His eyes narrowed to slits. Those red markings shifted and flowed across his flesh and I shuddered as I realized I could even feel that dancing heat under my palm. “Here too,” I murmured, dipping my head to press my mouth to his cock.
A hoarse shout escaped him and he bucked against that light kiss.
Rolling my eyes upward, I studied him.
A feverish glint echoed in his eyes. Smiling a little, I parted my lips and took the head in my mouth. It was like taking a molten, living flame inside me…like tasting fire—yet it didn’t burn. I groaned and took more. His hand tangled in my hair, right at the base of my skull like he wanted to urge me on, but wasn’t sure if he should.
If he hadn’t stretched my mouth so tight, I might have smiled. Taking as much of him as I could, I eased down and then dragged my head back up. Again. Again. Again. The thick vein along the underside pulsed in time with my rhythm and when I reached up to close my hand around the warm, heavy sac of his balls, he loosed a low litany of curses.
I squeezed and then, he moved.
I was on my back, my hands pinned over my head as he came down between my legs. “You asked for it,” he muttered, his mouth claiming mine as he settled between my thighs.
Yeah. I had. Now I was going to enjoy it.
As he tucked the head of his cock against my entrance, I groaned. I was so wet, he slid slick against me before he guided himself home. As he flexed his hips and pushed inside, I had to suck in a desperate breath of air. Then, his eyes locked on mine, he pulled out, surged back in.
It was a maddening, slow possession and I arched up to meet him, trying to drive him on, take it faster, deeper. He pressed down with his hips, using his body to control mine.
By the time he had his length seated completely within me, I’d torn small gashes into my palms and everything in me was focused on one thing—climax.
He started to move deeper. Swifter. I jerked against his grip, desperate to hold him tighter, to have him ride me, harder. His mouth caught my ear, his teeth tugging sharply and I cried out, blindly shouting him name.
When he let my wrists go, I gripped his shoulders, my nails sinking into the flesh there as he slid one hand down my back, caught my hips and lifted me—it was such a subtle movement but the effect was electrifying. Now, with every deep thrust, he rode my clit and the feel of that hot body rubbing against me there was more than I could handle. Too much—way, way too much.
I cried out as the muscles in me went tight, preparing for orgasm. I wanted—needed—
His mouth covered mine and I bit him, not even realizing I was going to do it.
He groaned and took the kiss deeper, like I’d just made him hungrier. I was startled to realize that was what I’d done…for me. The feel of him losing control, the faint taste of his blood, the way he held me so tight, so hard—
His name exploded through my mind and I would have screamed it, except I couldn’t do anything, except arch against him, and clutch him, so tight, desperate to never let him go as that orgasm rocked me. From the tips of my toes and spreading upward, outward.
Finn…
He snarled, his mouth plundering mine. Even as I convulsed around him again, he stiffened. A long, low moan rumbled out of him and his cock jerked. I cried out as that heated, thick pillar of flesh pulsed inside me, stroking over nerves already so sensitive.
Finn…
He sank down on top of me, his weight pinning me to the bed.
I didn’t mind at all.
Holding him to me, I turned my face into his neck.
Mine…
Tears stung my eyes. I sniffled.
“Don’t cry,” he said, his voice hoarse.
“I’m not.”
He laughed, the sound slightly dazed and then, with a ragged groan, he pushed upright until we were nose to nose. He rubbed the tip of his nose to mine and then whispered, “Here’s that first little lesson on what’s inside us. We can smell things…fears, blood, excitement…tears. You’ve cried enough over me. Please don’t cry now.”
“What about happy tears?” I curled my arms around his neck and tugged him closer, needing that so much just then.
“Hmmm.” He rolled onto his back, taking me with him. “Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.” His arms tightened around me and then, after he’d pressed a hard, fast kiss to my brow, he said, in a voice almost rough with emotion, “I can’t believe you’re here. How did this happen?”
“Didn’t I say I’d come back a thousand times…sweetheart?” I forced a light tone into my voice as he lifted his head. I wasn’t going to talk about how close I’d been to giving up. I’d been an idiot. A hundred lives of pain would be worth it, if it landed me right here.
Finn trailed a finger down my cheek. Then, to my surprise…and delight, a smile flashed across his face. It was a real smile—the first real one I’d seen from him in… lifetimes. “Don’t call me sweetheart.”
“Hmmm. Maybe I’ll just call you mine. Because you are. In this life, or any other.”
Epilogue
Fall gave way to winter. Winter gave way to summer, and then summer into fall.
The seasons merged into one another and the months blurred by. Too many of them, but she kept track of each of every one. Mandy kept track of everything simply by counting the days since she’d lost him.
Now, as a second cold, gloomy winter wrapped Scotland in her grip, Mandy made her way back to where it had happened.
The wet snow clinging to her hair, her lashes, her clothes didn’t make much difference to Mandy, even though she’d been trudging through it for nearly thirty miles.
