Shadow Warrior

by Feehan, Christine

  Grace was silent for a very long time, staring into the fireplace. She leaned up against his chest, her head resting on the heavy muscles there, the silk of her hair sliding over his skin. It was impossible for his cock not to react to her when he was already naked, and she was in leather and lace. Her buttocks were bare and his erection immediately found the crease between her cheeks, nestling there, while his arms surrounded her, hands beneath her breasts.

  “If I had come to you about Haydon, what would happen to him?”

  “Once we had ascertained he was in fact a serial killer and the law couldn’t touch him and we found him, a rider from New York or Los Angeles would ride the shadows to where he was. He would never see the rider, or even know he was there. The rider uses a technique, breaking the neck cleanly, so there is no suffering. That is why it is important not to allow it to be personal if at all possible. You always want the visit to be about justice, not revenge.”

  His heart pounded. This was the moment he could lose her. He was very aware of her stillness. She didn’t move. His hands cupped her breasts and yet he was barely able to feel the rise and fall of that soft weight. He didn’t say a word. Not yet. She needed to think about what he’d said. Weigh it in her mind. Make her decision. If it went against him, if she compared what he was to what Haydon was—and it was very possible—he would attempt to defend himself then.

  He closed his eyes, rested his chin on top of her hair and breathed evenly to keep himself centered. He was asking so much of Grace. Every time he turned around, he was asking just a little more of her, when their relationship was so new. He had no choice, or he would have waited, but she couldn’t marry him and come fully into the family until she accepted what he was. He couldn’t change the fact that he’d been born a rider. Worse, if she accepted him and agreed to marry him, he would still have to tell her that their children would be trained as riders. He wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t want that life for them.

  “If I had known about your family and the possibility of stopping him, I might have been able to save lives.”

  Her voice broke his heart. He tightened his arms around her, although he couldn’t help the surge of relief pouring into him. “Grace, you didn’t know about us and you are in no way responsible for any lives Haydon Phillips took. You did your best to protect those around you, so much so that you sacrificed your own quality of life.” He brushed kisses in her hair and over her temple.

  “I don’t know if it’s wrong or not,” she mused. “Taking justice into one’s hands is considered vigilante work, but . . .” She trailed off. “I honestly don’t know if it’s wrong. Even if the cops suspect Haydon, how do they find proof? He’s so smart and he can be anyone. He plays his roles so well. As for finding him, where would you start? I’ve tried to question him about parts of the city or coffee shops, or just anything to give me an idea of where he might be, but I’ve never even gotten close. He has more than one house he lives in, with more than one family. It’s so creepy and I worry about the children in the homes all the time.”

  “Does he always choose a home with children?”

  “Yes. If there’s a teenage boy, I really worry. Simple things can trigger his anger. Dwayne Mueller, the biological son of the foster parents who were so terrible, used to do terrible things to us. If a boy were to remind Haydon of Dwayne in any way, I know he would retaliate against him. The boy might just simply get in a fight with his sibling as kids do.”

  Vittorio felt the little shiver that ran through her and he nuzzled her neck and shoulder in an effort to comfort her.

  “I wouldn’t be horrified to learn Haydon was dead. I might be horrified to learn that you were the one who killed him.”

  He closed his eyes. “Why is that?”

  “I don’t like the idea of you doing dangerous things, and clearly riding shadows is very hazardous and risky. And you have to live with what you do. Killing other human beings can’t be easy, whether it’s personal or not.”

  He could tell by her tone that she was still puzzling things out in her mind. Trying to decide if what he did was right or wrong. He could tell her there was no answer to that, but she would have to come to that conclusion on her own. At least she wasn’t condemning him out of hand. She hadn’t compared him to Haydon and that was his greatest fear.

  She reached a hand back behind her to hook around his neck. “You scare me a little, Vittorio. You lead a difficult life no one knows about. People think things of you that aren’t true and are rather insulting.”

