Taken by Moonlight (39 page)

“It won’t
happen, Vivienne.” Again, he was using his authoritative voice, the voice that
said if anyone argued with him the person had better be prepared to meet him
outside, or wherever.

“Because
you won’t allow it.” It wasn’t a question. She knew he wouldn’t give Samia the
blood rite. She also knew Samia wasn’t going to stop demanding one. Vivienne
wasn’t sure exactly how long she would be staying here—she passed a guilty look
to Conall—but she wasn’t planning on bickering and arguing with Samia every
step of the way.

“What does
that mean?” he demanded.

She cleared
her mind again, fighting the urge to shake her head. They were going to have to
set up some rules about mind-reading.

“Seriously,
can you please stay out of my mind unless we’re…
you know
?”

 His face
relaxed, and an arrogant brow went up even as his lips curved. “I know? What do
I know? Tell me, Vivienne. I should stay out of your mind unless we’re…?”

Making
love?
His voice
caressed her like a lover’s touch. Instantly, her nipples peaked.
Fucking?
She shivered, feeling heat pool between her legs at the coarseness of his
words.

“Yes. That.
So stay out of my mind unless we’re doing
that
.” She sounded breathless,
probably because he was across the table, robbing her of it.

“You said
you weren’t planning on fighting Samia every step of the way.”

She
regained control of her body. “I never said that. You read my mind
again
.”

He ignored
the chastising last word. “What did you mean?”

“That I’ll
stay out of her way,” she replied easily, shrugging her shoulders as if it
didn’t matter. She was going to stay away from Samia, but she was almost
certain Samia wouldn’t return the favor.

Conall
stared at her for a long time, and then his body relaxed and he picked up his
fork.

Vivienne
looked at his plate, where a barely touched ribeye steak and a large serving of
mashed potatoes and gravy lay. It was probably cold by now. Standing, she made
her way over to him, and sat on his lap. Sitting across from a naked Conall had
been wreaking havoc on her senses from the moment she’d started eating, but
with her stomach appeased, and their subsequent conversation on making love,
she was feeling only one thing.
Need.

The fork
fell from his fingers as his hands closed around her waist. He pressed his face
into her neck. Something poked at her back, and Vivienne felt an answering
surge of heat rush through her body. She almost forgot the reason she’d sat on
his lap, instead of dragging him to the floor.

Regaining
control of her wits, she picked up his fork, stuck it into the mashed potatoes,
and lifted it to his lips. They parted and she placed the fork against his
tongue, pulling it back only when his lips had closed over it.

Feeling
bold, she touched her tongue to the fork. “Good?” she asked softly, licking at
the tines of the fork once more.

Conall’s
eyes darkened and she smiled secretly, turning around to get another serving.
This time, she placed the fork in her mouth, savoring the taste of the creamy
potatoes with black pepper, parsley and a pinch of salt. Removing the fork, she
held it out to him, feeling her nipples tighten when he slowly licked the
tines.

Vivienne
turned back to the mashed potatoes, intent on scooping up some more and feeding
it to him, but a hand snaked out and caught it. After a slight tug and flick of
his wrist, she heard the fork land somewhere against the tiled floor.

“Aren’t you
hungry, Conall?” She was surprised to hear the blatant seduction in her voice.
She’d never wanted to seduce anyone before, so she’d never practiced, but she’d
be lying if she said she didn’t want to seduce him every time she saw him. Or
be seduced by him.

He didn’t
answer; his eyes told her what she needed to know. They flashed yellow moments
before he pushed the chair back and pulled her against his body, effectively
dragging her to her feet. When his lips crashed down on hers, she strained up
against him, parting her lips for the deep thrust of his tongue.

Oh God, the
man tasted…sinful! Addictively sinful. Too good. His hands slipped into her
underwear and the running tights that clung to her, cupping her bottom and
heisting against his jutting hardness.

Vivienne
moaned, and whimpered when his lips moved from hers. He quickly pushed her
underwear and tights off. On his knees before her, he parted her thighs, and
caressed her with his tongue. Head falling backward, she gripped his hair,
holding him to her as a raging orgasm washed over her.

Conall came
up like a great beast ready to devour her—which he was—and easily moved her
back until she was wedged between his body and the counter. A rock and a hard
place. His lips touched the side of her neck before he nipped lightly at the
spot.

“Which one
am I?” he half-growled, and Vivienne was so submerged in the pleasure that when
he lifted his head and raised a brow, she could only stare at him in confusion.

“Rock or
hard place?”

His hands
slid under the tank top, and she lifted her hands, allowing him to pull it off.
Conall took a step back, staring at her with those intense yellow eyes before
he visibly calmed himself.

Against her
will, Vivienne remembered what Samia had said about Conall exerting control
when he was with her. She didn’t want his control. She wanted all of him.
Stepping forward, she wrapped one arm about his neck and molded her naked body
to his. She ran her tongue along his lips, and used her free hand to touch his
length. She did so gingerly at first, but his uneven breathing encouraged her,
and she found herself clasping him in her fist, moving her hand along the thick
appendage.

“Definitely
the hard place,” she whispered.

The moment
those words left her lips, she was spun around, and instinctively planted the
palms of her hands against the smooth countertop. A brief jolt of modesty
rushed through her. She was standing naked in the kitchen with Conall while God
knew who else was in the house. Modesty slipped far away when Conall’s sex
nudged her, parting her outer lips as the bulbous head slid down to her swollen
nub. She arched her back, pushing squirming until his hands clasped her hips
and held her steady.

