A sudden, unreasonable anger rose in Al-Kenna that this dead woman still had Alaric’s complete devotion and love. She was dead, for crying out loud! What did she need with love? Al-Kenna also knew the attention Alaric showed her was only pointed in her direction because she looked like this Smenkhare creature. He didn’t really care about her.
“I’m not Smenkhare,” she said angrily. “I’m Al-Kenna.”
He stared at her for a moment. “I know who you are,” he finally said.
“Do you?”
He lifted his leather-encased arm and rested it on the seat back behind her.
He was way too close. She couldn’t move now without some part of her body coming in contact with his. Full, sexy lips, those nearly translucent eyes fixed on her as she put space between them, it was all too much for her.
“Believe me, Al-Kenna, I know exactly who you are.”
She was about to express doubt when the pilot’s voice filled the cabin.
“Mr. Roth, all is in order.”
Alaric stared at her a beat longer, then rose from the sofa. “I’ll be right back,” he said, then made his way toward the cockpit.
Even from behind, he was a vision. The tan suede pants he wore hugged his hips. And he had thighs unlike anything she’d ever seen. She couldn’t take her eyes off the sway of his butt or the way the muscles in his legs contracted against the thick material. Vampire or not, Alaric had one awesome body.
“And I’m not wearing any underwear,” he said casually.
She jerked her eyes up the length of him in time to see him turn away from her and continue out of view. He hadn’t turned away so quickly that she hadn’t missed that cocky grin, though.
He knew she was staring at him…staring at his butt. He’d caught her in the very act.
Her face heated with embarrassment.
She would just have to try not to look at him any more. She wasn’t a fool, after all. She knew why she’d been invited on this little trip. She wasn’t so naïve as not to know Alaric would love the chance to bed his Smenkhare again, even if his Smenkhare were named Al-Kenna. If he caught her staring at him too often, he’d probably think she was offering him an invitation, which she wasn’t.
“They’ll be a car waiting for us when we reach the airport,” Alaric said when he returned to the lounge five minutes later. “Ever been in a Jag?”
He settled himself beside her again and she focused on ignoring him. She directed her next question to the floor. “You can rent a Jag from Budget Rental?”
She felt the low rumble of his laugh in her chest and fought not to raise her head to look at him.
“I wouldn’t rent a car from anyone with the word ‘budget’ in their name. Would you?”
She shrugged. “I don’t drive.”
She felt the heat of his body as he moved closer. His breath was hot on her ear and he’d set his arm on the seat back behind her again.
“I want to be inside of you, Al-Kenna. But you know that already, don’t you?”
She swallowed hard and worked to keep her eyes fixed to the floor. He wasn’t asking her a question, but telling her. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”
“And you desire me. Don’t deny it. I can smell your arousal.” His cheek grazed her own and he inhaled deeply. “ The aroma is sweet as honey. And I bet you taste as good. Probably better.”
“Alaric, I don’t think—”
She nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt his finger mark a slow path down the back of her neck. A shiver of pleasure rolled through her body and she let out a sigh before she could stop herself.
“You like that?” he whispered into her ear, easing closer.
“No,” she lied.
“How ‘bout this?”
“Oh, God.” She felt like she was melting. The closer he got to her, the faster her resolve vanished. As it was, she had to wrap trembling fingers around the arm of the sofa to steady herself.
He laved her ear, then sucked the tender lobe into the warmth of his mouth. It felt heavenly. She’d never known that part of her body was so sensitive. He released it and ran his tongue over the outer edge. It was then she knew the Warlord was right. She was no match for Alaric. He was far out of her league. If he were to take a sword to her, challenge her to battle, that she could handle; but this erotic play was unsettling and unimaginably stimulating. All she wanted was to feel more of this new delight. She loved the way her body felt so suddenly alive. Every inch of her skin burned with the need to be touched.
She leaned into him and nearly collapsed when he moaned into her ear.
“You taste so good,” he murmured.
All the while, one very skilled finger made little circles in the hollow of her throat. It felt so good, too good, and she needed more. She couldn’t explain this need. She’d never felt such an odd mix of pleasure, anticipation, and frustration, but she sensed as good as it felt to be touched and licked this way, there were things far better to experience. All she had to do was let go and give herself to him. Forget everything she’d been raised to believe, to delight in the kind of carnal pleasures Father Caleb had always instructed her against.
“Let me touch you,” he said, then licked her ear so slowly that for a moment, her knees knocked together with the effort of control.
“It’s forbi…oh, that feels so good.”
Taking that as acquiescence, he brought his free hand up and began working it under her tight tank top.
She knew she should bring a halt to these proceedings and let him know just how offended she was. Problem was, she wasn’t offended. She wanted more. If she’d known when she’d read that book about Alaric that soon she’d experience the pleasures that had so easily overcome Smenkhare, she would never have believed it. Yet here she was, falling into his arms as easily as Smenkhare had.