  “People’s opinions of me don’t faze me. We were raised from a young age to know our lives weren’t entirely our own. We belong to the family. A hundred years ago, our family was nearly wiped out and those left had to be scattered, leave their country in order to survive. We never have all riders in one place openly. We make certain someone will be able to avenge all deaths should some enemy decide to try to wipe us all out again. We are taught that is our duty and we accept the responsibility.”

  She turned her head to look at him over her shoulder. Her face was soft with love. There was admiration and respect in her eyes. His heart clenched hard in his chest and his stomach did a slow roll. His cock jerked hard, aching and dripping with need. Careful of her shoulder, he slipped out from under her, laying her out on the thick rug in front of the fireplace.

  “Stay with me, Grace. Be mine. All in. Everything.” He skimmed his hand from her throat, between her breasts, down her belly to her fiery curls. “I don’t want to be alone anymore and you’re my only. My everything. Tell me yes.”

  He bent his head and took her mouth roughly. He threw gentle to the wind. He didn’t feel gentle. He knew he’d won. He knew. Grace was too compassionate not to give herself to him. She was already in love. She would never abandon him, not when she knew he was alone. Not when she knew his mother and father had been cold and unfeeling. Or that he’d lost a younger much beloved brother. Grace would never have it in her to leave him.

  He tasted triumph in her surrender. Heat rushed through his veins and roared in a fireball in his belly. He took everything she offered and demanded more. She gave him more, her tongue dueling with his, her flames mixing with his until the two were so explosive he feared they might start a fire right there in the sitting room.

  He kissed his way over her chin and then reached for the buckle behind her neck, slowly unfastening it, his gaze drifting possessively over her face. “You’re so beautiful, gattina, you’re a fucking miracle.” He bent to nip her chin with his teeth, his tongue easing the sting when her eyes went wide. “You didn’t answer me.”

  Her tongue moistened her lips, leaving them gleaming in the firelight while he pulled the straps from around her neck.

  “I’m uncertain about what to think, Vittorio.”

  She had her adorable frown on her face, so he kissed it right off just the way he was always tempted to. When he let her up for air, she looked bemused. Slightly dazed. Wholly his. She might not have said it yet, but her complete surrender was there on her face. He pulled her gently into a sitting position and reached around her to unbuckle the corset. Only two buckles held it in place and he didn’t have to look to free them, his fingers deft on the metal. Loosening the leather garment, he tugged until it was gone and then he eased her back down onto the rug.

  “Say you’re going to stay with me, Grace. Give me your word.” He murmured the demand against her right breast and then he was devouring her while his hand worked her left breast. While his mouth was rough, using his teeth and tongue as well as suckling strongly, his fingers were gentle. When his fingers rolled, tugged and pinched her nipple or kneaded her breast, his mouth turned gentle. He changed the rhythm, so she couldn’t get used to the feel of either. Her feet went flat on the floor, knees up, hips bucking wildly.

  “Vittorio.” His name only. A gasp.

  “Say it, bella. Say you belong to me and you always will. Make it a sacred vow so I know you’ll never break it.”

  He kissed
the valley between her breasts, the heavy shadow on his jaw leaving a trail of red as he chafed the sensitive skin. He turned his head, nipping and then laving with his tongue, following the curves around to the undersides of her breasts to add to his marks of possession.

  “I can’t think when you’re doing that.”

  “Doing what?” He kissed his way to her intriguing little belly button, swirling his tongue there, and then claiming every inch of her belly and rib cage. He rubbed his jaw lower, marking her skin, and then used his teeth, small nips that made her slick with need. “You’re not talking to me, and I need to hear actual words.”

  Her breath was coming in ragged pants. His cock was raging. It took only moments to open the laces of her leather thong and drag it off of her, leaving her body completely bare. Vittorio brought his palm once more from her throat to the junction between her legs. “You’re hot as hell, woman. So beautiful like this.”

