Dark & Stormy Alpha Nights

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  “I cannot get enough of you,” he whispered. He took her hand and led her to the small nook, once a window but now bricked for security reasons.

  “Our room isn’t far,” she protested.

  His words were a throaty growl and he lifted her from the floor and kissed her neck. “Yes, it is.”

  Clíona laughed. She couldn’t help herself. He gave her such joy, and his scandalous attention made their lovemaking even more exciting. Tonight was no exception. He kissed her hard, his lips covering hers with fierce demand. She tasted him as his tongue slipped into her mouth, a masculine combination of ash and Irish whiskey. She raised her leg, hooking her knee at his hip, as his hands weaved into her hair, raising her mouth higher as he pulled her head back. The gentle tug on her scalp made her lower body clench, her sex swollen and slick with wet heat.

  “My love,” she cried in a whisper, when he moved from her mouth to her neck.

  A rumbled like thunder sounded in his chest. He twirled her around into hidden space before setting her on the ledge and pressed her back against the stone wall. Eagerly, he cupped her breasts, and she moaned for more. His hands were large and warm. His touch always ignited a fire within. That was they way of it with dragons.

  He pushed down the top of her dress and gazed at her breasts. With infinite care he brushed the taut peaks, and then he clamped his lips around hardened nipple. The warmth and motion of his tongue made her flesh tingle. She reached for him, to touch him as he touched her, but he whispered, “No, love. This is for you and only you.”

  “’Tisn’t fair,” she muttered, but still, she leaned against the wall, pressed her palms down against the ledge to keep her knees from buckling, closed her eyes, and enjoyed the pleasure he invoked.

  His mouth encircled one nipple, teasing it with too brief suckles before attending to the other in the same manner. His hands kneaded the mounds as he played his torturous game. Sensations rocketed through her, twirling and spinning and making her writhe with the joyous ache of anticipation. Heat coiled in her belly, spun down to her woman’s core.

  “Áillen,” she moaned and jerked her hips forward. “Please…” She grasped at her skirt, trying to pull it up. He lower parts begged for attention, and if he didn’t attend to the need soon, she’d crawl out of her skin.

  When her skirt was at her thighs, his patient tending collapsed. His tongue lapped at her nipples, trading one for the other rapidly. She put her arms around his neck and pulled herself up on him, straddling his waist. She strained upward, her hips moving against his erection barred by their clothing. The roughness of his tongue, the quickness of his movements drove her mad.

  She cried out as he moved away, but hushed when Áillen knelt, lifted her dress completely, and put his mouth against her womanhood.

  “Yes!” she cried out with relief as the tension continued to rise. She shuddered.

  He grabbed her buttocks and pressed her close, his tongue stroking her clit, pausing to drink from her, to lick her unmercifully. Then he kissed her inner lips until he reached the tight, swollen nub. One kiss, then two… he suckled on the tiny knot of flesh.

  “Oh, Áillen. My husband,” she moaned. His strength was the only thing holding her up now. Her legs and arms were both weakened by lust and the rising wave of pleasure.

  Her climax was near, and Áillen knew it, too, because two of his fingers penetrated her when her groans and moans began to echo inside the hidden alcove. When she wiggled her hips for more, he began to stroke her quick, hard.

  Oh yes. Yes…

  “Áillen…Áillen!”

  Her orgasm shattered, and she cried out, bucking against Áillen’s mouth, the feel of his tongue stroking her almost painful now that her body trembled with release. Her legs felt weak and uncoordinated as a newborn colt’s. She tried to move away from his persistent fingers and tongue, but he would not be swayed.

  “’Tis enough,” she gasped, squirming.

  He continued to suckle her, his fingers digging into her buttocks as he sought to give her more pleasure. She nearly swallowed her tongue from the fierce rise of sharp joy. The intensity of this second tingling rush tore a scream from her throat.

  Clíona clutched the wall behind her, trying to find purchase, some way to cling to it so that her treacherous knees wouldn’t buckle. Áillen released her, soothing her clit with his tongue, and then he rose.

  Pure male satisfaction lit his gaze. Without saying a word, he scooped her into his arms and toward their marriage bed.

  ***

  Áillen Kearney memorized his wife’s body, drinking in her scent, a mixture of rose water and earth. He found her elbow-deep in the dirt all the time. The gardens were her domain. He’d never known anyone who loved nature so much, not even his dragon brethren—who preferred sky and wind to all else.

  Some dragon shifters would say mating with a human was beneath their noble and superior bloodlines. Áillen knew that his wife would hold her own against any dragon mate. She was fiercely loyal and loved compassionately. She was more than a dragon mate could be, in fact, because she loved so opening and without guile.

  Her slim hands slid up his chest, her lush body writhing under his touch. He cupped the most intimate part of her. She moaned and rubbed her slick flesh against his palm.

  He trailed soft, slow kisses down the curve of her stomach. He pressed his lips against her belly and wondered at the babe who grew there, his first offspring. He couldn’t wait to see Clíona in the splendid bloom of motherhood. He looked forward to that nearly as much as he looked forward to the birth of his son or daughter.

  But that was months away.

  And now?

