Beyond the Dark

by Angela Knight

  “You wouldn’t hate me for it?”

  “Grace, dammit, I love you,” he snarled. “Do you think I’m unaware that things have to change if you accept me? That what is acceptable as an unmated male would be unacceptable as a mated one? For God’s sake!” He glowered down at her. “Do you think I was born stupid?”

  She shook her head slowly, a smile trembling on her lips. “No. You weren’t born stupid, Matthias.”

  “What about you?” he growled. “Could you forget Albrecht? Could you forgive what you saw for a life with me?”

  She licked her lips slowly. “I understand why you did it. Why you feel you had to do it. Because of what he did to you and to those you knew, you would have had no choice.”

  But she couldn’t face a life with him, never knowing who he would kill next, or why, or living with the fear that the day would come when he would make a mistake. That he would take an innocent life. No man was perfect, and eventually she feared, he would shed innocent blood. That she found too hard to accept.

  “So I make this promise to give it up. It doesn’t mean I won’t continue to fight for Breed rights. I won’t sit back and watch my people die without working to help them.”

  “I understand that.”

  “The least I can do is be an enforcer, an agent for the Bureau of Breed Affairs.”

  “I can handle that.” She knew about the bureau and their work.

  He nodded slowly. “Then come here, mate, take me.”

  Instantly, Matthias’s expression transformed from pure self-assurance, to wicked, carnal arrogance. His lips became fuller, his gaze darker, his thick black lashes lowering as a hard flush stained his cheekbones.

  The sensuality he had kept locked inside was finally free. It glittered in his eyes, turned them to dark, whiskey fire, as he watched, waited for her to come to him, for her to accept him.

  Grace cleared her throat. “An aphrodisiac in your tongue, huh?”

  His lips quirked with a decidedly anticipatory grin.

  “Hot, uncontrolled sex?”

  A growl rumbled in his throat.

  “Well, in for a penny, in for a pound.” She stepped to him, her hands sliding from his chest to his shoulders, as his head bent and her lips touched his.

  There was no drugging sensation, only sweet, hot pleasure. His lips moved slowly over hers. They both learned the shape and texture of each other, held back, and relished this first touch.

  Grace lifted one hand from his shoulder, her lashes lifting, so she could stare into his face with dazed fascination, as she touched his whiskered cheek.

  He looked disreputable. Wild and bold. And he was all those things. But his gaze, though burning with arousal, was tender, his hands gentle as one threaded through her hair and the other gripped her hip.

  “Like sunshine,” he whispered against her lips. “That’s how you taste, Grace.”

  Her lips parted, accepting his again, her tongue reaching out to lick at the harder curves of his. He jerked, his hands tightening on her, as he pulled back.

  “Come on.” He gripped her wrist and began striding quickly to the cabin.

  “Wait.” She stumbled along behind him. “What happened? What are you doing?”

  “I refuse to take you outside,” he snarled, moving up the steps to the porch. “We’re going to the bedroom.”

  “Well, you could have kissed me properly, just once,” she argued a bit peevishly. She had been waiting for that kiss.

  “Once I get my tongue in your mouth we’re both goners.” He slammed the door behind them, set the security alarm on the doors and windows, and continued toward the bedroom.

  As the bedroom door slammed behind him, he turned, wrapped his arm around her hips, and jerked her to him.

  “Now,” he groaned. “Sweet God in Heaven. Now!”

  His lips descended on hers, parting them, making way for the stroke of his tongue and the spicy, heated taste of lust.

  Grace had never imagined that lust had a taste, but it did. It was spicy hot, a hint of jalapeño and the taste of a tropical breeze. It was fine whiskey with an undertone of honey, and it was addictive. Once she had the first taste of him, she knew why he had hesitated to kiss her. Because she could never get enough. She wanted his kiss inside her forever.

  Her lips surrounded his tongue, hers battled with his and suckled at it with delirious demand, arching in his arms. She moaned into his lips, felt his groan and his hands. Hands that pulled her clothes from her body. Hands that moved her fingers to the band of his pants.

  She tore at the metal closures, releasing the band quickly, before sliding her hands inside to test the muscular contours of his sexy male ass.

