Burning Ash

by N. J. Walters

  Time slipped away. There was no past, no present. Only the two of them existed.

  He could kiss her forever and never grow tired. Every sigh, every groan, was a gift.

  It was Jo who slid her tongue into his mouth, she who teased and demanded more. Tightening his arms around her, he gave her what she asked.

  The kiss had started out as one of comfort, an intimate touch to remind her that she wasn’t alone. Now it was a wildfire that burned through his veins, demanding to be slaked.

  She threaded her fingers through his hair, shoving the tie out of her way and gripping hanks of it. This was no longer about forgetting the past but embracing what was between them.

  Jo was no shrinking violet. The hardships of her past had shaped her, honed her, turned her into a deadly fighting machine, a woman with a mission. But as tough as she might be, beneath it all beat the heart of the girl who’d lost her parents in the most horrific way.

  “Are you sure?” He wanted no regrets.

  “Yes.” There was no hesitation, no quiver of doubt in her voice.

  He yanked the covers down, not wanting anything between them. Her lips were moist from their kisses and slightly puffy. When she licked them, he feared he might explode before he got inside her.

  He gritted his teeth and counted to twenty in Arabic.

  It’s not going to impress her if you go off like a Fourth of July firework.

  Her nipples were hard nubs, pushing against the thin fabric covering her. His shirt was a simple garment on the hanger; on her it was as seductive as any lingerie. The musky scent of her arousal teased his nostrils.

  A need even more compelling than bloodlust gripped him. His lust for her went to the core of his being, until even the very cells of his body craved her. But it was tempered by a deep caring and desire to make this good for her.

  Like a fine wine, he wanted to savor this moment. There was only one first time.

  “Asher.” She tilted her head to the side and studied him. “Is anything wrong?”

  “Not a damn thing.” His clothes were gone in a flash. Then he knelt on the bed, looming over her. “Let me strip you naked and kiss every inch of your skin?”

  Her heartbeat was elevated, but that was due to passion, not fear. The scent of her arousal was a heady perfume in the air.

  “God, yes,” she moaned. “Less talk. More action.”

  He smiled, something he hadn’t thought possible with all the conflicting emotions bombarding him, but that was Jo. Only she had this kind of effect on him.

  “You want more action?” When she nodded, he tucked his fingers inside the collar of the shirt and yanked. The fabric tore all the way to the hem. He shoved the pieces apart, opening the garment as he would a much-anticipated present.

  Because Jo was a gift beyond price. It wasn’t just her breasts, which were perfectly shaped, the nipples taut red buds. Or the enticement of sensual promise in her eyes. It was her indomitable spirit. The way she stood up to him, didn’t back down from fear but met it head-on. It was the way she fought back tears, chagrined over shedding a single one as though it somehow made her weak, when it only highlighted her strength.

  His hands shook as he cupped the full mounds and lightly squeezed. When she moaned, his balls constricted.

  “Now.” She moved restlessly on the bed, her body undulating toward him.

  “Not yet.” He planned to explore every inch of her smooth skin and started by stroking his fingertips down her torso. Goose bumps broke out in their wake.

  His hunter had led a hard life. Scars marred her flesh, a testament to her courage. How many times had death lingered? How many times had she fought back? One was about six inches long and curved over her stomach. He pressed his lips against the old injury.

  When he looked up at her in question, she shook her head. “Not now.”

  Right, but he would know…eventually. No doubt she’d slain the creature that had caused it. Otherwise she wouldn’t be here.

  The winds of fury ramped up inside him, a raging hurricane ready to be released. He tamped them down, unwilling to do anything that might damage her any further. She was his, imprinted on his very blood and bones.

  This was about pleasure, about the joy of two people coming together to share the most intimate act in the world. It was about honoring her, showing her how much he cared.

  He feathered kisses over the faded white lines of each past injury. He couldn’t take them away, nor did he want to. They were symbols of battles won and had helped hone her into the woman she was.

  He licked and sucked each finger, nibbled his way up her arms. Her nipples were hard and red, begging to be sucked. He took one into his mouth and flicked his tongue over the tip. It was sweet and salty at the same time.

  Jo dug her nails into his skin, ran her palms over his biceps and down his spine, kneaded his muscles. They rolled across the bed, fighting for dominance, not really concerned with who won. He kissed her because he had to taste her again. Her sultry laugh had his balls trying to climb into his body. His dick was one hairsbreadth from exploding, and he hadn’t gotten to explore below her waist yet.

  Sweat beaded on their bodies as their heated flesh glided together. “I have to taste you.” It was imperative.

  She reached a hand between them and stroked his shaft. “You sure?”

  His eyes rolled back in his head at the ecstasy her touch evoked. His groan echoed around them. With a massive roar, he heaved himself down the bed, burrowed between her strong thighs, and licked her slick folds.

  Sweet. Had he ever tasted anything as sweet as her essence? Greedy for more, he went back again and again, dipping between her thighs.

  Gasping, she bucked her hips against him. “More.”

  “I’ll give you more. I’ll give you everything.” He teased her clit with the tip of his tongue before sucking on the sensitive nub.

