Seduced By Darkness

by Delilah Devlin

  Their lips circled and ate. His tongue stabbed into her mouth, licking, scraping the tips of her sharp fangs, drawing his own blood to pool with hers.

  Still supported by his large hand, Chessa’s head rocked and her body undulated beneath his where she lay trapped, blanketed from chest to toes. His height and breadth thrilled her, overwhelmed her.

  At last, he lifted his head and gave her lips a quick hard kiss. “Get on your belly,” he said, dragging himself up and to the side.

  “I thought you wanted me off my knees,” she said, but turned and lay down on her stomach.

  “I have another plan.”

  The mattress rose beside her and his bare feet padded on the wooden floor. Not far, to her dresser. Something scraped the dresser, then he was coming back.

  She squealed when he gripped her legs and tugged her sharply toward the end of the bed, draping her hips over the edge.

  She planted her feet on the floor. So this was how he’d take her.

  “We’ll need a pillow.” He reached beyond her gaze to the top of the bed, snagged a pillow and stuffed it under her hips.

  Forced onto her tiptoes, she felt less sure of his intent.

  When the first sharp slap landed on her up-tilted bottom, she gasped, and then she released a deep sigh, curling her fingers into the bedding. He’d found her hairbrush. The flat side made a very satisfying crack.

  He warmed the backs of her thighs and the fleshy globes of her ass with successive slaps.

  At the beginning, she waited in breathless anticipation of each stroke. Gradually, she was squirming, groaning, lifting toward him. Finally, begging him out loud. Juiced, swollen, her pussy leaked fluids into the bedding beneath her. “Nic, my cunt. Please, slap my cunt.”

  His hand rested on her bottom between strikes. Testing her warmth? But never glancing against the part of her weeping for attention.

  A finger slid between her pussy lips. He brought it to her mouth and she licked it clean, tasting herself, tasting him. She tried to suck it into her mouth but he drew away.

  Sharp, natural bristles swept her bottom. He parted her buttocks and scraped the bristles down the crease, raking over her asshole.

  She jerked, her breath catching. She held her breath when he brushed the moist hairs covering her pussy, sweeping up, then down.

  The brush landed on the bed beside her and then his lips pressed kisses to her ass, his tongue licked along the crevice, sliding over her sensitive little hole, then lower, to tuck inside her vagina.

  Chessa’s toes curved painfully as she pressed into the floor, trying to raise her buttocks higher.

  His tongue flickered and stabbed until her pussy opened and closed, trying to pull him deeper.

  His thumb traced the path upward and circled her hole. Reflexively, she tightened.

  He made a tsking sound, telling her resistance would do her no good.

  “Nic! God, please.” But what did she want? For him to stop his torture? For him to take her cunt again?

  Or did she crave it in the ass? He’d trained her to take his girth. Forced her past any inhibitions. He’d have her however he wished, and she’d love it.

  One thick thumb pressed inward, easing past the circle of muscle that gripped him tight.

  A ragged inhalation and she was poised, waiting for him to stretch her farther—well past comfortable, dipping into pain.

  His tongue stroked over her clit, caressing the hood stretched tight over the burgeoning knot. Still, he worked his thumb into her ass, circling his wrist to loosen the muscle.

  Chessa sobbed and rubbed her nipples on the comforter. She needed more, needed him plunging inside her. “Jesus, Nic. Fuck me!”

  He withdrew, rising behind her. His hands spread her buttocks, his thumbs pressing on either side of her asshole. Then the thick, blunt head of his cock nudged her there, pushing into her, stretching her. The tight ring of muscle held fast, resisting his entry. Spittle dropped into her crease and he rubbed his crown in it, and then pressed into her again.

  “Breathe,” he growled. “Let me in.”

  Chessa didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath and let it out slowly, moaning when his cock pushed past the tight ring and entered her.

  His hands bracketed her hips and lifted her higher and he angled his hips to deliver short glides forward and back, easing deeper into her until she was taking all of him.

  Beyond thought, she was a trembling well of sensation. Almost every erogenous zone she had was stroked and caressed.