  “You taste good,” she moaned, as his lips lifted from hers to lower her to the bed. “I need more.”

  “More is what you’ll get.”

  He sat on the bed, jerked his boots off, then straightened and removed his leather pants. Of course, he went commando. No underwear. She wished he had worn underwear, she might have been better prepared for exactly how well endowed he was.

  It wasn’t so much the length, which was impressive, but he was thick, thicker than she had expected. Thicker than any other man she had ever taken.

  Fascinated, she sat up on the bed, reaching out with a single fingertip to touch the throbbing head of his cock. Of course, it was pierced. A silver bar pierced the ridge of its head, the locking balls at each end glittering in the sunlight that slanted through the window. It matched the piercings in his left nipple and ear.

  “Any reason for this?” she touched the curved silver lightly. Then her gaze was caught by the two rune tattoos inside his thighs. She knew those. Strength and wisdom. He was both.

  “Later,” he growled. “I’ll explain it later.”

  Shadows flashed in his eyes, and she didn’t want them there. She wanted the flaming arousal back in full force. She wanted all his attention on her.

  Grace lowered her head, parted her lips, and let her tongue swipe over the damp crest, pausing to pay particular attention to the silver piercing. She rolled her tongue over it, gripped the small locking ball with her teeth, and tugged at it gently.

  Matthias froze. But the shadows were gone. His expression was watchful now, dark with sensuality. Grace parted her lips further and slowly lowered her mouth onto the straining, engorged crest of his cock.

  “Ah, fuck!” His groan was followed by a hard, powerful clench of his abdomen. A second later, it was Grace’s turn to freeze.

  That wasn’t just pre-cum that spurted into her mouth, and it wasn’t the consistency of semen. The taste was like that of his kiss, honey and spice, pure lust.

  She stared up at him, her tongue licking over the thick head and the piercing, as she tried to analyze it. Tabloid rumors, fanatical accusations of perversions and animalistic characteristics flitted through her mind.

  Maybe they weren’t all lies. Maybe the past ten years of accusations against the Breeds’ sexuality was more than just supposition. If it were, it gave a whole new meaning to the idea of wild sex acts.

  She eased back, her lashes drooping over her eyes, as he watched her carefully.

  “What’s next?” She breathed over the head of his cock, watching his cheekbones flush from arousal, as carnal knowledge lit his gaze.

  “It’s a surprise,” he growled, the fingers of one hand curling around his thick shaft. “If I tell you, it would spoil it.”

  Oh, he was bad.

  “Could I convince you to tell me?” She lowered her mouth over the straining crest again and sucked it deep. She watched his face, as she worked his flesh with her tongue, with the suckling heat surrounding him. She gripped the silver that pierced his flesh with her lips, tongued it, then sank her mouth over his cock head once again.

  His lashes drifted closed, as his body tightened further. A ragged growl rumbled in his chest. She loved that sound. The hotter he became, the more aroused, the deeper it became.

  She knew what was coming,
she could sense it. She could feel it. Her hand brushed his away, stroking the thick flesh slowly. She could feel the tension in the middle of the heavy length, a harder pulse of blood, the flesh more heated.

  Another spurt of the pre-cum filled her mouth, as a groan ripped from his throat. His cock throbbed, the blood beating furiously through the heavy veins.

  “Enough.” He drew back, ignoring her frantic attempt to hold him in her mouth.

  She could feel the back of her throat tingling, a deeper hunger rushing through her.

  “You’ll wait,” he snarled, pushing her back. “You’ll not destroy my control this time.”

  “You have control left?” Her arms curled around his shoulders, as his lips moved down her neck. “I don’t think that’s fair. Mine’s gone.”

  She could feel the burn now. It was racing through her, licking over her nipples, her clit. She arched to Matthias, rubbing the hot tips of her breasts against his chest, feeling the fine, silken body hair that was almost invisible to the naked eye. Damn, it felt good, though. Like rough silk rasping over her nipples.

  “Do you feel it, Grace?” He whispered as his lips moved lower, his canines rasping over her collarbone. “Do you feel the need building? Burning inside you like its been burning inside me?”