  “Asher.” His name fell from her lips, a plea and a curse. “Now.” Her fingers dug into his shoulders, and her legs clamped around him.

  When he eased one finger into her slick core, her entire body went rigid. He curled the finger and dragged it over the lining of her sensitive sheath. Her cry of release almost made his head explode.

  Mine.

  Unstoppable, he flowed up her body and impaled her in one smooth thrust. Wet from her orgasm, her inner muscles rippled around his dick, accepting his invasion.

  Supporting his weight on his forearms, he thrust hard. Keeping the strokes short and fast, he pounded into her. The headboard slammed against the wall. Something rattled on the dresser and fell with a clatter.

  Slow down.

  “Don’t stop,” she commanded, her words contradicting his thoughts.

  Breathing ragged, blood pumping hard, he shoved his arms beneath her and sat upright, taking her with him so they were facing each other. The new position pushed him even deeper. His balls were hard and tight, every muscle in his body straining toward one end.

  She looped her arms around his neck and kissed him. He drank in her gasps, her sighs. Reveled in the sharp punch of her nails in his skin. Loved the way she moved against him, with him.

  He raised her several inches only to drop her back down. It was perfection. It was torture.

  “Come for me again.” He raked his teeth over the slender column of her neck. Her pulse fluttered wildly. Her heart raced.

  Pain and pleasure swirled. The explosive mixture ripped through him. He threw back his head, a guttural groan escaping him, as his orgasm shot from his balls and out the tip of his cock. He closed his eyes, shuttering them so she wouldn’t see the reddish tinge that washed over them whenever he was gripped by strong emotions.

  Jo cried out again and buried her face in the curve of his neck.

  He held her against him, one hand cupping the back of her head, the other against the small of h
er back. He sucked air into his lungs, pleasure warring with pain.

  Don’t bite.

  The urge to break the tender flesh, to taste the richness of her blood clawed at him. He licked his lips and started to lower his head. It would be so easy.

  No! He flung himself away, horrified at what he’d almost done. After everything she’d told him, had given him, to even consider such a thing was unconscionable.

  I’m a monster.

  He had to get away before he did something that could not be undone. His feet were barely on the ground before she jumped on his back, her arms twined around his neck, her legs locked around his waist.

  It happened so fast it froze him in place.

  “It’s all right.” She pressed her lips against him. “I saw your fangs drop and your eyes go red.”

  “It’s not all right.” Hands fisted on his thighs, he wanted to hit something, anything to drive out the pain consuming him. That he could have even contemplated taking her blood after what she’d told him was inexcusable.

  “You’re only human.” A quick pause and then a laugh. “Okay, not really, but what happened was natural.”

  He reached behind him and swung her around until she was on his lap facing him, her breasts pillowed against his hard chest. “I won’t ever bite you.” It was an unbreakable vow. “I’ll safeguard you, even from me.”

  She threaded her fingers through his hair, running her nails over his scalp in the most glorious caress, sending shivers of pleasure racing down his spine. “You’re forgetting one thing.”

  “Right now, I’m forgetting a lot of things.” With her pressing against him, the heat and scent of their lovemaking seeping into his skin, and her lips teasing his, it was a wonder he could follow a single thought.

  “I’m a hunter. I’d stop you.”

  Asher released a huge sigh. She was right, to a degree. While she couldn’t beat him, couldn’t destroy him—no matter how much she might wish it at times—she could stop him long enough for him to come to his senses.

  “Why aren’t you afraid of me?” Everyone he’d met, with the exception of Maccus and the gods, feared him. Her earlier fear of him seemed to have passed.

  Her smile was soft and beguiling. She bewitched him with her different colored eyes. There was no other in the world comparable to his Jo.

  “I’m not sure. I’ve seen so much death and destruction. I’ve spilled blood. I know what it means to be different, to be an outsider in this world. But mostly I feel it here.” She lifted his right hand and pressed it over her heart. The strong thud settled him. “It makes no logical sense. My job as a hunter dictates I should stab you through the heart or take off your head. But even when I tried, I didn’t really want to succeed. And that’s a first.”

  He captured her face in his hands and pressed a solemn kiss against her lips. “I won’t do anything that will give you cause to turn your sword on me.”

  “See that you don’t, because lover or not, I will fight back. Now that we have that settled, I’m not done with you yet.” She grabbed his still very hard dick, fitted it to her body, and then lowered herself. They both moaned. He wrapped his arms around her and simply held on for the ride.

  Chapter Twelve

  Amazing what a couple of good rounds of hot, sweaty sex could do for a girl. She’d slept soundly, which wasn’t surprising. She’d needed the rest. Asher had been beside her, his arms around her, as though even in sleep he didn’t want to release her.

  Or maybe it was to keep her from getting her sword and decapitating him while he was vulnerable.

  There’d been a bad moment or two during their lovemaking when he’d become transfixed on her neck, and she’d wondered if she was in for the fight of her life.

  Instead, the most powerful vampire she’d ever met had tried to run away. In that second, her trust had solidified.

  If he could fight bloodlust, was willing to battle it, then he had to have very strong feelings for her.