  As he fucked in and out of her ass, her legs dangled, her bottom cushioned the slap of his lower belly, adding heat to the flesh he’d already warmed. He didn’t just hold her still, he moved her forward and back, so that her breasts scraped the comforter. His balls banged against her pussy. Only her clit remained inviolate—but it swelled and ached.

  His strokes sharpened, his hands gripped her ass hard. He was close. God, so was she.

  “Not enough!” he rasped. “I need to touch you.”

  “Jesus, don’t stop now.”

  “Come with me.” He leaned over her, maintaining the connection, and pushed her toward the center of the bed. Then an arm hooked beneath her belly, raising her.

  “What about my knees?”

  “I’ll get you pads,” he growled. “Have to touch.” Then his hands slid around her belly, smoothed down to reach between her legs, and he resumed his strokes.

  Chessa drew a hissing breath. She didn’t know how much more she could take. Then his fingers thrust inside her, his thumb scraped her clit, and her cunt convulsed.

  The orgasm swept over her and her back arched, her bottom pressing deeper on his cock. His hand closed around her shoulder and pulled her up and she leaned her head on his shoulder as he bit deep.

  His release was quieter than hers. His strokes shortened, quickened, and then he groaned against her neck.

  Chessa heard it as darkness swept over, and she screamed.

  Only Nicolas had ever made her scream.

  Shadows lengthened in the room as Chessa slept. Nicolas checked his watch and set it on the nightstand. Time to wake her. Time to talk.

  He knew what she’d say. It wasn’t her problem.

  How could he convince her that this was bigger than either of their histories? A monster was on the loose. She would think he’d primed her, using sex to get her to agree to join him. Chessa didn’t trust anyone and would doubt his motives most.

  Because she wanted a reason to send him away.

  He rolled to his side and scooted closer to her back, tucking his knees behind hers, placing his arm around her stomach to pull her closer. “Chessa, wake up,” he whispered into her ear.

  “Mmmm…” She stirred and snuggled her butt closer, rubbing against his cock. She relaxed for a few moments longer, then jerked against him. “Shit! I fell asleep.”

  When she tried to bolt from the bed, he held her back. “We have to talk.”

  “Not now, Nic,” she said pushing at his arm. “Don’t you know we have a city under water? I only came home for a quick shower and a change of clothes.”

  “We’ve got bigger problems.”

  “What could possibly be bigger? We have thousands of people crowding into the Quarter, including rogue scum looking for prey. I have to be out there.”

  “The crypt was compromised.”

  Chessa sucked in a deep breath, her body going still. “Sounds like you’re going to be busy,” she said quietly.

  Nicolas gritted his teeth. It was that or shake her. “I need you with me.”

  “You have a security team at your command. You don’t need me.”

  “I need you on the council.”

  “Never.” She bit the word out like a bullet.

  “Inanna’s too powerful. No one will stand up to her. She won’t react well when she finds out.”

  She wriggled against him, trying to free herself. “Not…my…problem.”

  “That’s what I thought you’d say,�
�� he said, sliding his thigh over hers to hold her still.

  “Is this why you’re here?” she asked, her voice rising.

  “I need you.”

  She snorted. Her entire body lay stiff and resistant beneath his. “Obviously. Let me up.”

  “Chessa—” He stopped. She was too angry to listen. Perhaps he should give her a little time. “All right. I won’t ask again.” Nicolas squeezed her, and then kissed her shoulder. As soon as he removed his arm from her belly, she rolled from the bed to her feet in one fluid movement.

  When she faced him, her expression was devoid of emotion. Her eyes glittered. “You got yours tonight. I got mine. Now, we keep to our own turf. Like we agreed.”

  Rising on one elbow, he nodded. Give her space. Let her think. When all hell broke loose, she’d have to listen.

  “I have to shower again. Lock the door behind you.” She turned on her heel and strode to the bathroom, closing the door quietly behind her.

  He wished she’d slammed it. If she blew hot, she’d come around sooner.

