Dreams of a Dark Warrior iad-11

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Dreams of a Dark Warrior iad-11 Page 36

by Kresley Cole


  He raised himself on straightened arms. Head hanging down, his tags rattling around his neck, he gave one forceful shove over her. Gnashing his teeth, he dug his knees into the ground to heave his big body over her again.

  The third time, his back arched, and he raised his gorgeous face. His expression was agonized.

  On the fourth shove, he bellowed, “Regin!” That agonized expression transformed to one of ecstasy just as she felt him ejaculate inside her.

  Jet after jet of his scorching seed.

  He bucked his hips in a frenzy, flooding her … until she helplessly came from it.

  FIFTY-FOUR

  “ Need—more,” Declan grated between breaths, mere moments after she’d wrung from him the most mind-shattering pleasure he’d ever imagined.

  He lay atop her, heart thundering overs hers, his swollen shaft still buried deep inside her. The haze began to lift, yet Declan was by no means sated. “I … I can no’ stop,” he bit out.

  Though he might have vague recollections of taking her in the past, this was still new to him. Those memories were distant, didn’t feel real to him.

  She was real to him. I’m not givin’ her up to anyone. Never.

  “Who says you have to stop?” she murmured, her body so warm and giving beneath his. Her silvery eyes were brilliant in the night, her blond brows drawn with passion. Her silken skin was bright with it.

  “My woman’s wantin’ more?” he rasped, beginning to rock over her, reveling in their mingled wetness.

  Her lids grew heavy. “Always.” Her voice was throaty from her screams.

  He raised himself up on straightened arms. “Tell me what you need, Regin.” He wanted to pleasure her more than she’d ever been, to be the male she remembered above all others. He craved learning her body so well he knew it like his own.

  “Try me.”

  Gauging her reaction, he began to languidly stir his hips between her thighs. “Do you like that?”

  Arms falling back over her head, she purred, “I hate it.”

  But when he gave her quick pumps deep in her core, her head thrashed, and the addictive spark between them flared hotter.

  He clasped her hip, his thumb sifting through her blond curls, seeking her swollen little clit. When he rubbed it, she went wild, digging her heels down to buck beneath him.

  He groaned, “You like to move on me, lass?” Rising up on his knees, he positioned her over his lap.

  At once, she wrapped her arms around his neck, parting her lips for more of his kiss. He covered them with his own, licking her tongue. Her mouth was indescribably sweet. …

  Clutching her luscious arse, he wrenched her down his length while he thrust his hips up. She moaned into their kiss.

  Knees spread, he plunged into her with more force. When she tightened her hold around his neck, her straining nipples raked across his chest, whipping him into a lather. He ignored the tingling in his spine, the heavy ache in his ballocks. Won’t come before she does.

  Another harsh thrust … and another. Her moan grew continuous, her thighs locked around his waist, her arse writhing against his palms. On the edge.

  He used all his strength to take her, pounding up into her until his skin slapped hers, until her head fell back and she could do nothing but hold on as he pistoned beneath her. Mouth against her damp neck, he rasped, “You’re goin’ to come for me again?”

  “Yes! I’m so close …”

  He tugged her hair down. “Do you want more of my spend inside you?”

  She sobbed, “Yes, yes, yes!”

  “Then wring it from me,” he commanded at her ear. “Take it from me with your tight little quim.”

  “Declan!” she screamed, as she began to come wetly around his shaft.

  A guttural sound broke from his chest when he felt her sheathe tugging him deeper, its slick clench undeniable.

  In a daze, she moaned, “I want to feel it. Ah, gods, I want you. Want you.”

  At her words, pleasure racked him. His eyes rolled back in his head as he growled, “Yours, everything I am … yours.” With one last brutal thrust, the throbbing pressure in his cock gave way, erupting in a searing rush of seed.

  Chase clutched her as if he’d never let her go, one of his big hands palming the back of her head, the other gripping her ass. His hoarse exhalations fanned against her neck.

  Still quivering with pleasure, Regin squeezed her own arms around him.

