Sweat beaded his brow as he fought the need to drive into her, to fuck her and mark her as his.
This time when she moved away, he released her, giving her the freedom she desired. “You’re so strong.” She left a fiery trail of hot kisses down his abdomen.
He reached up and gripped the headboard to keep from reaching for her.
She made a sound of pleasure when she reached his cock. “You’re big all over, aren’t you?” she teased.
“Morrigan,” he warned. His patience was wearing thin. The bed frame creaked beneath his punishing grip. He released it before he broke it.
“All this for me.” She wrapped her strong hand around his cock and pumped.
“Yes,” he hissed from between clenched teeth. He was in Heaven. No, this was even better.
Giving a sultry laugh, she skimmed her hand from the base all the way to the tip. Instead of going down again, she ran the flat of her palm over the flared head, gathering the moisture seeping from the tip.
His hips shot up. His hands fisted in the covers, his fingers ripping through the fabric.
“Like that, do you?” The teasing light in her eyes touched something deep inside him. When was the last time someone had played with him? He wasn’t sure anyone ever had. His existence had been about fighting and winning, about surviving. He fulfilled his basic needs for food and shelter and the occasional fuck.
This was beyond his experience.
When she lowered her head, he almost lost it. Her warm breath made his cock twitch. He gritted his teeth to keep from coming when she lapped at the broad head, circling it with her tongue. The tips of her fingers outlined the karambits inked on his lower stomach, following the curves of the deadly blades.
His groan vibrated through his entire body. His balls were so damn heavy and full they were about to burst.
He bit down on his bottom lip, drawing blood, to keep from begging her to take him into her mouth.
All her attention was on his dick. She licked her lips and finally sucked the tip, swirling her tongue around before taking him deeper.
“Fuck, yes.” He gripped the back of her head in his hand and urged her on. It was a damn good thing he’d painted the blocking symbols on the outer walls of his home, as he’d kill anyone who tried to stop them.
Morrigan was a firebrand, burning bright. It wasn’t just the reddish tones in her hair, but the light within her. When she hummed, the vibration skated up and down his shaft.
He grabbed her free hand and shoved it between his legs. Her laugh was sultry, that of a temptress. Her fingers caressed his balls, massaging the taut globes before she cupped them.
Fucking perfect.
“I’m coming,” he warned, to give her time to pull away.
She made another of those sexy humming sounds that drove him crazy. Roaring her name, he came hard and fast. His entire lower body lifted right off the bed, his heels digging into the mattress.
All the light disappeared. The shadows wrapped around them, shielding them from the rest of the world. He’d called them without thought as protection.
Morrigan startled but kept on sucking him, prolonging his release.
When it was done, he fell back against the mattress. The shadows retreated, and the ambient lighting returned.
He was strangely satisfied, yet not.
“My turn.” He grabbed her and flipped her easily, bringing her down beside him. Any other woman would have screamed. Morrigan laughed. Not at him or his reaction to her, but with undisguised pleasure.
Maybe she was a siren. He’d never seen one. They truly were elusive, living in the deepest parts of the oceans, their songs luring men to their doom.
Morrigan’s laugh ensnared him.
He kissed her, cutting off the sound of pleasure, stealing it for himself. Their teeth clinked as they struggled to get closer, both of them desperate. Their tongues advanced and retreated until they were both breathless.
Time was running out for them. The knowledge raced through his blood and churned in his gut. But she was with him now, and he would have her.
“I’m going to fuck you.”
…
The salty and hot taste of Maccus was still on her lips. His musky scent surrounded her. She loved touching his big body, stroking his shaft, feeling the pulse of his blood pumping through the veins that ran up and down his hard length.
Now he was kissing her like he’d never get enough of her. He’d moved so quickly, flipping her over with an easy show of strength before pouncing.
Covering her with his big body, he stole her breath with one kiss after another. She speared her fingers through his hair. It was hot as hell to taste his essence on her tongue while he kissed her.
He ripped his mouth from hers and stared, his chest heaving as he panted. She sucked in much-needed air.
“I’m going to fuck you.” He glared at her, his shoulders tensing, as though he expected an argument.
Not going to happen. She ached to have him inside her, his cock stretching her, filling her. Her core spasmed.
“Okay.” The word was barely out of her mouth when he buried his face against her neck. Shivers ran down her spine, and goose bumps rose on her arms when he grazed his teeth over the sensitive skin.
Working his way down, he ran his tongue along the delicate line of her collarbone. Her nipples, already hard points, ached to the paint of pain.
She cupped her breasts, trying to get relief.
“Mine.” It was a statement of possession, plain and simple. A thrill went through her. For a brief second, she wished he was staking a permanent claim for her and not just a temporary one for her body.
His eyes narrowed—his lips were set in a firm line. Her tattooed, dark lover was scary enough to frighten both Heaven and Hell.
Mine. If only temporarily.
Tears pricked her eyes, shocking her.
Ignoring the ache in her heart, the yearning for something she couldn’t have, she took what she could. “Yours.” For now.
