Angels' Blood (42 page)

“I don’t need a mate,” she muttered, staring up at the bright circle of the late autumn moon. “But can’t you send me a nice, sexy,
strong
male to dance with? Pretty please?” She hadn’t had a lover for close to eight months now and it was starting to hurt on every level. “He doesn’t even have to be smart, just good between the sheets.” Good enough to unsnap the tension in her body, allow her to function again.

Because sex wasn’t simply about pleasure for a cat like her—it was about affection, about trust, about everything good. “Though right this second, I’d take plain old hot sex.”

That was when Riley walked out of the shadows. “Got an itch, kitty?”

Snapping to her feet, she narrowed her eyes, knowing he had to have deliberately stayed downwind in order to sneak up on her. “Spying?”

“When you’re talking loud enough to wake the dead?”

She swore she could feel steam coming out her ears. Everyone thought Riley was quiet, practical, grounded. Only she knew he had a mean streak that delighted in annoying her as much as possible. “What do you want?” It was a growl from the heart of the leopard and woman both.

“I was invited to Dorian’s mating ceremony.” A slow smile that taunted her to retaliate. “Pretty hard to miss you burning up the place. And I’m not talking about your hair.” His eyes lingered on the long red strands stroking over her breasts.

Mercy didn’t get embarrassed easily, but her cheeks flamed now. Because if Riley knew she was in heat—like a freaking wild cat—then so did the rest of her own pack. “So what, you followed me hoping I’d lower my standards and sleep with a
wolf
?” She intentionally made “wolf” sound about as appetizing as “reptile.”

Riley’s jaw tightened under a shadow of stubble just a shade darker than the deep chestnut of his hair. “You want to claw at me, kitty-cat? Come on.”

Her hands clenched. She really wasn’t this much of a bitch. But goddamn Riley had a way of lighting her fuse. “Sorry, I don’t beat defenseless puppies.”

He laughed. He actually laughed. She hissed at him. “What’s so funny?”

“We both know who’s the dominant here . . . and you’re not it.”

That did it. She was a
sentinel
. So what if he’d been a lieutenant longer? That didn’t change the fact that she occupied the same place in DarkRiver that he did in SnowDancer. The wolf had crossed a very defined line—and since she couldn’t have sex, she’d settle for violence.

Feeling more than a little feral, she pounced.

Riley was ready for her. He took her kick on the thigh without flinching, but stopped her punch with a single hand. She was already shifting, sliding into the next position, ready to take advantage of any vulnerability. He blocked every one of her moves, but made none of his own. “Fight!” she yelled. She needed a good, sweaty workout—it would take some of the edge off the gut-wrenching fury of her need. Her booted foot connected with his ribs.

She heard a grunt and grinned. “Not so fast are we, wolfie?”

“I was trying,” he said, blocking her next set of blows with his arms, “not to hurt you.”

“I’m not a frickin’ princess,” she muttered, aiming for the most vulnerable part of a man’s body—yeah, yeah it wasn’t fair. But Riley had asked for it. Oh, man had he asked for it. “ ‘Kitty’ this, wolfman.”

“Damn it, Mercy!” He grabbed the foot that had been about to connect with his crotch and flipped her. Effortlessly. Gasping as she realized exactly how much he’d been holding back, she twisted in midair and came to an easy landing on her feet.

“I’ll give you one thing,” he said, crouching opposite her as they circled each other. “You know how to move . . . kitty.”

Adrenaline shot through her, a hot, liquid fire. “Better than a jumped-up sheepdog anyway.” She kept her tone even, but she was sweating under the slinky black tee she’d changed into for the dancing, her heart beating at a rapid pace. “Claws out,” she said, and that was the only warning she gave as she went for him.

She didn’t even see it coming. One moment she was about to slash his face—okay, so she would’ve only scratched him, it wasn’t like this was a fight to the death—and the next, she was flat on her back with her wrists slammed to the earth, gripped in one strong fist. “Ooomph.” All the air rushed out of her as Riley’s lower body crushed hers to the ground. The bastard was heavy, pure muscle over solid bone.

“Yield.” His nose was almost touching hers.

