DH 05 Kiss Of The Night (21 page)

She let go of him to braid her hair.

Wulf took her hands in his and stopped her from plaiting it. “I don’t like for you to do that.” She swal owed at the hungry look in his midnight eyes. She had an odd sense of deja vu here in his room with that look on his face. Even though she shouldn’t, she liked to see the fire in his dark gaze. Liked the sensation of his hands on hers.

Or better yet, the sensation of his hands on her body…

Wulf knew he had no business being with her, no business sharing a bed or anything else, and yet he couldn’t keep himself from it.

He wanted to touch her skin for real this time. Wanted to have her legs wrapped around him as he let the heat of her body soothe his weary heart.

Don’t.

The command was so strong that he almost heeded it, but Wulf Tryggvason had never been the kind of man to listen to orders.

Not even his own.

He tilted her head up so that he could see the passionate heat in her green eyes. It scorched him. Her lips were parted, welcoming.

He skimmed his fingers down the line of her jaw until he buried them in her strawberry-blond hair. Then he took possession of her mouth. She tasted of warmth.

She pul ed him close, her arms tight and demanding as she ran her hands over his back. His body stirred, his cock hardened immediately.

Groaning, he picked her up in his arms. To his surprise, she lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist.

He laughed at her response even as the heat of her body stung him. Her core was pressed against his groin, making him wel aware of how close that part of her was to him.

Her eyes dark with passion, she tugged his shirt off over his head.

“Hungry,
villkat
?” he mumbled against her lips.

“Yes,” she breathed to his delight.

Wulf laid her on his bed. She reached down between their bodies and unzipped his pants. He growled deep in his throat the instant her eager hand reached down and touched him. The sensation of her fingers stroking his shaft shook every part of him. She even remembered how he liked to be touched. Stroked.

He almost felt like weeping from the miracle of that. Maybe he should have taken an Apol ite or Were lover centuries ago.

No, he thought as he buried his lips against the column of her throat and inhaled her rose scent. They wouldn’t have been Cassandra, and without being her, they, too, would be lacking what he needed.

There was something about this woman that fil ed him. That made him burn in a way no other ever had.

Only for her would he breach the code that forbade him to take an Apol ite to his bed.

Cassandra lifted her arms as Wulf pul ed the T-shirt over her head. She moaned at how good the heat of his naked body felt pressed against hers. Al that gloriously male skin was a divine feast for her eyes.

He ran the back of his fingers over her breasts, making them tight and aching. He took the right one into his mouth and-savored her in a way that made her heart pound. His tongue was light and gentle as he flicked it back and forth. Her stomach fluttered in response to the intense pleasure he gave her.

Then, he trailed his kisses lower, over her abdomen. He stopped to nibble her hipbone while his hands slid the sweatpants down.

Cassandra lifted her hips so that he could slide them off. He dropped them on the floor, then used his hands to spread her legs wide.

She stared at him in needful expectation as he looked at the most private part of her body. He looked feral and hungry. Possessive. And it sent an electrical surge through her.

She hissed as he ran his fingers down her cleft. His touch teased and excited her. His touch was divine.

Sating and inciting.

Wulf watched the pleasure on her face as she rubbed herself against his hand. He loved the way she responded to him. The way she was completely open and unguarded.

Climbing up on the bed, he laid his body over hers, then rol ed over with her. She wrapped her body around his as they kissed hungrily. Her skin slid against his in a sensuous symphony that ignited him even more. Wulf sat up with her in his lap. She wrapped her long legs around his waist while her hands caressed his scalp, her fingers tangling in his hair.

He was honestly afraid of what he felt as she lifted herself up and took him into her body. She rode him hungrily, her body milking his as she took what she needed and gave him what he craved.

He didn’t want to let her go. Didn’t want to ever leave this bed again.

Cassandra bit her lip at the ecstasy of having Wulf deep inside her for real. He was so hard and thick. He felt even better in the flesh than he had in her dreams.

The light hairs on his chest teased her sensitive breasts while he cupped her bottom and urged her movements. She stared at his eyes, which were dark with passion.

