Dark Magic (15 page)

He lifted her easily into his arms. "I know. It would be simpler if I did not. Come to my bed,
chérie
, where you belong."

His arms were strong, and the wildness in him was beckoning her. Her arms crept around his neck. She moved his hair so that she could burrow close to his skin. "And if the vampire comes?" Her lips drifted against his ear, then lower, her tongue caressing an intriguing little dip. "What do you plan to do with me if the renegades should come again?"

Her breath was heated silk, her mouth hot satin. Her teeth nipped gently. There was no thought in his mind, just a roar of hunger for her body. Mindless, scorching hunger. Her teeth nibbled at his collarbone while her hand slid inside his shirt. Her fingers tangled in the spread of dark hairs across his chest, found each defined muscle and traced it. The roar spread thoughout his body until he shook with it.

He made it to the bed only because it was so close. She lifted her head when he set her feet on the stone floor, a small smile curving her soft mouth. Mysterious. Sexy. His little innocent was seducing him, and doing a damn good job of it. Every muscle in his body was hard and aching. He was on fire, burning with need. Her smile. Her perfect, perfect mouth.

Gregori bent his head and took possession of that mouth. Her lips were warm and satin-smooth. His tongue explored the sweet curve; his teeth tugged insistently, demanding entrance. She complied with his silent command, her mouth moist, hot silk. The world seemed to fall away. He fed voraciously, long, drugging kisses, devouring her sweetness, feeding on sensuality.

His hands framed her face, held her still for his demanding mouth. Colors burst all around him; lightning sizzled and danced, and the roaring in his mind increased. He found her throat, soft and vulnerable. Hands tore at her clothing, needing to get at her creamy skin, needing to feel it soft and supple beneath his palms. Material floated to the floor in strips all around them, a frenzied shower of cloth.

Savannah's breath caught in her throat. She had unleashed something far beyond her control, and despite her good intentions, it frightened her. Gregori was everywhere, his body hard and unyielding, his arms like iron. His enormous strength was intimidating. But the feel of his mouth, hot and masculine, demanding her compliance, was mesmerizing. Her body, of its own accord, seemed to go liquid with heat.

He stripped her white lace panties from her slender form, exposing bare skin to his hungry gaze. She heard his swift intake of breath. His silver eyes moved over her face, her mouth, the line of her throat. Everywhere his eyes touched, she felt a flame dance, then linger, long after he lifted his head to move on to the next spot. Her body was flawless beneath his hungry gaze. Her skin was creamy smooth, her breasts firm and round, her narrow rib cage emphasizing their perfection. He caught her waist and dragged her to him, bending her backward to bring her breasts to his mouth.

She made a soft little sound, like a kitten, her body moving restlessly against his. Her arms cradled his head, holding him to her. His mouth on her breasts was hot and hungry, insistent. Each strong pull bathed her in liquid, so that she moaned and pressed herself against him, loving the feel of his mouth.

His hands moved down her back, finding her hips to urge her closer. He was hard and thick, full with desperate need of her. When he lifted his head, his molten gaze scorching her with heat, Savannah leaned against him to taste the small bead of perspiration running down the tangle of hair on his chest. She followed it, never quite catching up. When her tongue caressed his flat belly, she felt him shudder with anticipation. The tiny little bead raced lower still. Her arms circled his hips, found the firm muscles of his buttocks, and tugged him even closer. As she bent her head nearer, playing catch-up with the rolling bead, her hair brushed across his raging body. Gregori groaned, the sound torn from his throat, raw and aching. His large hands caught at her hair and bunched it tightly in his fists.

"You are playing with fire,
ma petite
." The words were nearly unable to escape his strangled throat.

She glanced up at him, just once. A quick look from under the crescent of her long lashes. Teasing. Sexy. His innocent erotic. "I thought I was playing with
you
," she denied, her attention back on his fierce arousal. Her warm breath bathed him in heat, in temptation.

He threw back his head, his hands tightening in her thick mane of hair. His neck was arched, his eyes closed. "I think it is fair to say it is the same thing," he bit out between clenched teeth.

