The Warrior Vampire (18 page)

The agonizing burn that held him to his oath dulled to a slightly unpleasant fever. The cool ocean air helped to relieve the discomfort and he pushed it to the back of his mind. He abandoned the generous swells of her breasts, kissing a path down her stomach. His tongue dipped into her belly button and Naya's breath hitched as her muscles tightened beneath his lips. The sound of her quick panting breaths reached his ears over the sound of water lapping at the shore. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her pants, slowly drawing them down. Her belt was laden with weapons, and an appreciative smile settled on his lips. A warrior. She had indeed been made for him.

Naya's body twitched with impatience as he slowly undressed her, but she did as he'd bade and kept her arms stretched high above her. He freed her stretchy pants and underwear from around her ankles and the scent of her arousal hit his nostrils. Bloodlust gripped him, his cock throbbed painfully in his jeans, and pacing himself became a feat that Ronan wasn't sure he could accomplish.

Gods, he wanted to bury himself to the hilt in her slick heat. Fuck her until they were both exhausted and sated. Ronan gripped her thighs, the creamy bronze of her skin dusted with sparkling particles that seemed to live and breathe, swirling up and over his hands as he massaged the toned muscles beneath her smooth flesh.

“Your hands feel amazing. Don't stop touching me.”

Ronan's female wasn't one to beg. No, the words that left her mouth in a husky murmur were a gentle command that he had no choice but to obey. Fingers splayed, he gripped her and brushed his thumbs along her inner thighs that were already slick with want. A tremor shook her and Naya's knees fell open to reveal the dusky flesh of her swollen sex.

Gods, she was perfection.

He feathered the pad of his thumb over the stiff little bud that stood out proudly from between the glistening lips. A sound of unabashed pleasure caressed his ears and Ronan circled her clit with slow precision, loving the way it made her thighs twitch with every gentle pass. She was so receptive to his touch. So
ready
for him that it drove him mad with need. He teased the short nest of curls that covered her mound, and she let out a low moan. She thrust her hips upward, writhing as though she was as desperate to receive his touch as he was to give it.

The heady scent of her arousal enveloped him and Ronan breathed deeply, holding it in his lungs. He bent to her pussy and touched his mouth to the petal-soft flesh. A contented groan rumbled in his throat at the first taste and he lapped greedily, taking her sweetness on his tongue.

“Oh, gods, Ronan!” A desperate gasp accompanied Naya's words. “That's … so
good
.” She bucked beneath him and he gripped her hips to keep her still. With the flat of his tongue, he explored her, delving into her channel before flicking out at her clit. The contact was slow. Soft. Deliberate in his tactics, Ronan prolonged her pleasure, drawing each desperate sob from her lips with a smug sense of male satisfaction. He pleased his mate. Made her purr.

And he wouldn't stop until he made her scream.

The rosy glow that suffused her skin brightened with each pass of his tongue. Desperate to have some part of him inside of her, he teased her opening with the pad of his finger, caressing in time with each pass of his tongue.

“Oooohhh.”
The sound was half relief, half desperation.

He thrust his finger deeper, though he kept his pace slow and measured as he took her stiff bud into his mouth and sucked. Naya's back came off the sand and her fingers plunged into his hair, holding him against her. A sizzle of heat crawled just under his skin, but Ronan bore the pain. It was worth it to have Naya's hands on him, gripping his hair in her fists as he pleasured her.

“I'm going to come.” Her sharp intake of breath urged him on and Ronan increased the pressure, circling her clit with his tongue as he thrust a second finger deep into the tight heat of her pussy. “Oh, gods, Ronan. You're going to make me come.”

Bloodlust cast a haze over Ronan's mind, ripped through his throat with a savage heat. He bit down at the juncture of her thigh and pussy, sinking his fangs into the sweet, tender flesh. A scream tore from Naya's throat as she came, and Ronan continued to thrust his finger deep inside of her as her blood flowed over his tongue. He sucked deeply and a sense of power and vitality filled him near to bursting. The light that infused her skin grew brighter, shining with the intensity of the rising sun. Magic crept over his body, igniting his nerve endings like sparks of electricity. Naya continued to sob her pleasure, her nails biting into his scalp as she held him fast against her.

