlocked another treasure chest of pleasure. And in that pleasure, he saw his future. The past fell away, and all he was—everything in his world—was Gina.
He drove into her body again and again, unable to get enough now that he'd had a taste. Gina was exquisite. How had he refused this bouquet of perfection for so long? He had been crazy to deny his body's urgings.
Beneath him, her body rippled, and she gasped. "Don't stop…don't stop…"
Arousal—pure and feminine—spiraled and blended with his hormonal heat. She was about to come. Because of him. He was giving his mate the pleasure she deserved. Maybe not how he had wanted, but he would take it. The two of them anchored to one another and fed the give and take between them as the ultimate wave rose from the depths. This time when he came, she would join him, and their mating would be complete. She really would be his, and he really would be hers. Not that he wasn't already, because even now, Gina commanded every cell in his body.
With short, urgent strokes, Malek fed her fire, drew her release further into the open, and bathed in her pleas for more.
His fourth climax ripped through him as she cried his name and dug her nails into his back.
Claimed.
Malek was once more a claimed male.
For the last time.
CHAPTER 19
Lorena marched into the strong breeze that plowed between Chicago's skyscrapers. Tonight hadn't turned out at all as she had planned. For the second time in two days, she had lost Malek to another.
But the real bitch of it was that it looked like Malek had mated that cur who busted up her fun tonight. The connection between them even in the melee of flying fists had been unmistakable.
How could Malek have taken a mate? He didn't act like a mated male. Not even close. Bastard!
Gina, huh? Surely this wasn't the same Gina rumored to have swooped into town last month and blown a hole in the chest of an AKM enforcer. The same Gina wanted dead or alive for single-handedly shutting down Southeast cobalt production after a raid on a dreck facility went bad in Atlanta over a year ago. Bishop and Royce had been fuming for months trying to catch her. She had allegedly hunted down and killed over twenty cobalt distributors and dealers from that facility, and the price on her head was so high that dreck-friendly bounty hunters from all over the world had dropped other assignments to hunt her. So far, none had found her, but maybe that was about to change.
Perhaps the night hadn't been a total loss after all.
Still feeling spurned but at least more optimistic, Lorena made her way to the Underground, the place where seedier vampires dwelled and others escaped after the human bars announced last call. The Underground—or the UG, as it was known—was always open, even during the day, and she was sure to find an acceptable replacement for Malek here, as well as an opportunist or two she could join forces with to plot a means to an end where Gina was concerned.
Once she reached the UG's private entrance in a back alley, she took the stairs down into the guts of Chicago to a long, dark tunnel where a few lingering females leaned against the wall looking for one final sale before they packed it in for more personal pursuits. Drecks prowled the tunnel, as well, selling cobalt to those in search of a pick-me-up.
All walks of life came here. Even humans who were lured, unsuspecting, into the fray where their blood could provide entertainment for those who needed to feed.
Heavy bass from the main room echoed through the tunnel, and just ahead, a young vampire fell into violent tremors as the dreck who had just dosed him with cobalt capped his syringe and glanced over his shoulder at her.
His vivid blue eyes looked her up and down. Then he nodded and looked away as she passed. Everyone here knew who she was. At least those who mattered. She belonged to Bishop. She helped Bishop get what he wanted, which was more vampires for his lab experiments, and he gave her what she wanted, a chance to regain stature and power within the vampire race. And if they happened to fall into bed on occasion, so much the better. He was an inventive lover, and he never failed to leave her bloodied and bruised. He also didn't mind that she refused to be monogamous, which was an added bonus.
When she reached the heavy double doors to the main room, dented and scarred by years of wear, the doorman stepped aside and grinned.
"Hello, Lucan." Her gaze skipped down to his crotch. He was a favorite toy she enjoyed playing with when Bishop was away and no one else piqued her interest.
His hooded gaze ranged her appreciatively. "Lorena."
"Wanna play?" She sidled up next to him, pressing her breasts against the side of his abdomen. Lucan was a tall one, and built for aggression.
His lips spread into a devilish grin. "Only if you don't find the special visitors at the bar to your liking."
"Oh?" She arched one brow at him. Lucan knew her tastes, and while he certainly wouldn't mind taking her to his private chamber in the depths of the tunnel for a little one-on-one, he was blessedly patient and anything but possessive. If he was offering her an option other than himself, he knew she would find what she really wanted inside, not with him.
"Yes." Lucan's grin twisted, and he looked away. The devious twinkle in his eye, along with the way one side of his mouth curled mischievously, told her she was going to be very happy with the special visitors he had spied for her.
She playfully slapped his cheek a little harder than necessary. A gesture of endearment, and he knew it. "You're a dear, Lucan. Remind me to show my gratitude another time, won't you?"
