Dark Awakening

by T. A. Grey

  Standing on her toes and she brought her mouth a breath away from his. His eyes burned like coals at her. "You may only have me during my cycle and no time after that." His eyes darkened at the threat, but he nodded and captured her lips in a brutal kiss that curled her toes.

  Tongues licked and dueled and lips meshed over and over, their breaths mingling sweetly. His hands cupped her fleshy bottom and pulled her tighter against him. She went wild. Crying out and wrapping her legs around his waist, her hips pumping to find a release that wasn't there.

  He broke their kiss with and chuckled. "Relax, lumara. I've got you." He carried her up the stairs and into a bedroom. Alison couldn't stop herself from studying his room as he set her on the bed. She was shocked to be sure.

  Three wooden cabinets with glass windows sat in three of the room's corners. Inside was what looked like different kinds of keepsakes. Before Alison realized what she was doing, she was off the bed and looking at one. She noted that instead of cold, hardwood floors there was a plush rug beneath her naked feet. His cabinet reminded her of her own, holding one's most precious items. His wasn't broken by a psychopath though.

  The cabinet wasn't wide probably only a foot and a half, but it was taller than her. Some shelves held pictures of Rome with his two brothers and sisters smiling or looking serious. There was no doubt that they were siblings. Each of them had the same strong nose, high cheekbones, and thick hair.

  The picture that caught her eye though was of a child held in his mother's arm and a smiling man with his arm wrapped around the woman's shoulder. His parents. Alison knew the Kategan parents died in a terrible car accident by a drunk driver. The incident had brought waves of grief across the lykaen community.

  Alison could still remember her father shaking his head in disgust at the driver. Rome only looked about ten in the picture, so young. A gold necklace with a locket that looked like the sun sat next to the picture along with a thin band of gold with a red gem in it. It was all so beautiful and personal. She was looking into his past and there was something too intimate about knowing he kept his parent's things. Quickly, she turned to see him looking at her, a soft smile on his face.

  He didn't grin at her this time, but casually accepted—and maybe wanted?—her to see his things. What surprised her more was that she did want to see things about his life.

  For such a strong, virile man he had a bedroom that spoke of strong family and remembrance. It wasn't the masculine love dojo she would have expected. But then again, what did she know about him? Not enough, and too much. More family pictures lined the walls and some had a man she didn't recognize, he had short spiky hair and blue eyes that held just a bit of sadness at the corners. Seeing her interest in the picture, Rome came forward.

  "That's Jackson Marsh, an old military friend of mine."

  "You were in the military?"

  "I did eight years. Jack and I met my second year in, we've been good friends ever since." His eyes warmed at the mention of his friend. Alison understood those feelings that close companionship brought.

  "Did you meet in training or something?"

  He threw his head back and laughed. "Hell no. We met with our fists first. I accidently bumped into the bastard coming around a corner. When I only nodded at him instead of apologizing, well, he didn't seem to take that too kindly. He got in my face and told me to apologize or he'd make me. I couldn't believe the bastard. I'm at least ten times stronger than him and that's not including my lykaen strength.

  "But I was wrong. He surprised me. The man can move, fast, agile, and hard. He has a left hook that nearly took me off my feet. After we exchanged some blows we shook it off, grinned, and went and got a beer. We've been close ever since."

  Men.

  Alison found herself smiling as she skimmed over the rest of the pictures on his wall. More of him and Jack, some showed them in camouflage and sunglasses, their teeth white against their tanned faces; the others which made her temperature rise a few notches, showed them with their shirts off abs hard and curled as they rested on their elbows. They each had the same tattoo echoing each other's biceps.

  There was so much more to this man than she knew. But why did it bother her that she didn't know every single detail of his life. She only wanted to have him sate her lust for the next couple of days, not marry him. Her heart lurched in her chest at the idea. Closing her steel walls around the treacherous organ, she wandered to the rest of the room where brown, knee-high statues of skinny men and curvy women lined the wall. They looked real, like something a native made in a faraway country.

