UnholyCravings (4 page)

“They’re unconscious.” Tara hated when Sparrow questioned
her judgement, even though he was right most of the time. The man could be
downright infuriating.

Swear words rumbled through the line. “Tie them down before
they wake up, and then look for the tattoo.”

“Okay. Hang on, I’ll be right back.” Tara’s thoughts drifted
back to when Soren first woke up. Desire flared in her core and her skin became
hot. The man was a good kisser. She felt almost as if he was trying to consume
her. It was incredibly hot.

He seemed a little possessive, but he wasn’t threatening. He
hadn’t harmed her, and she thought it would be harder to get information from
either of them if they were treated as if they were prisoners.

She decided not to tie them, but to look for the tattoo.
Sparrow was right. They had to be sure that she had the people they were
looking for. Besides, after that kiss, Tara was eager to touch Soren again.

Tara placed the phone on the counter and went over to the
bed. She looked at first one man, then the other, deciding where she should
begin. There was so much muscle, so much skin. She moistened her lips as she
ran her gaze over each of their taut bodies. She imagined herself in bed with
both of them, touching their arms, feeling their hard chests press up against
her. She had heard of women having sex with two men before, but had never given
it much thought until now. It was wild and reckless and oh-so-exciting. Too bad
they were both unconscious.

She moved around the bed, closer to where the taller and
leaner man laid. This one hadn’t woken up since the blast.
Donar.
His
face appeared strained and troubled. She reached out to touch him, then paused,
her hand inches away from his temple. Her fingers itched to touch him, but she
felt odd disturbing him in his sleep. She held still for a second and considered
her options.

If these were the twins who had once belonged to the now
defunct assassin team Venom, then they’d both have a large tattoo of a snake
wrapped around a sword that would span from their calf to their hip. To see the
tat, Tara would have to remove the men’s pants. There was no way around it.

It was rude to just take their clothes off while they were
unconscious, but damn, she really wanted to see what was underneath those
form-fitting jeans. Would they have a fine dusting of hair on their legs? Would
their cocks be long and lean, or more thick and rounded? With a little luck,
perhaps Tara could have the best of both worlds…

What was she doing? This was no time to have her imagination
run wild. She shook off the image of her limbs entwined with each of the twins
and glanced at the phone. Sparrow was waiting. She had to get to work.

Tara moistened her lips and put her hand on Donar’s shirt.
The thin cotton fabric felt smooth against her fingers. She lifted it up,
dragging the cloth up over his pale skin. Hard muscle rippled over his abdomen.
She reached out and brushed her fingers over the small hills, as if she was
playing an instrument.

His skin felt smooth. Fine, blond hairs dotted his chest,
adding color to an otherwise pale landscape. She didn’t see the tattoo, but it
could be lower on his hip. There would be only one way to find out…

She brushed her fingers down and gently undid the belt
buckle of his jeans.

Donar groaned, and Tara stilled her hands and glanced up at
his face. He had turned his head, but his eyes were still closed. He seemed
close to regaining consciousness. She’d have to hurry.

She undid his belt and button, then slowly unzipped his fly.
The noise from the zipper echoed through the room and Tara winced at the noise.
She’d be hard-pressed to explain herself if he caught her with her hand in his
pants. She glanced up at him one more time, then continued with her work.

She opened the zipper all the way, then pulled back the
flap.
Good heavens…

So, Donar liked to go commando. Good to know. Heat surged
through her body as she examined his skin. The man was beautiful, she’d give
him that. Coarse hair dotted his pelvis, directing her gaze to the base of his
cock peeking out from his jeans.
So very tempting.
She slipped her
fingers along the edge of his pants, then paused. The head had been tucked
under his pants, and reached down between his legs.

Tara moistened her lips as she stared at the tuft of blond
hair at the base of his shaft. She wanted to run her fingers through it, to grab
his base and free his length from his constricting jeans.

She shook her head. Why was she having such thoughts? Even
though she had been poring over their files for months, she barely knew them.
These men weren’t her playthings. They had information that could help save the
Iatros
and further Darien’s cause to rid the world of
deahmans
.