  They clung to each other, as if they both feared something was about to pull them apart.

  For how long they stayed like this, she didn’t know. But when she managed to lift her eyelids, she saw that dawn had broken, the sun rising above a cloudless forest. She could hear gulls and waves. They must be close to the shore.

  “Never lettin’ you go, woman.” He ran his cheek against hers. “Love you.”

  And still Declan remained, his memories foremost. Which was good. Because she was in love with Declan Chase. I want my Irishman.

  Had the sand in the hourglass started to flow?

  He drew back his head, wrapping the crook of his arm around her neck. Gazing down at her with fierce gray eyes, he said, “You belong to me, lass. It will always be you.”

  It will always be me—but will it ever be you? The stark light of day filled her with dread. What have I done? She’d talked herself into believing this time would be different. She should have fought him harder. But she’d been so desperate to love him.

  Some things might have changed with this reincarnation, but the end result would be the same. Four times before, the man she’d made love to had been dead within hours. Those four times, her body had still borne the marks of his abandoned lovemaking—when his body had gone to the grave.

  She shuddered. Ah, gods, how could I have? Chase would die; the hourglass would empty. And this time, she wouldn’t survive losing him.

  When her tears welled, his eyes went wide. “No, what’s this? Shh, baby, please do no’ cry.”

  As tears tracked down her face, she stared beyond him, awash in dread. The brief show of sunlight surrendered to gray. Rain misted once more.

  “Lass, talk to me. You ken that I don’t like it when you’re quiet. This is because of the curse?” He petted her hair, rocking her. “I’m not goin’ anywhere. Nothing will separate us again. Wouldn’t I sense it if the end was near? I’ve never been more at peace in my entire life. It’s … pure peace, Regin.”

  With an angry shove, she clambered off him, disentangling herself from his body. “What about me? What about my peace?” She swayed on her feet as realization hit her. Aidan had never been the one cursed.

  She was.

  Regin was the one left to suffer, to mourn. To forever know what I’m missing.

  She collected her sodden jeans, dragging them on, then donned her shirt. “When you die this time, Chase, I don’t want you to come back.”

  “What?” He shot to his feet, stabbing his legs into his own pants. “What are you talkin’ about? Look at me! Why won’t you look at me? Christ, Regin, you’re actin’ like I’m dead already.”

  She swiped her forearm over her face. “Because you’re as good as.”

  Declan had never seen her like this. Her eyes were fully silver, but there was no spark in them. She wouldn’t look at him. As if she couldn’t.

  Just moments before, he’d felt more centered and at peace with himself than ever before; now she was steeped in misery.

  “We need to get to the boat,” Regin said distantly. “We’re running out of time.”

  “You don’t want me to come back because I’m no’ the Aidan you knew?” She’d expected her man to return, to supplant Declan. She’d longed for Aidan for two centuries.

  How could she not be devastated? “I don’t know why I’m still here. Maybe I did something wrong, fucked up the cycle.” Because he was definitely still … Declan. “I have Aidan’s memories, but they’re distant, like the dreams I had.” Somehow, it feels like I came first.

 
; “Exactly, Chase.” In a deadened tone, she said, “I don’t want you to come back because you’re a scarred, fucked-up Celt.”

  His lips parted. Never had a shot with her, not as myself. He ran a palm over his ruined skin, whipped with defeat, wanting to howl his frustration. What to say to her? I don’t want to look like this. Don’t want to be like this—

  “And I never wanted Aidan,” she whispered, “like I want you.”

  He’d misheard her. “I don’t understand, lass.” She couldn’t have chosen him over the perfect Viking.

  “I can’t lose you again. For a thousand years, it’s been all about your struggle, your return! But each time, you leave me as collateral damage. The centuries of waiting, the loneliness, and then that ridiculous flare of hope when I find you again. Though I know how it’s going to end—with me shattered.” Rain began to pour. “You’re going to die, Chase. Soon. There’s nothing I can do to prevent it. I know because I’ve tried over and over. And if you care about me at all, you won’t do this to me again. Don’t come back.”

  “Regin, just wait.”

