Authors: Virna Depaul
Tags: #Novel, #Vampires, #Romantic Suspense, #werewolves, #paranormal romance, #Paranormal, #Romance, #Fantasy, #Shapeshifters, #urban fantasy
When he cursed and pulled away, not because he didn’t like it but maybe
because he liked it too much, she cried out and tried to pull him close again,
immediately missing the feel of him in her mouth. He shook his head. “Put on
the condom,” he gritted out, hands still buried in her hair. “Now.”
She obeyed with unsteady hands. When she was done, he helped her to her
feet, and with his gaze locked on hers, reached down and ripped her panties
off. His hands gripped her hips and with amazing ease, he lifted her up and
poised her over his straining flesh, butting against her opening like a
stallion ready to bolt out the gates.
After that first time, he hadn’t kissed her again. He made no move to
do so now, but she couldn’t stop her gaze from lowering to his mouth. She
wanted that mouth on her. All over her. She wanted his tongue in her again. In
other places.
“Look at me,” he ordered.
Her eyes jerked back to his. He lowered her onto his shaft, feeding her
one inch at a time, jerking one hitching gasp out of her after another. The
feel of him stretching her delicate, clasping flesh caused pleasure as sharp as
diamonds to rip through her. When he was fully inside her, stretching her
almost to the point of pain, she could no longer bear the intensity of his
gaze.
She buried her face in his neck and breathed in deep, dizzy from his
fresh, clean scent. Without forethought, she nipped him and imagined sinking
her fangs into his beautiful skin. Her little bite spurred him into motion and
suddenly he was pounding himself into her, alternately lifting her and pulling
her, working her over his flesh at the depth he wanted, the angle he wanted,
the speed he wanted.
And what he wanted just happened to be exactly what she wanted, too.
The pulses started deep inside her, small, tight little flutters that
expanded into rolling, thundering explosions that shook her like a rag doll caught
in a hurricane.
“Yes,” Dex hissed. “That feels amazing. Keep going.”
She didn’t know what he meant but then realized that as he kept moving
in short, hard thrusts, he was somehow prolonging the pleasure, keeping her on
the edge of sensation even as his pace quickened and he reached for his own.
“Holy fuck,” he breathed just before he exploded. As he came, he
latched onto her breast, sucking her nipple through the fabric of her tee. His
grip tightened on her hips to the point she knew she’d have bruises but she
didn’t care. She felt him pulsing inside her, felt the sucks on her nipple and
farther down, deep inside her, and she flew straight into another intense
orgasm. Another first for her.
She pulled back, breathing hard, and stared into his pleasure-contorted
face. She felt a trickle of liquid on her thigh. Realized the condom had
broken. Since she couldn’t get pregnant or give him any kind of disease,
however, she didn’t bother telling him.
When his release ended and his face relaxed, he growled, “We’re not
done yet.”
“No,” she breathed in agreement.
Little to no foreplay and Dex had given her multiples right out the
gate.
She couldn’t wait for what came next.
Jesmina pulled herself out of the tangle of his arms and looked down at
Dex. For the first time since meeting him, his expression was completely
vulnerable, relaxed in sleep so he could no longer hide himself behind a fierce
glower or disdainful sneer. Slightly parted lips revealed just the tips of his
fangs. His chest rose and fell with his breaths, the muscles rippling beneath
burnished skin. She noticed a soft patch of hair that had tickled her cheek
when she’d rested against him, relishing the strong beat of his heart. The
flesh between her thighs ached, further evidence of his vitality and health.
Dex Hunt had given her the best sex she’d ever had.
Problem was, sleeping with him hadn’t been part of the plan.
Making him think it would happen, yes. Getting him alone so she could
use persuasion against him, sure.
But not sex.
Only, resisting the were’s touch had proven outside her capabilities.
Her response had had nothing to do with her plan and everything to do with the
simple fact she’d wanted him. Wanted something for herself when for so long
she’d thought only of others. She’d been so far gone she’d even let him strip
off her shirt, giving him a good long look at the hideous scars on her arm,
which, though ugly, hadn’t slowed him down. He’d run his fingers and mouth over
the damaged skin just like he did every other part of her body and soon she was
too caught up in pleasure to be embarrassed.
