Blood Shadows (18 page)

She thought she’d break when his fingers adeptly unfastened the first three buttons on her dress, but she found herself unwilling to move. And as the loosened fabric allowed him to lower the sleeve of her dress, he slid down her bra strap so her shoulder was completely bare. She could only focus on steadying her breathing as she relished in the sensuality of his thumb massaging into the knots in her shoulder, her fingertips tingling with the need to touch him, but still she refused to give him the satisfaction of moving.

Kane slid his hand across her collarbone, but instead of retracting again, he reached all the way across to her upper arm. Water splashed around him as he eased onto his knees behind her. Shoulders inches from hers, the temporary heat from his wet chest radiated through the cotton of her dress. ‘That much tension is bad for you,’ he said.

‘So are your fangs being that close to my neck.’

‘They’re incisors. Fangs are so feral.’

‘And you’re not?’

‘I have my moments. But don’t worry, I’m not going to bite you,’ he said, his tone betraying his smile. ‘Not without your consent.’

‘How very chivalrous of you.’

He brushed her hair aside again, but this time to expose the right side of her neck. ‘Curb the sarcasm,’ he said, his thumb caressing the exposed pulse pumping beneath her skin. ‘Or I might be tempted to change my mind.’

His soft, sensuous kiss at the nape of her neck stunned her. She shuddered and gripped the carpeted step. But she still wasn’t going to move. This time she’d see just how far he was willing to go. Just what the infamous Kane Malloy would do next.

Still holding her upper arm, simultaneously trapping the other, he kept her against him, the dampness of his arm sinking through her dress. The move had been so carefully orchestrated that she could almost admire him for it. And as he slid his other hand up her throat, his fingers encompassing it with ease, she thought of how easily he could snap her neck. Instead he tilted her head to the side to expose her neck more.

Her heart thudded painfully, the rush of warmth between her legs disconcerting her. She knew she couldn’t move now even if she wanted to, even with his possible instability from being knelt in the bath still.

But she didn’t want to move. That was the simple fact. She didn’t want to go anywhere. The secure grip of his arm wrapped around her and the hardness of his chest against her back was shockingly reassuring, not terrifying as she would have expected.

‘Tell me,’ he said, leaning enticingly close to her ear. ‘What are you most scared of, Caitlin? What I can do to you or how I make you feel?’

Hell, she wished he’d stop using her name. Every time he said it, goosebumps swept over her skin, the word like a melody from his subtle rasp. She swallowed against her arid throat as he released her neck to slide his hand further down her body.

‘You don’t make me feel anything,’ she lied.

She felt his smile as he kissed her ear. ‘No?’ he asked, slowly bunching up her dress.

She breathed heavily as his cool hand touched the warm, now-exposed flesh of her inner thigh, steadily sliding up to find the intimate heat between her legs.

Caitlin flinched, her hands clenching. She slammed her thighs together, locking his hand in place.

‘Felt that, didn’t you?’ he said, kissing her gently on the neck, his teeth grazing her sensitive flesh through his smile. He tightened his arm around her, clenched his hand into a fist and twisted to encourage her thighs apart.

He slid his fingers gently down to the crotch of her knickers, the teasing pressure and insistence almost unbearable. He kissed behind her ear, distracting her enough to part her legs a little more, allowing him more freedom as he slid his fingers gently back and forth, his thumb working dangerously close to her clitoris. She tensed, stunned at what she was allowing him to do, her own dampness, her sex swelling and throbbing in response to his expert touch. And he clearly sensed it, his fingers adding more pressure. She suppressed her gasp and closed her eyes, relishing in the sensation as tendrils of arousal squeezed her body.

He teased the crotch of her knickers aside, his cool fingers meeting her most intimate flesh. A bolt of shock soared through her as his middle finger slid through the folds a little way into her sex, his thumb expertly finding and applying pressure against her clitoris. She finally gasped and wrenched her left hand free, slamming it down over his, her nails on her trapped hand digging into the step.

But as Kane persisted, Caitlin bit into her bottom lip to prevent herself from crying out. And as his middle finger delved deeper into her wetness, she could do nothing to curb the heaviness of her breaths, her grip tightening on his hand as he pushed deeper.

But as his thumb sent another bolt of electricity through her, it was all too much.

She forced his hand away, stumbled away from his loosened grip and marched out of the bathroom.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

C
aitlin paced the room, her legs shaking, hands to her mouth. She hated the way she trembled, her sex throbbing and aching for him, the bolt of arousal that had knocked her off guard still forefront in her mind.

His touch, though firm, had been gentle and controlled, and not urgent like she’d expected. The thought of his fingers running sensually over her skin and the expert ease with which he found her most sensitive core made her shudder. No fumbling. No misdirection. He knew exactly what he was doing and there was something dangerously appealing in that. Something that was equally as terrifying.

Her resistance wasn’t going to last three days. Not trapped in there with him. The whole plan had been crazy. She needed out. Just a few hours and she was already questioning her convictions.

It unnerved her how much she wanted him. And she knew it was wrong because it was nothing about feelings. It was sexual – pure and simple. The way she’d reacted to his touch in the corridor and in the interrogation room had only confirmed it - he had electrified her. And the fact he saw it, and felt it, and wasted no time in responding to it was too much of a turn-on to bear. She wanted him to be brutal, clumsy, crude even, because then she could resist him, but he was none of those. Instead, his self-control and self-assurance were dangerously thrilling.

This wasn’t going to work. The realisation hit her hard and fast. She was no competition for him. The tension wracked through her, and she berated herself again for running out on him like some nervous teenager, not a twenty-nine-year-old woman. But one touch of his fingers had told her she wouldn’t stand a chance if she gave in to him.

