Captiva Captive (17 page)

While she trembled on the cusp of orgasm, he slid her down.  As her breasts passed his mouth, he rent her shirt and bra, exposing and then skimming her nipples with his evil tongue.  Her mounds grew heavier, hardening until they peaked with oversized pink berries.  He feasted on her, stoking the fire low in her belly, bringing her back to the brink of relief before changing sides and giving her opposite breast even more attention. He stopped again, teasing, sparking her ire.

“Six.” She gritted her teeth.

“Not yet.”

The Jacuzzi was full and bubbling.  He spun her against the wall, pushing her heated nipples against the cool surface while using his talented thumb to strum her swollen clitoris. Flick.  Flick.  Flick. “I’m going to crawl so far inside of you,” he panted nearly a foot over her head, enclosing her body with his, “that you’ll never be able to leave me again.”  

Faster flicks, slower flicks, a random pattern coupled with an inherent rhythm.  Drowning in the rhythm, she knew he was determined to torment her. Make her beg for his carnal mercy. Blythe sucked in a sharp breath, sensing his naked chest against her naked back.  Somehow, he’d stripped her completely, leaving her entirely nude. She felt his zipper against her bare bottom, his long fingers moving around. An ominous unzipping interrupted their harsh exhalations. Metal teeth bit into her flesh and she reached around, grabbing his muscled ass as he undulated against her.    “How’d you -”

“Shush,” he said with a thundering growl.  “I’m raving mad for you.  Starving for your body and now the hunger is inescapable.”

She shivered as his words hit her nape, making the silky hairs stand up. Logic was lost.  Pieces moved on her internal chessboard.  Not the king, not the queen, but a shiny, black knight with flaming, red eyes aimed straight at her libido.  “I wanna come.”

“Say I can’t think, Six.”

He whirled her around, pushing her against the granite countertop. “Damn you,” she groaned.  He tipped his dick inside her dripping lips, stroking in an inch, taking out an inch.  Again.  Going in an inch, then he left her empty. She watched him poised behind her, the mirror reflecting his bunched shoulders as he held back what she desperately wanted.  Sweat beaded his forehead.  White teeth clenched inside an open panting mouth.  Nostrils flared and sharp tendons sculpted his neck, straining up to a jutting jaw.

“Say I’m not going to leave you, Six.”

“No.  Sex.  Only sex.”

“Oh, Blythe” – he pressed most of his weight against her back, molding his body to hers, and cupped his palm around the front of her throat - “you’re refusals only sweeten your capitulation.”  In one deep thrust, he was all the way inside her.  Her walls quivered around him, confused with his of his unyielding size, his possession.  He always had something that no one else had and she couldn’t understand it.  The sensation of him
this way
was insurmountable.

Sixten Kovac could consume anyone with his cock.  Eat them alive with his animalistic eroticism. He moved her hair over her shoulder and sinuously ran his tongue up her spine, then pressed his face against hers - cheek to cheek.  She stared at their reflection as he took her body. He was beautiful. A formidable man was moving behind her – all thickly male, maybe his possessiveness skated a little too close to his primitive ancestors. But who was she to complain when he could make her feel this way? She moaned when he reached the top and hissed when he withdrew, feeling suddenly empty and lost.

He pushed in again and she figured he touched her pelvic bones that time.  “You are a voyeuristic fantasy, Blythe.”

She wiggled for him, enticing him to hurry.  Release her ‘Six-imposed’ pent-up hell from dangling her over orgasm’s cliff one too many times.  Then they could start all over again when she caught her breath.  But his moves were precisely driven and his desire was methodically controlled, though his eyes told a different story.  They were dangerously wild as his gaze flashed between her full ass and the mirror displaying her shallow, open-mouthed breathing and jiggling breasts. 

“You’re not rushing me, Blythe.  I’ve been too long without you and I’m enjoying it way too much to hurry.  The feel of you…ah, just the feel of you again.”

In a blinding movement, they were in the Jacuzzi.  He was riding her while she rode a powerful jet.  Water hit her swollen bundle of nerves while Sixten swirled and tormented her g-spot.  “Ooooh, Six, yeah…”  She tossed her head.  Black hair flew all over the place as she shuddered and groaned her way over that damn cliff. Finally.  “Oh, shit!” Lights were blinking in and out. 
No
, that was her vision. 