  At a slow simmer, she’d give new meaning to stubborn.

  CHAPTER

  3

  Chessa slammed a palm against the vending machine, jostling it, but not loosening the Coke hung up in the mechanism.

  She cursed and gave it another slam, then heard a throat clear behind her.

  “Go easy, Cheech. That’s public property.” Police Lieutenant Byron Williams stood behind her wearing a lopsided grin.

  Chessa aimed a killing glare his way, but Byron didn’t scare easily.

  His smile widened in his dark face. “Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?”

  Chessa let his comment slide, wincing inwardly at how close he’d nailed it. She’d mentored him when he was a rookie cop. She never commented on her private life—something he knew all too well. “Did May and the kids get out okay?”

  Byron’s smile dimmed, and he nodded. “They’re staying with her parents in Baton Rouge.”

  “That has to be rough. Your house?”

  Byron grimaced and shook his head. “Can’t get out there. Word is the whole block’s underwater. Guess I’ll just have to wait and see.” He fed the machine another dollar and his Coke pushed hers down. “Meantime, we gotta keep busy. The streets are gettin’ meaner by the minute, and we’re short-handed.” He bent and pulled out two cans.

  Chessa grabbed hers and held it away, popping the top and cursing again when foam spat over her hand. She ignored his chuckle and drank down the soda in several gulps.

  His eyebrows rose. “A little thirsty?”

  “This’ll do for now.”

  “Why don’t you cut through the Quarter and check out the blood bars? Kill two birds. Reba has reports from hotels complainin’ about guests stackin’ up in the rooms. You know what that means.”

  Chessa grimaced. Only a vamp on a binge could add a little carnage to the chaos.

  Byron held up his Coke and started to turn. The wicked glint in his eyes had her stiffening. “Oh, and just to make your life a little easier, you got a new partner.”

  Surprised, since she’d only reported Rene’s desertion that morning, she called after him, “Wait a damn second! Who the hell did you find in the middle of all this shit to take Rene’s place? You know I need a little time to take care of his desk—”

  Byron just shook his head. “Came from higher up. Not a thing you can do. Just suck it up, Tomas. Seemed like they knew it was gonna happen.”

  Chessa drew in a deep breath, trying to calm the sparks setting off a blaze of red-hot anger. How could the brass drop this on her now? Every cop deserved downtime after losing a partner. “Where is he?” she blurted, barely holding back the list of expletives she’d rather let loose.

  Byron winked. “Checkin’ out his new digs. Almost wish I had time to make the introductions.” He chuckled as he left.

  “Dammit!” Chessa stalked toward the cubicle she’d shared with Rene for four years. “The bastard had better keep his paws off Rene’s things,” she muttered.

  She rounded the corner, drawing up short at the sight of a broad pair of shoulders stretching a dark T-shirt and a round, tight ass nicely displayed in many-times-washed blue jeans. That great ass was bent over a desk drawer. “Those aren’t your things,” she bit out.

  Her new partner straightened and glanced over his shoulder, giving her a slow, delicious once-over that left her hot and confused.

  How could you meet somebody and be immediately aroused and pissed off at the same time? She’d had handsome before—Nicolas was on par with this one’s rugged good looks. Dark, wavy brown hair worn a little long, wide, muscled shoulders, a taut trim waist and flanks shouldn’t leave her salivating.

  Must have been the smile. A slight amused curl of firm lips. Or maybe the steady stare of his gorgeous blue eyes that seemed to note every detail of her appearance, but didn’t ogle or hold a hint of any judgment. His gaze was appreciative, assessing—as though gauging her for game.

  She’d worn a T-shirt and leather pants despite the muggy heat outside. She’d been feeling a little Goth—no makeup, but she’d ringed her eyes in black. She felt like a ghoul, planning a hunt—the scarier she looked, the better.

  But she hadn’t planned on having to drag a partner around behind her. Even one who ignited every red corpuscle of her being into a sensual frenzy. He’d be a major distraction.

  How could she get rid of this guy? She lifted her chin.