  She felt it. Her eyes closed in delirious pleasure with it. The sensations were nearly painful, the arousal building inside her until her womb was rippling with it.

  “I’m going to make it burn hotter.” His voice was guttural now, hoarse with his own arousal just before his tongue licked over a nipple.

  “Oh, God, yes. Suck it.” She arched, driving the tight peak against his lips. “Suck my nipples, Matthias.”

  Another growl. But his lips parted, and he sucked the tender tip inside.

  Wet liquid fire wrapped around her nipple. He sucked her deep, his mouth hungry, his tongue stroking and licking, as her nails bit into his shoulders.

  “Oh, that’s so good,” she moaned, her hips arching to grind her pussy against one hard, lean thigh, as he held himself above her. “It’s so good, Matthias. I love your mouth. I love your tongue.”

  He caught the peak between his teeth, his tongue lashing it as she writhed beneath him. Tingles of electric sensation tore from the tip to her womb then struck with brilliant heat to the heart of her pussy.

  She jerked in his arms, arched, cried his name.

  “Sweet, Grace,” he whispered, kissing the swollen slope of her breast reverently, before pressing more kisses between the two mounds and easing slowly down her body. “I can smell your pussy. Sunlight and syrup and sweet cream. I’m going to eat my fill now. I’m going to lick that pretty pussy so slow and easy.”

  “Oh yes,” she moaned, writhing beneath him, her legs falling farther apart as he neared the agonized flesh there.

  Her hips lifted, as his lips grazed her hipbone. Her hand tangled into his hair, holding him to her as he whispered over the curls at the top of her pussy.

  “Matthias, please.” Her heels dug into the bed as she lifted to him. “Now. Touch me now.”

  His hands slid beneath the cheeks of her rear to hold her in place. Locking his gaze with hers, his tongue distended, sliding through the saturated slit with a long, slow lick.

  Spikes of sensation shot through her. Tingles and flares and fingers of electricity arcing from nerve ending to nerve ending as the breath caught in Grace’s throat.

  Sheer pleasure.

  Her eyes closed, and her head tipped back as a keening cry spilled from her lips.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Matthias licked at delicate, creamy flesh, humming his pleasure in a long, low rumble. She tasted better than honey, better than sweet cream. The luscious juices spilling from her pussy were tinged with spice and spiked with pure sweet fire.

  His hands kneaded her ass. Sweet delicate curves that clenched beneath his fingers as she lifted to him without reservation. And he accepted. He ate her with a greed he didn’t believe was possible, terrified he couldn’t get enough of the sweet, addictive juices spilling to his lips and tongue.

  Stretching out along the bed between her thighs, he lifted her closer, staring up at her absorbed expression as slowly, so slowly he pushed his tongue into the gripping, spasming channel he had dreamed of.

  Her pussy was like silk. It flexed around his tongue as she cried out again, her hands clenching in his hair, pulling him closer.

  Matthias could feel the hormone spilling from his tongue into the sweet depths of her cunt. The potency of the taste was diluted by the sweet juices he sipped from her. He rimmed the opening, lapped at it like the favored treat it would now become. He could eat her for hours and never get enough. Lick her forever and die with the hunger beating at his soul.

  “Oh yes,” her trembling voice speared through his senses. “Oh, Matthias, it’s so good.” She stretched beneath him, arching closer, as her hips worked her pussy onto his tongue.

  His cock throbbed, the pre-cum spurting from it to the blankets beneath him. He wasn’t ready to fuck her yet, he thought desperately. Not yet. He had waited his entire life for this moment. For that one perfect moment, when touch, taste, moans, and whispered passions came into sync.

  Everything melded together with Grace. Her taste was perfect. There was no scent of promiscuity, no taste of another who had gone before him. The Breed sense of smell and taste was often too good. But with Grace, there was only the sweet, heated taste of her woman’s passion.

  Slick, silken, her juices clung to his lips, to his tongue, as he slowly drew back from her.

  Swollen glistening folds of flesh drew his gaze. Silken damp curls, ruby red, passion flushed, her pussy lured him. He licked again, hearing her cry, then drew back to gaze at the slickness again.