  She never heard him move, but suddenly his arms wrapped around her, hugging her to his body. He was so warm. It would be so easy to relax against his strength and let him take over.

  "What's wrong?" he asked against her hair.

  She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. "Nothing. I was just having some stomach pain from my breeding cycle. Could you, could you help me now?" His body stilled behind hers, whether it was from her rushed lie, or her words, she didn't know. Yet she desperately wanted to know.

  She told herself she wasn't disappointed that he didn't catch her lie. "Well, I can help you with that. Come here." The dark lilt of his voice produced an answering heat in her sex. Her teeth gnawed on her lip as he pushed her back on the bed. "Get up there." He didn't so much say the words as command them. She crawled backwards on his large bed until her head hit the pillows.

  She became all too aware in that moment that she was wearing nothing but a red, flimsy nightgown, and he was looking at her like starving man. His eyes were hard with hunger as they took in every inch of her body from the bare, pale legs, to the dip of her waist and the high curve of her breasts. Her eyes traveled down his bare chest to the ridiculous pajama pants. She gasped at the obvious erection trying to push its way out.

  She squirmed when he didn't say anything, only looked at her, seeming to see more than just her body. He moved to the end of the bed. "Pull up your nightgown. I want to see your pussy."

  * * *

  Fingers trembling, she pulled the liquid satin up until it piled around her hips. His grey eyes darkened like an incoming storm. "Spread your legs, bring up your knees." His voice was like sandpaper.

  She spread her legs one at a time, then bent them and bared her naked sex to his devouring gaze. Her blood raced like molten fire through her body, throbbing and pulsing in need. She didn't miss the high flush that stained his cheeks or the twitch underneath his pajama pants. He swallowed hard and climbed up on the bed like a sleek predator, a dark, ravenous angel.

  His mouth found her ankle and pressed feathery kisses against the skin. Her hips nearly shot off the bed. He caressed her calves, her knees, and the softness of her feet. She felt worshipped, like a precious treasure under his touch. His lips pressed tender kisses up her legs, one at a time, as if he had all the time in the world. He was a man settled in to do a job right, and it took her breath away. He reached her thighs, his touch growing stronger. His big body took up so much space between her legs.

  He trailed hot, openmouthed kisses up her inner thighs nearing the apex of her sex. She was so wet he had to see it, had to feel her heat. She both desperately wanted him there and to push him away.

  "I've never had that," she rushed to say, unable to stop the tumble of words. She covered her blushing face in her hands and cursed herself. Way to be smooth, Alison.

  He only laughed, a deep rich sound that vibrated over her skin. His breath tickled her sex as his cheek nuzzled her thigh. He let out a shuddering breath that tickled her heated pussy. She jerked and he groaned a dark husky sound that made her think of wild, hard sex with a stranger.

  Big hands squeezed her innermost thigh before pushing them. She heard him inhale and sigh a second before she felt the feathery, velvet touch of tongue on her lips.

  "Oh, God!" she cried out, her hips jerking at the light touch. He threw an arm over her hips and the other found her breast and began to torment her nipple with
expert fingers. She was being assaulted on all fronts. It was delicious, it was untamed, and it was wonderful.

  His lips continued those light, barely there touches, sliding along her creamy wetness, tasting her arousal. He traced long, stiff patterns down the outside of her lips, then up through her center and across her pearly clit. Over and over again. Until her thighs were trembling like a dying leaf in the wind.

  "Please," she begged, her hands digging into the bed sheet.

  He lifted his head for a moment. "Please what?" Alison almost came from the look of pure need he sent her. Color was high in his face, his eyes smoky with arousal. Gorgeous.

  "Please, help me." She didn't mean to nearly shout the words, but she did. His lips twitched at her before he hunkered back down.

  The next touch of his tongue sent her into a dazzling spiral of pleasure that didn't stop until she was shouting. His tongue passed between her wet lips speared into her sex, mimicking what he could be doing with his cock. Alison shook her head back and forth like a madwoman.

