First, her mother and her decisions; and now Dmetri did the same thing.
Her mind raced for answers on how she could change his mind. But long after the tears dried on her skin she realized that it didn’t matter that there was no getting him back. She’d said the “L-word” and now he was running from her.
She screamed until her throat hurt and her voice went hoarse. She pummeled her fists into the mattress until exhaustion took over.
Her heart was broken, but she could do something. Maybe it would fix it, maybe it wouldn’t. But if she finally took her life into her own hands, she could be happy. She didn’t want to marry some Alpha. A man’s status meant nothing to her. She wanted Dmetri, but how could she get him to agree? She’d seen his blank expression after she told him she loved him. The man had completely shut down.
As the night grew, Christine rested atop her messy bed and contemplated, planned.
Because she had finally found a man worth fighting for, and she wasn’t about to lose that so easily.
* * *
The knock came just as sleep was about to take her. Christine blinked several times as she groggily got out of bed. She peered out the window and saw the sky still dark with night.
Mumbling to herself, she stumbled against the wall and bumped her shoulder. The knock came again, harder than before.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” she said, rubbing her throbbing shoulder. She reached the door and pulled it open. Then the breath she was taking left her on a whoosh.
Dmetri stood there, tall and imposing, his face drawn into a fierce look. Christine’s heart started racing at a deadly speed.
“This is...unexpected.” She flinched at her voice, which was hoarse from crying.
The muscle over his right eye ticked and she almost smiled. “Indeed. May I come in?” Confused, she nodded and let him in. Dmetri usually charged in, taking command as if he owned any place he was in. Tonight he stood in front of her sofa for a moment, and then sat in it hesitantly. His eyes met hers and it was like an electric connection shot between them.
Christine’s heart raced, her breaths came quick and short. She felt as though something profound was happening, but she hadn’t figured out what it was yet.
“What?” She wanted to run to him, crawl into his lap until he wrapped his strong arms around her again and made everything feel okay. But she didn’t.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said.”
Her eyebrows flew high and once again, hope fluttered its big flapping wings in her chest. Bitterly, she knew she was only setting herself up for disappointment again.
But he’s here, isn’t he?
He ran a hand through his long hair. “You’ve shoved me into a hell of a dilemma, millaya moya. ”
Hearing her nickname fall from his lips was too much for her, and she went to him. His eyes narrowed on her as she came, but she didn’t care. She fell into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. It was only with some great amount of strength that kept her from falling into a sobbing mess.
He came back!
She buried her face in his neck just inhaling his wonderful scent even if it would be for the last time. Slowly, one hand came around her back then touched her spine. Then finally the second arm came around her, as if he couldn’t help himself, and held her—she wanted to cry out with joy.
“You had me thinking a lot after you left tonight.”
Christine pushed his hair away from his neck and buried her face in his warmth, pressing kisses and licks across the thick tendons of his neck. The hands at her back flexed against her even as his body relaxed into hers until they meshed perfectly. He tasted so good, she felt crazed with the need to taste him at least one more time. So she scattered kiss after kiss from his ear to his jaw, down to his neck. The response between his legs was quick and hard. She only held him closer, pressing her core as tightly against him as she could.
“Thinking about what?” she asked when he didn’t say any more.
He coughed to clear his throat while his hands started making passes up and down her spine, over the soft material of her shirt.
“Whether you love me or not doesn’t matter, because I’m still taking you with me.” He might as well have said that he loved her with how giddy his words made her.
Frantically, she trailed kisses up his jaw then covered his lips with her own. A soft moan, hers, passed over them.
His lips parted beneath hers and she went wild, thrusting her tongue greedily inside to taste him. Masculine and rich his taste flooded her senses like a drug. Christine felt consuming hunger flood through her blood, her body. She couldn’t keep still, couldn’t stop touching him, kissing him.
His lips became ravenous against hers, kissing her back, biting her lips until she grew too restless. Pressing her lips harder against his as if trying to sear him into memory, she reached for his shirt and grabbed the front, then gave a hard yank. Buttons flew across the room, material ripped, and the sound was better than any music.
Dmetri’s hands grew impatient. They ran under her shirt finally touching bare skin. He touched her everywhere, from her back up to her neck, then stroking her sides. He swept up her sides, a scant inch away from her breasts and Christine froze, lips hanging against his to see what he’d do. Her breasts were pulled tight and firm, ready to be molded, stroked. But he didn’t touch them. His hands passed back down to squeeze her waist in a possessive touch.
“Dmetri,” she whispered.
“Mine,” he growled against her lips.
Christine whimpered, writhed in his lap. All too soon, it wasn’t enough, not nearly enough. She gave him one more hard kiss, then sat back and began furiously pulling open his belt and zipper.
He was just as hungry. He grabbed her shirt by the collar and ripped it with one hard pull.
The material split raggedly down the middle, baring her naked breasts to his ravenous gaze.
Fingers trembled, and it took her twice as long to get the damn button out of the hole of his jeans.
Finally, she reached in and grasped the hard shaft of his cock.
