A Dark Passion

by Natalie Hancock

  Will Tyroz give into the dark passion of a dhampir?

  After a night of passion with a mysterious beautiful, tattooed woman, Tyroz decides—forty-five years later—to try and find her, but when he hears the news that humans have once again risen, he makes a plan to help Riyzan capture them and find the one hunting for Layla.

  Unaware to Tyroz, Alara waits in the shadows for an opening to take him down, but when they come face-to-face, all she can think about is his hands, lips and tongue touching her as she remembers their one night of heat. Distracted, she’s left open for attack but Tyroz saves her life, and Alara feels as though she’s in his debt.

  Tyroz agrees to keep her safe, realising that having a beautiful assassin on his side will work to his advantage and not wanting to lose her again, but when he finds out she’s a dhampir, he’s torn between killing her, and rekindling the passion they shared once before.

  Can Alara teach Tyroz the true meaning of love, or will his stubbornness get them both killed?

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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  A Dark Passion

  Copyright © 2014 Natalie Hancock

  ISBN: 978-1-77111-822-4

  Cover art by Angela Waters

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by eXtasy Books

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  A Dark Passion

  World of Darkness 3

  By

  Natalie Hancock

  Dedication

  To those who think Master Tyroz deserves a kick-ass awakening.

  Prologue

  Tyroz prowled the club, thick with arousal and packed full of vampires wanting to feed and have sex. As he walked through the throng of dancers, they parted—some whispering, others bowing respectfully.

  Tyroz ignored them all, his eyes on one creature—a beautiful woman dancing seductively by herself, teasing those around her as she moved. White dreadlocks hung down her back and her pale skin made the blue, yellow, green and pink tattoo stand out brightly against the lights that flashed onto her. Dressed only in a tiny dress which showed off her smooth legs that promised pleasure to anyone they wrapped around.

  As Tyroz neared, the beautiful woman opened her eyes and raised her pencil-thin eyebrows when her gaze travelled across his body with interest.

  Ignoring everyone around them, Tyroz pulled the woman close to him and continued the dance she had seduced him with in the first place. With a hand on her hip, and another on her lower back, Tyroz swung his hips in tune with hers, almost growling when she pressed herself tightly against him.

  The woman turned her beautiful brown eyes up to meet his and she smiled widely, flashing her fangs. “Master Tyroz, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” the woman purred, rubbing her body against his again.

  Tyroz growled, pulling her closer. He wanted to capture her lips and leave her breathless. “What’s your name?”

  “Alara Wright,” she replied, running a finger down his chest before meeting his eyes again. “What brings you here?”

  “Hunting,” he growled, gripping her hips tight and rubbing himself against her.

  “Mmm.” Alara closed her eyes and tilted her head back on her shoulders, still moving in sync with Tyroz’s movements.

  He bent his head to her neck and ran his lips along her soft skin, smiling when he heard her let out a breathless moan. She was tiny compared to him—his muscled form overshadowing her slim and petite figure. He held her gently, almost afraid that she would break under his touch.

  Alara grinned, and the peak of her fangs made pleasure shoot through Tyroz. She ran her hand up his chest and tip-toed to put her lips close to his. “Be as rough with me as you like. I don’t break as easily as people think,” she whispered seductively.

  Tyroz growled and lifted her until she wrapped her legs around his waist. Moving fast, he ran out of the club’s main room and into a private room within the basements. As soon as the doors closed, the music above was cut off. Tyroz backed Alara against the wall and kissed her. She responded instantly, moving her lips against his and pulling him closer to her.

  Growling, Tyroz ripped open the front of her dress, exposing her breasts to his touch. He cupped them, pushing them together and bent his head to take one of her nipples into his mouth. Her skin tightened under his tongue and when she moaned, he growled again. He slipped a hand down her panties and in between her slick folds. She gasped and he turned her around, pressing himself against her to hold her up. He turned her face and kissed her, twisting her hair around his left hand and pushing against her.

  She moaned and pushed herself against him. He ran his right hand down her neck and over her breast, causing her to tremble. He played with them gently with one hand while his other hand pulled off her ruined dress and ripped away her panties, making her moan into his mouth,

  When he started to kiss down her neck, tasting her, she arched as he went lower, kissing her shoulder and down her back, keeping his hands on her thighs when he opened them. He slipped two fingers into her slick folds and watched as she coated his fingers when he pulled them out slowly.

  A growl left her, making Tyroz smile and kiss the smooth mounds of her ass. He started to move his fingers fast, making her arch more until she shook. Although he wanted to spend time touching and kissing every inch of her body, Tyroz stood and released himself before easing into her and pulling her back against him, aching too much to wait. He groaned the same time she moaned when she tightened herself around him.

  He pulled out slowly, when she growled. “Faster,” she moaned, arching.