She’d done what she’d promised—helped track down the demons who’d escaped through the rips that had appeared in the veil during that awful battle. It had taken more than two years, and too many deaths, before Sina seemed to think the worst was over.
Yesterday, the woman had told Mandy to get the hell out, go rest.
Mandy had almost returned home—home. Where she’d lived with Will. Sina had told her the place was hers.
Of course, Mandy would have killed anybody who tried to take it from her.
She hadn’t been able to stay there, though.
His scent was everywhere, although after so much time, it was fading.
Nothing was the same.
All that pristine white had faded the last time she’d managed to sneak away and go there for a few days, hoping to find solace.
It had just served to add another scar to a heart already full of them.
At first it had befuddled her the way she could leave something around him and it would slowly lose all color until it was as brilliant a white as his own clothes. She’d worried that she’d end up the same way. It hadn’t happened, not to her, and as long as she kept her clothes in her room, they were untouched by that unique, impossible power.
But the power was gone now.
The blue jeans she’d bought him as a joke were once more the faded blue.
The black T-shirts that had gone to white were now as black as they’d been when she’d bought them.
Everything that was him was gone, save for her memories, and that lingering, dying scent.
If she went back and found even that one final sign gone, it would rip her open and she’d just fall apart, maybe even cease to exist. She couldn’t handle it.
So she’d come here.
To this place where she’d seen him that final time.
If I could have let myself, I would have loved you.
Sinking to her knees in the freezing snow, she stared at the ground. It was here. In this very spot.
She couldn’t see the grass, but she knew, could feel it, like a scar on her very soul.
Reaching down, she pushed through the snow and ice until she touched frozen ground.
“It’s not over,” she sai
d, her voice thick. “I refuse to believe you’re gone. I’ll find a way to bring you back.”
Closing her eyes, she gave herself a few minutes to pretend that he was there. That he’d heard her. That this hadn’t happened, that she’d been able to save him.
But then she stood and squared her shoulders.
She’d finished the task Sina had laid before her, because Will would have wanted it. But now it was time for the most important one… Finding Will.
“I’ll bring you back.”
She turned, but before she could take a step, something black drifted down from the sky.
She stared at it for a long moment and then she picked it up.
A single black feather.
About the Author
Shiloh Walker has been writing since she was a kid. She fell in love with vampires with the book Bunnicula and has worked her way up to the more…ah…serious works of fiction. She loves reading and writing just about every kind of romance. Once upon a time she worked as a nurse, but now she writes full-time and lives with her family in the Midwest. She writes romantic suspense and paranormal romance, and urban fantasy under the name J.C. Daniels. For more about Shiloh Walker, please visit her website: www.shilohwalker.com.
Also, check her out on Facebook: www.facebook.com/authorshilohwalker and Twitter: www.twitter.com/shilohwalker.
Look for these titles by Shiloh Walker
Now Available:
Talking with the Dead
Always Yours
For the Love of Jazz
Beautiful Girl
Vicious Vixen
Playing for Keeps
My Lady
The Redeeming
No Longer Mine
A Forever Kind of Love
The Hunters
The Huntress
Hunter’s Pride
Malachi
Hunter’s Edge
Grimm’s Circle
Candy Houses
No Prince Charming
Crazed Hearts
I Thought It Was You
Tarnished Knight
Locked in Silence
Grimm Tidings
Blind Destiny
For a woman he can’t touch, he’ll turn Hell inside out.
The Innocent
© 2014 Shiloh Walker
FBI Psychics, Book 2
There’s only one reason Jay Roberts would set foot in a middle-of-nowhere town like Hell, Georgia. She’s got a bone to pick with her sort-of boyfriend. They only met online, but things got hot and heavy before their cyber link went silent.
She’s here to get in his face for an explanation. But no touching. Her psychic abilities make physical contact…complicated. Yet something about this relationship made her think things would be different. She’s not in Hell twenty minutes before bad vibes have her skin crawling.
Corruption has stained the very fabric of Linc Dawson’s town, and now it’s stolen something very dear to him. The last thing he has time for is nursing Jay’s broken heart.
But Jay isn’t going anywhere. Not only because she’s not giving up on him, because she’s got access to the kind of backup nobody wants on their bad side. And Linc discovers the woman who’s afraid to touch him could actually be his best chance. At salvation, at hope, at life. Maybe even love…
Warning: This book contains a not-so-naive virgin, a pissed-off former cop, lots of frustration, if you know what I mean, and more trouble than either of them know what to do with.
Enjoy the following excerpt for The Innocent:
“Linc…”
Her voice was soft, sad.
The sympathy in her eyes practically tore him open.
When she lifted a hand to touch his cheek, the very last thing he needed to do was stand there, let her touch him when he was feeling so raw.
Her fingers brushed his skin and he caught her wrist, twisted it behind her back and glared down at her. “Don’t,” he panted, pressing his brow to hers. “Don’t stand there and look at me like that if that’s why you’ve come.”
“It’s not.”
