Cover of Darkness

by Kaylea Cross

  “Christ,” he breathed, fingers clenching in her hair.

  Here was her power, she thought, kissing the swollen tip, licking at him, slow and torturous. He hissed out a breath. When her mouth closed around him and sucked gently, his hips came off the bed and he gave a throttled groan. Yes. This was what she wanted. Control, power. She moved faster, thrilled by the way he gasped and closed his eyes, neck arching.

  So beautiful, and all hers.

  “Stop,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

  No way. Instead she slowed. His eyes speared her, predatory, almost dangerous. She sucked harder on him, her tongue flicking at the tender spot under the taut head.

  “Stop.” The hands in her hair jerked her backward.

  Bryn released him and stared at his heaving chest, into his glowing eyes, burning like banked coals as they seared her. Aroused as hell, and a little angry.

  Dec reached over and grabbed a condom, tearing open the packet and covering himself. Then he reached for her, hauling her up until she straddled his hips, her hair swinging forward around them like a dark curtain. He pushed it back with gentle, unsteady fingers.

  “I want to be inside you,” he said, rising to kiss her as he dragged her down to meet him. She went willingly, pouring everything she had into it, sliding the damp glow between her legs against his throbbing erection. They both moaned.

  Bryn broke the kiss and sat up, holding him to her, maintaining eye contact. He shuddered as she sank down upon him, and she tipped her head back with a sigh as she took him deep inside. His fingers clamped on her hips as she started moving in an undulating rhythm that made him swear and rear up to grab her, his mouth closing over her nipple. Whimpering at the tender suction, she held him fast and picked up speed.

  Almost as if he sensed her backing off from the pleasure, he eased away, hands digging into her hips to hold her still. Panting, they stared at each other in a battle of wills.

  Well, he might be stronger, but he couldn’t prevent her from using her internal muscles. As she clenched around the solid presence filling her, his jaw tightened, eyes flaring.

  Unwilling to stop, she pushed him. Squeeze, release. Squeeze, release, in a relentless, secret massage.

  “Careful,” he warned, voice rough with arousal. “You’re playing with fire.”

  Her abdomen fluttered. If she hadn’t been so turned on, if she hadn’t trusted him so much, the intensity on his face would have scared her. But she wanted him too badly to listen to the whisper of doubt in her head. She’d come this far, and she wasn’t going to give up. The aggressive energy swirling between them only heightened her urgency.

  The anger rose up, bitterness and despair driving her to torment him. “Stop me then, Dec,” she taunted, aware that she was baiting a caged tiger but unable to stop herself. “Go ahead, I dare you.”

  Something flickered in his eyes, then he flipped her beneath him, pinning her hands flat against the mattress with his own. Unease seeped through the haze of her arousal as she lay helpless beneath him. Though she trusted him, something about being held down right now triggered alarm.

  “One sided doesn’t work for me,” he said in a low voice. “I want you with me.” Holding her gaze, he eased his hips back and shifted his weight higher, then thrust forward.

  Lightning sparked deep inside. She gasped and shut her eyes, something hot and soft and vulnerable quaking in her chest. “No.” She tried to ease herself from under him.

  He ignored her, pressed her deeper into the mattress. Through her closed lids, she could feel his gaze burning her face, and turned her head aside.

  This wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted to be on top, to focus everything on him, to make him go crazy. She didn’t want to feel anything but that. The rest was too close to the surface: the vulnerability, the anger, the passion and the tenderness, the grief.

  A knot of swirling emotion clogged her throat, the pressure tearing through her chest until she wanted to scream and claw at him in punishment. Her eyes sprang open.

  But Dec moved again, stroking over a wellspring of sensation inside her, all the while gauging her reaction with those piercing eyes. Her body arched beneath him, stiffening as she resisted. “Dec, no—” Tears stung her eyes. She blinked them away. “Let go. Let go of me!” Her voice broke and she bit down hard on her lower lip.

