The 13th Step (2 page)

Which meant she was desperate for
something. He sucked in a shocked breath and laughed in her ear. "I'm
not a whore." If he'd ever held the upper hand with her before,
he hadn't known it. It was a heady feeling, intoxicating, and it
threw him into hard, full-fledged arousal with brutal efficiency. A
woman like Ella, at his mercy. It tripped every dominant alpha kink
hardwired in his brain, all the ones she usually catered to so
carefully. "What do you want? I might give it to you."

He knew he had her when she tried to
slip away. "Fuck you."

Blake stilled her with another low,
lusty growl. "You should know better than to run from a wolf,
honey." His traitorous hand moved up over her ribs, his
fingertips brushing the swell of one magnificent breast. "We
chase."

She moaned for him, and that sounded
real. She may have faked submission for him, but she'd never had to
pretend desire. He could smell her arousal, hear it in her too-quick
breaths, feel it in the hardness of her nipple. He gave in to
temptation and pinched it, tightened his fingers until her rough,
panting whimpers turned into a low keen.

There had been a time when he'd been
able to play her body almost as skillfully as she could play his
emotions. Maybe he hadn't forgotten
all
of the notes.

His cock ached so he stepped closer,
trapping her against the wall with his hips close against hers. "Tell
me what you want," he repeated as he shifted his hand to her
other nipple, grazing the taut nub with his thumb. "Why you
called me."

He could feel the tension in her
body, the inner struggle. He had no doubt she was scrambling for a
way to regain the upper hand, to put him back in his place. Her wolf,
her trained pet.

Not so trained anymore.

He felt her surrender in the sudden
passiveness of her body. Her head fell back against his shoulder, and
she rubbed her ass against his cock again. "I'm in over my head.
This guy I'm mixed up with... He's too powerful. I needed help. And
you. Your power."

Your blood.
She didn't have to say it to make his erection twitch in his jeans.
He'd never met a vampire with a stronger ability to cloud the mind,
to control it, than Ella. She could drain you dangerously dry and
you'd beg her not to stop. God knew he had on more than one occasion,
and the memories still assailed him sometimes. They woke him in the
night, kept him thrusting into his own clenched fist, thinking of his
blood on her tongue.

He shook himself, cursed the hungry,
unfocused look he knew he wore. "Only if you keep your fucking
mind games out of it. I gave that shit up when I left you." It
was a lie, but only a little one. None of the other vampires he'd
fucked had been able to come close to the kind of explosive, blinding
pleasure Ella could bring with a thought. With a bite.

"Fuck me first." The words
held a world of pleasure, of promise. She twisted between him and the
wall and raised her hands above her head again. This time, the blue
silk slipped off one breast, revealing pale flesh and one dark nipple
he knew would feel like heaven on his tongue. "I've been wet
since I laid eyes on you. If I take blood now, I'll make us both come
the second I taste you."

Blake trembled as he lowered his
lips to hers, meaning to invade her mouth, to conquer with teeth and
tongue. Somewhere between the thought and the action, the lines
between his brain and his body crossed again, just like they always
did when he touched Ella. As a result, he kissed her gently, with
every bit of the need that had built in him over the last two years.

His hands slid into her hair as his
tongue parted her lips and snagged on one of her fangs. He tasted
blood just as she did, and she went rigid, shuddered. Her heart rate,
normally sluggish, sped up almost to match his own, and he knew she
hadn't been lying. Just that tiny bit of his blood, his essence, had
nearly cost her the control she valued so much.

He wanted to howl.

He nearly ripped her pants in his
haste to get them open and push them down enough to get his hand
inside. He reached under expensive lace and found her hot and slick
inside the leather. A whispered curse escaped him, hissing out
against her lips as he stroked her pussy, fingers slipping easily
over her wet folds.