Now that the sex had happened, however—now that he was naked,
with the gold charm he normally used to block vampire power likely somewhere
still in his clothes that she’d kicked into the closet—she still had one
thing left to do.
Reading his mind should have been easy given everything she’d taken
from him already. But it wasn’t. Not for her.
This would be the final violation, the most intimate penetration she
could commit, yet she let neither that knowledge nor her unease stop her.
She couldn’t. What she found would cement her next move. Either she’d
be able to wake Dex and tell him the truth—make her offer—or she’d
have to take what she needed and leave. She wanted so badly to be able to wake
him…
She slipped inside his mind so gently he’d never sense she’d been
there. She prodded carefully but thoroughly, and within seconds had her
disappointing answer.
Bodin of Hammersham would get no help here. Not willingly. Dex Hunt
hated him—his own grandfather. He wanted to kill him.
Nonetheless, Bodin’s plan had worked. By ostracizing Dex, he’d kept him
alive.
Dex had no idea what he was.
He had no idea of the immortality he could give.
And hopefully, neither did anyone else.
Soundlessly, she retrieved the supplies from her bag and used
persuasion to keep Dex asleep while she drew his blood. It was a particularly
hard task since he was sleeping and few vampires could actually accomplish
persuasion on a sleeping individual; she, however, had tricks of the trade that
other vampires didn’t. It was just one benefit of a life dedicated to
researching Otherborn, including her own race. She knew how to use persuasion
on someone who was sleeping. Knew how to train a vampire mind so the vampire
could lie. Knew all kinds of little known facts about vampires and weres and
felines…
She smirked.
Oh my.
Yes, she was a virtual treasure trove of information, yet she didn’t
know the things she’d always agonize over.
Why had she been saved when her parents hadn’t?
Why would she live forever when those she loved wouldn’t?
Why had she finally met a male who could move her and make her think
beyond her guilt and duty, only to have to use him and leave him shortly
thereafter?
She would never have those answers, but she might be able to have
others.
With Dex’s help, with his blood, she could find the key to prolonging
the lives of those who weren’t born immortal. At least, she prayed to the
Goddess Essenia that would be the case.
To accomplish what she wanted and to run all the necessary tests,
however, she’d need a lot of Dex’s blood. Almost too much blood, since she’d
likely never see Dex again and this was her one shot at getting enough samples.
She had to be careful, otherwise he wouldn’t just be feeling woozy tomorrow—he
might not recover. So she used care, taking what she needed and not a drop
more.
As she took vial after vial, his scent whirled around her, seeping into
her skin and causing her fangs to lengthen despite her efforts to keep them
sheathed. As a doctor, she’d always had to exercise iron control over her
appetite in order to treat her patients. In truth, it hadn’t been all that
difficult for her, which simply made it easier to forget sometimes that she
actually was a vampire.
Things were different with Dex.
She’d been desperate to bite him as they’d made love, had thought for
sure she wouldn’t be able to stop herself, but the pleasure he’d given her had
combined with her own curiosity, giving her the strength she’d needed to
resist. Instead, she’d focused on imprinting him into her memory. The feel of
him, his touch, the taste of sucking and licking his flesh were all details she
cherished and knew she would continue to cherish for an eternity. Sadness
threatened to swamp her, making her fingers tremble, and she mentally cursed.
Focus, Jes. The guy got what he wanted from you. Now you need to do the
same.
When she was done and the vials of blood safely stored, she dressed and
sat beside him again.
Guilt weighed heavily on her but she told herself she’d had no choice.
Dex’s blood could save the one person he wanted dead. He never would have given
it to her freely and she couldn’t let his anger, though understandable,
jeopardize Bodin’s life. Not when she might have the power to save it.
Professionally, she’d sworn an oath to heal all, human and Otherborn.
Practically, Bodin’s death would cause enormous problems within several
Otherborn communities, including the Draci, the community most important to
her. And personally, she owed Bodin a debt, one she could repay with Dex’s
help, whether it was freely given or not.
Yet she still regretted having to deceive Dex.
