by Vivian Arend
She’d already lost track. “What are the right reasons?”
“Because we’re so hot for each other that we can’t stop ourselves.”
“I didn’t think there was ever a question about that.” Cindy shifted in his lap, easing her hips against his. He was hard between her legs, solid and hot, and he groaned as she rocked down against him.
His hands fisted in her hair, tilted her head back until his lips brushed her throat. “Best reason in the world, then.”
The simple touch streaked hot pleasure through her. “Does lazing about in bed like rich people include torrid sexual encounters?”
“Even if it didn’t, I don’t mind a little revisionist history.” His tongue dragged across the skin over her pounding pulse, and dark, hot magic twisted tight between them. “The past isn’t as pretty as people like to pretend these days.”
“Nostalgia’s easier.” Certainly easier than trying to maintain a conversation while he licked her throat. “Adam.”
“Cindy.” Another lick, a little faster. Rougher.
“You’re a tease.” She turned her head and bit his earlobe, almost hard enough to hurt.
“Am I?” He braced his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back against the rumpled blankets. “Seems to me I’m plenty willing to follow through.”
“So the unresolved sexual tension is my fault?” Playing around felt good, almost as good as having him lean over her with the promise of such heat in his eyes.
“Or we’re just both responsible adults in the middle of a crisis.” His fingers trailed down her body, teasing at her breasts through the fabric of her shirt. “Mostly responsible, anyway.”
Cindy moaned, feeling less responsible by the second. She needed his hands on her bare skin, so she dragged the thin cotton up and over her head. The fabric had barely cleared her hands when he rewarded her, cupping her flesh with warm, work-roughened hands.
There was no stifling the cry that rose in her throat. She wanted him too much, and denial had driven her almost to the point of pain. “Don’t stop touching me this time. Please.”
“We don’t have time for me to take you like I want.” His voice was as harsh as his fingers were gentle, a delicious contrast. “But I’m not leaving this bed until I see you come.”
Cindy trapped his hands against her skin. “Don’t jinx us like that. We have time, plenty of it.”
“Shh.” He lifted his hands, moving hers easily enough. They ended up trapped against the bed as he leaned down and let his breath feather over one tight nipple. “Stop thinking so much.”
She strained toward his mouth, caught between another whimper and a laugh. “It’s what I do.”
“Not anymore,” he whispered, then closed his lips around her.
Everything in her zeroed in on that single touch, focused on the hot pull of his mouth and the way he slicked his tongue, rough and wet, over her nipple. She forgot to think, forgot everything except how to moan his name.
He groaned and lifted his head, eyes blazing. “My name sounds good on your lips.”
She yanked her hands free and pulled his mouth to hers. There was no finesse in it, no careful caresses specifically crafted to make him want her more. All she could manage was need, and she poured it into every second of the kiss.
What she got back was passion, pure and simple. He tilted his head and pressed closer, his deliberation fading. Pain lanced through the pleasure as her tongue snagged on the tip of a fang, and Adam stiffened at the hint of coppery blood.
He lifted his head, breathing ragged. “Sorry, that wasn’t—not on purpose.”
“I know.” Cindy rubbed her tongue against the roof of her mouth until she felt the tiny wound close.
“I’m not in control. I’m not—” He laughed and shook his head before leaning down to kiss the corner of her mouth. “I know you don’t want blood and sex to get confused. I’ll try harder.”
“It doesn’t matter.” She gripped the front of his shirt and kissed him firmly. “As long as you want the sex more, I mean. Of course you want my—my blood.” It felt odd to say, and even odder to be fine with it.
“No.” Adam caught her hands again, this time pressing them to the bed on either side of her head. “I want you. The blood is a means to an end, Cindy. Sometimes it’s to give me strength, and sometimes…”
He nipped her lower lip and she felt the tiniest prick before his tongue slid over the spot. Magic roared to life and heat crashed into her as he kissed her again, and this time she felt each hard thrust of his tongue as a hot, tugging pull deep inside her.
Cindy had already come to associate it with him, the dizzying combination of too much and not enough, and she bucked under him. His grip on her wrists held, somehow soothing the most primitive, animal part of her. Adam was strong, commanding, and she wanted him.
She relaxed without thinking then, pulled her mouth from his and bared her throat.
A wolf might have taken that invitation and bitten her, leaving a very human mark that served an instinctive purpose. Instead Adam licked her pulse and settled his body over hers, his hips cradled between her thighs so his first rocking grind let her feel the hard length of his erection through their jeans.
The sensation wrenched a cry and a shudder from her. “Adam.” She needed him closer, his skin against hers. Him inside her.
“Don’t move your hands,” he whispered, then slipped away, leaving a blazing trail of hot, wet kisses along her body as he went. Down, down until his breath blew hot against the skin just above her jeans and his fingers tugged at the button.
Desire cuts both ways…
Night Haven
© 2010 Fiona Jayde
Nothing gives Dina more pleasure than leaving the vampires she hunts to the mercy of the dawn. And yet most humans she is sworn to protect seem all too happy to offer up their necks. She has vowed never to be like those needy creatures yet, three months ago, she allowed a vampire to kiss her. The memory still makes her body burn—and her skin heat with humiliation.
For over twenty empty years, Luke has lived in a world of dead pleasure and burning sunrise, feeding off those who long for immortality and taboo thrills. Only his art makes him feel half-alive. Until one night in a dark, moody nightclub, where a reckless, amber-eyed bloodwolf left behind her clean, sharp scent—and an ache in his blood nothing but another taste can ease.