She made the most delicious noises
as he centered his touches on her clit. Tiny whimpers, muffled
against his lips and lost in his mouth, and each one shot straight to
his cock. He knew her noises, knew the fake ones and the artistic
exaggeration and all of the ways she tried to play him.

And he knew the noises she made when
she was about to come.

"Fuck." Blake reared back
and lifted her, pinning her up against the wall with his hip under
her leg. The change in position put her bared breasts within easy
reach, and he rolled his tongue around the tip of one with a needy
growl. When she gasped and arched, he caught her nipple in his mouth
and sucked hard, then pulled his hand away.

"Blake!" It was a curse
and a demand, rolled into one. Her fingers stabbed into his hair and
curled around the strands. She tugged his lips back to hers and
kissed him as she rocked against his thigh. "God, I missed
this," she whispered against his lips, an admission that was too
raw to be anything but real. "Why can't anyone else kiss like
you?"

He dragged his mouth from hers.
"Because no one else has loved you like I did." It wasn't
an admonition or a confession, just a statement of fact.

He stepped away from the wall,
bringing her with him, and looked around. A table sat against the
wall by an ice machine, and Blake laughed low in his throat. "Damn
leather pants. I can work around that."

"You always could work around
damn near anything." She nuzzled his neck and dragged her tongue
along his skin. Having her mouth there, teasing the pulse in his
throat, was almost too much.

He dropped her on the table and
straightened, staring down at her as he tugged on her pants. "If
I put my mind to it." The leather slid down her supple thighs to
tangle around her ankles, held there by the boots he hadn't removed.
"Bend your—"

He looked up into her eyes and
realized too late that he was back to asking, back to following her
lead, so he pressed her knees down toward the table. He gave her time
to resist, but she didn't. He knew she wouldn't.

Her breathing hitched again when he
tore the silk underwear from her hip and pushed them aside, exposing
her cunt. He swiped his thumb over her then licked away the wetness
that slicked his skin. "Want to run yet?"

"Maybe..." She wiggled a
little on the table, tested his grip, and laughed when he kept her
pinned in place. "Depends. What's gonna get me fucked the
fastest?"

"Nothing." He leaned over
and reached into the ice machine, pulled out a small piece of ice.
Ella wanted fast because she wanted to get him off and get him gone.
That wasn't part of his plans, so he touched the cube to her neck,
her nipples. "I want to feel you come under my tongue," he
told her before popping the cube in his mouth to melt.

A noise escaped her, something that
could have been surprise or excitement or maybe just a hint of
nervousness. He had the upper hand, and she knew it. Maybe hated it a
little, but not as much as she hated the fact that she wanted
everything he would do to her.

With the pants tangled around her
ankles it was easy to hold her in place, to keep her from pushing her
knees together. He had her trapped, on display, every glorious inch
of her, and the thrill of triumph raced through him when she pushed
her hips up a little in a silent plea.

Blake bent over her, his thumbs
rubbing circles into the soft skin of her inner thighs, closer and
closer to her cunt until he reached it and parted her. When he
lowered his mouth and slipped his tongue inside, she bucked off the
table with a hoarse curse. He grasped her hips and held them still.

God, he'd missed the taste of her,
how she felt like silk on his tongue. He wanted to devour her, to
make her scream his name. To make her forget everything but him and
the way he could make her feel. Her flesh was hot under his
ice-cooled mouth, and he fought for control. He wanted to climb up
her body, to sink his cock into her. He'd fuck her until they were
both crazy from it, and just when he'd pushed her to the edge, she'd
bite into him, send him reeling—

No.
He groaned and pushed what was left of the ice into her with the tip
of his tongue. She tried to wiggle away, but he followed the ice with
two fingers and flicked his tongue over her clit. He needed to make
her come first, so she'd have enough control to drink from him
without using her magic to cloud his mind. He didn't want it to feel
good when she bit him; he wanted the pain. He needed it, because he'd
all but forgotten why he'd ever left her in the first place.