  Dec bent and kissed each eyelid, then her mouth. When she dared open her eyes, his gaze was understanding, full of a mixture of hunger and tenderness that made her heart quake. This was so much deeper than anything she’d felt before. The enormity of it frightened her. Her body instinctively struggled, like an animal in a trap.

  He held her there firmly, his grip somehow both gentle and commanding while he nibbled at her mouth, her jaw, the vulnerable place where her pulse fluttered beneath her ear.

  As the sharp edge of fear ebbed in the wake of his tenderness, she trembled. He was so deep inside her she could feel every heartbeat as it pulsed through him. When he teased his way into her mouth, the glide of his tongue against hers made her moan, her body quivering even as it rebelled against what he was making her feel.

  “Gently,” he whispered against her lips. “Stop fighting me.”

  She shook her head, growing frantic. “Dec—”

  “You change your mind?”

  She stilled. “N-no.”

  “Then shh.” His hips rocked again, igniting that spark low in her belly. She moaned and contracted her muscles around his length, her fingers squeezing his, then trailing around his back in desperation when he released them.

  He nuzzled her throat. “Yeah, hold onto me…” As he thrust again, he slid one hand between them to touch her swollen clit. She grabbed onto his shoulders and jerked in his arms.

  “Ah…God,” he breathed, his fingers licking over her in a slow caress. A breathless moan escaped her and she bowed up hard. “You’re so beautiful.”

  The pleasure spiraled tighter and tighter under his clever fingers, his cock caressing a place inside—it was almost unbearable. Her hips lifted into him, her nails digging into his shoulders as her body took over.

  So good, she thought with a sob. Nothing had ever felt so good. She couldn’t get enough of him, couldn’t stop. She tightened around him, moaning, straining…almost there…

  “Please,” she whimpered, uncaring that he’d reduced her to begging. He was so strong, yet so gentle with her.

  His rhythm never faltered as he bent his head and murmured against her ear. “Shhh…you’re right there, baby. Take it.” His fingertips continued stroking, the orgasm building and building inside until tears trickled from her closed lids.

  He kissed them away as she fought to keep from sobbing in his arms, hanging on the edge, subconsciously afraid to let go in case she shattered into a thousand pieces.

  “Don’t stop, sweetheart,” he crooned, moving faster. “Let me feel you come. Oh, God…Bryn…”

  She arched up and pulsed around him, crying out his name, screaming inside. It went on and on, an earthquake shaking her as he suddenly pounded into her and flung his head back, a deep groan wrenching out of him as he let go with a shudder.

  Dec sank down on top of her and buried his face in her neck. She locked her arms around him and held on as though he was an anchor in the middle of a hurricane. Her body absorbed his weight, the torrent of volatility draining away in the silence like water down a drain. All too soon, he tried to move away.

  “No,” she protested, holding fast, battling the last of her tears.

  “Shhh.” His arms slid beneath her as he rolled them over. “I just don’t want to crush you.”

  He tugged the covers over her as she lay sprawled across his chest. A languorous peace stole through her as he stroked her hair and neck with his warm hands, his body wrapping her in a cozy cocoon. Hiccupping sobs shook her as he soothed her, exhaustion rolling over her like a wave. As her lids drooped, he shifted, easing out from under her.

  Her head came up, relaxing only wh
en he lifted his hand to her damp face.

  “Better now?”

  She lowered her gaze.

  “Hey, no hiding. Look at me.”

  After a moment, she sniffed and raised her eyes to his.

  “You okay?”

  She closed her eyes with a sigh, chest aching. “I’m sorry I—”

  He tilted her chin with a finger, forcing her eyes open. “Nothing to be sorry for, so don’t apologize. I loved every second of it. I just wish it could have been under different circumstances.”

  Yeah. Her, too. At least he wasn’t shutting her out. A tremulous smile curved her lips, words crowding her throat but she forced them down, struggling to pin down what she felt, afraid of scaring him off, more afraid of not telling him. “Dec, I—”

  He trailed a finger across her collarbone. “You have the most amazing skin. I’ve never felt anything so soft. I could touch you for hours.”