  “I had it wrong all along. I’m not your doom, Chase. You’re mine—”

  A jet screamed overhead.

  They met gazes. “Move your arse, woman!” Declan snatched her hand, yanking her along toward the cove.

  As they sprinted closer to the shore, they heard Thad yell, “Regin, is that you?”

  “We’re coming,” she cried.

  “Uh, don’t!”

  “What?”

  They charged out from under the trees. Natalya, Brandr, and Thad stood before the boat house. But beneath it, the berth was … empty.

  Natalya’s face was pinched. “Somebody gacked our vessel.”

  Declan shoved his fingers through his hair. “Damn Lothaire! He took it!”

  “I’m right here, Blademan.” The vampire stood off to one side in the shade of the forest, casually leaning his shoulder against a tree trunk.

  “Then who took my fuckin’ boat?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine. They swooped in while we fought the Pravus.”

  “No one knew about this place!”

  More jets shot past overhead, followed by a distinctive whistling sound. Payload deployed.

  “Take cover!” Declan tackled Regin back under the trees, shielding her with his body. Everyone hit the ground, except for Lothaire, who yawned.

  Beneath Declan, Regin snapped, “You’re covering me? You’re the mortal—”

  Explosions rocked the quiet morning, deafening waves of sound close by. But there was no shaking earth, no trees felled. Instead, ash and grit began to fall, blanketing the beach with the steady downpour. The jets—and their bombs—had blown up in the sky.

  Declan lurched to his feet, helping Regin up.

  “Chase, what just happened?”

  As he and Regin gazed up in bewilderment, he mumbled, “I do no’ know—”

  A force slammed into his back; unimaginable pain seared through him.

  The bite of metal.

  He bellowed in agony, shoving Regin from harm’s way. …

  FIFTY-FIVE

  Chase’s shove sent Regin sprawling to the ground. As she whirled around, her mind struggled to process the wet sound of steel through flesh. She scrambled to her feet, gaping in disbelief.

  A blade speared Chase’s torso, the tip protruding from his chest. With each beat of his heart, blood streamed out around the jutting tip.

  “Nooo!”

  Chase’s hands clenched the sword point, his body futilely twisting around it. Behind him stood … Malkom Slaine.

  Regin sprang for the demon, claws bared. “I’ll kill you, Slaine!”

  Brandr was right behind her. But two pulses of energy sent them both flying. Carrow’s energy?

  The witch rushed up beside Slaine. “What is this, Valkyrie? We saved you from the magister!” She motioned for the vemon to withdraw his blade.

  Slaine looked deeply troubled. “I’ve done wrong, ara?” As he began pulling his sword out, blood poured from Chase’s mouth.

  “No, Malkom, of course not!” To Regin, she said, “You told me to kill the magister after you got vivisected. You ordered me to.”

  When Chase collapsed to his back, Regin dropped to her knees beside him. A sword through his chest, just like before. “Not again,” she screamed, “not again!” Tears gathered and spilled as she sobbed, “No, not again.” Lightning forked out overhead, continuous flashes across the sky.

  Chase raised a bloody hand to her face, cupping her cheek. “Sorry ’bout this, lass.”

  Brandr punched a tree, roaring with grief.

  “Don’t talk, Chase! We’re going to get you fixed.”

  “You were right … I’m not returnin’, Regin.”

  “No! I-I didn’t mean what I said.”

  “Will no’ do this to you again.”

  “What? Shut up! You have to come back. You fucking have to.”

  “I love you … too much. Find an immortal male to be with you.” He gritted his teeth.

  She knew how hard it’d been for him to say that. “I want you!” She probably should caress his face lovingly; instead, she clasped his chin and gave his head a rude shake. “I love you, dumbass!”

  His brows drew together. “You… do. Christ, you do.”

  “I’m so sorry, Valkyrie,” Carrow said. “I didn’t know you’d fallen for him! We heard you yelling, and we’ve been fighting all morning.”

  Regin faced her. “You’re from the healer caste. Heal him!”

