Master of Darkness (11 page)

When she would have moved back to settle herself on him, his hands came around her waist. The next thing she knew, she was on her back. He loomed over her, large, male, dangerous. His long silver hair brushed sensually against her breasts, sending flickering fire through her nerve endings.

Then his head swooped down. She saw a flash of fang, and fear surged through her. But he only kissed the tip of her nose. It reminded her that he'd said he liked it, and fear melted into a feeling of being cherished.

The adrenaline rush remained.

It heightened the sensations of his hands on her body. His caresses were gentle, slow and thorough. So were the kisses that accompanied them, on her mouth, her cheeks and throat. He drew blood with one tiny nip, and slowly licked the drop away while she arched in a long, shuddering orgasm.

“Sweet,” she murmured, coming down.

His chuckle was soft in her ear, his warm breath tantalizing. “Just getting started.”

She lay beneath him, boneless, satiated.

Then the caresses began again and she realized that she was nowhere near satiated.

His mouth was on her breast, his tongue slowly circling the puckered nipple as she languidly
combed her fingers through the thick silkiness of his long, long hair. It was unfashionable; it was wonderful.

“I'm still stuck in the eighties, I guess,” he said, lifting his head briefly.

She didn't think she'd spoken, and didn't think he'd read her mind. It was the gesture he'd interpreted. Then her thoughts drifted away on a rising tide of sensation. His mouth moved from her breast down to her belly, then lower still.

Her thighs fell open for him. His head dipped between her legs; the touch of his tongue brought heaven. She squirmed and writhed, and came, and came again, going higher each time. She begged him to stop—and to never stop—but the only sounds that came from her were raw moans.

Then he moved up her body and slid deep inside her, wringing another orgasm from her. He groaned as her inner muscles rippled around his thick length.

She almost couldn't bear it when he began to move, thrusting into her hard and fast. It took her breath away; it flamed in her blood and made her think of lava boiling through her veins.

“Who needs volcanoes?” she heard herself say.

From a great distance, she heard him laugh once more. She laughed with him.

For some reason the shared humor joined them together in a way deeper than physical. Not that the physical wasn't marvelous.

Especially when his rhythm increased to the point that sent them both over the edge.

It took her so hard, and Eden was so caught up in the glory of it, that she passed right out.

Chapter Twelve

“I
have a headache,” Laurent murmured.

“You're lucky,” Eden mumbled against the vampire's chest. “You've no idea how sore I'm going to be in the morning—evening.” With actions came consequences.

“It's already evening.”

“Whenever. And I'm the one who's supposed to have the headache—before the deed.”

“Right. Shouldn't you be reeling from guilt about now?”

“It is impossible to reel in this position.”

He patted her on the back and let his hand slide down to cup her slightly raised butt. “I guess.”

She probably looked ludicrous, but she was really comfortable. Her head was resting over his heart, which was beating with a slow, inhuman rhythm that should have been disconcerting, but wasn't. His other arm was around her, strong as a steel band, and his fingers toyed gently with the short hair at the back of her neck.

She didn't know when they'd changed positions, or how long she'd been asleep. She was both weary and rested. It had been a while since she'd been with a man, and the aftermath had never been this good.

As she came more awake, she realized that he was right: this was the time when she should be feeling guilty, or at least chagrined. After all, she'd been trained to resist the seductive blandishments that were second nature to a vampire. She searched her conscience, though not very deeply, and discovered that she was feeling just fine.

“Headache,” he repeated. “And I hate to be so impolite as to inquire, but what the hell are you doing in here? Not that I'm complaining—or trying to sound unchivalrous.”

Eden lifted her head to look him in the eyes and saw that he was the one who was faintly embarrassed. There was pain there as well, physical and spiritual. But he blinked, and nothing of his soul was showing a moment later.

“You were having a nightmare. Your shouting woke me up,” she told him. “I was trying to
bring you out of it, and…things happened. Don't you remember?”

He gazed into the distance and looked intently thoughtful for a while. A bit of the pain returned to his eyes. “I was having a flashback,” he corrected. His hand traced down her back, sending a pleasurable shiver through her. “Thanks for bringing me out of it.”

She wondered what sort of memory could have provoked Wolf's tortured reaction.

But before she could, he said, “Don't ask.”

“That's not fair.”

“Such is life. About this headache—”

Eden sat up, and immediately missed the closeness. She quickly went to the living room and shut off the device on the computer desk. She glanced over her shoulder as she did so, expecting Wolf to follow her and make some accusatory remark. But he remained in the bedroom.

Maybe she'd worn him out. Or maybe it was the headache …

Which was her fault. Maybe so was the nightmare.

Now a twist of guilt went through her. Not some residual angst over having had sex with a vampire. Oh, no—despite the rules and regs, she could barely keep from smiling like a cat with cream on her face over that.

But she wasn't smiling when she went back into his bedroom. She realized that she shouldn't go back, and she was well aware of being naked. But she went and stood in the doorway anyway, leaning against it, arms crossed under her breasts. The room itself was dim, but there was light coming in from the hallway, falling across the bed. The nude vampire was sitting with his back propped up by pillows, looking even more glorious than she remembered—and she hadn't exactly been gone that long.

She looked him over, and he looked her over. And she finally dipped her head and said, “Sorry about that.”

He rubbed his temples. “I thought we had an agreement about that zapper thing.”

It wasn't exactly an accusation, but he definitely didn't sound happy. It made her feel like she'd disappointed him.

“I was scared they'd come and get me,” she admitted, knowing this wasn't something a hunter should admit to a vampire. She gestured toward the bed, the movement taking in everything that had happened there. “I was as scared as you were.”

She waited for him to deny his own fears, but he was honest enough to keep quiet.