  His words heated her up all over again. She could hardly believe he was staying so intimate with her. She’d been afraid he would retreat into his shell and leave once they’d finished. Earlier in the bathroom, she’d prepared herself for that. But he was still here, treating her like a lover, as if he really cared about her.

  “I love the way you touch me.” He made her feel desirable and feminine. Cherished.

  She reached out to cup his cheek and he stilled, eyes darkening as she pressed her parted lips against his. Even with the hunger building between them the kiss stayed tender and he let her control it, followed every movement and caress of her tongue. She wound her arms around his shoulders and pressed close to him, sighing at how his arms cradled her.

  She’d never felt like this about anyone. Even the best of her boyfriends had bored her within a few months. What would Dec be like in the real world? Would he unwind in front of the TV, watching sports? Or would he hike or go rock climbing? She pictured him with her in Oregon, sprawled on her couch overlooking the rolling ocean, relaxing with a bottle of beer.

  It probably wasn’t healthy to leap into the future like that, even in her fantasies, but the image was so vivid. She’d come in from the beach and kick off her sandy shoes, return his easy smile of greeting and crawl atop him so she could give him a proper hello.

  She had to stop thinking like that. She was setting herself up for heartbreak.

  His cell phone rang. Just like that the spell was broken. She released him. Every awful detail of the air strike came back to her.

  God, those poor children…

  He met her eyes as he responded to the caller. “Yeah.” He listened, his expression unreadable, but a fine tension took hold of his shoulders. “Understood.”

  Out of politeness, she tried not to eavesdrop, and went into the bathroom to dress. A picture of the little bodies buried in the rubble flashed through her mind. Guilt and sadness beat at her. She took several deep breaths, forced the geyser of emotion deep inside where she wouldn’t have to deal with it. She couldn’t face it yet, didn’t want to.

  When she came out of the bathroom, Dec was still sitting on the bed. “Was that Luke?”

  He set his phone down. “Looks like Tehrazzi made it out.”

  Her heart stuttered. “Are they sure?”

  “Yeah. Fahdi’s meeting with a contact tonight to see if he can find out where he’s gone.” His eyes were solemn.

  So those innocent children and whoever else had been in the house had died…for nothing? Her throat spasmed.

  How had Tehrazzi known about the air strike? Unless they’d been mistaken and he wasn’t in the house at all, had maybe been tipped off by someone. Or… She raised horrified eyes to Dec. “Do you think he heard me yelling at the girl? Is that why he—”

  “Don’t go there, Bryn.”

  “But what if he did? What if it’s my fault?” she whispered, voice cracking. She’d failed to save the children and helped Tehrazzi escape.

  “It wasn’t your fault. Don’t ever think that, baby.”

  The endearment made her eyes sting. Knowing he cared and that he wanted to ease her suffering took what was left of her to pieces. She lifted a trembling hand against her mouth.

  Dec’s eyes softened. “Come here.”

  “Can’t. I’ll fall apart…we don’t have time.”

  “We’ve got time,” he replied, advancing toward her, ignoring how she backed away. Before her shoulders bumped into the wall he caught her hand and tugged her back to the bed. “Come lie down with me.”

  “No,” she moaned, fighting the tears. “I don’t want to cry anymore. I’m sick of crying…doesn’t do any good anyway.”

  Those strong arms drew her down to the bed until her head rested in the cradle of his shoulder and her body pressed full length against his. “We’re not going back to Baghdad until morning. It’s just you and me here, Bryn. It’s okay if you let go. I’ll hold you together.”

  The words unlocked her shaking throat so she could breathe again. How did he stay so calm and in control? Was he so used to seeing innocent bystanders die? Or was he holding all that in? She maintained her control, glad to have him wrapped around her. Lying safe in his arms, the last thing she remembered before her eyes closed was his rough whisper against her ear.

