Powerful Moves [L.U.S.T.] (Siren Publishing Classic) (23 page)

He covered her bare pussy with his hand, pushing his palm against her stinging clit and sliding two fingers inside her opening. “So wet.” He spoke against the side of her neck as his fingers wiggled in tortuously slow circles. “So tight. I can feel your muscles closing around my fingers, trying to draw them deeper.”

“Tavius.” Another sob came on the tail of his name. “What are you doing to me?”

“Exactly what I told you I would. What is it you want me to do to you?” He withdrew his fingers. She would’ve slapped him at that moment if her hands hadn’t been bound by his. The intense absence of his touch inside her was that acute. Then those fingers closed on her clit, rolling the throbbing bud and tenderly pinching until she writhed and begged again.

“Tavius! Oh, Gods. Damn it, you know what I want.” He flicked her clit with the tip of one finger, sending electric zings of pleasured pain shooting through her. She felt the mother of all orgasms building and struggled to hold it off. “Don’t make me come until you’re inside me.”

“Is that what you’re waiting for?” The amusement outlining the heat in his tone only intensified her desire to slap him.

“When you finally let go of my hands, Tavius Zolan, you better run.” She squirmed, tried to pull her hands free, and even lifted her head in an attempt to dislodge the shirt he’d situated over her eyes. She wouldn’t kick him for fear of damaging the part of him her body craved most. She could head butt him. As long as she aimed for the forehead, she likely wouldn’t do anything more than jar a thought or two loose in his stubborn brain.

“I would be perfectly content to stay just like this forever.”

Elena went still, the fight leaving her just that quickly. She wanted to ask if he meant that. She wanted to ask if he thought there was any hope in any realm that they could make this thing between them continue beyond Le Mort and The Whisperer’s capture.

“Make love to me, Tavius,” she said weakly, her throat tight with emotions and sobs she refused to release. “I want to feel your cock inside me. I want my muscles closing around your shaft, drawing your dick deeper.” She purposely altered his earlier statement to suit and felt a light of happiness when she heard his breath shudder out of him.

“That’s what I wanted to hear, muirnin.” In a move of practiced ease and turtle-like skill, he shifted his body and then, glory be to Summerland, he inched his cock inside her weeping pussy.

As with his exploration of her outer body, he took his time with her inner flesh as well. His hand holding her wrists trembled. His other arm, braced at the side of her head, shook. His body felt as rigid as the spectacular cock moving inside her as he buried his dick in her, one minute fraction at a time. It was as if he were memorizing the feel of her channel, learning every crease of her inner flesh, absorbing every drop of her seeping wetness.

It was maddening. It was fantastic. It felt unlike anything she had ever experienced. Always before she’d wanted sex hard and fast, a frenzy of hands and mouths and thrusts until release was found. She couldn’t achieve a good orgasm otherwise.

Tavius proved her past experiences wrong. She felt the pressure build with each slow glide in, each deliberate pull back. Power, strong and full of passion, made her dizzy. Her breaths quickened, but the oxygen in the room seemed depleted.

“Muirnin.” Tavius sounded as though he might lose it at any second. “Elena.” His whole body gave a violent jerk as if holding himself back brought a whip of torture slashing down his naked flesh.

“Go with me, Tavius.” Blindly, Elena lifted her head off the floor, turning toward the sound of his voice and connecting with what felt like his lips. Yes, definitely his lips. She’d memorized that mouth, the shape of his lips, the scent of his breath, the feel of his tongue. “Come with me.”

She didn’t need to ask for more. He buried his cock to the hilt in her throbbing channel on the next inward creeping thrust, pushing the button on the erogenous zone deep within, and she detonated. Her body spasmed uncontrollably, her mind thrashing as violently as her head, while inside her the wondrous heat of Tavius’s seed joined hers. Almost absently, she heard him growl then felt the full weight of him as he collapsed on top of her.

“This isn’t over.”

