CARNAL APPETITE (2 page)

“You are so tres doux,” he murmured huskily against her flesh. So very sweet.

He pinched her other nipple, toying with her breast as he reached his other hand beneath her skirt. Peeling her drenched panties down her thighs, he let them drop down her legs to the ground. Clara kicked them off her feet. Fingers shaking, she proceeded to work at his fly, anxious to ease her craving and have him fill her. The hard leather fly resisted her efforts.

Recognizing her struggle, he pulled away from her long enough to unfasten his fly and free his cock from his pants. Clara reached for it, curious to feel his size even if she couldn’t see it in the darkness of her position. He groaned and tilted his head back as she wrapped a tentative hand around his thick length. He was enormous. Her slit grew wetter as she thought of him burying his huge cock inside her.

“Protection,” she said, near breathless with wanting.

He nodded and dug in his pocket until he found a foil packet. Tearing it open with his teeth, he slid the thin rubber over his erection.

Clara pulled at his hips, urging him forward. He hesitated a moment, and she could feel his body tremble with tension and energy, as if he was debating with himself the wisdom of this course. His hesitation only made her want him more. Desperate beyond belief, Clara lifted a leg and wrapped it around his hips, drawing him to her, weakening his resolve. He shuddered finally, the battle he’d waged within over. Giving in to her demands, he grasped her thighs in his strong hands and spread her wide open. Cool air caressed her nether lips with shocking fingers. She trembled, waiting.

With a strength she’d never experienced, he thrust his full length inside her, his strained passage eased by her own soaking juices. She could feel every rigid inch passing inside, so hard and tight. He settled his mouth on hers, muffling her cries of pleasure as he pumped his cock inside her, grinding his pelvis against her clit.

Clara couldn’t marvel at his strength in holding her up. She could only think of taking in more of him, of taking in all she could hold. She hooked her calves under his buttocks, urging him on. He pumped into her faster, harder, rocking her against the door with near bruising force.

She didn’t care--could only feel the ecstasy mounting in her every nerve with each grinding thrust. Clara threw her head back as pleasure ran through her veins with each coarse stroke, leaving her trembling and weak. He dragged his mouth down her throat, sucking at the curve until he’d left his mark of possession near the small, healing wound she’d gotten days earlier, piercing her skin slightly with his teeth. He slid his cock in and out of her soaked pussy.

She hovered at the edge of ultimate release, ultimate agony. Clara dropped a hand and massaged her clit, craving the fall. She stroked herself roughly, slipping in her own juices until the orgasm took her in one liquefying climax. She screamed then, her muscles contracting around him as he continued thrusting inside her, faster now, shorter strokes as he rode her to his own completion. Her pussy continued to quiver with the orgasm, building to another as he continued. Clara moaned, the pleasure exhausting and thrilling all together.

He kissed her, hard, arms shaking and tense, hands gripping her as though he would fall without her anchoring him to this world. With a great shudder and a heaving sigh, he came. His cock twitched inside her, the thin rubber no protection against the potency of his release. He dropped her legs to the ground and collapsed against her, breathing raggedly, leaning heavily against the door.

Clara hugged him tightly, enjoying the feel of his hammering heart against her breasts--fast and powerful as a wild beast’s. Her own pulse and breathing slowed, returning to normal. The pleasure still surged through her veins--her clit throbbing with the intensity of her orgasm--distracting enough to stall thoughts of remorse for a time.

A chill wind suddenly burst through the alley. It howled through the narrow passage with the ferocity of a train bearing down on them. Newspapers and other debris caught in the current whirled through the path past them, twirling as though caught in the force of a cyclone.

He broke away abruptly to look into the darkness and fastened his pants as he walked away to stand in the middle of the alley. Pale light shone down on him, casting fierce shadows across his face, illuminating the tension evident in his body and rigid stance. He appeared ready to pounce at the slightest provocation.

Clara shivered and pulled the edges of her blouse together, smoothing her skirt down over her thighs. Something was wrong. Leaning back against the door, she felt inexplicably weak, as though she would faint. Her skin felt feverish despite the cool air, and she didn’t think the cause was their rigorous love-making from moments before. The eerie feeling taking hold grew by the minute, stronger and stronger. Her sight had narrowed down to a single point of focus, and she grasped at the vision of her lover to keep her afloat.