His gaze smoldered. "You know I will."
Their arrangement was more one of convenience, as were all her liaisons, and she and Lucan kept each other happy during those times they both needed what others weren't providing. They looked out for each other, and in her line of work, if she could really call it that, having those who caught her back was a necessity.
With another playful slap, she pushed through the doors into the churning atmosphere of The Underground. Darkness invaded every corner, with dim red and blue lights barely illuminating the scene. Electronic trance pulsed from speakers around the large dance floor, where half-naked bodies undulated and pressed together.
A quick scan of the bar, and she located what Lucan had referred to. Two warrior-sized males with long, pale hair sat with their backs toward her.
Dacians.
Tingles shot out from her belly, and her knees went weak. Dacians! Two of them. Here. Bless
the stars that shine! Getting kicked out by Malek was beginning to look more and more like a stroke of good fortune than a devastating blow.
As the last remaining Thracian vampire, Lorena hadn't dreamed she would ever see another Dacian.
In the ancient past, around the time the Pharaohs began to rule Egypt, Dacians had been the only vampire race worthy to mate with Thracians, and even though Dacians were notorious for maintaining pure bloodlines, they made an exception for the Thracians, who were as physically demanding and ruthless as they were.
Their two clans made strong allies, and Thracians had supported Dacian rule during the great uprising when Bain's ancestors overthrew them and stole the throne.
That had been before Lorena's time, but her people had rued the day Dacian rule ceased and a new regime took over and spent the next two millennia hunting and exterminating anyone of Dacian or Thracian descent as new vampire colonies continued to thrive.
Those who didn't go into hiding suffered in glorified witch hunts until both clans neared extinction. Then the drecks rose against the vampires and diverted their attention, thus ending the bloody vampire revolution, but not before the Dacian and Thracian clans were so weakened that extinction seemed imminent.
Lorena eyed the two striking males. Although she had heard recent rumors that Dacians hadn't gone extinct as previously thought, she was still surprised to see two of them here.
The two males glanced around the crowded, darkened room and appeared as though they were looking for companionship. Unlike with Malek, she needn't worry she would lose these fine specimens to another. Dacians didn't like to mix with what they referred to as lesser vampires, or even humans. Not to say they wouldn't do so to get their jollies, but once they saw her and realized she was Thracian, they would take to her like the captain of the football team took to the head cheerleader.
As if on cue, the taller of the two swiveled his head around and met her gaze. Something in his body language said he was in charge.
She smiled and descended into the belly of the club as the gaze of the second male turned and joined that of the first. Moving like an alley cat in heat, she slid up between them and waved down the bartender.
"Disaronno. On ice."
A palm fell over her ass and glided up to the small of her back. "I thought Thracians were extinct," the taller one said.
How impressive that he recognized her bloodline so quickly. She turned toward him. His silver, hooded eyes held his interested appraisal of her.
"I could say the same thing about Dacians," she said. "But then…here we are."
"And how interesting is that?" The second male leaned closer and his arm slid around her waist.
These two seemed intent on sharing, which was fine by her. The more, the merrier.
The bartender brought her drink, set it down, and faded away.
"How about we find someplace dark, boys? Someplace where we can…" She looked back and forth between them. "Talk."
Talking was the last thing on her mind, but like others in the room, she wasn't opposed to fucking them both right there among the other patrons. Some nights in The Underground became more or less an orgy, anyway. Perhaps this could be one of those nights, but she wouldn't share these two with anyone. They were hers now.
"Lead the way," the taller one said.
Both followed like lethal predators ready to mark their territory as she led them away from the bar toward a darkened cove split off from the main room.
"What are your names?" She set her drink on a table in the corner. At the next table over, a female had her face in the lap of a male who stared down at her with glazed eyes as she bobbed up and down.
This place was like Studio 54 in its heyday.
"Vaydon." The shorter of the two sat down and pulled her onto his lap so she faced him.
"I'm Searcy." The other slid in beside them.
"My name's Lorena."
Vaydon's arms tightened around her and Searcy pushed closer, bringing his mouth to her ear. "We're pleased to meet you, Lorena."
She grinned against Vaydon's strong hold and the way Searcy eased around behind her as he pushed the table out of the way so he could close her in with his arms stretched out against the wall on either side of her. "I want you to fuck me hard," she said, in heaven, panting and ready to be stripped down and laid bare.
"Oh, rest assured, Lorena. You'll be fucked hard. But first." Searcy gripped a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back. "Tell us how it is that you smell of our prey. Her scent clings to you. And while your body is something to be desired, we didn't come to Chicago to fuck. We came here to kill. And while we'll make an exception for one as fine as you, make no mistake, you are not our priority. Is that understood?"