They were her mission, nothing more.

Then why did she want to get naked and crawl into bed with
them? Not just one, but
both
of them? It made no sense.

Tara forced the sensual thoughts from her mind and tried to
focus on her objective. She needed to confirm with Sparrow that they were the
twins from Darien’s team.

Darien had mentioned that the twins and Sparrow were
recruited from some secret society of assassins, and that all three of them had
diamond earrings and tattoos as a mark of their former loyalty. She inched the
flap farther back and saw the head of a snake looking back at her.
Bingo.

But it was just a snake’s head. She had to confirm that the
entire tattoo was there, didn’t she?

Of course she did. For all she knew, Donar could only have
the head of a snake, no body and no sword. She had to see the whole tattoo to
be sure. And if his cock sprang free in the process, well, that would just be a
bonus.

She eased his jeans back farther and saw more of the tattoo.
It had faded with age, but was unmistakable. It ran down along the side of his
hip and dipped beneath his pants. She also saw the hilt of a large sword.

This was definitely one of the twins. She’d bet her life that
Soren had one that matched.

She glanced back at Donar’s cock and frowned when she
discovered it was still buried in his pants.
Damn.
Maybe if she inched
the jeans down another inch…

A man’s voice shot through the air and Tara realized that
Sparrow was shouting on the phone. Just her luck. She sighed and went back to
retrieve it.

“It’s there all right,” she said.

“What took you so long?”

“I had to slide his pants down far enough to see it without
disturbing him.”

“Did you take a picture?”

“A what?”

“You heard me. I have to be sure.”

“My word isn’t good enough?”

“Not for something this important.”

Tara sighed. When would these people start trusting her?
Once again, old inadequacies rose to the surface. She was never strong enough
or powerful enough, or smart enough. It was almost as if she was an outcast in
the
Iatros
society, an embarrassment.

She frowned as she walked back to the bed and climbed onto
the edge. After fumbling with the phone, she eased back Donar’s jeans once more
and took a picture. She was careful to leave his shaft out of the shot. While
she enjoyed the view, she suspected Sparrow didn’t.

“There, satisfied?” she asked after she sent the picture.

“Yes, thank you.”

“What do I do now?”

“Nothing. We’ll be there within the hour to take them back
to Celestial Wood for debriefing.”

“I can do that myself.”

“It will be better if we do it. We’re more able to defend
them if something happens.”

Why did people always make her feel inferior? “You’re just a
human.”

“Yeah, but a very deadly human.”

“Very funny.”

Sparrow laughed. “Stay put. Help is on the way.”

“Okay, will do.” She closed the phone and tossed it to the
bureau. She was so tired of feeling as if she was a second-class citizen. Just
like she couldn’t chose her spirit-mate, Tara had no control over how much
magic the mother-goddess chose to give her. She couldn’t help that others were
smarter or more powerful. For once, just once, it would be nice to have someone
who trusted her, who looked up to her.

She looked around the room as she tried to shake off her
self-pity. It was rather unfortunate that Samir wasn’t back with coffee yet.
She could really use a cup. What was taking him so long?

She walked back to the bed and stared at Donar’s abdomen. He
looked so…edible. Heat rose up and slid over her skin and desire surged in her
veins. She wondered if she should risk peeking at his tattoo once more.

Keeping her eyes locked on his face, Tara reached down and
eased back the edge of his jeans. So far, so good. She glanced down and once
again saw the head of the snake staring back at her. She wondered what it would
be like to lick his tattoo, starting down at the tail and working all the way
up to the head. What would it taste like?

She flicked her gaze from the tattoo to the base of his
shaft. After she tasted his tattoo, she’d taste his cock. Would it be salty or
sweet? Would he shudder beneath her or dig his fingers into her hair and urge
her faster? Hopefully he’d do a little of both.

Tara glanced up at his face. Would he notice if she touched
it? Just one brush of the fingers, then she’d leave him alone.

She kept her gaze locked on his face as she slid her hand
across the coarse hairs of his lower abdomen. He felt hard, yet smooth. She
glanced down as curiosity took hold. Just one little peek, and then she’d put
him back. He’d never be the wiser.