“A couple of nights of fighting vampires got
to me,” she went on. “I wanted to sleep feeling safe. So I gave you a headache—and probably your bad dream.”

“
I'm
here to keep you safe.”

Laurent was totally surprised at the conviction of his words. He
was
disappointed that she hadn't trusted or depended on him. It was like he was channeling the Clan Prime he was pretending to be.

“We're partners,” he reminded her.

The words came out of his mouth as if he really meant it, and a part of him panicked. And he'd tasted her when they'd had sex, hadn't he? She already had his blood in her, and now he had hers. That was not supposed to happen! If you tasted a female, you
never
gave her your blood—ever, ever, ever! That led to—

Complications.

He groaned and clutched at his temples.

“Are you okay? How's your head?”

Eden's guilty concern was almost too much for him to bear. When she moved toward him, he should have told her to stay away. But he couldn't do it. He wanted her near him.

It was no more than a drop or two, he reassured himself. Not enough to make a connection.

Because he
really
didn't want to have to kill her.

Luckily she wasn't in the least bit psychic, so forming a connection between them would take more than just sharing blood once or twice, right?

He could only guess at how long it took for—he mentally gritted his teeth—
a bond
to form. This was the sort of information Clan and Family Primes were given as they reached puberty—they probably had mortal/vampire sex ed classes. Tribe Primes were only taught how to use blood sharing and torture to turn mortals into blood slaves.

He didn't want a slave. And a bondmate was out of the question. He wasn't even sure which behavior was sicker: bonding or breaking. But bonding was
certainly
a sign of weakness.

But you've always been weak,
the memory of Justinian's voice whispered in his mind.

“We can't get involved,” he said as she sat on the edge of the bed. Yet even as he spoke, he reached out to touch her.
Weak
.

It was just the merest fingertip caress down the length of her arm. He relished the gesture, though he didn't mean to do it. The texture of her warm, sleek skin rattled him with instant desire.

Somehow their fingers ended up twined together,
hands resting on the rumpled sheet. He liked being spoiled, so taking his hand away took more effort than it would have taken one of the good guys.

“I'm sorry, Eden.”

He supposed that to her he sounded like a self-sacrificing Clan prig, because the smile she turned on him was rich with irony. “You just said that we're partners.”

“You're naked,” he pointed out.

Raising one eyebrow, she looked him over slowly and deliberately. For the first time in his life, he blushed, and he was all too aware of a growing erection.

He flipped the edge of a sheet over his hips—not that this hid anything, with the way the cloth tented up over his erection.

She looked at his modestly covered crotch and grinned. That was the last thing he expected from the tough vampire hunter. But it wasn't like he'd hypnotized her into wanting him. Maybe she just wanted him because she
wanted
him. What was humming between them had nothing to do with psychic energy.

“Madam,” he said. “You are taking advantage of my vulnerable—”

“Do you know how positively Victorian you sound?”

“Do you know how positively glorious your breasts are?”

Screw it!

He pulled her forward and buried his face between her glorious breasts. Why was he trying to think when there was an obviously willing female on the bed?

He spent the next few minutes exploring Eden's breasts, before she pulled back the sheet and took his cock in her hand.

“Oh, yeah,” he murmured, and leaned back and closed his eyes.

This was pure, simple sex. Sharing pleasure on this basic level couldn't get either of them into trouble.

Her mouth dipped to cover the tip of his penis. Her tongue swirled, and he groaned.

“You like this,” she said.

Oh, yes, he liked it very much.

For a while he rode the sensations as she stroked and sucked him from base to tip, over and over again. The whole world centered on the way she was bringing him to the edge.

When he was nearly ready to explode, she changed positions. Her hand still grasped his cock, but only until she guided him inside her. She took him in slowly, buried him in soft, wet heat, surrounded him.

Completed him.

Damn
.

He put one hand on her hip to steady her and found her breasts with the other.
Sensation. Just go with sensation
.

He stroked her thighs and her belly and her fine, firm ass as she rode him, in awe of every inch of her sweet curves and hard muscles. She controlled this ecstasy, and he let her. She did what she wanted, and everything she wanted brought him pleasure.

“That's right, have your way with me, you wicked wench.”

She laughed, the sound breathless and sexy. Then her breath caught, and her back arched, and he felt the orgasm ripple through her all along the length of his shaft, taking him up over the edge. The explosive release left him dumb and blind.

And for a moment, completely happy.

Chapter Thirteen

“T
his was a bad idea.” She was still resting on top of him, her forehead on his chest. He didn't know how long they'd been like this. Her voice was muffled, but he had no trouble understanding her. “I am such a fool.”

He patted her shoulder, but didn't offer any reassurance. “Yes.”

She lifted her head and met his gaze with a glare. “Protection,” she said. “Why the hell didn't one of us think of using protection? Do you have any condoms on you?”

Apparently she wasn't thinking along the same lines as he was. About this, he could reassure her. “It's okay. Do you know how long it takes a vampire to get a mortal pregnant?”

“Once.”

Shock ran through him, and he sputtered, “But—no—it doesn't—I don't think it works like that.”

“Has anyone told you about the birds and bees?”

Laurent took a deep breath as she looked at him accusingly. Her chin was resting on his breastbone, and the sensation was rather sharp. He thought this might be what a stake poised over his heart might feel like.

“Has anyone told you about vampires and mortals?” he ventured.

“I am a trained vampire hunter,” she pointed out. “Who is royally ignoring her training,” she added, and kissed the spot above his heart.

“We have to talk about that, Eden.”

She nodded. “As soon as you convince me I'm not going to get in the family way.”

He ruffled her hair. “Not likely. Mortals have to be bonded to a vampire for that.”

“I drank your blood.” She looked thoughtful, and added, “I think you drank mine.”