  Had any woman ever been so wet for him? He knew there hadn’t been. Only Grace. Farther up, her clit was swollen, fully exposed and flushed with need. He reached out with his tongue, curling around it and groaning at the taste of it.

  Grace jerked, and more of her juices spilled from her.

  He needed more. A rumbled growl fell from his lips, as his tongue pierced her core again, and he allowed the tip of his nose to caress the hard nub of her clit.

  “Oh, God, Matthias.” She never called him Matt. He liked that. He wasn’t a Matt. He was Matthias. It was the name he had chosen for himself, the name he preferred, and she never used anything else.

  “Yes.” She stretched beneath him again, her hips rolling, pressing his tongue deeper inside the clenching muscles of her cunt. “Lick me there. Right there.”

  She was vocal. He liked the sounds of her passion, the feel of it. And he liked knowing she enjoyed his tongue. He licked as she pleaded, caressing into tender tissue as she gasped then cried out for more.

  “Your taste,” he groaned as he pulled back, licked the outer folds once again, and then caught the spill of sweet liquid from the opening of her pussy. “So sweet, Grace. Your pussy is like nectar. Soft and sweet and addictive.”

  He lifted his head again, his tongue curling around her clit, as he pressed two fingers inside the grasping depths of her pussy.

  She was shaking in his arms, shuddering. Each muscle of her body was drawn tight, and her pussy was so snug he was suddenly thankful for the unique hormones that would prepare her for him. He couldn’t hurt her, the thought of hurting her destroyed him.

  “Matthias. Oh God, Matthias, what you do to me,” she cried out hoarsely, as he drew her clit into his mouth.

  She was close to orgasm. He could feel it pounding in her clit, in the tender muscles of her pussy and knew within seconds she would explode beneath him. He wanted it. He needed it. Sex had never been like this. This hot, this desperate. The need for her pleasure overriding the need even for his own.

  When it came, growls tore from his own chest. Her clitoris, that delicate little nub of flesh expanded, swelled further, and the sweetest taste fell from it, as he felt her vagina tighten and pulse forth more of her slick juice
s.

  The taste of her clitoral response was incredible. Slight. Fresh. New. As though no other man had drawn it forth before.

  She was screaming his name. He could hear it, distantly, feel it vibrating through his soul, as this unique taste tempted his tongue. And Matthias knew he would never be satisfied, never be tempted to taste another woman again. Because nothing could ever be this good again.

  GRACE couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t draw enough oxygen into her lungs, couldn’t seem to find the instinct to force it in, as everything, conscious and subconscious, centered on the orgasm imploding inside her.

  She shook her head desperately, fighting for air, but she couldn’t get enough. Her eyes opened wide, her chest straining as the resulting panic caused the breath to still in her chest. She had warned him. Overexcitement. It happened every time.

  “Easy, Grace.” Matthias came over her, holding himself above her, one hand easing from her stomach to between her breasts with a gentle, caressing movement. “It’s okay, my love. Slow and easy.”

  “Matthias,” she gasped, feeling his fingers lower to massage her diaphragm.

  “It’s okay, Grace,” he soothed her tenderly, his lips lowering to her neck and pressing against the flesh there in a soft, heated kiss. “Relax, love. It will ease.”

  Her hands were clenched in his hair, tight. It had to be hurting, but there was no strain in his voice, no attempt to loosen them.

  “You’re so sweet, so responsive,” he whispered deeply. “I won’t let you come to harm. I swear it.”

  His palm eased the horrible tightness, relaxing her, making breathing easier. As she drew sweet, clear air into her lungs, her breath caught again.

  Oh God. His cock was poised at the entrance to her vagina, parting her folds, thick and hard. The shudders that raced through his body coincided with each, deep spurt of heated fluid that erupted from it.

  She could feel it heating her inner flesh, doing something so odd, relaxing it, yet sensitizing it further.

  “What…?” She stared back at him in shock.

  “It’s preseminal fluid,” he groaned in her ear. “Hormonal. It eases the tender flesh inside, makes penetration easier. Sweet God, Grace.” He shuddered. “I need you now. Now.”