“Do you love me?”

“Six.”

He withdrew and flipped her around.  Water lapped her puckered nipples.  Strong hands raised her over his lap, easing her down his shaft in torturous increments.  “Answer me.”

“Please, it’s too sensitive.”

His smile was wicked as he slammed the last inch home.  “Say it, baby, say it for me.”

“I have no reason to love you anymore.” She bit her lip.   Stifling screams he longed to hear - screams to stroke his ego while he stroked her body – or if she was honest with herself, she was biting off the words saying ‘I love you’.

A warm, wet mouth sucked her neck as he pumped her.  Then he pressed her ass to that same jet and spread her halves open.  Her release was so immediate, so violent, she nearly blacked-out.  But not before she got a load of Six.  His head was back, his shoulders straining as he hissed between dark, erotic tremors.  She slumped on his gorgeous body, placed a hand on his scratchy jaw and kissed away the pained expression on his face.

“You let me in your skin just now.  You’re nowhere near over me,” he whispered, both still experiencing aftershocks.  “The words didn’t come, but I felt them rolling off your amazing body.” He kissed a line across her collarbone, nipping here and there. “You do love me, and you’re home now, Blythe.  You’re home with me.”

That’s when the lights really went out.

“Six?”  He pulled her out of the water and wrapped her in a towel so quickly her head spun until she tasted bile.  She heard a rustle and then his zipper.  “How can you see anything?”

    “Stay here,” he barked, pushing her to the floor and putting his shirt in her hands.  “I mean it, Blythe.  Stay in this bathroom.”

    A strange sensation came over her, and she pressed her fingertips to her temples to push it away. She lost her warm prickles, her sense of comfort and relaxation.   A cold, imaginary blade scraped her spine, replacing her serenity. “Something wants me.”  Somehow, at that moment, Blythe felt it.  All of tonight’s weirdness revolved around
her
not Sixten.

    He wasn’t simply taking her, but possibly protecting her.  From what?

An odd shiver crept across her skin.  An inert rhythm vibrated her bones as if a languid current pulsed within her, connecting her soul to something far too powerful to comprehend. A calling card of something dark, and that ‘something’ was hunting her.  “Don’t leave me here.”  Blythe fumbled for Sixten, but he was long gone.

Chapter 14

    “
I
’ll pretend you aren’t trespassing, werewolves.  In return, all of you will pretend to be lost on your moonlight stroll.” Sixten crossed his arms over his bare chest, staring down from his beachside deck. “We’ll all go back to what we were doing as if nothing happened.  Fair enough?  In fact, I think that’s more than generous on my part.”

“Release her.”  Bane stepped forward in mid-transformation – much larger, more dangerous; a voice filled with gravel, and mouth exposing strong canines.  Werewolves didn’t grow fur and four legs as depicted by legends of long ago, or overactive human imaginations.  They stood upright, walking as men.  When in mid-transformation, they moved with otherworldly power. A mystic no one could follow.  They were their human façade – though not human at all - only inherently charged and very, very lethal.  Bigger and stronger than thousands of human males combined, and most were magically blessed with various powers through certain bloodlines.  While in full-transformation, they walked the razor blade of sick nightmares. 

    And Sixten was staring down five of them.

“Release her from what?”

Bane took a step forward. “I’m sure you enthralled her.”

“Jealous of my enthralling capabilities, or are you just wanting between her thighs like everyone else?”

    Sixten had never dealt with such disaccord in this area.  Raised in a community controlled by immortals, the werewolves and the vampires were close neighbors between the two islands:  Captiva and Sanibel.  The Captiva community was becoming more crowded by the day, considering the Species Breed Vampires had to share their digs with the Habaline Shapeshifters and their mixed-bloods. 

All had been well between the vamps and the wolves until Maestru had pulled some serious shit in Scotland, fracturing his relationship with the North American Alpha, Jayce Jordan.  Simply put, he poisoned Rock, head of security for the entire North American Pack, took the Alpha Queen and fed from her repeatedly. Using Tatum Shirley as a shield and bargaining tool to get what he wanted. How stupid was that?  Even deranged with bloodlust, Sixten wasn’t foolish enough to come between an immortal and his mate.