Anger and frustration rose like a tidal wave. She was not going to be thwarted a second time tonight. No way! And what did they mean that the scent of the one they hunted was all over her. Who? She reared back to screech an angry howl at him, but Searcy clamped his hand over her mouth and Vaydon drove the tip of a blade under her chin.
These two were serious.
And they were seriously turning her on.
"Don't make us hurt you, Lorena. It would be a shame to mar such rare, exquisite flesh, but we will if we have to." He bit her earlobe, and she nearly came from the pain as his fang pierced the tender flap of skin. "Now, tell us...where did you come in contact with our prey, and then we will reward you with what you want."
Searcy removed his hand from her mouth, and she practically panted the words, "I don't know who you're talking about. Who are you after?"
Vaydon slid the blade down her neck between her breasts, and she moaned. "The assassin who tried to kill me. She's short. Has dark hair. Smells like vanilla and cloves. We know she's here, and it's clear you were with her recently. Or someone who was very close to her." He pulled her more securely onto his lap and ground his erection between her legs. The thrill of pain mixed with pleasure obviously excited him, too. "Where have you been tonight, Lorena?"
"Yes, just where have you been? And who have you been with?" Searcy reached around and cupped her breasts.
The sensory overload was off the charts, but not so much that she couldn't put two and two together. "You want Gina."
"Gina?"
"Yes. She's mated to Malek, a member of the King's Men. A real whore." She spoke on a breathless moan and ground her pelvis against the hard ridge in Vaydon's lap, close to coming.
Searcy's grip on her breast tightened and she gasped as a burst of pleasure erupted low in her abdomen like an explosion of bees. "Ah yes. Gina. But…" He licked her neck. "What was that about a mate? Mated males can pose a problem."
She reached around with one hand and held onto the back of Searcy's head as she gyrated her hips again and moaned. "He won't be a problem. He's weak."
"Even a weak mated male is strong, sweet thing," Vaydon said.
She barely heard him, lost in pleasure. But one thing was clear. Lorena had found what she sought by coming to the UG. Searcy and Vaydon could give her what her body needed, and they were the perfect partners to help her claim the bounty on Gina's head. "No. He's been in suffering…hasn't been feeding…" She thought of the wounds on Malek's face. "He isn't healing."
Searcy hummed thoughtfully. "Not healing, is he? Well, that makes a difference."
Lorena nodded and rubbed herself with more urgency against Vaydon's erection. "I'll help you. Let me help you kill her."
If these two wanted to kill Gina, she would gladly help. She owed that bitch for taking away her fun. And a third of the bounty on her head would be a nice bonus.
* * *
Searcy was surprised to see a Thracian in Chicago, let alone one as beautiful as Lorena. And from her reaction to him and Vaydon, she, like her ancestors, enjoyed receiving rough treatment as much as he enjoyed giving it. The giving and receiving of pain between their clans in days of old, when the world of vampires had been different, had always been a common bond between them
.
Her eagerness to help hunt down their quarry impressed him, too. Fealty still existed between their races, and he would reward her well for being quick to offer her assistance. But first things first.
"Tell me more about Gina, Lorena." He stepped back and growled as the name struck a chord in his memory. He suddenly remembered where he had scented Gina before.
Over a century ago, his spurned sister, angry with her mate, seduced a common male in his calling. How she lured him away from his mate remained a mystery, a secret she had taken to her premature death, but the offspring she birthed had grown to be an impressive half-breed. A male named Armand.
Gina had been Armand's mate. And a treasonous one at that. She had killed Armand.
Self-defense, the royal court had decreed. Self-defense, his ass. They could call it what they wanted, but by his definition, she had murdered Armand. He had been her mate. As such, he had rights over her body and soul to do whatever he wished with her. If that meant beating her to within a brink of death, so be it. That was his right. If she was too weak to survive, that was her fault, but for her to kill him under the guise of self-defense was ludicrous.
He had helped his sister lay Armand to rest in their sacred burial grounds, back into the earth where he belonged, but he had never gone after Gina. But now that bitch had come for another of his blood, and he had double the motivation to see her dead.
Searcy wouldn't make the mistake of letting her get away this time. He caressed the handle of the ancient blade sheathed beneath his trench coat, its alloy a deadly combination of metal and primitive magic cast by wizened yet powerful Dacian priestesses older than time. The weapon had been in his bloodline for millennia, since his forefathers ruled the race.
He spun back toward Vaydon. "Release her."
Vaydon's brow creased with confusion, but he did what he was told and lowered the blade and let go of her.
"No. Don't stop!" Lorena grabbed the knife and tried to pull it back to her throat as she dry-humped his son. Her scent indicated she was within seconds of coming.