Tara moistened her lips as she dipped her fingers lower and
eased them around the base of his shaft.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Tara heart beat quickened as she stilled her hand and met
Donar’s curious, crimson gaze.

Chapter Four

Donar stared in disbelief at the beautiful woman with her
hand in his pants. Talk about hitting the lottery. He had no idea how she had
gotten there, or why she was doing what she was doing, but it didn’t matter.
She was a fine female specimen with all of that black hair and pale skin, and
his inner darkness purred with approval.

“Do it,” he challenged.

She jerked her hand back, causing her small, pert breasts to
bounce in her neon purple bra. It was very considerate of her to take off her
shirt for him, but he wondered why she decided to leave her bra on. Was she
modest? She had left her hip-hugging jeans and black boots on too. Didn’t she
want him to touch her? No matter. She’d remove her clothes soon enough. His
deahman
would demand it of her and she’d have no choice but to obey.

Everyone obeyed his
deahman
, including him.

“Free it for me.” His voice sounded rough to his ears. How
odd. He didn’t want to focus on that however. It was too boring. Getting the
woman to wrap her fingers around his cock once more was much more entertaining.

“I didn’t mean to…” The woman placed her fingers over her
lips. Was she embarrassed? Why? Sex was a basic need, one that every living
creature needed fulfilled. It was nothing to be ashamed of.

“Oh, I think I know exactly what you meant to do.” He nodded
toward his aching erection. “Go ahead, free it.” If she didn’t do something
soon, he was going to lose the last shed of sanity he had. He could feel his
inner
deahman
pacing around in his mind and testing his will. It wanted
the freedom to do what it wanted. All Donar had to do was to lower his
defenses, lose himself to his emotions and his inner monster would be free.

His human half knew that he needed to stand up and walk
away, but he couldn’t move. Fuck, he could barely breathe with her looking at
him like that.

She turned back to his jeans. “I need to lower your pants.”

Ah, that was more like it. He hooked his feet into the bed
and lifted his hips. “Be my guest.”

Tara hesitated, then reached down and grabbed hold of the
jeans with shaking hands. “Are you sure?” she asked.

He almost laughed at the absurdity of the question. “Yes, I’m
sure.”

She gently inched his jeans down over his ass. The woman
moved with agonizing slowness. Donar squeezed his eyes shut as her soft fingers
slid down his hips and eased over his outer thighs. His cock sprang free from
its constraints and he breathed a sigh of relief. Now if he could only get her
to touch it…

He settled back on the bed and looked down at the large purple
head of his cock, sticking up in the air between them. He was so eager that he
had already begun to leak moisture. What was it about this woman that had him
behaving like a schoolboy?

He felt his
deahman
pace inside his head. With every
second, it was getting stronger. It needed to feed, which meant that Donar needed
to have sex—either that or bust someone’s head against a wall. Donar always
preferred to feed his
deahman
with sex rather than violence. It was much
more pleasurable.

“You’re big,” she said.

“I can be bigger.” He steeled his jaw as he fought the
rising darkness inside of him. It was imperative that he held onto his control.
If he lost himself to his emotions, then he’d lose to his
deahman
, and
then the feisty little vixen pulling down his pants would get hurt. He didn’t
want to hurt anyone, least of all her.

The woman wrapped her fingers around his base and slowly ran
her hand up his shaft, caressing him from root to the tip.

Oh sweet…
Donar groaned and closed his eyes. “That’s
it. Keep doing that.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

The woman did it again. “My name’s Tara, by the way.”

Donar opened his eyes and looked at her.
Tara?

“I just thought you should know because…you know.” She
stroked him again, setting off tingles at the base of his spine. “I just
thought you might like to know.”

He stared at her for a moment, trying to think of what to
say. “My name’s…” Fuck, what
was
his name?

“Donar, I know.”

Donar?
Yes, the name sounded right. He couldn’t
remember how he got here or who this lovely woman was before him, but at the
moment he didn’t really care.

“Take off your bra,” he said.

“What?” She stopped her movements.