The ecstasy of this moment had no equal.

Ronan brought her down slowly, glutting himself on the sweet nectar of Naya's blood while he caressed the slick, swollen flesh at his fingertips. The cold burn of magic intertwined with the pain of Naya laying claim to a part of his body. And through it all, Ronan continued to feed, suckling at her thigh until his limbs grew heavy and his mind cottony.

He could lie here in the sand until the sun rose, drinking from her vein while he caressed the silken flesh of her pussy.

Naya's thighs fell away from his face and her fingers released their grasp on his hair, falling lazily to the ground at her sides. He scored his tongue on a fang and sealed the punctures on her thigh and pulled away, his gaze mapping every hill and valley of her naked body as his fingers traced a pattern through the wetness coating her inner thighs.

A goddess bathed in gilded rose petals, Naya stared upward, her breath racing in her chest. “I've never felt anything like this.” She rose up on an elbow, her eyes wild and unfocused. “I have to touch you, Ronan. I want my mouth on you. I need to feel you inside of me.”

Though he needed release like a bottle of champagne that had been shaken, Ronan despaired that he wouldn't find it tonight. Gods, how he craved her, longed to join their bodies as one. She reached for him and Ronan's muscles seized. He welcomed the bite of pain, wanted nothing more than to spite Siobhan by giving himself to his mate. His fang nicked his lower lip and he licked at the blood that welled there. Her silken fingertips met the ridges of his abdomen and Ronan shuddered at the lick of heat.

To hell with his troth. To hell with Siobhan. His cock throbbed and his sac ached with unspent seed. He'd take Naya. Fuck her until this hollow sense of empty desperation was filled. He shoved his pants down around his ass and his stiff cock sprang free. He took the length in his fist and toppled over his mate, probing at the warmth between her thighs that welcomed him.

A warning growl came out of the darkness. It slithered up Ronan's spine, triggering his protective instinct. In a flash of movement he snatched Naya up and tucked her behind him, his gaze locked on the set of golden eyes shining with menace not twenty feet away. A scream pierced the darkness, feline and angry. Behind him, Naya scrambled for her clothes and swore under her breath.

“Don't hurt him, Joaquin.”

Her tone was much too pleading and the sound of it speared through Ronan's chest. From the shadows a jaguar approached, his black fur as dark as the night sky. A long tail swished back and forth with serpentine grace and the animal bared his teeth, issuing a feral hiss. He crouched as though preparing to spring upon Ronan and he held his arms wide, welcoming the attack. He'd be damned if his mate saw him as the weaker opponent.

But instead of the cat pouncing, Naya jumped in front of Ronan. Her eyes were still wild, her skin bearing the luminescence of magic. She turned away to face his attacker. “I said,
no
.”

*   *   *

Naya tried to shake off the drunken haze that still clung to her mind. She'd known better than to linger where they might be found, and yet she'd given herself to Ronan where anyone could see, wasting precious time she could have used to hide him from the members of her pod. Common sense didn't exist where he was concerned, and she found herself wanting to live only in the moment. Even now, with Joaquin's deadly gaze fixed on them, all she could think about was how badly she wanted Ronan.

Get your shit together, Naya!

Joaquin wasn't the only one ready for a fight. Behind her a warning growl erupted in Ronan's chest, and she didn't have to turn around to know that the vampire's eyes were alight with silver and his fangs bared.

“Get out of the way, Naya.” Ronan's voice was almost distorted with rage, every word stilted. They were all nothing more than highly evolved animals, and stepping in front of a territorial predator probably wasn't the best idea. Still, she couldn't simply hide behind him and do nothing!

Joaquin stalked in a wide arch around them, his tail swishing back and forth, head low to the ground. His silky black ears lay flat on his head as he raised his nose to the sky. Deep wrinkles cut into the fur as he sniffed, his nose no doubt burned with the tang of magic. He eyed Naya warily and she reached back to put a staying hand on Ronan's arm. Agitation pulled her muscles taut, but she knew that it was Ronan's emotions that she sensed and not her own.

The tether?