Their breathing was synchronized as she slammed her hips against his groin over and over again.

She’d never made love to a man like this. In his lap, their bodies wrapped together. It was the most intimate thing she’d ever experienced.

She leaned her head back as Wulf suckled her. Cradling his head, she felt overwhelmed by pleasure.

And when she came, she cried out loud.

Wulf lifted his head to watch her face as she orgasmed. She was so beautiful to him. He laid her back on the bed without leaving her body, then took control. Closing his eyes, he thought about nothing except the feel of her warm and wet underneath him.

There was no past, no tomorrow. No Dark-Hunter. No Apol ites.

It was just the two of them. Her hands on his back, her legs entwined with his, as he thrust himself deep inside her.

Needing this more than he had ever needed anything else, he buried his face in her hair and released himself deep inside her.

Cassandra held Wulf tight as she felt him convulse. His breath tickled her neck. His body was damp from perspiration and his long black hair teased her skin. Neither of them moved as they breathed raggedly in the afterglow.

She took comfort in his weight pressing down on her. The feeling of his rough, masculine body prickling hers. She ran her hands over his muscular back, over his scars, then she idly traced the tattoo on his shoulder.

He lifted himself up so that he could look into her eyes. “I think I’m addicted to you.” She smiled at his declaration even though it made part of her sad to hear it. His hair fel around his face, which was soft and tender in the dim light. Tucking his hair behind his ears, she kissed him.

His arms tightened around her. She loved that feeling. It made her feel protected. Safe.

Sighing dreamily, she pul ed back. “I need to go clean up.” He didn’t release her. “I don’t want you to.”

She cocked her head at him in confusion.

“I like the sight of my seed on you, Cassandra,” he said raggedly in her ear. “My scent on your skin. Yours on mine. Most of al , I like knowing that in the morning you’l remember what we did tonight and you’l stil know my name.”

She laid her hand on his whiskered cheek. The pain in his eyes touched her deeply. She kissed him lightly, then snuggled against him.

He withdrew only enough so that he could spoon himself behind her. She rested her head on his biceps as he cradled her tenderly. Her heart pounding with joy, she listened to him breathe.

He lifted his head, kissed her cheek, then settled down with one hand buried in her hair.

Within a few minutes, he was sound asleep. It was the most peaceful moment of her life. Deep in her heart she knew that tonight Wulf had shown her a side of himself that he had let no one else see.

He was gruff and stern. But in her arms, he was a tender lover. And in the back of her mind was the thought that she could learn to love a man like this. It wouldn’t be hard.

Cassandra lay quietly in the stil ness of the early morning. She wasn’t sure what time it was, only that Wulf warmed a part of her she hadn’t realized was cold until now.

She wondered as she lay there how many centuries Wulf had been confined to an area like this one. He had told her that this house was only a little over a hundred years old.

Looking around, she tried to imagine what it would be like to be here alone, day after day, decade after decade.

It must be lonely for him.

She reached down and placed her hand on her bel y as she tried to imagine the baby there. Would it be a boy or girl? Fair in color like her or dark like its father?

She would most likely never know the baby’s real hair color. Most children’s baby hair fel out and it wasn’t until they were toddlers that you could tel .

By then she would be dead. Dead before its first tooth. Its first step or word.

She would never know her child at al .

Don’t cry
. ..

But she couldn’t help it.

“Cassandra?”

She didn’t answer Wulf’s sleepy cal . Her voice would betray her if she did.

He rol ed her over as if he knew she was crying and pul ed her into his arms. “Don’t cry.”

“I don’t want to die, Wulf,” she sobbed against his chest. “I don’t want to leave my baby. There’s so much I need to tel him. He won’t even know that I ever existed.” Wulf tightened his grip on her as he heard those heartfelt words.

How he wished he could tel her how foolish her fears were, but they weren’t. She cried over a fate neither of them could change.

“We have time, Cassandra. Tel me al your stories about you, your mother, and your sisters, and I’l make sure the baby knows every one of them. And every baby after this one. I won’t let them forget you. Ever.”

“Promise?”