  There was only this moment. With her.

  Sweat dewed her pale skin. He licked the tiny droplets, drawing patterns in her pale flesh with his tongue. She sighed and moaned. Ah, she was eager. As was he. He parted her trembling thighs so that he could taste her again. She was as succulent as a ripe berry and just as sweet. He tugged the morsel between his lips and suckled. She arced against his mouth, her restless hands plundering his hair.

  “Please, Áillen,” she begged, pushing against his mouth. “Enough. I need you.”

  He slid his hands under her buttocks and pulled her close, intoxicated with desire. Oh, he was bespelled. She was his goddess, and he would worship her.

  Clíona.

  He stroked her with his tongue; torturing her more with tiny, brief suckles. He would give her what she wanted, what he wanted, but he’d made a game of their foreplay. A game he liked to win. He’d already given her two orgasms, and he would taste one more from her. She moved against his mouth, taking her pleasure with the same joy and innocent wonder as the first time she lay with him.

  She stilled, arched, and cried out, he slipped his tongue inside her, loving the way her sex clenched against his tongue as her fingers clutched at his scalp and pulled his hair. When the climax subsided, he soothed her with long strokes, sipping from her woman’s honey until she collapsed to the bed. He bent low and reluctantly rubbed his face against the coverlet.

  She pulled at his shoulders, her smile one of feminine satisfaction.

  He positioned himself above her and slowly entered. She was wet and ready and tight … he closed his eyes and moaned as he sank into her heat. He had no power to utter a word. Another stroke sent more pleasure rippling through him. She pulled him close, grasping with hungry little hands. Her body arched against him matching his rhythm as he thrust harder and faster. Clíona’s raspy moans battered at his control.

  “More,” she whispered in his ear, her breath feathering his lobe. “More, m’love.” She moved her hips, her hands sliding to grasp his buttocks. He felt that tender moment of ultimate tension, and finally the rush of ecstasy.

  “Áillen!” His name on her lips sent him over the edge into his own fulfillment.

  He sucked in shuddering breaths, waiting for his heart to slow its pace. Grinning, He collapsed next her and drew her into his arms. She snuggl
ed underneath his chin and wrapped a leg around his waist. His mate’s unfettered love left him defenseless, and her capacity for passion made him her slave. She was his, but he knew to the very center of his soul that he was completely hers. Always.

  Note from the Author

  The Dragon's Wife is #7 in The Pack Rules shifter series, by

  New York Times Bestselling Author Michele Bardsley.

  Discover The Dragon’s Wife.

  Learn more about Michele Bardsley at:

  www.michelebardsley.com

  Facebook

  Twitter

  Donor (Dresdan Coven, 1)

  by Amber Ella Monroe

  Part of the Dresdan Coven series

  A torrid vampire romance featuring a heroine with a dangerous addiction to an alpha out for vengeance.

  When District 5 discovers that Elaina has taken sides with the Dresdan vampire race, they put out a bounty—payable to anyone for her live capture. Elaina wants nothing to do with the organization’s immoral experiments and she has since denounced all ties with them. Her vampire lover, Vicq, helped her prevent capture before. As a result of aiding her, he is caught and forced to appear before Master Vampire Russo and sentenced to die for his violation of putting the Dresden race at risk. Elaina is left with no choice but to remain hidden using a fake identity. But she can only run so far. When her location is compromised, the countdown begins in the fight for her life.

  Elaina’s eyes flew open and deep hazel ones stared back at her. The adoration in them brought her back to reality, but so did the feet shuffling and people moving about outside of their hotel room door. Her memories came back to her in flashes. The night before and escaping with Vicq. An attempt by District 5 to capture her. Their escape.

  Vicq grinned. "You still snore when you sleep."

  How long had he been awake staring at her, listening to her snore? "It's not funny."

  Yet, she was silently elated to have woken up next to him. For the past four months, she'd slept alone in her bed, taking in each day for what it was. So many mornings she'd risen, thinking that she'd never know what true love felt like again. She'd never experience how it felt to have someone care for her, more than they cared for themselves.

  He made a straight face. "I wasn't laughing."

  She reached out to touch the skin on his stomach. The wound in his torso had healed completely. New skin covered where the deep gash had disappeared.

  Her gaze traveled up to take in his appearance. As a result of his heritage, he had an even, dark olive complexion that complimented his silky black hair. She loved the way it gleamed under the moonlight whenever they’d spent time under it together in the past. Four months ago, he’d kept his hair trimmed and cut short, but now it had grown slightly past his shoulders. He’d also lost weight, either from being held so long in his prison without feeding or because he’d failed to seek the nourishment he needed thereafter.

  "I don’t like seeing you suffer. I'm glad you've healed," she said.

  He moaned as her fingers slid across his soft, tight skin, following a trail of hair to his waistband. "The pain is gone from there, but I ache in other places."

  Her cheeks grew heated at the same time she caught sight of the erection behind the zipper of his jeans. It had been so long since she'd been with him, yet she remembered how it was. How generous he could be as a lover. He was skilled in the ways of giving her pleasure. Their past endless nights of practice had seen to that.