His tongue dragged over her clit
again, and this time she hissed his name and thrust her fingers into
his hair. He hadn't bothered to get it cut recently, and she wrapped
the locks around her hand. She held his mouth against her body as if
afraid he'd pull away, and the thought made him want to laugh.

He eased a third finger into her,
stretching the tight channel the way she liked, filling her as he
worked her with his tongue. Her legs trembled under him, and Blake
knew she was close. In that moment, he'd never wanted anything as
badly as he wanted her shuddering under him, her cunt convulsing on
his hand.

He lifted his head and bit out a
curse as he curled his fingers inside her, searching. "Fuck.
Goddamn, Ella, come—"

"I can't—I haven't—"
She sucked in a breath when he found her G-spot, her whole body going
rigid. Her hips bucked up against his hand and every mask fell away.
"Please, please, God, baby, help me—"

He growled and bit her thigh,
thrusting his fingers harder. "
Come
,"
he commanded. "I won't tell you again."

The order pushed her over the edge,
driving her hips up against his hand again as her cunt clenched
around his fingers. She had always been quiet when she came, but she
made up for it with her abandoned expression. He drank in the sight
of her slack jaw and parted lips, the way she squeezed her eyes shut
and arched her head back until the smooth column of her throat formed
a vulnerable line he had to taste.

He eased his hand away and licked a
path up her body as he pulled her upright. He closed his teeth on her
neck, fighting the rush of possessive pleasure that flooded him. He
was so hard it
hurt
,
and he fumbled with his belt and jeans, needing to be inside her more
than he needed his next breath. By the time she'd recovered enough to
raise her head, he'd already freed his cock. "Now," he
whispered hoarsely in her ear. "Now you're getting fucked."

He jerked her off the table and
turned her in the same motion. Her skin felt flushed and damp, and
she whimpered when he spread his hand over her lower back and slid it
up, urging her down over the table. He tightened one hand on her hip
and the other in her hair and plunged into her, biting back a cry at
the way her body welcomed his, hot and eager and wet.

She gasped then groaned out a
command. "Harder."

"No." Blake clenched his
jaw and gentled his thrusts, slowing them until he barely moved at
all. "Not this time, Ella. I'm in charge." His blood
pounded through his veins, and he knew she could hear it. He wanted
to lean forward, brace his arm next to her, invite her to bite into
the veins he already knew would stand out in stark relief under his
skin.

But that was madness. "You
don't own me," he whispered, his voice raw. "Not anymore."

"Blake—" It was a
tortured whisper this time, and she twisted her head to look over her
shoulder at him, seeming unconcerned by the grip he had in her hair.
Her dark eyes were almost black in the dim light of the hall.
"Please. You're the only one who can get me off.
P
lease—
"

He closed his eyes and rested his
forehead against her hair. Getting off was what their relationship
meant to her, what it had always been about. She found him
entertaining and she could control him and he could make her come,
and he would never mean more than that.

It was a hard lesson. One he thought
he'd already learned.

He slipped both arms around her and
gave her what she wanted, a single, deep thrust. "You never got
it, Ella." He panted. He did it again, stronger this time,
speeding his movements until he pounded into her. The world went
white as his hips snapped against her ass, and Blake ran a frantic
hand down her body to rub her clit. "It's more than this. More
than sex."

She screamed this time, threw back
her head and cried out his name as he drove her brutally over the
edge. She came hard, and the clenching heat around his cock felt even
better than he'd remembered. His shout echoed hers and he bit her
again, muffling the desperate groans he couldn't hold back.

His control shattered, his balls
tightening as pleasure pulsed and then exploded through him like a
grenade. The world was perfect, only the two of them in it, and Ella
shook under him, pressing back into his erratic thrusts until he
stilled. When the haze of animal lust and satisfaction cleared from
his head, he loosened his hands, realizing too late he'd left bruises
on her. He never meant to but he usually did, ugly marks that marred
the creamy smoothness of her skin.