Mistwalker (35 page)

“Shit.” He thought he heard the wood crack. 

She shuddered and keened. “There was nothing at Ravenkeep.”

Too late, he remembered he also hadn’t fed. He wouldn’t be able to hold back. Her animal was coming out. His heart pounded, and his hands trembled as they smoothed over her arms. If she tasted him here, he didn’t think he would be able restrain himself. He’d dreamed of her and knew she didn’t want him biting her. “Perhaps
we should go somewhere else. I will be able to—”

She leapt at him, her fangs flashing in the pale bathroom light, her long red hair framing her face.

He reeled.

The doorknob bit into his back. For someone not even close to his size, royal blood made her so incredibly strong. His hands gripped her butt, grinding her up against his groin. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he groaned. The zipper of his pants imprinted on his rock hard flesh.

Her head tipped back, and her fangs shot out to their full length. “I can’t stop.” She sounded like she was almost pleading with him.

He exhaled a shaky breath then stared into her starlit eyes. “Do not even bother on my account. Drink from me, love. Drink your fill. Take as much as you need.”

Tears filled her eyes, and she smiled, and then gasped. Her irises fired into dark green, turning her into a siren, and then she sunk her fangs into his neck before he could utter another word.

She pulled his blood into her mouth, moaning loud and long; the sound reverberating against his flesh in the tiny space. She struggled for desperate purchase over his body, ripped apart his shirt, and then she slid her hot little hands over his thudding heart.

The world spun out of control. Thrills darted straight up and down his spine, and he swayed. He panted, groaned, his hands climbing up beneath her shirt to cup and play with her lush breasts and tease those sweet nipples. He leaned forward, his teeth lengthening, all set to taste and devour.

She pushed him back again, and his head slammed against the door. He lunged at her and gripped her wrists. He hugged her tighter, heaving for breath.

“Simone.” His voice rattled.
“Please…”

But he didn’t know what he begged for. He couldn’t tell her to continue, and he didn’t want her to stop. Her hips rolled against his, slow and deliberate as though every inch of him set her alight, her wet and fiery tongue lashed in a smooth, hard and constant suction, drawing his blood into her mouth before swallowing eagerly.

His gaze focused on her hipster jeans as they rode low, and his fingers spread wide across the top curve of her cute ass. His hands slid further down inside the denim and beneath the black lace of her panties to the warmth of her sex, and she flung both arms around his neck, bucking against him with an urgent cry.

Her fiery hair cascaded to one side, exposing the vulnerable curve of her creamy neck and shoulder. Her nails trailed down his skin, capturing his neck against her mouth.

“Simone.” His knees buckled, and he slid down the door. “I don’t think I can…”

Her hand tip-toed down his chest, trickling liquid fire in his veins as her fingers slid down to the ridge of hard flesh beneath his pants.

Holy shit.

She breathed out a cloud of warm air against his neck and then sucked harder.

His brain stopped working. He blinked, discovering that he lay on a bed in a strange room that smelled enticingly of her shampoo, her soft skin and sweet perfume.

She let go of him for a second and climbed on top of his waist, arching her back, her hair falling around her shoulders in a silky curtain while her hands pinned his wrists, and her nails dug sharply into his wrists. Her skin became warm, and her arms and legs straightened with her groan of pleasure.

He got a face-full of her delicious breasts. This, surely, was heaven.

“Oh, my perfect darling,” he breathed in total wonder. He shot forward and nabbed a rosy nipple with his teeth. The flesh pebbled, and he laved it gently with his tongue, rolling the firm nub in an endless sucking motion like she’d done to his neck, driving them both insane.

*You’re under the control of the hunger,*
he said helplessly on their mind-link.
*Feeding makes you want sex.*

Muscles strained in her neck, and she looked down at him again, her hair falling over his cheek, her eyes flashing to a deep dark green before she shook her head. She jerked, shuddered and rolled her hips on top of him.
*Can’t stop,*
she said.

He sucked harder at her nipples, tasting, devouring with an intense passion until her eyes opened wide again in an unrelenting ecstasy, and she stared down at him in delirious pleasure, her teeth dripping wet with his blood. She shook, sliding along his body, licked her lips and swallowed hard, then her eyes closed, and she
became absolutely rigid, squeezing him hard between her thighs.

*Juliun,*
she screamed on their mind-link. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and her neck arched, exposing the side of her throat. Moisture pooled against his jeans and heightened the warmth from her body. He panted for breath.

His erection strained against the juncture of her thighs. “Oh
baby. Hold tight
…”

She sighed dreamily and rubbed the seam of her tight denims against him in a slow, rocking motion and lifted his tattered shirt, pressing hot, sweet kisses against his skin.

A sudden crash echoed outside the door, and she stiffened, lifting her head. She stared for long seconds at the door, and then her eyes slowly lightened to the sunlit green he loved so much. She stared down at him then, her eyes wide with obvious shock and deep horror.

She released him in an instant, but he reached for her wrists before she could escape.

“It is okay,” he said, breathing harshly from the desire running rampant through his body. “You can let yourself go on me anytime. I am safe. It’s okay. I loved it. You are safe with me.”

Her cheeks pinkened, and she squeezed her thighs around his legs and rocked back. Her bare feet tangled with his legs. She scrambled to stand beside the bed with a marked wobble.

“I’ve never…felt anything…” she stammered for breath. “You tasted
so
good,” she choked out and leaned on the bed for support, staring at the mark on his neck, desire still in her eyes. “
Oh,
that’s what you taste like.”

He laughed and swung his legs over the side of the bed, shifting his thighs wide. Her gaze fell to the thrust of his arousal, and he felt himself growing stiffer beneath her regard. “More than you expected?”