Her tongue trapped the little racing bead as she cupped his heavy fullness in her hand. "You're the one who started this," she murmured absently.

He was hot and hard, iron wrapped in velvet. He braced himself as she urged him closer, her mouth like hot silk. "
Mon Dieu
, Savannah," he breathed in a rush of air escaping his lungs. "I might not survive this."

Her tongue swirled, the pressure exquisite, the friction almost more than he could bear. His hips moved, a rhythm he had no control over, holding her to him while the world fell away and there was only intense pleasure and lights exploding in his head. For a few precious moments out of his endless empty existence, he could believe someone cared for him, someone loved him enough to bring him out of the darkness and into the light. Into ecstasy.

He caught at her and drew her up so that he could press her backward onto the bed. She was so small, for a moment he was afraid he might hurt her with his strength, but she was moving restlessly, needing him, the hunger in her mind rising to match his own. He caught her hips and dragged her to the edge of the bed so that he could explore her the way he wanted.

She was his alone. Her body his one solace. He was determined to know every inch of her intimately. He knew it was his strength she feared, not what he was doing to her. She stiffened, her body rigid when he pinned her to the blanket. He bent his dark head, his teeth scraping the inside of her thigh. "You trust me, Savannah. I know you do." His breath was warm as he tasted her. "You are part of me. I cannot hurt you. Touch my mind with yours. I want you more than I have ever wanted anything in my entire existence." His tongue caressed her, teased, stroked intimately.

She jerked beneath him, then exhaled sharply. There were no walls, no ceiling, no floor, nothing but space and Gregori. His hands moved over her body, explored, memorized, possessed, even as his mouth drove her wild, took her over and over the edge until she shattered into a million fragments and he put her back together again just to repeat the process. It was endless, forever; it went on and on until she thought she might explode.

She caught his hair and tugged at him, wanting his body, needing him to fill her, to merge completely with her. Gregori reluctantly complied, covering her slender frame with his husky one. He pressed against her and felt her moist heat, ready, enticing him, needing him. He bent to find her throat. Nuzzled. Nipped. His tongue stroked. His hips moved away from her. He surged forward, burying himself deeply just as his teeth sank into her vulnerable throat.

Savannah thought she might die with pleasure. He stretched her, tight and fiery; the friction, as he forged into her over and over in long, deep strokes, nearly drove her insane. She held on to his shoulders, her nails digging deep, to keep from flying away. She could feel his mouth on her throat devouring her life's essence, his mind thrusting into hers, sharing the pleasure, heightening it. She could feel his body swelling, hardening even more, the roaring firestorm threatening to consume her, to consume him.

He was everywhere she turned, in her mind, her body, her heart, her soul. The fire raged in him, in her. His body took hers with aggression, domination, his mouth frenzied with hunger. He seemed insatiable; so was she. She couldn't tell where she left off and he started. He took her harder and faster until her body rippled with life and convulsed with pleasure. It didn't matter to either of them. It wasn't enough; it would never be enough.

Gregori's tongue swept across her throat, closed the pinpricks, but his mouth deliberately left his brand on her. "Feed, Savannah. Hunger for me." His velvet, mesmerizing voice was husky with need.

He didn't have to ask her. She lusted after him.
Lust
was the only word she could think of that came close to describing the intensity of her need. She had to taste him, to have him inside her, not just her body or her heart and mind but her very veins. She craved the taste of him, was addicted to him, hungered for him.

"Do you want me?" he asked, his hips slowing to long, rhythmic strokes.

Savannah smiled against his bare skin. "You know I do. You feel what I feel." Deliberately she bit at his neck, her tongue sweeping the pulse beating so strongly there. "How could I not want you?"

His body clenched in anticipation. Waited. His breath stopped. His heart, too. Deliberately she prolonged the moment, scraping gently over his pulse, closing her eyes while his body reacted, swelling thickly inside her. When her teeth pierced his skin, he nearly lost his control, the pleasure so intense that he could feel his body gathering, gathering, plunging ever deeper to bury himself in her soul. Around him, she tightened, gripping him with fire and velvet, clenching and rippling until he had no choice but to answer her call. They exploded together, a shattering intensity he would never forget. Her complete surrender, her selfless giving of her body and mind.