  The vampire and the hunter—not exactly a storybook couple.

  They’d risen just after sunset. After a not-so-quick shower, which included more hot and soapy sex, they’d eaten and were now settled in his office.

  “Anything?” Asher was busy with the phones they’d taken from their attackers. He’d gotten past their passwords without a hitch.

  “A lot of texts back and forth between a couple of them and plans to meet at a club here in Manhattan. Seems like it was a regular haunt for them.”

  “But they met us in Brooklyn.”

  He tossed the phone he was holding onto the desk and shrugged. “That’s where they were sent by whoever is behind this. This club may have nothing to do with what’s happening.”

  “But it’s a starting point.” And about the only lead they had.

  “We can ask around. See if anyone knew them, where they lived—because it’s not the address listed on their licenses—that kind of thing.” Asher’s eyes darkened. “It will serve notice that you belong to me. To move against you is to move against me.”

  A shiver raced down her spine and goose bumps ran down her arms. The possessiveness in his tone should put her hackles up but didn’t. It was a rare and beautiful thing to have someone concerned about her safety.

  And she wasn’t stupid. There was a contract out on her and likely to be more takers. Having him on her side gave her an edge, and she needed every advantage she could get in order to stay alive.

  Asher was a very dangerous man. Handsome as hell, too, in his dark jeans and silk shirt. The shirt probably cost a small fortune and had definitely been tailored to fit his broad shoulders and lean body. Made her think about what was beneath the expensive fabric. Hard muscled abs. Hot skin.

  She shook off the lust that seemed to always be bubbling just beneath the surface whenever he was near. “Anything from Maccus?”

  “No. And he won’t contact us unless he has something solid. As far as he’s concerned, by coming here he’s fulfilled his social obligations for the next several centuries.”

  “Seriously?”

  Asher stood and came around to the corner of the desk where she was sitting. “Believe it or not, I’ve seen him more in the past year than I had in the previous century. It’s Morrigan’s influence.”

  “That woman must have some real mojo.” It would be fascinating to talk with her.

  “Never forget that Maccus will destroy anyone he perceives as a threat to her.” It was a pointed reminder, but not one she needed. Not after meeting the guy.

  “Got it.” She linked her arms around his neck. “When do we hit the club?” Time to find out who was setting her up as bait, trying to use her to hurt Asher, and possibly Maccus and the Forgotten Brotherhood.

  “Tonight. No point in waiting.”

  Her life expectancy, even with Asher by her side, was extremely short. No matter how much she might wish differently, she was human. He’d been created by a goddess and would be alive long after she was dust.

  Would he even remember her after a century or two?

  Best to enjoy the here and now and not worry about tomorrow.

  “What are you thinking?” He rubbed his index finger over the furrow of her brow. His breath feathered over her face. His olive-toned skin was smooth. No wrinkles. No blemishes. Just pure perfection. He didn’t even have a five o’clock shadow. Guess shaving was something he didn’t need to worry about, either.

  She, on the other hand, already had some fine lines radiating out from the corners of her eyes. And even though she was an adult, she still got the occasional blemish. Her lips got dry and cracked in the summer heat and winter cold. Yeah, she was far from perfect.

  No sense in dwelling on something she couldn’t change. “Just worried about what’s going to happen.”

  Now he was the one frowning. “I can smell a lie. If you don’t wish to tell
me, that’s fine. Just don’t lie.”

  Shit, she hadn’t intended to drive a wedge between them. “You’re right. I evaded. Maybe that’s not fair, but nothing about this situation is. What good would it do to tell you I’m worried about dying? I’m also worried about living. What happens then?” Before he could utter a word, she held up her hand to stop him. “Not now. Please don’t say anything. We need to concentrate on whoever is behind those email messages.”

  His lips firmed but he gave her a curt nod of agreement. “You’re absolutely right. Our best bet is to go to this club—the Dark Side.” He practically sneered the name. Not that she blamed him. For a club that likely catered to vampires, it wasn’t very original. At least it didn’t have the words blood or suck in the name.

  “Maybe we’ll get lucky and pick up some useful intel.” His words were clipped, his tone cool.

  Gone was the playful lover. In his place was the enigmatic man she’d only caught glimpses of. He’d been different with her from the very beginning.

  Well, she’d gotten what she’d wanted. Total professionalism. Why did that make her sad?

  She reached out and touched his arm, only to have him pull away. Unsure what to say or do, she let her hand drop back down by her side.

  “I’ll gear up.” Needing time alone to compose herself, she left him in his office and went to where her coat was stored.

  Focus on the hunt, on finding out who’s behind all this.

  The sooner they were done, the sooner they could both put all of this behind them.

  A sense of loneliness swamped her. She ignored it as she picked up her sword and studied the blade for sharpness.

  …

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Asher wanted to kick the desk but refrained. It was a favorite piece, and given his current mood, he could easily destroy it. Plus, the ruckus would bring Jo back to investigate, and he needed some space.

  She’d lied to him.

  Okay, maybe not lied, but she’d sidestepped the truth until he’d confronted her. “She’s entitled to her own thoughts,” he muttered. But he didn’t like it. He’d also handled it badly.