The sudden stillness of the night was broken by his voice, startling her.

“Danior,” he said, speaking into the yawning cavity of darkness before him, a single word that sent chills traveling up her spine despite its simplicity, for she’d thought them alone.

There was such depth of hatred in his voice--she would have had to be deaf to miss it. She never expected he would get a response.

“Am I interrupting?”

Chapter Two

The man stepped from the shadows like a cliché from a bad horror movie. Only nothing about this scene made Clara feel like laughing. An immense feeling of terror pervaded her senses, brought on by the man who’d seemingly come from nowhere. It was an unreasonable reaction, but something about him struck her as frighteningly familiar. The memory of the strange wounds she’d discovered while showering inexplicably came back to her, flashing in her mind’s eye like a haunting vision.

A long, black cape concealed his body, making him appear to almost glide toward them. Equally strange, it took her a minute to realize the wind did not stir his hair or clothes. A chill ran down her spine at the sudden insight. She shook it off, determined not to allow her imagination to run wild.

The scope of her sight began clearing as he neared them, but her breathing was harsh in the ensuing quiet. She had to fight for every breath she took and could only stare in mesmerized horror as the two of them faced off.

A struggle for dominance, for power, was taking place between them, she knew, though neither uttered a word. Unseen energy fairly crackled in the air. She half expected them to lunge at each other’s throats, but after a few minutes of tense waiting, something gave and the cloud of morbidity lessened enough to breathe and think once more.

Clara gasped as a rush of air entered her lungs. Attracted to the sound, the man glanced directly at her for the first time. Darkly beautiful, inky hair framed a face of sharp angles, but his full lips softened masculine edges. His skin was pale enough she wondered if he had an allergy to the sun like a child she’d once known.

A buzzing began in her ears as he stared at her, creeping through her brain like spider webs. Unconsciously, she took a step forward from the shelter of the door frame, releasing the edges of her blouse as she dropped her arms. Air struck her exposed skin. Becoming aware of what she was doing, she shook her head, trying to dismiss the probes tickling her mind.

He smiled, sensuously chilling, and the humming stopped. Clara hastily buttoned her blouse, uncaring if it was straight or not. She swallowed hard. What just happened? she wondered.

“You’ve taken my cherry, Raoul. I admit I hadn’t expected such audacity near my abode,” the stranger said suddenly in a softly seductive voice, returning his attention to the man who had so lately ravished her with pleasure.

Raoul. It sounded archaic. Clara didn’t wonder at the strangeness of his words, rather that she now knew her mystery man’s name. The knowledge had barely settled in her mind before she was caught off guard by Raoul’s response to the man.

Hands clenched as hard and tense as his body, he looked capable of rending a man to pieces. Harsh, almost feral, he said, “I’ve given her the first mark, Danior. There’s nothing you can do.”

The finality of his words made Clara shudder. This confrontation should have struck her as ridiculous, but there was nothing farcical about the two men squaring off. Reaching up, she tenderly touched the bite Raoul had left on her neck in the throws of passion, so close to the wound she’d discovered yesterday. She’d ignored the small pain then, but did he think it entitled him to something more?

“I have only to drain her life’s blood to cancel your marks,” Danior responded.

Enough of that! “What the hell are you two talking about?” she demanded, anger and fear mingling as one.

“A small matter, nothing more, my pet,” Danior said, keeping his eyes trained on Raoul.

“I’m not your ... anything. Or his either.” Her brief insanity had landed her in a hell of a mess. It was past time she got out of here. Scraping through a confrontation was better than sticking around and being murdered. The proximity of the club wasn’t enough of a safety net to suit her nerves, even if there was a chance others could come out the back exit as they had.

Clara straightened her resolve and pushed past the both of them, giving wide berth but exposing her back as she walked by. It couldn’t be helped--it wasn’t so bright that she couldn’t not watch where she was going. Spraining an ankle wouldn’t help her out run them if they gave chase.