  “It’s going to be okay, baby.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Day 12, Iraqi Desert

  Morning

  No one said a word to Tehrazzi as they trudged over the rugged terrain. Most of his traveling companions were young, unseasoned trainees, their faces etched with strain and exhaustion. Their weakness irritated him beyond bearing.

  Only one of his lieutenants had survived yesterday’s air strike, and he was being carried on a litter, his head bound and his back covered with deep burns. He kept slipping in and out of consciousness, which was probably a blessing.

  When he came to, his agonized cries made Tehrazzi’s skin crawl. Every time the breeze picked up, the stench of burned flesh rose, choking him. Several men had stumbled to the side of the trail to be sick.

  Tehrazzi’s ears buzzed as loud as a swarm of flies in his skull. His vision was blurry, and his feet had trouble picking over the rocks, slow and uncoordinated. Sometimes he weaved and had to stop, panting and sweating as he fought to keep from throwing up in the dirt.

  But at least he was alive. For a few minutes after the explosion he hadn’t been sure.

  He glanced back for Ghaliya, being led by a youngster behind him. He hadn’t trusted himself to stay in the saddle, and if he led her himself he feared tangling her feet with his awkward gait, so no matter how much he disliked handing her off, she was safer with someone else.

  A wave of gratitude overcame him. She had saved him. If not for her, he would have been in the house with the others when the missile had hit, instead of in the humble stable he had found to shelter her at the edge of the village. It was a miracle she hadn’t gone mad from the force of the explosion.

  When he’d picked himself up and screamed her name over the ringing in his ears, she’d been standing beside him and bumped him with her muzzle. The relief had sent him to his knees again. Outside, when he’d seen the crater where the house had been, he’d clambered up onto her back and allowed her to gallop off, carrying him to safety.

  Yet he’d sensed someone watching. Tracking him. Hunting him.

  He’d been aware of a prickling at the base of his neck. Acting on instinct, he’d slumped forward over her mane just as the bullet whined past, grazing her shoulder. Ghaliya had whinnied but kept going, and soon they had gained refuge in the foothills and met with his followers.

  Still, the uneasiness would not leave him, a low-grade hum in his gut, despite his attempts to push it out of his consciousness. He feared his suspicion was true—that his teacher had found him at last.

  With determination he put it from his mind and meditated, thanking Allah for His grace and protection. He allowed himself to drift as he placed one foot in front of the other, ignoring the burn in his muscles and the strain on his hear
t and lungs during the climb into the hills. When they reached the Iranian border, they would be safe. For now, they had to find temporary shelter and make contact with their source in Baghdad.

  A shout from behind him made him whip around, and he had to grab his head to stop it spinning. Opening his eyes, he waited until his vision cleared and saw a group of his men gathered around Ghaliya, arguing amongst themselves.

  The mare’s head jerked up at their sharp, careless gesturing, her ears back, eyes wide at their angry voices. Bright blood stained her glossy coat where her flesh wound had reopened on her shoulder. Someone was probing at it in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

  A growl of rage vibrated up his throat. The man closest to him backed away with a fearful expression as he started toward the group.

  Ghaliya pulled on the tether holding her, a neigh of fear splitting the air. Others grabbed it to hold her still and she balked, rear hooves scrambling over the ground.

  “Stop!” he commanded, vision blurring from anger and the concussion.

  As one they turned to him, and as his fury registered, they released Ghaliya’s red halter and leapt back, making her shy up.

  If those imbeciles didn’t stay still, he’d—

  Ghaliya stumbled as her rear hoof slipped on a stone. Tehrazzi’s heart lodged in his throat. The youngster in charge of her lunged forward in an attempt to grab the lead rope, and his magnificent horse rose on her hind legs, pawing at the air with her forelegs. Front hooves slicing through the air, her injured back leg buckled, and she tipped sideways toward the cliff.

  “No!” Paralyzed, he could only stare as his worst fear came true.

  His vision tunneled.

  Ghaliya squealed and tried to right herself, her wide eyes staring straight at him as she toppled over the edge.