  Tyroz chuckled and slipped his still slick fingers over her clitoris while he moved, still slowly. She moaned and opened her legs wider. Her inner muscles clenched around him and she began to pant.

  “Tyroz…faster.”

  “Antask, call me Antask.”

  “Antask!” She came, moaning his name and clutching his arms enough to draw blood. He slammed himself into her, gripping her hips tight and growling when she sucked him in. He wrapped her dreadlocks around his hand and pulled her head back, kissing her deeply while she came. Sweat slid down her face and in between her breasts, making his cock harden.

  This beautiful creature is going to undo me.

  She cried out when he put pressure on her clitoris, and rested her head on his shoulder while she moaned.

  Tyroz moved faster, watching her breasts bounce and her nipples rub against the wall, her perk nipples hardening with each second. When she reached between her legs and touched his balls, he couldn’t hold in his pleasure as she rolled them in her palm and squeezed them gently. He slammed into her, his balls tightening as he shot himself into her heat as she came again. He groaned, unable to breathe as she continued to milk him until he had nothing left.

  Chapter One

  At the sound of Tyroz’s deep voice, Alara crouched down behind an overgrow
n bush, her dagger already in her hand. She waited.

  Tyroz came into view, his guards flanking him as always and she felt her heart speed up with anticipation slightly. He looked the same as always—tall, well built with brown-black long hair.

  Alara crept closer until she was within jumping distance and waited.

  “Yes, my Lord. I understand. Of course, I will send them down right away.”

  My Lord? Alara wondered who he was speaking to. He wasn’t known for being polite to anyone. It was why most hated him and wanted him dead. Including herself.

  “Of course I will be here when you arrive. Yes, my Lord.” Tyroz hung up and rubbed his eyes. He turned to face his guards. “Find Saugner and Shifter and go to Lord Theraux’s home.”

  Lord Theraux? Why would Tyroz have business with him? He despises the man.

  “Yes Master Tyroz.” The guard bowed before turning and leaving. The others followed close behind, leaving Tyroz alone.

  He went back to rubbing his eyes before he pocketed the phone.

  Alara struck, jumping from her hiding spot and knocking him to the ground. Straddling him, she raised her dagger with both hands, ready to strike. Tyroz gripped her hips with his large hands and she froze, her body coming alive when she remembered the night they had been together forty-five years ago.

  Tyroz had held her hips the same way back then while he drove himself into her with hard and long strokes that had left her breathless for more.

  Alara let out a long breath, feeling as though it had happened a few hours before instead of forty-five years ago.

  The crunch of leaves and snap of twigs sent Alara on high alert, but she wasn’t fast enough to respond when she saw two vampires raise their daggers and throw them at her.

  Tyroz flipped her over and jumped up. There were grunts of pain and sounds of a fight before everything became silent. Alara hadn’t even had time to steady her breathing.

  She rolled over, pushed herself to her feet and glanced at the dead bodies of the vampires on the floor, recognising them to be assassins, just like her. She looked at Tyroz who watched her with interest. She groaned loudly and covered her face with her hands.

  “The last time we were together, you couldn’t wait to jump into my arms. What changed?”

  “Don’t mock me, Tyroz. You know what changed, and now I’m in your bloody debt because of one stupid moment.” Alara could have kicked herself for messing everything up. Why? Why had she hesitated? Why had she let that one night get to her?

  “Do you speak of my death, or the night you were clearly remembering right before you nearly plunged that death dagger into my chest?”

  Alara glared at Tyroz and when he smiled at her, her hand twitched on the dagger in speaking. “You find this funny now, but you wouldn’t have been laughing if I hadn’t frozen.”

  “You regret not killing me?” He seemed surprised as though he was wondering why anyone would want to kill him in the first place.

  “Of course I regret it! I’m an assassin, Tyroz. There are rules—it’s either kill or be killed, and seeing as I’m neither, I’m in your debt because you saved me. I’d rather take death than be by your side.”

  “You weren’t complaining the first time.”

  Alara threw the dagger hard and smiled with satisfaction when it sank into his shoulder and Tyroz grunted with pain. She pulled out one of her smaller, less threatening daggers and pointed it at him. “We don’t speak of that night. No innuendos, no snarky comments. Nothing. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Incredibly so,” Tyroz replied. He pulled the dagger out with another grunt of pain.

  Alara thought she was going to really enjoy herself in Tyroz’s company.

  Chapter Two

  Tyroz rubbed his shoulder as he led Alara through his home, not stopping to give her a tour. Her scent pulsed over him, making him throb with need. He clenched his teeth to stop himself from grabbing her and taking her up the wall like he did all those years ago.

  He could still remember her touch. After taking her up the wall from behind the first time, he’d been quick to have her facing him the second time so he could watch the ecstasy transform her as she came under his touch. He could feel her soft and delicate skin as she wrapped her long legs around him, pulling him in deeper while he pulled on her dreadlocks and nibbled on her throat.