Heat climbed up to her ears, and her lush mouth parted with a small ‘o’.

He laughed again. “You need to lick the wound; otherwise it will not heal properly. When you do, think of healing me.”

“I get to lick you?” Her eyes glittered so bright, the stars were dull. “This keeps getting better and better,” she whispered, her face drawing near, her reddened lips like the juiciest cherries. She struggled for breath and closed her eyes.
*Healing you.*
She leaned down, her soft hair brushing his neck, and her hot tongue swept over the bite.

He dug his hands into the soft mattress to stop himself from grabbing her and throwing her back onto the bed to ravish her senseless. The unforgettable sweet scent of her washed over him.

She rose and trembled at the edge of the bed.

“I will get rid of them.” He jerked his head to the door. “And give you a chance to recover.”

She stepped away from him and shook her head. “I can do it myself.” She dropped her trembling hands to her sides, and an awkwardness overcame her motions. “I don’t know what to say. You came just in time. I didn’t want to leave them alone in my apartment, and there was no blood at Ravenkeep. I was in agony.”

“You do not have to say anything.” He smiled deep into her eyes, pleased that she had resisted Raoul and Altair at all. It would’ve been the hardest thing on earth for a newly changed to stay away from an offered vein. And he had no doubt the vampires were offering.

He smoothed away the hair from her flushed face. “I loved it.”
I love you.
“You are the first to feed from me. My blood is yours.” He stood up and stalked toward the door, casting one long look her way. “And I
will
take care of your unwanted guests, love.”

She blushed again, but he caught a sneaking smile curving her lips. “Thank you.”

“I will see you back home.” He grinned and opened the door, striding down the hall to the living room, feeling a thousand feet high. The two male vampires wore frozen, mutinous expressions. Who knows how much they heard and who cared? Not him.

Juliun picked up the ripped remains of shirt and laughed, trying to set it over his shoulder, but the fabric fell back down. He couldn’t wipe the wicked grin from his face. He strode to the door of the apartment, but before he left, he faded to mist and appeared at the Eiffel Tower, his hands deep in his trouser pockets.

Altair and Raoul took form beside him and gazed at Juliun with narrowed eyes. They didn’t say anything. The mortal tourists turned suddenly, staring at the three of them, no doubt wondering where they’d come from.

“This is your first and final warning.” Juliun popped his jaw. “Next time it will be a place where no one will ever find you.”

Chapter
Thirty-Eight

Simone had no idea drinking Juliun’s blood would give her such a soul-shattering orgasm. What would it be like to have sex with him? And how on earth had he lived so long without drinking from another? The world refused to right itself. Her knees and legs wobbled, and her heart skipped erratically. She stumbled, swayed, and then fell on the edge of the bed in the dreamy grip of her post-orgasm hangover.

She flung out her arms over her head and trembled on the duvet. She couldn’t get up and didn’t want to. He’d tasted fantastic.
Absolutely bloody incredible.

She imagined him standing over her, stripped to the waist, the hard sinews of his powerful arms bunching as he grabbed her, his strong chest narrowing down to a hard abdomen and…sweet heaven. She shivered in anticipation at what would’ve happened if there hadn’t been unwelcome guests in her apartment.

The spicy scent of Juliun’s skin lingered everywhere, and she remembered his slow, hot smile that turned his face into something lethal. The feral, naked gleam of hunger and intent in his light, unsettling eyes.

She conjured up his intimidating face and the way the sharp angles melted with his look of magnificent rapture, the feel of his heart galloping as she sunk her teeth into his skin.
His taste.
Sweet mercy
. She could orgasm again simply thinking about it.

She’d tried to deny her attraction because of what he was, who he was, but she couldn’t will her body to feel nothing. No more than she could control her reaction to his blood.

He was dangerous.
The possible risk to her heart and emotions was not from the chance he could destroy her feelings. Oh no, she could stop that. She’d spent her whole life forming barriers. It was his subtle assault for something so deep within her, something buried, of letting herself go completely.

To give all and lose again didn’t bear thinking about.

Long ago, lying in a hospital bed and told by social workers she would be living in an orphanage, she’d lost her childhood trust in people. Her willpower in the ability to trust in herself.

Over the next twenty years, she’d done everything to ensure she would be able to cope with the emotionless, dog-eat-dog world she found herself in. She’d grown hard and learned quickly who her true friends were.

When the hunger had come upon her, she hadn’t known how to handle it at first, but exerted her mind to fight the urge. Too late, she realised her vampire guests knew she was newly changed, hungry and vulnerable.

They sat with their arms extended, palms up, displaying the network of veins beneath their pale skin.

Their move was too easy to counter—mentally at least. She threw up a wall around her mind. But her body rebelled, her stomach twisting in agony. She’d never experienced such pain, as if she were dying. Death would have been a release.

Juliun rescued her and asked for nothing in return.

She dragged her feet against that inevitability. The leap into his world which was too much, too fast.

Had he experienced the wild sexual satiation she had? But how could he? He hadn’t orgasmed or ripped off her clothes like a maniac to have sex with her…no matter how much she’d wanted him to at the time…and if she could view their being together as simply sex and not some kind of bonding.

How to keep her emotions separate? There were too many conflicts and needs wrapped up in him, and she didn’t know how to fight her way through. Mainly because she didn’t understand what she wanted and which direction to head. Leave or stay? Friendly distance or intimacy? Her hard-earned combat skills were as useful as a paper bag against a tsunami.

She thought it would be his strength toward her that would be her
undoing. But it was all of him. Everything he was. His affection, his understanding, the way he soothed her and respected her independence. The way he helped her be
more
when everything was collapsing around her
.