Dmetri groaned roughly, the sound like sandpaper. Then in a quick move, he wrapped both of her wrists in one hand and held them behind her back, thrusting her tight nipples towards him. He leaned forward, and Christine sighed blissfully, letting her head fall back.
The touch, when it came, was pure sexual fire. His mouth closed around her nipple like a wet vise. The sucking pressure came and an answering pull throbbed from deep in her core, wetting her sex until she was sleek and hot, vibrating with need. With his free hand, he squeezed her breast and took more of her into his mouth. Her nipple became his delicacy as he sucked, flicked, and bit the small point.
Christine couldn’t handle it. She wanted him inside her now. Hard and fast. She wiggled in his lap, trying to press her core against his erection, but his arms held her in place so his mouth could trail a wet path to her untouched nipple.
His mouth, so very warm, so wet, coated her nipple, spreading a rack of chills down her body and curling her toes.
“Dmetri, please.”
He grunted against her breast, and then slowly pressed kisses across the top of the mound. She struggled against the hand holding her, but he only tightened his grip until she stilled. Then his free hand was at her bare thigh, pushing up, underneath the denim skirt. Once again she was glad she didn’t wear panties; she moaned as his fingertips teased the bare skin at her hip.
Kisses pressed along her collarbone, the soft curve of her shoulders, her jaw. That dangerous hand of his which could so easily drive her crazy slowly drifted towards her center.
Her center that sat open and poised as her knees braced against either side of his hips. His fingers found the patch of short hairs there and played with them as if he were petting a new toy.
“Dmetri,” she said, warning in her voice.
She had no control over him now. Unlike before where she’d taken control of the reigns, he had all t
he power now. His lips trailed up to her neck, and a hot wet lick trailed over her jugular. She shivered, anticipation burning hot in her veins.
“You tremble before me, Christine. So beautiful.” Sharp points pressed against her neck, no, not points— fangs.
The pressure at her neck grew slowly, steadily as the fingers in her curls drew down and into her creamy heat. Fingers stroked like a butterfly’s caress across her swollen lips as the pressure at her neck reached an almost unbearable level--and then his fangs broke through. The break was clean and sure. His fingers swirled once over her needy bud then sought out her entrance as he sucked from her in greedy, hungry pulls.
Pleasure engulfed her like a cloud until she was swimming in it. He didn’t take from her slowly as he did before but like a starving man. Each drugging pull, tightened something needy inside of her, pushed her closer and closer to that cliff that she desperately wanted to leap off.
“Dmetri...” she whispered, her fingers curling into tight little fists.
She was left to his touch, his caresses, and she loved it.
His fingers thrust heavily inside her, pumping again and again. Each thrust curled her toes tighter, made her flush hotter, wetter. Moans, gasps, and pants came from her, intermixing until she couldn’t keep silent any longer. His fingers retracted to focus on her needy bud, and her entire body tightened like coiled metal.
His lips formed a tight bond over her neck as he feasted from her flesh. His wonderful fingers worked magic along her until the coiling couldn’t tighten any further, and she had no choice but to explode—and she did long and hard. He took one long pull from her neck as his deft fingers shot her into an explosive, blinding orgasm. Hard trembles racked her entire body; cream doused her channel, hoarse cries escaped from her tight throat. The pleasure was intense, burning through her body like gasoline.
He petted her sex softly, stroking her down from the heavens as he retracted his fangs and licked the wound closed. It wasn’t until her hands fell to her sides that she realized he’d let her go. She sat on his lap for long minutes, simply trying to regain some sense of self.
Slowly, her eyes fluttered open to see him gazing at her with an unreadable expression on his face.
“What?” she asked, breathless.
“You are so beautiful... It’s stunning.”
She was sure even in the darkened room he could see her blush. Christine’s heart expanded in her chest until she was afraid it might burst with all the love she felt for him. Unable to contain it, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. The kiss was long and slow, more passionate than any kiss she’d ever experienced with any man, even with him.
But her blossoming love for him couldn’t be contained so she pulled away, fisting a thick chunk of his long hair. She closed her eyes, pressed her sweaty forehead against his, and then pulled back slowly, staring him in his beautiful eyes.
“I love you, Dmetri.” She pressed a soft kiss to his lips, then another. “I love you.” More kisses, kisses that came from her heart and soul, each one longer than the next, harder, sweeter.
“Please love me,” she said softly.
Suddenly his arms banded around her waist, pressing her hard into his chest. His tongue thrust into her mouth, mating, possessing. She hadn’t realized she’d been searching for a response until she got it, and it was perfect.
His hands roughly pushed her skirt up to her waist, and then he grabbed her hips with strong hands. Christine moaned around his tongue, thrusting hers back against his.
Strong hands guided her over his cock, poised stiff and swollen between them. He entered her as if he had all the time in the world, slowly spreading her, filling her until finally he hit some part inside of her. Christine tore her mouth away to breathe at the sensations ricocheting inside her body. She couldn’t sit still, not with him filling her so deeply. She rocked and trembled, hands rubbing over his shoulders, neck, then finally fisting his hair.
“I told you you’re mine, Christine. Look at me.” His harsh words broke through her hazy mind like a hammer. She turned, met his gaze straight on.