  Seeing her needy and so hungry for him was erotic beyond anything else. When his cock was in her mouth she had much the same look. Adoration. Love. Hunger. She was sinfully sensual. He moved into her, caught her legs behind her knees and pushed them forward so they were nearly even with her ears, exposing her wholly to him.

  “I wish you could see yourself right now.” He bent his head and swiped his tongue through her wet folds, collecting the nectar he was so addicted to.

  Her body shuddered, and she gasped. He lifted his head. “I haven’t heard what I want to hear.”

  “I can’t think straight. You’re making it difficult.”

  He smiled wickedly at her and bent his head again. A moan escaped her, and he felt the muscles in her belly ripple beneath his spread palm. Smiling, he attacked, sucking, drawing out what he craved and then when she cried out, flattening his tongue and stroking until she was nearly sobbing. He changed tactics and flicked her clit hard with his tongue until she was close to exploding. He pulled back, wiping his face on the insides of her thighs.

  “Vittorio.” She wailed his name.

  “I am listening, mia vida.” He blew on her gleaming curls and then lower still.

  “You know I’m staying.”

  “You may have said so in the past, but there was no vow. I didn’t hear a vow.” He lowered his head and indulged himself all over again.

  He loved the taste of her, but he also loved that she was so sensitive and responsive to him. Within minutes she was gasping out his name, her fingers curling in his hair, begging him. He loved that note of desperation in her voice. He had never played when he was with a woman, but Grace made him feel as if they had all the time in the world to enjoy themselves. She made him feel as if she gave him the freedom to play. To tease her. To enjoy every square inch on her body.

  “I’m loving you, Grace.” He whispered it to her against her belly, unable to contain the truth. The feeling was overwhelming and so huge it spilled out of him until he had no choice but to tell her. “I’ll never stop.”

  She went still, her hips quiet, and her gaze widened to drift over his face. “I never want you to stop, Vittorio. No matter what, I’m staying with you for as long as you want me. We’ll see it through together.”

  He let himself look his fill, drinking her in, and then he couldn’t look anymore because his eyes were burning. He lowered her legs to the floor and rose over her to find her mouth with his, sharing her taste, half expecting her to turn away, but she didn’t. She kissed him, that slow burn he needed from her, igniting a hundred explosions in his belly, all the while conveying absolute love.

  “I want you on your hands and knees, gattina.”

  Her eyes searched his and then she moved, rolling over obediently, her face to the fireplace. He rubbed her buttocks, loving the look and feel of her. His hand settled on the nape of her neck, pushing her head toward the floor very gently.

  “I’m going to take you hard and fast. It will be rough. You have to protect your shoulder, Grace, so lower yourself all the way down and put more weight on your good shoulder.”

  She turned her head to look back at him but lowered her upper body more until she was resting on her elbows, her good shoulder taking most of her weight. He rubbed her bottom again, tracing his finger along the seam of her cheeks and then leaning in to nip with his teeth until she gave a little yelp and pushed back toward his hand.

  He knelt up behind her, his cock heavy in his hand. He wasn’t going to last nearly as long as he would want to. Not with the firelight playing over her body the way it was. Not with her kneeling, presenting herself to him the way she was. He pressed the thick, flared head of his cock into the scorching heat waiting for him. She gasped, and he looked down at her face.

  She was looking at him with her green eyes, those long feathery lashes framing them. There was that look he would never get enough of—the one that told him she definitely belonged to him. Watching her face, he slammed home, driving through her tight folds to bury himself as deep as possible. A streak of fire threatened to engulf his cock in fiery flames as her sheath closed around him, seeking to grasp and hold him tight enough to strangle him.

  The air rushed from his lungs. He heard her sharp little cry, abruptly cut off as she gasped for breath. He caught her hips in his hands and began to move. Hard. Fast. Just like he’d promised her. Deep every time. The scorching heat was almost too much. Her channel was so tight he wasn’t certain if he was feeling pleasure or pain. It didn’t matter, because the combination was perfection. He couldn’t stop. He wanted to live right there, with the fire burning him clean.