    In his questionable efforts, Maestru rescued a small number of females from a Habaline breeding camp well hidden in Scotland but sacrificed any comfortable coexistence with the Weres in doing so.  His means didn’t justify the end, at least, not according to Jayce Jordan.  So now, something ruthless and fierce was brewing between the two species. As if two feuding crime families controlled the area to see who could get to the top first, and stay there.

    Four werewolves flanked Bane in a v-formation.  Something Sixten was more than familiar with, a fighting stance presented as an open threat, especially since all werewolves were in mid-transformation.  Flawless killers who struck without mercy, werewolves loved a good bloodbath as much as the Species.  And when they were at their worse, fully transformed, they lost respect for life or any laws that protected it. “You have no rights here.”

    “You don’t have a say in territorial rights when you have shifters floating on your property, phasing in and out,” Bane breathed through his open mouth. “They are protecting you, and we are here to protect her.  Give her up.  Now.”

    “You’re not taking her.  I don’t need any Habalines to protect what is mine.  I most certainly didn’t ask them to run interference.”

    “You told me you hadn’t heard from your brother,” Bane said accusatorily.  “When did that change?   Or did it ever?   I realize lies are commonplace with your kind, though.  Everyone does.”

    Sixten didn’t have to answer squat.  “We need to get down to brass, Beta.  The real reason you want Blythe.”

    “I told you she is of our blood.”

    “Bullshit,” Sixten hissed, long and guttural. “She’s leverage to get to my brother through me, and you can’t own up to it.  God, do I look that stupid?” He pointed a finger at his intruders. “It’s beyond your kind to use a female for any gains in the immortal world, yet you decide to stoop with mine.”

    “It’s truth,” he replied, looking Six straight in the eyes. “Blythe’s bloodline is of consequence to our pack.”

Of consequence, Sixten thought, but not necessarily of their blood as he’d tried to make it sound.  Any idiot would know that they were beyond an impasse.  Animalistic strain crackled around them.  Sixten gripped the railing in an attempt to hold himself still.  He could feel the weight of their tension eating up the night air, transforming his land into a battleground in which many would die.  Problem was, one could easily get to Blythe while he was engaged with five horrendous beasts.

With that in mind, he scented another, though he couldn’t detect the source – definitely not the roving Habalines. His vampire side focused its attention on the other.  His body released the Species, honing itself into nearly seven feet of graceful, deadly muscle.  Sixten felt his bones sharpen.  Above his protruding cheekbones, his irises flared, eating up all white until his signature ice-green completely took over into vampiric flares.  Ones matching the Weres celestial blues, power against power, but his were solid green.   All glowed dangerously yet remained deceptively beautiful.  Just as any true hunter needed them to be.

He moved with the lethal confidence of a predator, yet tinged with an edge of cautiousness.  Since he now understood this was a complete setup.  But Sixten refused to ask the Habalines for help.  He sure didn’t want to owe them anything, nor did he want the Weres coming to the wrong conclusion about his relationship with the shifters. And short of calling the werewolves on their impending ambush and lunging forward with battle-ready gusto, he decided to play along, granting them the illusion of control. 

Only, that is, until he figured out what to do to keep Blythe safely tucked away.

“Six, what’s going on?”

This really couldn’t be happening.  A night destined for lovemaking was piling up with ever-increasing absurdity.  Sixten turned and yelled at Blythe, “What part of ‘wait here’ confuses you?”

“You…,” she stammered, turning in a slow circle around him, “do have f-fangs.” He watched her wobble, but standing between her and the werewolves won precedence over scooping her up.  After turning and taking in the appearances of their unwelcomed guests, she looked like she was going to retch on the spot.  He moved in front of her again, staring down at the beasts that refused to reassemble to a more human state. 

“Is…that Rock back there?”

“In the flesh.”  Sixten couldn’t call back the Species unless the beasts came out of mid-trans around Blythe. “Charming, isn’t he?”  He steadily turned his head, keeping the five in his peripheral vision as he warned her, “Go inside.  I will be there shortly.”

“You’re a …,” she whispered over a strange gurgling sound, “a…what?”

“Blythe,” Sixten exploded.  “Inside!  Now!”

“Blythe,” Rock interrupted, taking advantage of the distraction to move closer.  “I want you to come with me, sweetheart.”  He beckoned her with his large hands.  “Come on down the steps.  You’ll be fine.”