  They’d had sex for hours that night, and in the end he’d got what he wanted and explored her body thoroughly, making sure none of her was left untouched.

  Alara chuckled behind him. “Still hung up on that night, huh?”

  Tyroz stopped with his hands clenched into tight fists. “I can throw you to your assassins, Alara,” he threatened.

  Alara pressed her body against him and cupped him through his trousers. “Honey, by the feel of it, the only place you would throw me, is on your bed.”

  Tyroz spun and pushed her against the wall. A sense of déjà vu washed over him when she wrapped her legs around him and pulled him closer to the heat of her body.

  Alara raised a pencil-thin brow when he faltered. “What are you going to do, big boy?”

  With a growl, he dropped her to her feet and stalked away, trying to ignore her laugh when it followed him down the hall and around the corner. He stopped in front of the first door. “Your room. Get settled in and I’ll send someone up about clothes.”

  “Why don’t you just tell them my size? You explored my body quite thoroughly last time we were together. Surely you haven’t forgotten?”

  No, he hadn’t forgotten. That was the problem.

  Tyroz turned and walked away, more frustrated than ever.

  “Master Tyroz.”

  His men bowed when he entered his training hall, and then left. They knew he preferred to train alone.

  Once alone, he pulled off his t-shirt and stood in front of his punching bag. He attacked it with all the speed and strength he possessed, and slowly his frustrations leaked out of him with each punch. Yet Alara’s face still lingered in his mind and her laugh shattered the peace that came with training, causing him to clench his teeth together, hard enough to slice his tongue open with his fangs. He swallowed the blood and continued to take out his frustrations on the punching bag.

  When it split open, sending sand cascading to the floor at his feet, he inhaled deeply, trying to compose himself before replacing it and starting again. He punched harder and faster with each passing second, and with each passing second, he thought of Alara and his lust grew.

  What was it about her that made him react with just a thought? Why did he want to strip her naked and do everything he did that night all over again?

  Tyroz stopped suddenly, blinking sweat from his eyes.

  Someone was watching him, the stare stabbing daggers into him. He straightened and checked each corner of the room.

  Alara was nowhere to be seen.

  Tyroz gritted his teeth together and fisted his hands to the side. “Alara.”

  Her chuckle made his anger and arousal flare. He despised the woman that dropped down from the ceiling and sauntered up to him.

  Yet she made his body come alive in ways no one else could. He realised he’d felt so empty since he’d left her at the club after their night of passion. It was the only thing keeping her alive now.

  “Why do you train alone, yet are surrounded by all your guards?”

  “Every powerful vampire needs their guards for protection.”

  Alara twisted one of her dreadlocks around her finger and circled him. “I would have thought it would be the opposite. A very powerful vampire would be strong enough to protect himself.”

  “No matter how powerful, strong and important people need protectors.”

  She came into view, smiling. “Are you sure? You don’t exactly do anything that puts you in danger to need protection.”

  Tyroz swung his fist, but suddenly she wasn’t standing where she had been moments before. He stiffened when she tutted behind him and pressed her dagger into his
back.

  “That’s no way to treat a woman, have you no respect?”

  “I am sure if I treated you like a woman, you would kill me on the spot.”

  “Hmm.” She leant forward, pushing the dagger harder against him. “That’s true, but it’s always nice to have a man treat me with gentle hands once in a while.”

  Tyroz chuckled this time, and turned to face the beautiful assassin. “You like to be touched roughly. It was what drew me to you in the first place.”

  She licked her lips slowly and seductively. When Tyroz tried to grab her, she spun away from him. He growled. He wanted her and he wanted her now.

  He reached out to her again and she blocked him with her arms before knocking his hands away. Tyroz moved quickly, grabbed the dagger from her hands, threw it away and grasped the back of her neck, pulling her closer. She ducked and twisted and knocked his feet from underneath him.

  Her sultry laugh made him hard in seconds.

  She straddled him and ran her hands up his stomach and chest. “You can’t just take everything you want, Antask. It’s what will get you hated among others, no matter who you are.”

  “Alara,” Tyroz growled. In all his time alive, he had never given out his name. He had always been called Master Tyroz because of his heritage and had made others call him that when they addressed him once he grew up.

  “If you didn’t want me to say your name, you shouldn’t have told me it in the first place.”

  Tyroz would have told her he regretted telling her, but he knew he would be lying to himself, and knew she would know also. He’d liked hearing his name on her lips as she came, and knew he would again.

  She smiled and leant closer until he felt her breath against his lips. He was just about to close the distance and press his lips to hers, when the footsteps of his guards made him stand so quickly, Alara toppled off him and landed on the floor, growling.