His scent,
high on the air, touched her nostrils and she whimpered. When he pushed into
her, Vivienne groaned, biting into her bottom lip as he stretched her. He
stopped, his grip tightening on her hips. Slowly, he pulled out, only to delve
deeper.

She gasped,
her hand moving to grasp his hip. Conall held tight to his control, moving
slowly and easily, sliding into her inch by inch.

Touch
me,
she whispered
into his mind, moving eagerly with him as he thrust forward.

His hands
went to her breasts, squeezing before tweaking the sensitive nipples.

I’m so
hot, Conall—please
…
harder.

His hands
tightened against her, and he groaned. She pushed against him, feeling
something larger nudge her entrance. Her eyes widened. What was that?

“Vivienne…,”
his voice was gravelly, and he sounded like he was giving her a warning.

“Pin me,”
she murmured in response, unsure of what that meant but certain that whatever
it was, she’d enjoy it if he was her partner.

He halted,
still rigid in her body. “What—what did you say?”

Shifting
slightly to look over her shoulder at him, Vivienne wiggled her bottom, sighing
at the delicious feeling with him still buried inside her, and repeated her
request. “Pin me, Conall.”

A
nanosecond later, he’d pulled out, and she was being half-carried, half-dragged
somewhere. The living room. The lights were off, and she didn’t feel
self-conscious when he lowered her to the plush carpet, pulling her up so she
was on all fours before him.

His finger
slipped into her so suddenly, she gasped. Before she could savor the feeling,
he removed it, and thrust into her.

She
screamed.

Conall
stilled, his fingers loosening their hold on her hips.
Did I hurt you?

She shook
her head, unable to form a coherent thought besides,
More.

He reared
back, and the following thrusts were even more powerful than the first. Her
body jolted forward as he came up against her thighs, and she dug her fingers
into the carpet, loving the wildness of this joining. Her muscles clamped up
and she felt her orgasm take her. Her body lurched forward and down, but
Conall’s hand held her secured. His chest came down against her, and she felt
his breath against his shoulder. Instinctively, she knew what he wanted to do.

Please,
I want
…
everything.

His tongue
traced her shoulder, and he managed to plant a gentle kiss before he bit down.
Vivienne cried out, pain mingling with pleasure as his hard thrusts continued.
She tried to shift her body slightly, but a warning growl erupted from him.
Shifting her head, she stared into his yellow eyes.

She gasped
as the swollen base of his cock demanded entry. Reaching between her legs, his
fingers circled her bud even as he rammed forward. She squirmed, and he growled
again. Conall thrust forward once more, stretching her body to take more of
him. One part of her was terrified, fearing he was too large, that she wouldn’t
be able to take him, but the other part wanted it, demanded more. It was that
part that took control. She pushed back eagerly, feeling the wet slide as he
came into her. He pulled out and thrust to the hilt once, twice before she felt
the warm spurts of his seed as he released.

Exhausted,
her knees gave out, and she felt his weight come down on her.

When her
breath evened, she quipped, “So that’s what it feels like to be pinned.”

A hand went
to her belly, and Conall rolled to his side, keeping himself within her. “Yes.”

His
response wasn’t the one she wanted, and Vivienne tried to pull away to face
him. She cried out as a slight pinch rushed through her center, and Conall’s
hands secured her waist, holding her steady.

“What?” she
asked breathlessly, moving her hand down to where they were still joined. She
moved her hips gingerly, feeling the fullness still within her.

He nuzzled
her neck, kissing her shoulder as his fingers moved down to pet her intimately.
“I won’t be able to leave you for a few more minutes. It happens whenever males
of our species pin females.”

How?
She didn’t ask but her brain was
swirling with possibilities.

“Although
we look human, we are different,” he spoke softly. “When we near our release,
the base of our…
anatomy
…swells, which allows us to pin our females.”

Her body
heated at Conall’s explanation, but she felt a surge of anger at the thought
that he could have done something so intimate with someone else. Not just
anyone else: Samia.

“How many
women have you pinned?” As soon as the question left her mouth, she wanted to
take it back. It shouldn’t matter, he was hers now, but Samia’s taunts were
sending her into a jealous frenzy she didn’t quite like.

“One.” The
answer was immediate.

“You don’t
have to lie to me. It doesn’t really matter—”

His hands
tightened around her waist. “I’ve only pinned one person, Vivienne, and that’s
you. I shouldn’t have done it that first time, but I couldn’t control myself.”

Her brows
lifted. What was he talking about?

“You didn’t
forget, did you?” he murmured, and a vivid image of them came into her mind.

They were
in the hotel. She was on her hands and knees, and he was behind her. She was
pleading, saying she couldn’t, that it was too much, but he was persistent,
arousing her to a state of frenzy, and then he’d…pinned her. She remembered.
How could she have forgotten?

“Why do you
ask?”

“Nothing. I
was curious.”

He moved,
pulling his hips away from hers slowly. He slid out with a wet plop, leaving
Vivienne with a feeling of emptiness. She had little time to ponder that for he
pushed her onto her back and came over her.

“You were
jealous.”

He kissed her,
dipping his tongue into her mouth as his hand slipped between her thighs. The
man was insatiable. As she parted her thighs, she knew that when it came to
him, she was probably more so. He drew his fingers over her sensitive sex and
she shivered, trying to remember the last thing he’d said.

“I was
not—”

“You have
nothing to be jealous of,
alainn
.”

A long
finger invaded her body and she moaned, lifting her hips and clutching at the
digit. Okay, she was jealous. She was extremely,
extremely
—God that felt
good—jealous.

His lips
traced hers. “Nothing at all.” With that, he pushed forward, beginning another
journey that would lead them both to ecstasy.