Finally, with the chance to purge Luke out of her system, Dina moves in for the kill. But she comes to a horrifying realization. She can no longer shift, and the desire to taste him—body, soul and blood—is making her crazy. As an enraged bloodwolf threatens to rip them both apart, she may just be crazy enough to trust Luke with her life.
Warning: Contains interspecies lust between a bloodwolf and a vampire, and desire thick enough to cut with a blade.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Night Haven:
The vampire didn’t move closer, but he didn’t bolt. Keeping her movements casual, Dina closed the distance between them. His gaze locked in with hers, direct and dark and thorough. Tough chin, a slash of lips that looked both sensual and cruel. She wished he had a smear of blood, something to keep her focused on the job instead of remembering his mouth over hers.
“Nice shirt.”
Tonight, she had dressed up her usual black with a long-sleeved T that spelled out “Fuck U” in black glitter. Perfect for work with just a bit of charm.
“Bad night?” Dina sidestepped a swaying couple in matching cowboy boots. “I thought your kind was all blood, all the time.”
He smirked, gave a small upwards jerk of that hero’s chin. She wondered if he saw her heartbeat pulsing somewhere in the hollow of her neck. Get over it.
“And you’re an expert in my kind?” He emphasized the last word slightly in that clipped, low-pitched voice. Enough to make it sound insulting.
“Expert enough to dust you.” She hadn’t witnessed him actually take a bite, but no one had to be the wiser. She could simply dust him now a
nd never see that cruel mocking smile again.
The thought churned her gut.
She faced him with small shivers racing down her back, trying not to remember how his arms felt banded around her, his body hard and hot against her own.
“You want to dance, bloodwolf?”
She couldn’t risk fighting him, not here amidst the crowd. Instead she flashed a smile, short and sweet. “Let’s take it outside.”
“Now that’s an invitation.”
He moved. Before she could react his hands gripped her shoulders, firm yet kind. She had one second to push back, to scream, to growl, to punch him. Instead, Dina just watched his face as he leaned down and put his mouth on hers, hot, hard and nearly brutal.
Her breath shattered with shock as he pulled her against his body, teased out a low moan, biting her lower lip. She fisted her hands in his hair and let herself be taken, ravaged, swaying among the other dancers under the cool and bluesy beat.
Dina didn’t know when his touch became gentle, when his arms eased and merely hugged her close. His lips left her mouth to trail kisses over her jaw, up towards her ears.
“What the hell are you doing?” She pushed away, fighting to keep her heartbeat calm and even. Her mouth tingled but she refused to lift her fingers to her lips. “I should kill you right here.”
“Yeah.” He backed away, his mouth mocking. “Yeah, you should.”
Her heart pounded now—insult and shock pulsing under a slick layer of aroused fear. Once more she had let him put his hands on her. He could have torn open her throat with one smooth move.
“Get out.” The words came out in a low trembling hiss.
“After you.” He raised a brow when she didn’t move. Even if she was an idiot, she wasn’t about to give her back to a damned vamp.
Another sizzling moment and he shrugged as if he didn’t really give a fuck, and walked towards the back entrance. Dina pushed through the crowd after him, forcing herself to breathe, already reaching for the short blade hidden at her lower back.
She’d cut strips off his skin before piercing his heart and leaving him for morning.
As if he read her mind, he smiled darkly when he turned and stepped aside. “Go ahead,” he said again and this time Dina took the invitation. Better to get out first and secure the scene instead of stepping out blindly.
The alley behind Kennedy’s was dark and crisp with cold November air, the stench of alcohol and trash a foul assault on her nose. His body was a shadow in the dark, silent and still.
She clutched the cold smooth handle of the push blade and swung out, barely missing bone and skin. Another strike, which he evaded just in time for her to ram a fist into his granite jaw.
Pain flashing up her arm, Dina jumped back and crouched, waiting for him to make a move. Willing him to make a move so she could kill him with a clear conscience.
A second passed. Another. He remained still, not lifting a limb to strike her. Instead she felt his gaze burning her skin.
She didn’t like the taste of fear and arousal, arousal she didn’t understand. Trembling, she let the knife drop to the ground, its clatter drowned by the thunder of her pulse.
She wouldn’t back away, she wouldn’t step closer. Trapped by his gaze, Dina damned clothing and caution and dropped her balance to the ground, forcing herself to shift into her other form. Instinct would overpower thought, she wouldn’t feel the tug and pull of lust inside her belly.
His gaze caressed her skin.
She bared her teeth at him, curling her hand into the ground. Another moment and she’d feel the kick and pulse of magic melding her bones into her other shape, forcing her into wolf form. She’d change while he watched, give him a good, long look. Maybe then his gaze would stop tugging at something inside her, maybe then she would tear him apart instead of wanting to jump him and give in to this greed for more.
The cold November breeze teased goose bumps on her skin. Still standing in the shadows, the vampire flicked his wrist to light a cigarette. The short flame lit his face, illuminating harsh lips and cruel watchful eyes.
“You let me know when you’re ready.”
Shock was a chilling coat of sweat. She couldn’t breathe because a fist squeezed at her belly. Her blood ran cold while she gasped for breath. She couldn’t shift, couldn’t feel the magic burning. Shaking, mindless, Dina groped for her knife, waited for him to leap, to grip her throat, to end it.
He took the cigarette out of his mouth, puffed out a ring of smoke. Holding her gaze, he uttered the same words that she had given him earlier.
“Get out.”
With shock clogging her throat, she did.
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