  "Yes, more," she cried. His hand tightened on her breast, capturing her nipple and pinching the firm tip, rubbing and circling the bud. His tongue left her aching, pulsing channel to stab her clitoris. It was like feeling real pleasure for the first time. She wanted to cry it felt so good. His tongue found her clit and worked it over and over with quick, velvety stabs.

  "Oh, oh, oooh!" Alison struggled to raise her hips to that expert tongue, because he pressed her down, controlled her. She was the prisoner and he the warden. He worked her flesh quicker until the molten fire inside her core erupted into a tremendous jaw-dropping orgasm. Her thighs shook, hips threatened to jerk out of his tight grasp, but still he held her and delivered each velvety flick until the shuddering waves dissipated like a dying wave.

  Alison fought to catch her breath. Her limbs felt like one solid mass that she couldn't move if she wanted to. Her eyes blinked open and she had to make herself close her mouth. She swallowed hard and tried to comprehend what she just felt, what she just lived through. The man was a god. There was no other answer.

  Her body floating on the aftermath of orgasm, she watched as her predator, her seducer stood and pulled down his pants, then climbed back up over her. She licked her lips at the sight of his ribbed body and long, thick cock bouncing as he dipped on the bed. He was nothing like Conlin. Conlin was thinner, leaner like a swimmer or runner, whereas Rome as built like an ancient fighter raised on a diet of meat, cheese, fruit, and women.

  His elbows settled next to her head, caging her in. His cock pressed against her juicy entrance like a hot silken rod. His lips found hers in a soft, learning kiss. His tongue thrust into her mouth at the same time his cock glided inside. Alison gasped at his thick fullness. There was no more room left inside her. He took up all of it. He retreated a few inches then pressed back in, and again, creating a tight rhythm that had her mouth going dry.

  Suddenly she froze. "Wait, wait. Stop!" He did so immediately, his mouth flattening into a hard line. "A condom. We need a condom. We didn't use one before. I was too...well, you know. We can't do this without a condom."

  Rome's brow furrowed and Alison watched him frown. "No. It is against the lykaen way and you know it. I will not have that unnatural substance inside your body. Only you and me." He punctuated his point by sliding in heavily. She moaned but shook her head.

  "No, I used to make John wear one. I don't want to get pregnant, Rome. Don't you get that? It would be awful for me. For so many reasons."

  "Baby, I'm already inside you. I've already come inside you before. Now relax honey and let me ease you. Don’t worry about it." He retreated and advanced, loving the feel of her walls clamping down on him.

  Her hands latched onto his back, her hips arched toward his in a rocking motion. He hit a particularly good spot and she moaned. "Then, uh, promise, ohh right there, to pull out." He growled what sounded like a curse and stacked her ankles up on his shoulders, his cock never leaving her body.

  From this position everything was tighter, all the pleasure inside her coiled like a rope ready to break loose. He didn't hold back, he leaned forward on one arm and held her breast with the other as his hips hammered into her with brutal, unrelenting strokes that pushed her closer and closer to the edge. She cried out his name, begged him for more, not to stop, uncaring of how emotional she was being.

  He seemed to like it. Sweat pooled along his brow and dropped to his temples before splashing onto her breasts. To see him so worked up over her pushed her just a mere step away from falling.

  As her orgasm exploded through her, shaking her, she still had no idea if he'd pull out. Her legs shook until one of them fell off his sweaty shoulder. He groaned and threw his head back, the tendons in his neck tightening.

  Rome shoved through her quivering pussy feeling each ripple of her orgasm tickle his own from him. As the last ripple faded, he slammed in two, three more times into her tight, wet heat. He barely managed to withdraw in time. He grabbed his cock and pumped the hard wet flesh until jets of his cum sprayed her breasts and stomach.

  Alison moaned at his essence. She wanted to touch the creamy wetness and rub it around her breasts. She watched him collapse next to her, his face stuffed into a pillow and smiled in pride. Yeah, I did that! She wanted to stand up and dance a jig, but felt that might retract her appeal, so instead she went to the bathroom to clean her stomach.