Her voice was steady, gentle as a soft summer rain, but the truth was stamped on her face. “I came down here to have it out with you, the way you went and dumped me, you big ass.” She shoved his shoulder with her free hand, then her hand curled into his shirt, her fingers kneading at him like a little cat. “I didn’t even know you had a daughter.”
The relief that hit him was almost devastating. Head swimming, he collapsed back against the windowsill, clutching her against him. “But you… Morgan…”
“My boss.” She rested her brow against his chest. “I had a feeling there was going to be trouble and she sent Taige here to help me cover my ass. Linc, there are some big-ass problems going on here and I need to know what’s going on with your daughter.”
He stared at her face, her eyes vivid and intent.
The tension, the fear that had been mounting in him for the past hour—more—felt like it abruptly drained out of him. A little pop practically sounded in his ear and he sagged, hauling her against him, uncaring of the blood that stained her shirt. It didn’t matter.
Nothing mattered.
He had a reprieve.
He was a cop and he knew what the truth was, knew it waited for him.
But that wasn’t why Jay was here.
All that frustration and fear came out of him in a shaking sigh and he slowly lifted his head, stared into her eyes.
Then, focused on just one thing, he nodded. “That’s not why you came.”
She touched his cheek. “No.”
Eyes closed, he pressed his brow to hers. Everything else could wait. He drew her body against his, breathed in the warm, soft scent of her. Right now, this was all that mattered. He could have one night where he pushed everything to the side…right?
The shower was made of jet black and jade and gold and it was the last place she’d expected to be.
Her head spinning, off-balance from too little sleep, too much emotion and everything else that was going wrong in this bloody town, Jay reached up, rubbing her temple as Linc locked the door behind her.
“Why are we in here?” she asked, feeling a little stupid as he turned toward her and hunkered down at her feet. “We need to talk.”
“Morning.” That was the only thing he said.
“Morning?” Staring at the crown of his head, she tried to process that word.
Linc leaned in and pressed his lips to her thigh. He found one of those rips in her jeans, his mouth unerringly seeking her flesh. “Do you honestly have anything to tell me that is going to change anything that’s going on right now?” he asked, his voice raw. “Because I can’t think of a fucking thing that I can tell you that will change shit.”
Jay blinked, trying to process that question.
Did she have anything…?
Her brain was overloaded. Her senses were strained to the breaking point. Even if he tried to tell her jack and she tried to take it in, she had to have rest before she could do anything more. But they could talk—
His hands pulled her boots away, stroked up her calves. “I didn’t want to hear it,” he muttered, leaning in and pressing his lips to her hip. “I’ve read some of her cases, how she’s closed them and I know, in my gut, that too much time has passed and I didn’t want to hear it. I won’t hear it.” Then he slid up, his hands under her close-fitting shirt, and the shocking feel of his calloused palms on her skin sucked the air right out of her lungs. “I can’t… I just…don’t. If that’s what you are, what you had to tell me…I…fuck, I’m glad that’s not why you’re here.”
Abruptly, he stood up and yanked the shirt off. She blinked, startled. Head spinning, she braced her hands on the counter at her back and gaped at him as he caught his own shirt and
all but tore it away. “Tell me you came for this,” he rasped, bending down and catching her face. “Tell me this matters.”
The words were trapped in her throat, but it didn’t matter because his mouth was on hers, his tongue stealing between her lips.
How could she tell him she’d come for this when she’d never been able to have this?
That the feel of hands skimming around her back and pulling her close, like he’d just done, was completely alien?
And completely delightful.
She whimpered as he pressed his mouth to the curve of her neck as his hand cradled the back of her head. “How do you feel?” he muttered, rubbing his lips across hers. “Should I stop?”
Stop?
If he stopped, she was going to cry.
A man she’d die for, a world she was born to defend… Only one can survive.
Soul Chase
© 2013 Anne Hope
Dark Souls, Book 3
For twenty-five years, Adrian has mourned the loss of his soul mate, Angie. He’s content to live as an outcast…until a series of abductions forces him out of seclusion and into the arms of the very woman he loved and lost. Angie’s reincarnation, Emma.
Emma is on the run, hunted by soulless creatures whose one goal is to possess her soul. They have taken everything: her home, her identity, her mother. Left with no other choice, she must trust her fate to Adrian, the enigmatic stranger who comes to her rescue. An immortal being whose illicit touch makes her blood burn and awakens an inexplicable desire in her heart.
Emma follows Adrian to his isolated community in Arizona, where she is assailed by visions of a past life. As passion ignites and her enemies close in, Emma is drawn into a world where nothing is what it seems and where love could prove the greatest weakness of all.
Warning: Contains a dark, tortured hero, a hunted woman who can’t remember loving him, a nasty villain hell-bent on destroying the world, and a timeless love story you won’t soon forget.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Soul Chase:
“It’s Emma,” she spat through gritted teeth, then surprised him by raising a jackknife to his throat. He could smell the angel’s blood on the blade, and it froze him solid.
Furious Fire: Grimm's Circle, Book 8 Page 22