  It was too good. He knew it even as he resolved to prolong his time inside her. Every bit of his discipline seemed to fly out the open doors into the night as he slammed into her over and over, riding her hard, never wanting this time to be over. He felt her muscles clamp down and then her sheath was rippling around him.

  “No.” He groaned it, knowing she would take him with her. He was too close. There was no pulling back.

  Her breath whistled out of her and the wave grew larger and stronger, sweeping him up, pouring all around him until her body was a vise. She burned him in a silken fist that refused to let up, only tightened more, so much so that he felt her every heartbeat pounding into his cock. Blood thundered in his ears. Roared through his veins. Roiled in his belly and centered in his groin so that his release started in his toes and swept upward, consuming him. Destroying him. Killing him. He felt every wild jerk of his cock in tune to the rhythmic clamping down of her scorching channel around him. Over and over, hot jets splashed her walls, coating her, triggering heavier shocks.

  The explosion was all-consuming, enveloping the two of them, sending them soaring. He held on to her tightly, his cock shuddering, his body trembling, as hers rippled and pulsed around his. Her cries were a soft counterpoint to his guttural and very harsh gasp of her name. Grace. His woman.

  He had the presence of mind to ease her legs out straight so she was lying flat on her belly as he collapsed over top of her, still pulsing, still buried in her. She took his weight, even though there was no give in the floor beneath the rug. His lungs refused to draw air as her body continued to milk his. Pleasure swamped him. Stayed. His heart beat too loudly. Too fast. Chaos reigned in his brain. His world had narrowed to this one woman, her body and his connected just as their shadows were. Sharing. Riding that wave of pure passion together.

  The night breeze came off the lake, stealing through the open glass door to play over their bodies. Teasing his buttocks and back. Drifting over his head to ruffle his hair.

  She lay very still, her sheath clamped around him. Very slowly, her small muscles began to ease their death grip around his cock. He couldn’t find the strength to move. Each little movement of her body sent ripples through both of them.

  “If you weren’t so heavy, I could sleep here.” Her voice came out muffled and a little breathless.

  “If I was a gentleman, I’d attempt to move, but I’m not. And I can’t.” He used what little air he had left in h
is lungs to separate from her, rolling as he did so, to get his weight off of her. She wasn’t asking, and it wasn’t exactly a complaint—he knew Grace would have let him lie on top of her until she really couldn’t take a breath.

  He rolled over onto his back beside her, looking up at the ceiling. “You’re a fucking miracle, gattina.” He couldn’t tell her that enough. It was the truth.

  “That was both of us, so I would have to say you’re the miracle. I don’t know what I’m doing, remember?” She rolled over onto her back and lay close to him, their thighs touching. Her red hair looked like gleaming silk in the firelight. Her body was covered in a fine sheen, and every breath she drew was a temptation to sin.

  He threw one arm over his eyes. It was dark, the only light came from the flames of the fireplace dancing over them and the moon reflecting off the surface of the lake.

  “That isn’t what I meant, Grace.” He forced himself to roll to his side and prop his head up in one hand. “You said you’d stay with me even after I told you what my family does.”

  Her gaze flicked to the side, meeting his eyes, but she didn’t turn her head. “I do love you. I think you knew that before you told me. You didn’t have to. You could have kept it a secret. It’s not like too many people would believe you could travel through shadows. I’m still not clear on how.”

  “I had no choice.” He couldn’t help but touch her. He laid his palm on her stomach, right over her belly button where he hoped their child would be nestled someday. “There are consequences if our shadows tangle together too much. We spent quite a lot of time together and I didn’t hold back my feelings at all. I didn’t even try.” He made the confession in a little rush.

  “What consequences?”

  “If we ripped apart our shadows, I would be unable to be a rider. I was born a rider and I trained all my life, it’s who I am; it would be the worst thing that could happen to me other than losing you. You wouldn’t remember we were in a relationship. You would have thought we were together in order for me to help you because you were shot in the parking lot of our nightclub.”