  Vicq drew her closer and his kisses rained down on her forehead. His lips pressed to hers and she accepted his kiss and returned it with love. Moments later, their breaths came in pants and their tongues entwined in a sensual frenzy. His fingers played in her hair, coaxing her deeper into the kiss.

  He dragged her against him, then over him. Her thighs fell into place around his waist as he came to sit in an upright position on the bed. His lips flirted along the edge of her face, chin, and finally found the crevice of her neck. The heat of his tongue laved against her skin, trailing along her pulsing vein. Her loins clenched in hunger for the release she knew he could and would give. Tingles rose up her spine, and her chest grew heated with lust. Her body had been neglected for too long. Now, it craved Vicq's caress like never before.

  "Vicq." Elaina lifted her chin as he nipped at the underside of her jaw. She wanted this so much, but... "You won't want me anymore if I don't stay human."

  Vicq pulled back and narrowed his eyes. "What makes you think that?"

  "You prefer my human blood."

  “I prefer you. They don’t know anything about the Dresdan. They don’t know what we prefer. Have your District ways set in again? Do you believe their lies?”

  She frowned, a little hurt by his accusation. “Don’t ever again imply that I find reason with District practices. What I meant was that you accepted me before as your human Donor. I’m not quite human anymore, am I?”

  “There is no other for me. Whether you are vampire, human, or hybrid…you are mine." His gaze drifted down and then back up at her. "We've discovered a way for Dresdan to live without large amounts of blood from humans. An earlier mentality still exists that we need to kill to survive. We don't."

  "How is that possible?"

  "A scientist within my coven has found a link. We've always shared our blood with each other in the past because the agent in the vampire blood is even stronger than human blood. This is why Dresdan who murder their own kind drain them until the last drop."

  Vicq took a deep breath and pressed his eyes closed for only a second.

  It was one reason why the District thought Dresdan so heinous. Because many of them killed their kind to grow stronger. Was he suggesting that all Dresdan lived off the blood of their kind? Would that not lead to their extinction in the end?

  She shook her head. "What does that mean?"

  "We have a bonded couple in our sanctuary. They've not taken an ounce of human blood since they were mated."

  "So they feed off each other?"

  Vicq nodded. "And other Dresdan. There is a taste for human blood, but for them, it is no longer needed to survive. Do you remember how I told you that I grew up on a farm?"

  She nodded. He'd been a migrant worker with no family or friends after the premature death of his parents, trying to feed himself with whatever he earned that day. He had labored as a crop harvester until he'd befriended a vampire who had inducted him into the Dresdan lifestyle. Turned out the vampire had led the Dresdan for hundreds of years as their Master. He was later slain by one of his most trusted Superiors, Russo—who then became Dresdan Master.

  "There is a saying...you make do with what you have because you are completely satisfied with it, and you never long for anything else. Contentment. Leo describes his feeling as not only love, but contentment," Vicq said.

  "Who's Leo?"

  Vicq smiled. "The human male from the Dresdan prison I mentioned earlier. After helping each other escape, I brought him to my sanctuary. He found a friend in Leila, one of the few females at our sanctuary. He was literally halfway through the transformation upon arriving. It was Leila's bite and their blood exchange that ultimately changed him."

  "Halfway...? Like me?"

  "Yes, like you, Elaina." Vicq rubbed the back of his hand gently against her face.

  "In that case, there must be something in Leo's blood like mine that allows the vampire agent to remain in a state of stasis."

  Vicq nodded. "Like a host..."

  The perfect host was exactly what District 5 was after. Being a host was not fun. It was torture. Wanting and craving but not knowing why. Never satisfied because the human anatomy wanted something completely different than the vampire side.

  "Is it still a struggle to resist feeding from humans even when you share?" she asked.

  "The will to resist is what sets us apart from the other breeds of vampires." He locked his gaze on her. "And, of course, we sometimes take it upon ourselves to rid your streets of murderers, abusers, and t
he like."

  Biting her lip, Elaina glanced at him. "Was that your other option? You think we can share a bond like Leo and Leila."

  "We share a bond now, Elaina."

  "What if I stay this way? In-between." The frustration in her voice alarmed her. "What if the Dresdan drugs that I've been given stay in my system forever, preventing my change? Will you leave me? Would you give up on me then?

  "Elaina, I love you." He cupped her chin with his palm. "I first loved you as a human, and I will continue to love you no matter what you are or become."

  "I love you, too. I just want to be strong for you. You'll only want more and more of my blood, and eventually, I will be too weak to supply it. If I can't give you as much as you need, I'm no use to you and can only get in your way. Isn't that what a Donor is to the Dresdan? A blood slave only until the vampire finds a new treat?"

  "Absolutely not. Not for me. You are what I need." He kissed her. "Let me show you how much I need you."

  Vicq grabbed her waist with both hands as she leaned in to kiss him. He devoured her lips hungrily, pulling her closer into his embrace. Her center grew heated on his lap and she gasped when he slid his fingers down into her jeans.

  "Vicq?"

  He continued to nibble softly at her lips.

  "We both need a shower." She pushed gently at his shoulders. “There's blood all over us."

 

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