She reminded herself he was just a vampire, albeit a master, but still a vampire. It was her area of expertise. She’d seen inside enough of them, hunted enough of them over the years not to have the excuse of fear or apprehension. The only thing clouding her judgement was her insane attraction to him and she had to get a grip on it quick.

Hearing him step out of the water, she took a few steadying breaths. Just the thought of those insistent fingers made the blood rush back to her most intimate area. She backed away from the door and braced herself.

He stepped into the doorway looking like some honed centurion wrapped only in his dark-grey towel, his erection pressing against it. He leaned against the doorframe, his folded arms emphasising their strength – confirmation again that if he wanted to overpower her, even with her training, it would be effortless.

‘You’re trembling,’ he said, his eyes glinting with amusement.

‘I’m fine,’ she said, clenching and unclenching her hands before she realised she was doing it. She concealed them behind her back.

‘You didn’t have to run out on me. You just had to ask me to stop.’

‘And you would have?’

He advanced steadily towards her. ‘If I thought you meant it.’

She didn’t dare break from that gaze as she backed up in sync with each sure-footed casual step he made towards her. ‘And you’d know that would you? You’d be willing to take the risk?’ Her heel hit the skirting board, making her flinch.

His eyes twinkled with mischief as he drew level, his proximity igniting a spark in her again. ‘Is that a challenge?’

Her nails scraped against the wall at the small of her back. ‘No.’

He placed one hand beside her head, his other loose and low on his hip. ‘You’re not used to being hit on, are you?’

‘Is that what it was?’

He smiled fleetingly, offering her a flash of incisors. He leaned closer. ‘You might be able to play these kinds of games with the wholesome, naive boys you date in coffee shops, Caitlin, but I’m not like that. But then you wouldn’t be so turned on if I was, would you?’ His lips almost touched her ear. ‘I’m already inside your head. And your body’s most definitely next.’

Her stomach flipped. He was expecting her to crumble, but her defences kicked in. She wouldn’t be seen as the weak adversary. He needed to know that it was him who needed to tread carefully – not her. She was not going to be intimidated by his mind games. She was not going to back down. The defiant streak in her ratcheted her adrenaline up a few notches. His arrogance struck every nerve ending, but more than that, the dark and dangerous promise he had uttered compelled her to challenge him. That aura he held around himself was not beyond breaching.

‘You think you’ve got your fingers on all my buttons, don’t you, Kane? But you don’t know me. I’m not porcelain – I don’t crack easily. It’s taken me years to prove that to the VCU, so three days with you will be nothing. You might think you’re in control, but you’re not. The only control you have over me is hurting me or killing me, neither of which you can risk if you’re to get what you need. Because despite what you say, I know you need me to fall for you or you wouldn’t be taking your time. You need me, Kane. Maybe even more than I need you.’

His eyes narrowed slightly, but she couldn’t tell if it was amusement or annoyance. ‘Is that right?’

‘For all I know, you might have lied when you said you could kill whatever it is that’s coming for me. Maybe that’s why you need to get to me before it does. Maybe you’re not capable of protecting me, just like you weren’t capable of protecting Arana. Where were you when your little sister needed her powerful, master-vampire brother, huh? Where were you when she was being tortured and abused and slaughtered? That’s right – fulfilling your baser needs, like you always are.’

The moment she said it, she regretted it.

The playful and mischievous look in his eyes was replaced with sudden anger. His glower unnerved her more than if he’d yelled at her. The fury simmered behind his eyes with an intensity that terrified her. And it terrified her because beyond the fury was pain. Pain that she had inflicted. Pain that had cut somewhere deeper than she’d intended with her stupid remarks.

His eyes darkened, but within them she saw something she thought him incapable of, that every report said he was incapable of: she saw guilt and, amidst it, the tiniest glimmer of vulnerability.

She could see he hated her for evoking it. Worse, she hated herself for mocking him. Kane, who had found Arana’s torn and ravished body.

It was unforgivable.

Her hands clenched against the wall. She felt sick with guilt, fear squeezing her chest.

His retaliation felt inevitable, but he didn’t lash out. Any other time, any other circumstance, she had no doubt he would have killed her in an instant. But Kane was in it for the long haul, and his reaction proved it.

Clearly he did need her. Really needed her. And because of it, his self-control during those moments was terrifying. More than ever, she now knew he was going to be one hell of an adversary.

‘You know nothing about what happened to my sister,’ he said too quietly.

He had no way of knowing she’d read the reports. How could he when he didn’t even know those who were responsible had given themselves in years before she was even a part of the VCU?

But she’d felt it even as she’d read them – just what he would have gone through. That pain never went away. She knew that only too well – the anger, the injustice, the need for revenge.

And it must have eaten away at him. Kept eating away at whatever heart he had left. His revenge against the vigilantes who’d killed his parents had been merciless. There had been over thirty of them, but he’d got every single one of them and everyone they knew. It had been the start of the tirade that had earned him his reputation. The vigilantes had hoped to evoke a warning by taking down a master family – a caution to all vampires who thought they could share human territory. Instead, they’d learned the lesson of what messing with master vampires, of what messing with Kane, induced. More terrifyingly, he had taken his time over years, filled each with the terror and dread of knowing he was coming for them one at a time. Eventually he’d got his family’s land back, their status, their dignity. Before the regulations came into being.

But that same vengeance for his sister had been, unbeknownst to him, thwarted by a wall of silence the Third Species Control Division had no choice but to maintain. They’d had no choice but to cover it up or the consequences would have been dire – for the families of those responsible, for the entire lycan community, for law and order in the locale. The lycans responsible had handed themselves in the night after the incident, had given full and frank confessions and had since been held in the detainment unit, terrified of the wrath of Kane.