No matter how this turned out—whether or not Dex carried the gift
Bodin thought he did—Dex was special.
She’d seen that for herself when she’d seen him with his team mates.
Even the seedy bar they’d been staking out hadn’t been able to detract from the
bond they all seemed to share.
They were a family.
That knowledge had simply enhanced the attraction and intense pull
she’d felt for Dex. They were both castaways. Both orphans. Despite his
unfortunate childhood, he’d found his place. And in his arms, he’d given her
something far more precious than pleasure. Something she’d never quite felt
before.
The certainty that she belonged, too.
But that, of course, was just another cruel lie.
Jes didn’t belong. She’d found a purpose but she wasn’t indispensable.
There would always be another to take her place. Someone willing to save the
lives of others rather than live her own.
Except she’d finally lived—for a few brief hours in Dex’s arms.
And now she’d have to live without.
Jes rose, then hesitated. She could make him forget their time
together, but for some reason she didn’t want to. She told herself there was no
need. If he’d suspected her duplicity, she had no doubt she’d already be dead
Before she left, she kissed Dex’s lips and whispered goodbye.
Dex jerked awake to the shrill sound of his cell phone. He groaned as
he tried to move, his limbs as heavy as bags of cement. His muscles, his
skin—hell, even his hair—ached. Blinking the haze from his eyes, he
took in his surroundings—a swank hotel room designed in minimalist chic.
Despite his slowness to wake, he knew exactly where he was and who was supposed
to be next to him, yet he was the sole occupant of the bed.
He scanned every corner of the room and strained his ears—maybe
she was in the bathroom—but his instincts told him he was alone.
The vamp had wrung him dry then left.
He tried to sort out how he felt about that, but his blasted cell phone
continued to ring, making his temples throb.
Growling, he rose, staggering slightly before his feet were steady
beneath him. Shit, he felt hung over. Woozy. The same way he always felt
whenever he let a vamp drink his blood during a night of frenzied sex. Granted,
it hadn’t happened in several years, but it was a feeling he never forgot, just
like he never forgot the euphoric spike of pleasure that threw him into
full-out orgasm the moment a vamp’s fangs penetrated his skin. Even so, he didn’t
remember Jes biting him last night. He checked, but felt no tenderness or
puncture marks on his throat.
Apparently, it didn’t matter. Sex with her had been more intense than
any he’d ever experienced. Even now, just thinking about it, his growing hard-on
was threatening to throw off his recently found equilibrium.
With her, inside her, time itself had changed. It had raced on, filling
him with a desperate fear that he’d never be able to get his fill of her.
Simultaneously, the clock had stopped ticking, allowing him to savor each
sensation and every caress until his body had vibrated with something he’d
never felt before. He’d emptied himself into the condoms he’d worn, yet when
he’d let slumber take him, he’d felt filled with what had always eluded him.
Peace.
Contentment.
Happiness?
But those feelings were distant memories now, taunting him with the
proof of her absence. Mocking him for his weakness.
Pull yourself together, Hunt. She was a fantastic lay. That’s all.
Anything else you felt was just your imagination.
He dug his ringing cell phone out of his jeans pocket and checked the
time: 2 a.m.
Still naked, he stepped into the bathroom. “Yeah. This is Hunt.”
“Hunt,” FBI Director Kyle Mahone snapped. “Where the fuck are you?”
“Where the hell do you think I am?” He saw the note taped to the
bathroom mirror and ripped it off.
You were even better than you looked. Jes.
He frowned at the flippant words of praise. What had he been expecting?
Her phone number and an invitation to call? He filled a glass with water, then
took a long swallow. Mahone’s voice crackled out from the phone he still held
in his other hand, reminding him that he hadn’t even questioned her about the
shape-shifters the way he was supposed to.
“Damn it, Dex. Did you hear what I—”
He lowered the glass with a thud. “I’m still in Los Angeles with the
team.”
“You sure as shit aren’t with the rest of the team. If you were, you’d
know there’s been an attempted murder on a shape-shifter. The culprit, another
shape-shifter, got away. Lucy’s going to the hospital to talk to the victim.”