“I want to see you—all of you.”

She sat up and looked at him for a moment. “You’re serious.”

“Yes.” He was deadly serious. It had been a long time since
either he or his
deahman
had seen a good set of breasts, and something
told him that these would be exceptional.

She reached around behind her and undid the strap. “No one
has ever looked at me like that before.”

“Looked at you like what?” Donar dragged his gaze back up to
her face.

“Like they wanted to eat me.”

He grinned. “Would you like that?”

“Maybe.”

“Then take off your bra.”

She slowly slipped the straps from her shoulders and let the
fabric fall to the mattress.

“Lovely.” Donar fought the urge to touch them, to bury his
face in all of that milky-smooth skin.
Control.
“Take off your pants.”

“My-my pants?”

“Yes.” Pain shot through his head and he gritted his teeth. Damn
deahman
. It was gaining the upper hand. He had to hurry.

Donar let his gaze roam down to the small silver ring in her
navel. “Take them off, Tara.”

Tara shivered at the mention of her name. She slid off the
bed, unhooked her belt, and let her jeans slide down to the floor. Donar’s
mouth ran dry as he saw the small patch of neon-purple that sat between her
legs. He wanted to tear off her thong with his teeth and make her scream with
pleasure. Soon…

Another blast of pain sliced through his skull, causing him
to wince.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“I’m fine. Continue.” He moistened his lips as she bent down
and undid her boots. She slipped them off easily, one by one, then kicked off
her pants. Then she straightened and hooked her thumbs into the straps of her
thong.

“Stop,” he commanded as another blast of pain stabbed
through his body. He fought the urge to curl up into a ball and whimper.

She looked up at him with a curious gaze. “Did I do
something wrong?”

Oh no, she did everything right, that was the problem. He
wiped a bead of sweat from his brow and tried to gain back control from his
deahman
.

“Turn around.” His voice sounded strained. He wasn’t
surprised, considering the war going on inside his body.

She held her hands out to the side and slowly turned around.
The material was thin and see-through. Tiny threads wrapped around her hips and
dipped between the cheeks of her ass.
Have mercy.

When she completed a rotation, she lowered her arms. “Do you
like what you see?”

“Yes.” A little too much. He was succumbing to his emotions
and his
deahman
was taking control. He had to send her away for her own
protection, but Donar couldn’t bring himself to dismiss her.

“Come here.”

She took his hand and climbed up onto the bed next to him.
Their gazes locked.

“Aren’t you scared?” he asked.

“No.”

“You should be.” He flicked his gaze to her mouth. “I am
losing control.” He inched closer. “You need to run.”

“I can help you.” She tilted her head to the side, her own
gaze lowering to his mouth.

“You’re a fool.”

“We’ll see about that.”

He closed the last few inches of space between them and
covered her mouth. The kiss started soft and gentle, but soon turned hot and
possessive. The more he tasted, the more he wanted. His mind numbed, blocking
out the world around him and focusing on her taste, her scent.

She looped her arms around his neck and threaded her fingers
through his long, blond hair. He ran his tongue over the seam of her lips,
coaxing her to open. She did, and it was if heaven itself had parted its gates
for him. He slipped into her mouth and started to explore.

Cherries, she smelled of cherries. Donar groaned as her
scent mingled with her sweet taste and invaded his senses. He felt himself
slipping deeper and deeper into the moment, his control fading a little more
with each brush of her tongue.

He closed his eyes and cupped her breasts, palming them in
his large hands. She groaned as he squeezed and pressed, testing their weight.
They were perfect. He moved his rough palms over her nipples, delighting when
they pebbled against his skin. She moaned and wiggled a little closer, her
fingers curling deeper into the back of his head.

“You’re not thinking of giving him all of the attention now,
are you?”

Donar pulled away from Tara and hissed at the man in the bed
next to him.

“Soren,” the woman said.

Soren.
The name sounded familiar. The man’s face
hardened as he looked at Donar. Something lighted his eyes—recognition? He cast
his gaze toward the mattress.

“I’m sorry, master.” Soren’s hands trembled with fear. Yes,
it was fear. Donar could taste the man’s emotions on the air, feel them as if
they were his own.