“You wish.” She smirked into chocolate-dark eyes. “Come closer.”

“So you can bite me?” A flash of teeth. “First you yield. Then I’ll come closer.”

“Not on your life.” If she yielded, she’d be acknowledging his dominance, at least for tonight.

“Then I guess I’ll have to make you.”

“Try it.” Smiling, she went for his throat and almost had him, when—using a move that was all sorts of illegal—he flipped her again so her front pressed into the leaf-laden ground, her wrists still locked in his iron grip and pinned above her head. “Cheater.”

“So says the woman who tried to kick my balls into my throat,” he pointed out, even as he licked the salt off the skin of her neck in a lazy and highly provocative move.

“I’m going to kill you.” It was more hiss than sound.

He bit her.

In the soft, sensitive place between neck and shoulder.

She felt her entire body shiver from the inside out at the blatant show of dominance. “Stop it.” It came out husky, nothing like the rejection she wanted it to be.

He took his mouth from her. “I’ve pinned you.”

“That’s wolf shit. I’m a cat.”

“You’re still trapped under me.” He nuzzled at her throat. “And you smell all hot and wet and ready.” His voice was dropping, going wolf on her.

And the heat between her thighs was turning into a pulsing drumbeat. Her stomach twisted in a vicious wave of need. God, she was hungry, so sensually hungry. And Riley had taken her, his hold unbreakable. At that moment, the leopard didn’t care that he wasn’t a cat. It just cared that he was strong, sexy, and aroused.

She found herself raising herself against him without realizing it, her bottom rubbing, enticing, inviting. “You tell anyone, I’ll carve out your heart.”

“Talking’s not what I’m interested in right now.” Releasing her hands, he let her twist onto her back . . . only to push apart her thighs and settle his erection snugly against her. It was all she could do not to moan out loud.

He raised himself up on his arms, looking down with eyes gone wolf—the black pupils circled by a ring of amber that echoed through the rich brown of the irises to turn his gaze nightglow. “How rough?” His sexuality was a primal force crashing against her skin.

“Hard.” She wanted to be marked up, used until she was wrung out and comatose from pleasure. And she wanted to do the same to him. Pulling down his head with a hand fisted in that thick, silky hair she wanted to feel against her breasts, she kissed him, snarling in the back of her throat. He gripped that throat with one hand, squeezing lightly. “Behave.”

She bit him this time.

A full growl poured into her mouth as stick-in-the-mud Riley Kincaid gave in to his wolf and showed her exactly why he was SnowDancer’s most senior lieutenant. Her tee was in shreds before she could blink, her bra gone the instant after that. His hand squeezed the rounded curves of her bared flesh and when he tore his lips from hers to move down, she knew she was going to feel teeth.

What she didn’t know was that Riley would suck on her nipple like it was his favorite treat . . . before he sank those strong teeth into her delicate flesh. Her back arched up off the forest floor and she gripped the slick heat of his shoulders. Where had his own shirt gone? She didn’t care. All she knew was that she had gorgeous male flesh under her hands and, oh, it felt good.

She tugged up his head from her breast, ignoring his growl and bit at his lip again. For a wolf, Riley had a beautiful mouth. She’d been wanting to take a nip out of it for weeks. So she did. Then she slid her lips along his jaw and over the cords of his neck. Salt and man and wolf.

Wolf. Enemy
.

Her cat snarled again.

But the snarl was buried in pure heat. He tasted good.

When he wound his hand in her waist-length hair and dragged her head back for another kiss, she didn’t protest. It was as wild as the first, wet and deep and coated with the promise of raw sexual pleasure, no holds barred. “Now,” she ordered as they broke apart, her body close to vibrating with ever-tightening need.

“No.” He slid down her body and suddenly her nice dress pants and panties were gone. She felt the kiss of claws against the insides of her thighs and knew it had been on purpose. No pain, not even a real touch. Just a hint.

Just enough to remind her cat that he could take her.

More than enough to shove her arousal into the stratosphere.

“Goddamn wolf.” A choked out imprecation.