  She heard a floorboard creak behind her and turned to see Rome coming up behind her. She had only a moment to see him standing, tall, strong, and naked before he cornered her in his heat. He wrapped his arms around her and grabbed a washcloth from the sink. Alison closed her eyes and leaned back into his strong body. She heard water running and then felt the soft brush of wet cloth against her stomach.

  "If you would have let me finish inside you then we could still be laying in bed right now." His words hoarse from his orgasm. God, he was so warm. How could anyone produce that much heat? She could easily wrap her body around his and lay in the snow and the snow would melt around them.

  She wanted to be mad at him for what he said. Acting like he'd have a child with her, as if it wasn't a big deal. But she couldn't summon the energy, especially not when he was carefully cleaning her stomach causing all sorts of sensations spinning through her.

  "You've already come inside me once, you know what can become of it. And I'm sure you know why I can't let that happen." She watched his eyes in the mirror. His hand stilled over her stomach and his eyes turned blank before looking away. He shrugged and dropped the washcloth, it landed with a wet splash.

  "Wait," she said when he turned to leave. He looked back at her, his face passive and blank. She hated that she'd put that look there. She yearned to fix it, but didn't know what she'd said. Did he want to finish inside her to actually risk getting her pregnant? The idea was more than a little startling.

  For one, Rome didn't seem like the type ready to settle down for fatherhood and a bonding ceremony. Whether out of guilt or something else, she decided to be honest with him. "If it makes any difference, I loved it when you came inside me...before." Her face flushed hot and turned to make herself busy with folding the wet washcloth into a square.

  Fingers curled over her cheek, turning her face towards his. He smiled and that motion alone made her feel infinitesimally better. "I loved it, too. I also like you a lot. I want to know you better. I want to know everything about you."

  Alison closed her gaping mouth and swallowed, hard. "I can't like you." She closed her eyes, but when she opened them, he was still there. God, did the man ever not look so kind and, well, roguish?

  "And that, Alison, is why I want to know you better."

  He turned and left the room, leaving Alison to ponder what the hell she'd gotten herself into.

  Chapter 8

  Some animal was growling in the room. Sleep faded at the sound of danger. Alison popped her eyes open and darted a glance around the room. She heard the noise again and looked
down to see it was her stomach.

  The other side of the bed was empty and cold. She told herself that it wasn't the empty, cold bedside that left her stomach feeling like it just fell through the floor. She was just hungry, that's all. It took her several minutes of searching to find her red satin nightgown.

  She blushed remembering his order for her up on the bed, then licking her sex as if he liked it. No, like was didn't begin to describe it, he acted as though he had to lick her sex or he'd die. No man had ever touched her like that, made her feel such an intense orgasm. Her sex pulsed with heat, warning her that her thoughts were turning her on.

  Wishing she had a baggy hoodie and jeans now, she went in search of Rome. It didn't take long. She heard the distinct clicking of typing down the hall and followed the sound until she reached an office. He sat at a long wooden desk that held stacks of paper, a large computer monitor, phone, and coffee cup. He still hadn't noticed her so she took a moment to study the room.

  His desk chair was brown leather and looked worn with years of use. Only one window provided any natural light, but the blinds and curtains were closed so the only light was the dimmer overhead one. Two bookshelves nearly as high as the ceiling lined the opposite wall by his computer desk. They were packed full, some even double stacked with books blocking the others out.

  Innate curiosity had her wandering to the bookcase and reading the titles. She heard the clicking stop, but didn't turn around. She heard his chair roll as he got up, but she pretended to ignore him and studied the books. It was like trying to ignore a panther in the same room as you.

  Encyclopedias, dictionaries, thesauruses, contemporary science, mathematics, computer-programming books. Alison shuddered at the amount of texts before her, especially non-fiction. She hated to read, although seldom did she admit that. It was like committing a blaspheme. People frowned at her and looked at her as if she was some malformed alien insect. So she usually lied and said she liked to read fiction. She wasn't proud of herself, but it was better than seeing the shocked scorn on people's faces. Plus it keeps from having to hear about which authors she just needs to try.