Master.
His
deahman
’s wrath changed to a purr
of approval. It recognized the monster within the man next to him on the bed
and wanted to share the woman with him.

“You can share, if you wish.” Donar didn’t say the
statement, his
deahman
did, but nevertheless, Donar felt right about it.
He sensed that he had shared women with this man before. There was a bond
between them that seemed familiar, like home.

“Share?” Tara looked from one man to the other, her eyes
wide.

“You do not wish to taste us both?” Soren asked.

“I-I don’t know.” She looked from one to the other.

“We crave,” Donar said. Or rather, his
deahman
said
through him. With each passing second, Donar’s control was slipping. To make
matters worse, he had stopped caring. If letting his
deahman
take
control would get him inside this woman faster, then so be it. There was a need
burning inside of him, one that only the woman before him could satisfy.

“You what?” She turned to face him.

“It has been a long time since we’ve fed,” Soren said.

“And we won’t be denied.” Some distant memory flickered
through Donar’s mind. His
deahman
had fed like this with Soren’s
deahman
before. It seemed right that they would do so again, just so long as
Soren’s darkness understood that Donar’s deahman called the shots and the woman
belonged to him.

Donar sat up and inched closer to her on the bed. Her scent
drifted up and surrounded him. She was afraid, very afraid, but there was
something underneath the fear that called to him. It was a faint, sweet scent
that called to his
deahman
and drew him closer.

She was aroused. It wouldn’t take much to make her willing.
It wouldn’t take much at all.

Both men stared at her with such hunger and intensity that
it made Tara shiver. She knew that she wasn’t speaking to the men themselves.
Somehow, their inner darkness had gotten the upper hand and had taken control
of their consciousness. Maybe it was the concussions, or maybe it was that they
had been through a lot of mental and physical strain. Whatever the cause, she
needed to reverse it before something bad happened.

Tara struggled to figure out how to give the men an
advantage over their inner darkness.
Iatros
magic was a counter to
deahman
magic, but she wasn’t strong enough to absorb the evil from both the men.
Still, if she could help at least one of them…

Both men shifted on the bed, scattering her thoughts. All of
a sudden they surrounded her. Their hot, hard bodies pressed against her front
and back. Donar knelt behind her, while Soren inched closer to her front. Together
they pressed into her personal space, their crimson gazes hungry and primal.

Yes.
Her body responded to their close proximity in a
way that surprised her. She should be afraid of such dominance and power, but
instead she was aroused. It reminded her of when she had first spotted them in
that clearing, when they first went into hell. She felt the bond between them
then, just like she did now.

It was as if all her life she had been waiting for this
moment. This was what she wanted, what she needed. Ever since she had first
seen the men running toward the portal, she’d known they were special.

“We crave,” Soren repeated.

“We must be satisfied.” Donar leaned over her shoulder. His
warm breath brushed past her neck, causing her to shiver.

Their inner monsters seemed to have a one-track mind. Not
that Tara cared. It seemed like around these two she had a one-track mind as
well.

“Must have you.” Donar used his strong, firm hands to tilt
her head to the side. Then he pressed his lips to her skin. Tara shivered. She
felt so vulnerable, yet safe at the same time. She considered herself a strong
woman, but she was also on the petite side. Being pressed between two six-foot
men made her feel even smaller. She was at their mercy. Somehow it felt right.

Donar ran his tongue along her vein, setting off tingles all
over her body. Soren looked up from her breasts and met her gaze. “I crave.” He
framed her face with his hands.

Their
deahmans
must have more control over them than
she thought. They were reduced to repeating short phrases as if they were a
couple of two-year-olds. Did her presence do that to them? Did these men feel
the strange bond forming between them like she did?

Tara opened her mouth to respond and Soren covered it with
his own. She gasped as his tongue swept in between her lips, filling her with
his taste. It was musky, with a hint of cinnamon. She drank him in as his hands
slid down her neck, then her chest, finally resting on her breasts. He squeezed
them in his large palms, awakening a raw, primal need deep inside her core.