The fact he could speak at all boggled her mind. The declaration in what he said boggled her soul. Still not certain what he really meant, what he expected from here, still not certain if anything could ever be, Elena went for light once more.

“Of course it isn’t.” She turned her head into his cheek and licked her way to his ear where she whispered, “Next time, I’m on top.”

The LUST agency employed a motley assortment of agents Tavius figured would draw second glances anywhere. Then again, he mused as the tiny cabin begin to fill with bodies, with this kind of mismatched culture club, the agency could pick and choose the right person to fit in with any crowd.

“Are we even sure Le Mort is in Alaska?” Elena didn’t wait for everyone to settle but jumped in with both feet.

Gods, he loved that about her. Tavius didn’t let the emotion show any more than he did the smile that wanted to come when he realized she’d somehow managed to get her T-shirt tucked beneath the strap of her bra.

“Has anyone gotten a read on him?” Elena stood in the center of the cabin floor appearing for the entire world as the woman in complete control.

Because she is
. Tavius didn’t know if he’d ever met another woman who controlled herself, the people around her, the situation, with as much wit and talent as Elena Cabot. He had noticed that about her almost from the start. He realized it even more when he understood the full breadth of her powers here in this very room.

“He’s been sighted here.” The confirmation came from a wizard who introduced himself as Crosby Donavan when he first shimmered into the room. His obvious ability to teleport was about all Tavius knew of him so far. “Not far from this particular cabin. You chose your hideout well.”

“I chose the first warm, dry place I could see.” Elena turned to Remy Elliot, a man Tavius now knew to be as much a mentor and teacher to her as Michael and Gideon had been.

The former United States Army Ranger turned FBI turned LUST agent managed to look solemn despite the vibes of adrenaline Tavius sensed running through the man’s system.

“What about Douglas, The Whisperer, my father?”

“He’s here.” Elliot puffed out his cheeks as he pushed a hard breath from his lungs. “Bastard has been here for quite some time. I don’t know why we didn’t catch it. It’s brilliant.”

Elena raked a hand through her already-mussed hair. “Do I want to know how brilliant?”

Elliot lifted a wide shoulder covered in scars displayed by the camouflage muscle shirt he wore. “He set up HQ here because it’s a centralized locale to ferry in tangos from Turkey and Russia, among other nearby countries. His entire organization is operating with foreign boys these days. No US boys from the intel we’ve gathered so far.”

“But why? What’s he up to, and why go to such extremes to get weapons like the ones he’s getting from Le Mort?”

“The pipeline, doll face.” Elliot stated it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Cabot is planning to take over the lower forty-eight’s oil supply out of Alaska. With the weapons Le Mort has brought him from the other realm, he’ll have a hell of a start at controlling it all in a matter of days, hell, probably minutes, and then every tango outfit on the planet will be looking to him for leadership.”

“Not if Le Mort has his way.” Tavius drew the attention of everyone in the room with his statement. Good, he wanted their attention. These agents might be smart, powerful, alert, but they didn’t know Regulus Le Mort or the plans he’d stolen as well as he did. “Le Mort has spent centuries on Terra, in Atnalta, and it’s my guess he’s used most of that time to prepare for this. The weapon plans he stole hold the capabilities of building the deadliest, most untraceable weapons your realm has ever seen.”

“So we’ve been briefed.” The blandness from the one introduced as Tong came in a direct contrast to her appearance. Straight black hair tipped in neon pink fell around a face of Asian descent marred by pierced eyebrows, nose, and upper lip. A tiny star twinkled at the corner of her right eye. Though Tavius didn’t dare get close enough to tell for sure, he’d decided it must be a tattoo. She was one hundred and twenty pounds of pure attitude and insurmountable power. Tavius liked her in an instant. “You’re thinking Le Mort has plans of taking over the oil supply himself?”

“I’m thinking Le Mort has plans to take over Cabot’s organization,” Tavius corrected Tong.

“Le Mort is stringing Douglas along,” Elena said, picking up the thread. She fixed her gaze on Tavius, understanding dawning in her beautiful eyes.