  “I can’t! I used the last of my juice to blow up fighter jets and their huge bombs. And you know healing spells take mondo power.”

  “Then take him to Andoain, and get another witch to.”

  “Regin, that man probably killed Ruby’s mother—my cousin. And he tortured Slaine—my future husband.” Slaine dropped his big hand across Carrow’s nape, and his shoulders straightened. “No one in the House of Witches will help Chase.”

  Carrow and Slaine? Can’t process that now. “Chase didn’t kill your cousin. Please, you’re my friend. Help me!”

  Carrow surveyed him. “The man’s too far gone. The only one who could heal him would be Mariketa, and this operation has tapped her out even more than me. She found this island, a feat in itself, and even devised this.” Carrow held up a glowing thumb. “It’s a skeleton print key for the torque.” She crossed to Regin—with Slaine following protectively—and pressed it to her torque.

  The collar that had caused Regin so much frustration dropped to the ground; her panicked mind scarcely registered her freedom. Regin’s eyes darted before landing on Malkom Slaine’s looming form. “Then I-I need your guy’s blood!”

  Chase bit out, “Have you … lost your goddamned mind?”

  Carrow shook her head. “Malkom’s an anomaly. We don’t know what his blood would do.”

  Lothaire cleared his throat. “Couldn’t help but overhear that you’re canvassing for immortal blood.”

  Regin swung her head around. “Come on, vampire. Let’s do this.”

  “No!” Chase grated. “Don’t turn me into one like him.”

  “It’s the only way you’ll live,” Regin cried. “Can’t you see past your hate?”

  “Can you?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Between blood-tinged breaths, he choked out, “Know about your mother, about all the things vampires … have done to you. If I become a vampire … I lose you anyway, Regin.”

  “You’d rather die than lose me?”

  “O’ course!”

  “You tool, nobody’s losing anybody! You’re taking the blood. I don’t care what you are—as long as you’re with me.” Regin faced Lothaire again. “Please, I need you to do this now!”

  The vampire examined his black claws. “Must warn you though. I’ve already drunk from him. If he consumes my blood in turn, there will be unbreakable ties between us. Even more than if I merely became his sire.�
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  “I don’t care—do it!”

  “For a price.”

  The leech’s three favorite words.

  “No!” Declan roared, blood spilling over his lips. “The vampire orchestrated this … always knew it’d come to this. Tried to get us together … though he knew I’d die. You’ll make no vow to him!”

  Regin faced Lothaire. “Lemme hip you to some facts. You’re not getting off this island without our help. You do this, and I vow to get my witch friend to remove your torque.”

  Carrow gasped. “I’m supposed to release one of the most evil vampires in existence—”

  “The most evil,” Lothaire corrected, “if you please, flower.”

  “—to save one of the most evil mortals?”

  “If you don’t, Carrow, then your soon-to-be husband will have killed mine.”

  The witch held up her thumb again. “And we’ll be removing Lothaire’s torque!”

  “Husband?” Chase murmured. But then he shook his head. “I’ll fight the turnin’.” His lids grew heavy, his face paling.

  “Fight all you want, boyo. I’m determined.” He’d lost so much blood; it seeped out beneath him, an ever-growing ring in the sand.

  Brandr dropped down beside Regin. “Do this, friend. You don’t have much longer.”

  Regin ran her cheek against Chase’s hand. “If you love me, you’ll make this sacrifice for me. Nothing comes between us, remember?”

  “You turned my words … against me?” His eyes closed. “Think about what you’re doin’. …”

  When his head lolled, panic set in. She put her ear to his bloody chest, listening for his heart. Still alive. Just unconscious. Over her shoulder, she snapped, “Lothaire!”

  The vampire took a knee on Chase’s other side, then bit his own wrist. “Hold his mouth open.” Brandr pried his jaws wide so Lothaire could drip a generous stream inside. Then the berserker shoved Chase’s mouth shut until he swallowed.

  “Now what?” she asked.

  The vampire stood, dusting off his hands. “Now you wait. The magister will wake within three days, or he dies—” Lothaire tensed. “Nïx,” he hissed.

 

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