Spreading her thighs with strong, callused hands, he put his mouth on her. She screamed. Riley was apparently in no mood to go slow and easy. He licked at her in hard, firm strokes, sucked then nipped. The orgasm tore through her so ferociously that she knew her muscles would protest tomorrow.

He continued using that mouth, those teeth, on her until she could feel her body tightening again after a ridiculously short interval. But she wanted more than another burst of pleasure. Grabbing his shoulders, she pulled him up, knowing she wouldn’t have been able to do it if he hadn’t cooperated. It would’ve been annoying . . . in any other situation. “Do it, wolf.”

A hand in her hair, wrenching back her head. “What’s my name?”

She scratched trails down his back. He didn’t even wince. “My name, kitty. Say my name.”

“Mr. Mud Stick, Muddie for short,” she said, even as she rubbed herself against the hard thrust of his denim-covered erection, the roughness of the fabric an exquisite sensation. She would’ve liked naked skin even more, but he wasn’t budging.

“Say it, or no cock for you today.”

Her mouth fell open. “Fuck you.”

“You’ll be doing that shortly.” He kissed her again, a tangling of tongue and teeth and sheer male power. “Now”—he thrust against her, letting her feel the heavy, dark heat that she could have—“what’s my fucking name?”

It was tempting to continue to snarl at him, but her skin was slick with sweat and he was big and heavy and delicious over her. And she wanted him in her.
Now
. “Men and their egos,” she muttered, just to piss him off a little. “Now do it, Riley. Or I’ll find someone else.”

He held her head where it was for another long second before lowering his face to hers, those amber eyes telling her exactly who was in charge inside him at that moment. “What did you say?” Quiet, quiet words.

She clawed his back again. This time, the wolf growled at her and the next few minutes passed in a fury of torn clothing and ravaging kisses, cries of pleasure intermingled with moans. And suddenly he was naked above her. Strong, hot, beautiful. She rose up against him, feeling her eyes go leopard as he put one hand on her thigh to hold her down and nudged at her with the aroused length of him.

She went to reach down, but he growled at her. Normally she’d have growled back, but the man was making her feel so damn good. So she wrapped her other leg around him and thrust her hands into his hair, rocking her body upward. “I want you in me.”

He began to push in. She sucked in a breath. The man was hard as rock and thick enough to make her muscles stretch to the edge of pain. She shuddered. “More.”

He took her at her word, thrusting into her with a slow, intensely erotic focus that had her inner muscles starting to spasm in ecstasy even before he was fully inside. Then he was and she’d never felt so taken in her life. But he only gave her a minute to get used to him before his lips took hers once again, even as his body slammed in and out of her with a power her leopard gloried in—wolf or not, this man was worth dancing with.

She moved with him, kissing him back, running her hands over his body and nipping at him just because. He kept her pinned to the earth as he took her, as if he knew exactly how damn much she needed a good, hard ride. When she orgasmed, it was with a sharp cry, a lush clenching around the thick heat of him and a burst of starlight behind her eyes.

Lights that continued to flicker even after she came back down to earth. Riley was still hot and aroused in her, moving with unapologetically powerful thrusts that pushed her to another peak in moments. She bit his neck in the wolf way this time, and it finally pushed him over the edge with her.

She threw the knife with deadly accuracy. Raphael caught it in midair—by the blade. His blood flowed crimson, bright against the gilded perfection of his skin. “Was it not you who bled the last time?” he asked conversationally as he dropped the blade to the formerly pristine white carpet and tightened his hand into a fist. The blood flow halted within a single second.

“You made me close my hand over a blade.” Her heart was still racing from witnessing the sheer speed of him. Dear God. And she’d taken this man to her bed. Craved him even now.

“Hmm.” He rose to his feet, walked to her.

At that moment, though he’d said he’d never hurt her, she wasn’t so sure. Her fingers clenched under the sheet as he came to sit in front of her, one of his wings lying over her legs. It was a warm, surprisingly heavy weight. Angel wings weren’t for show—as she was beginning to learn—they were pure muscle and tendon over bone, and like any other muscle, they had to be strengthened prior to use. Before, she’d only had to worry about tripping if she overtired herself. Now, she had to worry about falling out of the sky.

But that wasn’t the danger that danced in front of her eyes right then.