He was angry. It soured her stomach and left a bitter taste on her tongue. But this wasn't his world. And starting a fight with Joaquin would only make matters worse. Ronan's fingers tightened over hers, a brief, possessive squeeze before he let go.
Uh-oh.
The gesture felt a hell of a lot like an apology. “Whatever you're about to do,” she warned, “don't.”

A song, slow and rhythmic, pounded in her chest like a round of drums. The Bororo males might not have been able to manipulate or wield magic, but that didn't mean that magic wasn't an inherent part of them. The sound grew louder, for Naya's ears alone as Joaquin shifted, leaving his animal form behind.

The shift was painless as far as she knew, like slipping out of the water. And was it wrong that for a moment Naya had wished that the transition would have left Joaquin at a disadvantage? If only to buy her and Ronan time to get the hell out of there.

“Naya.” Joaquin's dark brows drew sharply over his nearly black eyes. The pain in his voice was visceral, cutting through her in a bloody swath that left her feeling much too raw. How long had he been hidden by shadows, watching? How much had he seen? Naya's cheeks warmed with shame. Had he been witness to her unabashed passion as she screamed her pleasure while Ronan buried his face between her legs?

She didn't know what to say. Where to start. Excuses were trite and Joaquin would scent any lie she tried to tell him. Likewise, one misspoken word would just as surely cut Ronan down. Honesty was the only policy in this situation. She'd deal with the consequences of her actions.

“I know I haven't checked in, but—”

“Pensé que estabas muerto!”
The words left his lips in a barely restrained shout. His lip curled into a disdainful sneer as his gaze raked her from head to toe. “And I find you naked in the sand, beneath that
pinche pedazo de mierda
!”

Naya cringed. The accusation in Joaquin's tone stung. She should have called someone. Told Luz to let everyone know that she was okay. Of course they'd assumed she'd been killed; she never went out on a hunt without checking in. He was upset. Worried. And betrayed. She got that. But any aggression against Ronan would be a bad idea. Joaquin had no idea just who—or what—he was up against.

Completely unabashed by his nakedness, Joaquin paced, his narrowed gaze flitting from Naya to Ronan. He was nearly as big as Ronan, his body corded with lean muscle. Sleeker than her vampire, but no less deadly. Joaquin's nostrils flared and a muscle at his jaw ticked. The sound of drums picked up its pace in Naya's soul and it was obvious that the male held on to his control by the barest of threads. If he shifted again, he'd attack. Naya was certain of it. She had to calm him down, diffuse his temper before it exploded. Joaquin rounded on her, his body shaking with unrestrained rage, and pointed an accusing finger.
“Eres mio!”
You are
mine
.

Oh, hell no.
Naya wasn't some object to be passed around and she sure as shit wasn't going to let
anyone
treat her like one. Ronan stepped up behind Naya, close enough that the heat from his chest soaked into her back. He rested a large palm on her hip, angling her body toward his. A low warning growl erupted into a full-blown snarl. Whether or not he spoke Spanish, Naya assumed that Ronan had gotten the gist of Joaquin's tone.
Great.

She pulled away from Ronan's possessive embrace and stalked toward Joaquin, ready to take his fool head from his shoulders. There were monsters running loose in town. Malicious magic was infecting people at an alarming rate. They didn't have time for this bullcrap. “I am
not
your property.” She stabbed a finger at his wide chest. “I've spent over half of the past twenty-four hours unconscious. And if not for the male standing behind me, I would be dead.” Gods, she was so tired of being kept under someone's thumb. Of being treated as though she couldn't take care of herself when she was out patrolling every night, by herself and getting shit
done
. “And what I do with
my
body is none of your business, Joaquin. If I want to fuck the entire male population of Crescent City, I will! Got it?” She gave a final stab at his chest, knocking him back a pace.

Joaquin's eyes widened, his jaw slack. “
Dioses,
Naya. What has he done to you?
Usted está brillando!
”

Oh yeah. She'd forgotten about the magic that painted her skin with a brilliant rose light. Crap. Talk about a scarlet letter. Keeping her sex life on the DL was going to be a little tough when the evidence of a mind-shattering orgasm sent a charge of magic over her skin. Joaquin shoved her none too gently to the side, snatching a long knife from a sheath at her hip, and stalked past her.