He brushed her hands aside and rubbed his palms over her nipples. Her entire body undulated, following his movements.
“Harder.”
He grunted and tweaked the nubs with his thumbs and forefingers. By the time he finally lowered his head, she was ready to scream in frustration. Relief finally came when he took one nipple into his mouth. His hair feathered over her breast.
The man was thorough. He licked and nibbled and sucked, gauging her reactions, learning what drove her crazy.
Was it possible to die from arousal?
She grabbed one of his hands and dragged it down her body, shoving it between her legs. One thick finger pushed inside her, and stars exploded behind her eyes.
“Yes.” Screaming, hips pumping, she came—all the pent-up tension released in an explosion of pleasure.
“Kill me now,” she muttered as she dragged a pillow over her face. She’d gone off so fast it was embarrassing.
He yanked the pillow away and tossed it aside. “Don’t hide from me.” His glare was as fierce as his words.
Clamping his hands around her hips, he lifted her to his mouth and dragged the flat of his tongue over her clit.
“Oh, God.” Still riding the high from her orgasm, her eyes practically rolled back into her head.
Tremors shook her; the air was almost impossible to gasp. Every inch of her flesh was sensitive to the slightest change in pressure. When he blew a warm breath on her slick folds, her inner muscles clenched.
“Fuck me,” she ordered. She had to have him inside her.
Rather than plunge into her, he flipped her over onto her stomach and pushed her legs wide, mounting her from behind. He was so damn big and seemed even larger in this position. Her inner muscles rippled around him, stretching to admit him. The heat of his shaft as he filled her, hi
s unbridled need, made her come alive.
She pushed up on her hands and knees and shoved back. Throwing her head back, she moaned as the new position drove him even deeper. They were intimately joined, but it still wasn’t enough.
Morrigan hungered for more than sexual release, yearned for closeness, true intimacy, trust, and even love. She wanted that with Maccus. It was too soon to love. Maybe it was the loneliness taking over. All she knew was she craved it.
She’d wear the bruises from his hands on her hips but didn’t care. His desperation, his desire for her, was a balm for her ragged soul. At this moment, someone cared.
His thrusts were short and hard. Every time he withdrew, she sucked in a breath until he drove deep again, stimulating every nerve ending inside her. How had she lived for so long without ever knowing this kind of pleasure existed? It pushed aside all else in its wake, leaving her craving more, reaching for completion once again.
He slid one hand between her legs and brushed his thumb over her clit. The tension released in the sweetest rush, and all her energy deserted her. She collapsed in a sweaty, limp heap onto the mattress.
Maccus dragged her hips back up and pistoned in and out of her. A roar shook the room, and then his warmth filled her.
He fell on top of her, blanketing her entire body, offering at least the illusion that she was protected, cared for.
Closing her eyes, she savored the moment, secreting it in her heart to keep it safe.
Next thing, I’ll be writing hearts with our initials in my diary.
If she had one, which she didn’t.
No matter how much she might wish differently, they hadn’t made love. This was hot and heavy sex, a release of hormones and energy—not a declaration of undying devotion or the start of a relationship.
He rolled onto his back. Her skin cooled, and she shivered. It wasn’t just the lack of heat making her chilly. It was the emotional separation.
She turned her head on the pillow so she could see him. His eyelashes were dark and long, almost feminine. Why hadn’t she noticed that before? Maybe because he was so darn masculine. Any sign of softness seemed oddly out of place. There was certainly none to be found in him.
He turned his head and studied her, his black eyes deep and fathomless. “Was I too rough?”
She shook her head. The pillowcase rustled, making a scrunching sound. Lying side by side in bed with the sweat still evaporating from her body, their voices low, was so intimate. “You were perfect.” Shit, she hadn’t meant to say that. “It was perfect,” she amended.
She closed her eyes to block him from her view. It was stupid to feel vulnerable. Nothing had changed between them.
But something had shifted inside her. And that wasn’t good. She couldn’t afford to lose her edge, to get soft.
But could she kill Maccus if the opportunity presented itself? Did she still want to?
Better to burn in Hell for eternity than hurt a good man. And in spite of his past and all he’d been through, he was a good man.
When he stroked the side of her face, she kept her eyes closed, soaking up the caring and warmth. Real or not, it didn’t matter. She needed it. Her existence, always hunting demons, had worn her down, drained her.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
She finally opened her eyes. “Nothing.”
The soft light in his eyes vanished until they were black obsidian once again, but there was nothing to be done about it. She pulled herself up and leaned against the headboard.
The rocking sounds of Five Finger Death Punch’s “Wrong Side of Heaven” erupted in the room.
“What’s that?”
That was the sound of responsibility, a reminder of who and what she was. She rolled out of bed and found her pants, tugging her cell phone out of the pocket. “It’s my boss.”
“Lucifer?”
“No, Emmett. He’s my immediate supervisor.” She answered the call. “Hey, boss.” It wasn’t easy to speak with him as though nothing had changed in her life.