Gregori laid his head beside hers, squeezing his eyes shut to prevent her from seeing the moisture there. She fed gently, her mouth soft and sensuous at his neck, her body rippling with aftershocks. He held her tightly, determined never to let her go. Determined he would find a way to make her want to stay with him. Find a way to tie her to him so that if his duplicity was ever discovered, she would still never want to leave him.

Savannah closed the two points of entry on his skin and lay quietly beneath him. He was heavy, his body enveloping hers entirely, nearly crushing her into the blankets. His stillness, the hard possession in the strength of his arms, warned her to stay quiet. He was fighting his demons again. "Gregori?" She tasted his shoulder. "I am your true lifemate. There is no other for me. Your fears are groundless."

His arms tightened even more, nearly strangling her. "I am dangerous, Savannah, more dangerous than you could ever know. I do not trust my emotions. They are new to me and intense. I have killed so often, the pieces of my soul were destroyed a long time ago."

Her hands found his hair, stroked and caressed, attempted to soothe him. "My soul is your other half. It fits perfectly, and there are no pieces missing. It only feels that way to you because after so many centuries of nothingness, of emptiness, you can feel again. It's all just overwhelming to you."

He shifted his weight but did not let her go. He couldn't. He had to touch her, remain inside her, his body locked with hers. "I wish it were true,
mon amour
. I really wish it were so."

"The dawn is here, Gregori," she reminded him softly, all at once aware of their being tangled together, intertwined as one being.

"Are you cold?"

"No." How could she be? His body was hot inside hers, upon hers, his hips moving gently but insistently.

Gregori waved a hand to lock the entrances, placing the safeguards for outside and inside. All the time his attention was centered on his body gliding in and out of hers. The beauty. The mystery. The pleasure. "We will sleep soon,
chérie
, I promise. But not now. Not for a little while." He murmured the words against her breast, then settled closer, his mouth feeding gently on her softness. He wanted to stay there, in the sanctuary of her body, for all time.

Chapter Seven

Detective David Johnson escorted the couple through the crowded squad room to his office. Heads turned, and an eerie silence seemed to follow their progress. He really couldn't blame the men. In all the years of his police work, he had never seen a woman more beautiful or haunting. It was the only word to describe her beauty.
Haunting
. She moved like a song, a whisper, like water moving through space. Flowing. Still, it was embarrassing the way grown policemen were acting like lovesick puppies.

She was a celebrity, the cause of the throngs of unruly newsmen camping on the precinct's doorstep, but he knew it was more than that. Savannah Dubrinsky was the kind of woman who stayed in a man's mind for all time. She was the stuff of dreams. Dreams of hot nights, silk sheets, and lots of steamy sex. A fantasy come alive.

Johnson risked a glance at the man pacing so easily at her side. A dangerous fellow, that one. Dark. Menacing. He moved so silently, no one could possibly detect him unless he wished it. Even his clothes didn't rustle. His hair was long and thick, tied at the nape of his neck with a leather thong. He looked elegant, Old World, like a pirate or a count. His face was arresting, all hard angles and planes, with unusual pale eyes, a slashing silver that gave nothing away. This was a man to be reckoned with. It was in the set of his shoulders, his air of complete authority. Johnson had seen men of power before, men who could make life-and-death decisions every day. This man was a cut above. This man wore power like his own skin. He
was
power. Johnson felt the hard slam of his heart in his chest every time those peculiar cat-like eyes rested on him. Eyes that were unblinking. Disturbing.

The man's posture said it all. God help the person dumb enough to ever lay a finger on Savannah Dubrinsky. Johnson had been worried about some San Francisco nutcase trying to get to the famous magician while she was in town, but now that he had met her husband, he figured anyone trying to touch her would have to be suicidal.

He stepped back to allow Savannah entrance to his office and was not a bit surprised when her husband somehow managed to insert his solid frame between his body and Savannah's. Johnson closed the door firmly and refrained from giving in to the impulse to pull the blinds. The entire squad was staring through the dingy glass, ogling her.