“You really want that, vampire?” she asked in a soft voice.
His answer was to lift her off him, then slam back inside. Again. And again. The pleasure was too intense, her body wanted to melt to the floor in a puddle, but somehow she managed to keep her eyes open to watch him. His cheeks were dark with color, eyes low-lidded and dark, lips wet. He was the sexiest man she’d ever seen. And he was hers. She knew it in every ounce of her soul. She could have laughed in that moment, screamed with joy. But he tightened his grip on her hips to steady her, and started thrusting.
The thrusts were just like him—hard and unforgiving. He pumped into her, sucked a nipple into his mouth, and suckled. The two pleasures, between her legs, from her breast, were too much...too sharp. She struggled to get away from it, hips wiggling as he pumped and pumped.
“Oh God!”
It was useless. With one hard pull at her nipple, he sent her flying apart by the seams.
Shaking so hard, sounds faded except his harsh breathing and grunts as he worked himself inside her slick channel. Her sex gripped him, milking, clinging around him in rippling waves, trying to pull forth something from him he wasn’t ready to give.
He slowed his thrusts to her fading release. He pumped lazily but hard. His hands finally released her to trail over her bare shoulders, her naked back, to cup her ass. His grip tightened on her bottom, and then he lifted her off him.
Christine stared at him in confusion. “What? I want you to finish.” He stood, kicking the last of his clothes away like he couldn’t get rid of it fast enough. He grabbed her and followed her down to the sofa. She sunk into the soft cushions.
“Oh I will, millaya moya. ”
Anything he’d have asked her, she’d have done. And this was hardly a chore for her—she burned for him. Her knees caught his hips, hands delved eagerly down his sinewy back. The groan she elicited from him made her smile like a fool.
His lips caught hers. His hand trailed down her hip to her thigh, and then he caught her leg and pushed it up onto his shoulders. Christine gasped into his mouth as her ankle rested on his shoulder, baring her open to him.
He looked down at her body with hungry eyes. “I want to lick you everywhere.” She sucked in her breath, then released it in a fast stream as he thrust back in. He didn’t take her slow now. He leaned down, pressing her knee to her chest and thrust like a man with one thing on his mind—coming.
So good, she thought.
“Fuck yes, it is,” he said.
Christine’s eyes widened as she realized she just said that aloud. Hell if she cared though.
She scratched her nails down his back and dug in as his thrusts grew hard, hitting that spot inside her again and again.
They moved in a rhythm together, hips sliding and withdrawing, giving and taking. Lips caught and stole frantic breaths, as their sweat-slicked bodies grew feverish, rushed. Reaching for something powerful.
Christine felt the moment he was close. His breathing staggered, hips hammered against her, his tongue thrust heavily inside her mouth, filling her over and again. She moaned around it, digging her nails into his back.
“Come for me,” he said against her lips.
She shook her head wildly. “I can’t. It’s too much.”
He laughed the sound choked and deep. Then his hand reached between her legs to rub across her swollen, sensitive bud. All at once, everything tightened inside her. He groaned, and she knew he felt it too. Knew it because he pounded in faster, his heavy sac slapping across her wet flesh. He rubbed her swollen bud fast, faster.
She screamed so loud she was certain everyone in the pack heard it, everyone in a ten-mile radius. Her body didn’t just rise to a peak and fly apart—she exploded. And he toppled right there with her. His pain-filled groan sounded over her screams, and he pushed deep, holding himself there. The jets came, dousing inside. He trembled abo
ve her, his expression one of pain then collapsed like a weakling.
Laughing, feeling much lighter than she had in hours, Christine wiggled her leg from being squished between them until she had it wrapped lazily around his thigh.
She felt exhausted like every bone in her body was made of ooze. Before her eyes closed and sleep took her, she whispered fiercely. “I love you, dammit.” He made a sound, somewhere between a grunt and a laugh. “I know,” he said and pressed a kiss to her lips.
Chapter 23
The soft snick of the door opening might not have normally awoken Christine. But the soft noise sounded like a hammer being slammed against concrete to her sleeping ears.
She came awake slowly and squinted around at the dark living room. Dmetri’s heavy weight squished her down into the mattress, and her leg was asleep. Damn, she knew when she’d go to move the sucker would sting like a thousand needles stabbing her. But oh well, it was worth it to sleep in his arms again.
Grunting under his weight, she scooted into a sitting position to look around the living room. She’d thought she heard the door open and close but the door was closed, the room quiet, as it had been. Sighing, she lay back down and wrapped her arm around Dmetri’s back.
She was just about to close her eyes and go back to sleep when a shadow moved. It wasn’t the shadow of trees swaying outside, but a heavy shadow with mass, like a person.
Christine had only a moment for her muscles to tighten, when the shadow came and went, and then she was staring up into a nightmarish face.
“Dmetri!”
Her shout was too little too late. The glint of metal in Claude Phelan’s hand appeared too fast for her to say something, too fast for Dmetri to come awake and stop it. Claude lifted the knife and viciously slammed the dagger down. The blade slammed deep into Dmetri’s back, sending him awake with a roar of pain that left her shaking beneath him.
T. A. Grey Page 15