Air rushed through the alley as it had earlier, and someone--Danior--laughed harshly behind her. Clara glanced over her shoulder as she quickened her pace. Only she and Raoul remained in the alley. Oh shit. Breathe. Just breathe. She ran. This was too freaky. She half wondered if she’d somehow been drugged and hallucinated the entire episode.

Heels clicking rapidly with hollow sound on the pavement, she raced through the remainder of the alley, looking wildly around as she dug her keys out of her pocket. She just wanted the safety of her car--to go home. Dashing through the floodlight at the end of the alley, past the club’s entrance, she headed for the packed lot where she’d parked.

Raoul caught her at her car. Clara gasped in surprise when he grabbed her. She hadn’t heard him over the deafening thump of her heart, hadn’t expected him to be so fast, so close. One minute she was alone, and the next, he’d spun her around and trapped her against the closed door. Her keys clattered as they struck the ground, knocked from her hand in the tussle.

Raoul closed his large hands around her biceps in a vice grip and pressed his hard body tight to hers, caging her so that she couldn’t move ... unless he willed it. She struggled a minute, realized it was less than useless to fight someone so much larger, and relaxed her back against the cool metal door.

“What do you want?” she asked belligerently, forcing herself to breathe deeply to calm her racing heart. She could act brave when she needed to. She’d talked her way out of worse situations, and she was eager to put this night behind her.

“I’m afraid I can’t allow you to leave,” he said with soft menace.

“I’ll scream.”

He leaned in close, until his mouth was inches from her own, teasing with his nearness. His breath warmed her skin, making her lips tingle with awareness. She thought he would kiss her, but when he did nothing, she was strangely disappointed. He was close enough she caught that wild scent that drove her insides into turmoil and filled her with instant lust. She couldn’t remember ever being so ... animalistic before.

“You would have screamed already if you’d planned to, chere.”

What? She’d been so focused on his mouth, she forgot she’d said anything. “I still could.”

“But you won’t.” He rubbed his thumbs against the soft sides of her breasts in a manner that soothed as much as it teased. Her nipples tightened inside her lacy bra, and she suddenly had too much clothing on. She squirmed under the touch, and he pressed his hips harder against her as a warning. Any closer, and he’d be inside her. She bit her bottom lip, hating her responsiveness to him.

“There’s over a hundred people inside that club. Someone will come,” she said softly, unwilling to concede defeat.

“You know very well no one would hear you over the music. Besides,” He paused a moment, his smile feral as he pulled back slightly. He passed a lingering look over her breasts, exposed by the hastily fastened blouse and her position. “No one heard your cries of pleasure.”

Heat suffused her body, flushing her skin pink under his gaze. Her breasts felt heavy, swollen. She longed for him to massage the ache away. “Don’t look at me like that,” she said, attempting to bolster her anger.

“Tell me you don’t enjoy it....” He smiled knowingly. “You can’t lie to me ... I can smell it.”

His voice was soft, almost apologetic in tone. But the look in his eyes belied that impression, dared her to contradict him. Clara remained silent. It was the truth. She swallowed hard as the realization hit home.

“What are you going to do with me?” she asked softly, almost afraid of the answer. There was a dangerous allure, a restrained savageness, about him that had captivated her from the moment she first saw him. She wanted him to brand her, to take her god only knew where. And that was the most frightening realization of all--even if he was mixed up with some lunatic.

As an answer, he shifted against her, almost nestling between her legs, as if he knew exactly how much she wanted him. And damn the consequences. The thin, silk skirt she wore was little barrier to the bulge of his arousal pressed hard into her. Moisture gathered in her sex with the insistent contact, tickling her swollen labia. She tilted her head back, closing her eyes, resisting the urge to moan, and suddenly remembered she hadn’t put her panties back on. A flick of his wrist, and he could release his erection, take her there on the car. She shuddered.

“I want you to come with me.”

She looked at him, and her clit throbbed at the look in his eyes. Her mouth was instantly dry. Clara swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I ... can’t. This is crazy. I don’t even know your full name, who you are....”