“I swear to you, just as I swear I’l keep them safe forever.” His words seemed to calm her. Rocking her gently in his arms, Wulf wondered which of them had it worse.

The mother who wouldn’t live to see the baby grow, or the father who was damned to watch the baby and al those after him die.

For three solid weeks, Wulf kept Chris and Cassandra under house arrest. But as time went by and no Daimons showed, he began to wonder if maybe he wasn’t overreacting a bit.

Thor knew Chris accused him of it at least five times an hour.

Cassandra had withdrawn from school entirely even though she hated to. She was only about three weeks along, but looked more like three months. Her stomach was rounding out, letting them al know that there real y was a child inside her.

It was the most beautiful thing Wulf had seen, even as he struggled to keep himself emotional y distant from her.

But it was hard. Especial y as they spent so much of their time together taping her for their baby. Most of the time, she was perfectly calm as she told the baby about her past, her mother and sisters. Her father.

With every fond memory she shared with the baby, he felt himself growing closer to her.

“See, this,” she said, as she showed her hand with the signet ring on it to the smal camcorder he held.

Wulf focused the lens on it. “My mother told me that this was the actual wedding ring the Atlantean kings used when they married.”

Cassandra looked at it sadly. “I’m not sure how it survived al these centuries. My mother gave it to my father so that he could give it to me. I’l make sure your father has it to give to you too.” Whenever she talked about the baby’s future without her, it kil ed a part of him. The injustice of it tore his heart into pieces.

The pain in her eyes, the regret.

And whenever she cried, it hurt him even more. He would soothe her as best he could, but in the end they both knew what the outcome of al this would be.

There was no way to stop it.

Her father came often during the daylight hours to meet with her. Cassandra didn’t have her father meet Wulf since her father wouldn’t remember him anyway.

For that he was truly grateful.

Instead, Cassandra introduced her father to Chris and they made plans for the two of them to stay in touch after the baby came.

Acheron had cal ed on Mardi Gras night and put Wulf on an immediate leave from his Dark-Hunter duties to watch over Cassandra and protect the baby. Two more Dark-Hunters had been transferred to St. Paul to take over Wulf’s usual patrols and to help keep watch should Stryker or the others come after them.

Ash had also given him the name of an Apol ite Dark-Hunter named Spawn who might be able to help them with what Cassandra needed for her pregnancy. Wulf had cal ed every night to leave a message at Spawn’s house, but Spawn had yet to respond.

Nor had he been able to reach Acheron again.

His phone rang.

Cassandra watched as Wulf pul ed his phone out of his pocket and answered it. She knew he was worried and not just about her and Chris. His best friend, Talon, had vanished and none of the Dark-Hunters had had any contact with him in weeks.

Even more concerning, Acheron had also gone MIA. Wulf kept tel ing her it was a bad omen, even though Kat told them not to worry about it. Apparently Acheron was rather famous for having times when no one could reach him.

Kat had assured them that Artemis would never al ow anyone to hurt Acheron. If he had been harmed, they would al know it.

Cassandra sat on the floor with Chris and Kat, playing Life. They had tried to play Trivial Pursuit earlier only to learn that a Dark-Hunter and an immortal handmaiden to a goddess had a decidedly unfair advantage over Cassandra and Chris.

In Life, the only thing that mattered was luck.

“Wel , I’l be damned,” Wulf said a few minutes later after he hung up the phone and rejoined the game.

“Something happen?” Cassandra asked as she moved her piece.

“Talon got his soul back.”

“No friggin’ way,” Chris blurted out, sitting back on the floor in shock. “How’d he do that?” Wulf’s face was impassive, but Cassandra had grown to know him wel enough to see the tenseness of his features. He was happy for his friend, but she could tel he was also a bit envious. Not that she blamed him.

“He met an artist and they fel in love,” Wulf said as he sat back down beside her and adjusted his play money. “On Mardi Gras, she got his soul back and freed him.” Chris made a disgusted noise at Wulf’s announcement. “Oh man, that sucks. Now he’s going to have to join Kyrian on the geriatric patrol.”