  She’d let out The Bitch.

  “This isn’t a good time,” she snarled. “Let’s do this another day—like say, never?”

  His firm jaw eased, and his smile deepened. “Um…actually, orders are I’m to stick to you like glue.”

  “That order couldn’t have come from Chief Esterhazi, he knows better.”

  “Nope, not anyone you can rattle. Name’s Alex, by the way.” He held out his hand.

  Chessa ignored it—not wanting to touch him. She wondered if he’d been warned what she was, or if the brass were amusing themselves finding out how the new guy fared when he realized his partner wasn’t human.

  Alex glanced around the cubicle, his gaze touching on the disorder.

  Chessa picked up documents from Rene’s tray and put them down—ignoring the way Alex took over Rene’s space.

  When he sat in Rene’s chair causing it to squeak, she spun and stared down at her own desk. Yesterday, Rene had pulled her across his lap and fucked her in that same noisy chair.

  She dragged in a deep breath and reminded herself Rene wasn’t coming back. So she had a new partner. For now. How the hell could she get rid of him?

  Well, if she had to endure him dogging her steps tonight, then maybe she’d throw a few surprises his way. If she was lucky, she’d send him running home. “It’s chaos out there. If you’re coming with me, you’re gonna have to move quick. We’re going on foot. Most of the roads are bumper to bumper where they aren’t covered in water. Besides most of the places we’re heading are all here in the Quarter.”

  Alex sat back in the rolling chair, leaning as far as the old metal and vinyl chair would allow. He raised his arms and put his hands behind his head, which stretched his dark T-shirt across a drool-worthy chest.

  Chessa forced her glance away.

  God, he pissed her off. Probably knew exactly what he was doing, too. How had he gotten under her skin so quickly?

  “So, what are we looking for?” he asked, lazy amusement in his voice.

  “Nests.” She turned away and picked up the stack of reports Reba had left on her desk.

  A metal whine told her he was poking around Rene’s desk—the top drawer where he’d kept his stash of butterscotch candies. The crinkle of the bag indicated Alex had decided to help himself to one.

  She hoped he choked on it.

  “Where’d your partner go in such a rush?” he asked, his voice a delightful blend of whiskey and growling male. “Did he evacuate? Doesn’t sound like much of a cop, if he’d aband
on his job at a time like this.”

  Her back stiffened and she shot him a glare over her shoulder. “The circumstances were beyond his control,” she ground out. “That’s all you need to know.” Besides, what would he say if she told him Rene had followed a Born vampire through a time portal opened by an ancient mage to aid her escape from rogue Revenants intent on making sure she never bore Rene’s child? He’d probably say, “Yeah sure. Tell me another one.”

  His dark eyebrows rose, and his lips pursed in a silent whistle. “You two close?”

  Annoyed with herself for taking his bait, she tossed one uninspiring report after another onto the bulging heap in her top drawer and slammed it closed.

  “You two were covering that murder suspect, Natalie Lambert.”

  Chessa tamped down anger that rose to burn the back of her throat. “She was a person of interest.”

  “Is there a difference?”

  “She wasn’t the killer.” She glanced down the list of addresses left in her hand and ripped out the page with the likeliest ones. Grabbing her leather jacket where she’d left it slung over the back of her chair, she shrugged into it, pulling it over her holster.

  “I take it we’re ready to roll.”

  “Just don’t get in my way.” She stalked out of the cubicle, heading through the drab hallway to the steps that led down to the station floor and onto the street. She walked fast, hoping he’d get the message and keep the hell away.

  Exiting the station, she was struck again by the sights that assailed her.

  Water, water everywhere…

  People in varying degrees of dress and oddly matched clothes, as though they’d scavenged along the way to cover themselves, milling on street corners, eyeing the few uniformed cops with suspicion and calculation in their gazes.

  Unless one of them pulled a gun, she’d leave any trouble to the fellas on the beat. Stolen appliances and baby milk weren’t high on her list of sins. Since lockup was already overfilled, she wasn’t willing to babysit until they could move a prisoner.