Gods, he wished they were alone again. In that moment, he wanted everyone in the room to disappear. He wanted Le Mort and The Whisperer to vanish into thin air. He wanted nothing and no one around but himself and Elena. Elena staring at him with those amazing eyes as she absorbed the power of his love into herself only to use it on him as she made love to his soul through the crevice of his mouth. Did she know those were the energies she’d taken from when she exhibited her power in the most arousing and soul-stealing way imaginable?

“He needs The Whisperer to build the weapons because access to the supplies is faster, easier than searching for it on his own. Le Mort’s plan is to use The Whisperer until he gets what he wants then dispose of him and take over the organization for himself.”

“Even to a centuries-old vampire, apparently the tried-and-true methods still seem the most successful and foolproof,” Duncan muttered. “Damn, but I do believe the two of you are right.”

“Le Mort got sidetracked by the necklace,” Tavius reminded them.

“Even more so now that he knows Michael is still alive.” Elena shivered visibly and then scowled when she realized he’d noticed. “He’ll go after that fourth piece. He’ll go after Michael.”

“Then his plan has turned twofold.” Tavius closed the short distance between himself and Elena, nonchalantly sliding a hand over her shoulder to smooth her T-shirt from beneath her bra strap while offering her a comfort he knew his words wouldn’t provide. “He’ll use The Whisperer to build the weapons then turn them on Michael to get the fourth piece.”

“My father isn’t stupid enough to fall for that sort of trap,” Elena told him with utter conviction. “Not The Whisperer or Michael.”

“I hope you’re right, muirnin.” Tavius hooked an arm around her waist and drew her in against him, brushing his lips over the top of her head. “But it’ll be a hell of a lot easier for all of us if we stop Le Mort before we have to find out.”

* * * *

For all the sugary sweetness and tender caresses, Tavius Zolan could play the egotistical alpha cave man with the rest of them.

Elena fumed as she stomped the snow around the cabin, her feet sinking to her shins with each step. He had his nerve of him. Not just Tavius.
They
had their nerve thinking they could leave her behind while they went looking for Le Mort and The Whisperer. Who the hell did they think they were? After everything she witnessed these last few days, all she learned and understood, and they wanted to cut her out.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Elena whirled at the softly asked question, knowing if she possessed the power to fire darts out of her eyes, Tavius would be on the ground bleeding. The idea shouldn’t have held so much appeal, and because it did she knew she was supremely pissed.

She crossed her arms and threw back her head. Staring at the sky in hopes that patience would fall from the clouds? Not likely.

“Guess not.” Tavius huffed an audible breath. “You know why Elliot wants you to stay here.”

Elena blinked and thrust her chin higher. Yeah, she knew. That didn’t smooth her ruffled feathers one iota either. How many fathers did a grown woman need, for crying out loud? How many protectors did a woman with the talents she possessed, a woman with her training to use those skills and others, need, for pity’s sake?

“You’re too close to this.” She heard more than saw Tavius take a step closer, but she didn’t look at him nor did she say a word. “It’s your father we’re looking to neutralize, muirnin.”

“It’s my father we’re looking to protect.” She pinned him with a glare that left no room for argument. “Michael Delacroix is my father. His twin brother Gideon Delacroix is my father. Douglas Cabot left me for dead when I was a baby, on the doorstep of a vampire and a werewolf, with the full intent that the beasts would kill me. Instead, they took me in and raised me as their own.”

“Geezus, Elena.”

She flinched when Tavius touched her. She couldn’t hold his gaze, hated the sympathy and compassion she saw in his electric eyes. She went back to looking at the sky.

“I can’t tell you how many nights Michael and I spent lying on the ground staring up at the sky when I was a child.” She didn’t know why she said the thought aloud. A part of her simply needed Tavius to know. She needed him to understand the man who gave her creation was not, nor had he ever been, her father. “He and Gideon would argue that I should be in bed early because of school and things like that. They wanted me to have a normal life despite the powers they already knew I had.”