“I said you’d have some downtime, but something has come up.” His tones were clipped and precise. He didn’t care in the least about her. All that mattered to him were his quotas. If his hunters didn’t perform, he was the one who had to explain it to his boss. That kind of misery trickled down, and the hunters always got the worst of it.
“What do you need?” There was nothing more she could say. As far as he was concerned, she was on the job, the same as always.
“Low-level guy.” Papers shuffled in the background. It never failed to amuse her that her supervisor was buried in paperwork. Come to think of it, that administrative bullshit really was hell.
“Goes by the name of Speed,” Emmett continued. “Where do they get these ridiculous names?” he muttered. “Last seen at a club called The Inferno. How clichéd. I’m not sure exactly where it is, only that you’re the closest hunter. Cuffs have been sent to your motel room.”
“Time?” Sometimes there was a specified time limit on her bounty, sometimes not. She’d never figured out why that was the case.
“Nonspecific, but faster is always better.” Having said his piece, Emmett hung up. She ended the call and tucked her phone away.
“I have another demon to hunt.”
“I heard.”
No surprise, with his advanced senses. With all the skills he had, that would be the least of them. “I need to get back to my motel and pick up the cuffs.” It was her only way to detain the demon. They were also a beacon that would allow Emmett to do a pickup.
Maccus rolled out of bed and dragged on his pants. “If you don’t?”
“Then I’m in breach of my contract, and it is back to Hell for me.” His bare chest and the intricate tattoos drew her attention. At one point, she was sure her fingers had stroked metal and not flesh, like she could lift the knife right off his chest.
“Lucifer is ramping up the pressure, drawing us out.” Maccus glared at her as though she was somehow responsible. “Does he think I’ll send you out there without me?”
“I gave up wondering what motivated him a long time ago.” But she did feel better that she wouldn’t be heading out there by herself. She’d never had a partner, never had backup. It was discouraged by management. They didn’t want hunters to form any ties that might run deeper than their obligation to Hell.
They did everything possible to nip anything that might lead to a rebellion, which included friendships. No, they did the opposite, sometimes pitting hunters against one another for a bounty. Loser gets an all-expense-paid vacation to Hell, a getaway to somewhere warm during the winter months. Or, in her case, somewhere even colder.
Chilled to the bone, she shivered. “You don’t have to go with me,” she told him. She was used to being alone. “You can stay here and ride this out.” There was no reason for both of them to die, and that’s what the angel and devil wanted.
Maccus shook his head. “For the time being, we stick together.”
She gave a curt nod, trying not to show how relieved she was. It would be hard enough to focus on hunting a demon without having to worry about all the rest.
This also meant they couldn’t go to the gallery tonight, as planned. She wasn’t sure if she was disappointed or relieved.
“Do you know The Inferno?” Made sense to ask since he lived in New York.
“No, but we’ll find out.” He walked away from her, something he did way too often for her liking. It wasn’t personal. He was used to living alone, to only being concerned about himself. He was done talking, so he left.
She grabbed her clothes and yanked them on. Maccus was already at his desk, working at his laptop.
“Club is about a half-hour walk. Faster by subway,” he told her.
“I have to go back to my motel room first,” she reminded him. “I need those cuffs.”
“Might as well grab anything you need while you’re there and move in with me until this is settled.” He glanced up from the keyboard.
She’d be stupid to turn down his offer. This was as close to a sanctuary as she was likely to get.
She closed the space between them, threw one of her legs over his lap, and straddled him. “Thank you.” When he frowned, she traced her thumb across his bottom lip. “No matter what happens, this time together has been the best in—”
He kissed her. No, he inhaled her. Their embrace was hard and frantic with a hint of desperation. She dug her fingers into his shoulders to anchor herself as he slanted his head, their tongues fighting. Eventually, the kiss softened, becoming less a battle and more a sharing, a give and take.
When he leaned back, they were breathless.
“You’re welcome.” His blunt reply was so him. He’d never give a woman flowery words, and that was fine with her. She’d much rather have him by her side, blade in hand. Especially since she had no idea what was coming next.
Chapter Eleven
Maccus kept one eye on Morrigan and the other on the crowd as they walked into The Inferno. It was early, but the club was already hopping. The DJ was set up at the back of the room, fist pumping in time with the beat. People crowded the dance floor, gyrating to the pounding music.
In a couple of hours, it would be pure bedlam.
The bouncer on the door had taken one look at him and simply opened the door. The mood he was in? No one wanted to piss him off. Even the people in the lineup outside had kept their mouths shut.
She was staying with him. They’d gone by her hotel, picked up the cuffs and some of her gear, and taken it back to his place. They’d agreed she’d keep the room in case her boss came looking for her. If she needed more clothes, he’d order them. Overnight shipping was a beautiful thing.
It was still somewhat of a shock that he’d voluntarily invited someone to share his space. Only temporarily, but it was the first time he’d even considered such a thing.
Fury Unleashed Page 10