Smenkhare had faltered when she had a taste of his blood. All it had taken Al-Kenna was the touch of his tongue.
She arched her back, then yelped in surprise when he found her nipple and began to gently play with it, stroking the hard nub with his thumb and letting his nail scrape lightly over it.
“We should stop,” she said at last. “I shouldn’t be doing this. You’re a vampire.”
He removed the tickling fingers from her throat and used his thumb to maneuver her chin so she faced him. For a moment, she saw his eyes had already lost what little color they had, saw his canines hadn’t lengthened but had sharpened.
He ran his tongue over his lower lip. Just the sight of it, of imagining all of the wonderful things he could do with it, of the blood, made her moan.
Then, he leaned in and closed his lips over hers.
The kiss was slow and teasing, but it quickly grew more serious. The gentle laving of his tongue became the hungry ravishing of a starved man. His need seemed to overcome his previous attempt at mildness. She was being laid backward on the sofa. He broke contact long enough to position himself atop her.
She gasped in surprise at the press of his weight. The muscled plains of his chest were enough to keep her pinned beneath him, even if she weren’t caged within the confines of his arms. If she had time to consider this more, she would have realized the delicate position she’d allowed herself to be in, but all thought evaporated when he brought his mouth down on hers and kissed her with such heat, she wouldn’t have been surprised to see an eddy of smoke rising from their joined bodies.
“Can I have another taste?” She moaned into his mouth and closed her arms around his waist, glorying in the feel of this new delight. He seemed so ravenous, so hungry as he slid his tongue against hers.
He rotated his hips and she felt the press of his erection. Knowing how excited he was should have given her pause, but it only served to inflame her. She realized quite suddenly she wanted this. She’d wanted it since picking up that book in the archives and reading about him, since dreaming about him.
He opened his mouth wide and bared his fangs.
“Yes,” she
murmured. “The blood.”
“Shit!”
The exclamation brought her from her erotic fog. She knew it was Alaric who’d called out as there was no one else in the room who could have spoken, but his voice sounded strange. It was deeper than before, and there was something in the sound of that one word that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.
“Shit!”
Before she realized what he was doing, Alaric vaulted from the sofa and moved across the cabin so fast, she didn’t even see him move. One minute he was on top of her, the next he was on the other side of the room.
She sat up. “What’s wrong?” she asked his back.
“Bedroom. Now,” he said.
Since he was standing as far away from her as possible without leaving the room, she didn’t suppose he intended to join her.
“Are you getting all vampy on me again?” she asked.
“Go! Can’t control myself.”
She didn’t need him to elaborate. He had turned vampire and wanted to feed on her. She got to her feet and ran for the bedroom. She’d opened the door and was vaulting within the cool confines when she heard him call out.
“Bar the door against me, Damon.”
In the room, a startled Damon rose from the bed, gave her a hard stare, then did as told. But she didn’t believe for one second if Alaric decided he wanted to get in the room, Damon would be strong enough to keep him out.
* * * *
Alaric swore under his breath as the blood lust in him rose to a fevered pitch. The desire to steep himself deep within her moist warmth was nearly too intense to control. And the lust had brought him to the very edge of control. He was so hungry for that intimate connection of joined bodies and shared blood. It had been so long since he’d felt satisfied, and he knew after being with Al-Kenna, he’d be sated to the point of bliss. Problem was, he couldn’t feed on her. He didn’t care what the Warlord would say about it if he did. He had Al-Kenna where he wanted her now, he could feed on her at will and cover any signs of his feasting before she was anywhere near her father again. What stopped him was his memory of the look of fear he saw on her face the previous night when he’d tried. She’d been terrified. As much pleasure as the taste of her blood would give him, he wouldn’t do it unless she offered herself. He told her he wouldn’t hurt her and he meant it.
As he settled down on the sofa again, he stretched his hands out before him and was pleased to note his color was returning. He ran his tongue along his teeth and noted too that his fangs were receding.
What had he been thinking to bring her with him? How on earth was he going to spend days with her without feeding on her? His need—and it was need—was more powerful than any he’d ever experienced.
He didn’t know how long he could hold out.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Al-Kenna woke to the sound of rock music coming at her from every direction. Sounded like Godsmack. She jerked upright in the seat and clamped her hands over her ears. At first, she thought she was with Jesse, but as memory returned, fear took root and held fast. Everything that had happened came back to her in a rush of images.
Her last memory was of being on the plane. At present, though, they were in a parking lot outside a drugstore.
“Have a good sleep?” Alaric asked conversationally from beside her.
She didn’t answer. She was still half asleep.
When the overhead light suddenly flashed on, she screamed like a little girl.
Had Alaric moved, or had he just willed the light to come on?
“You’re scaring her again,” an accented Spanish voice declared…from behind her?
She realized then she wasn’t sitting on a seat but on a lap. On Damon’s lap. All at once, she felt the heat of his body beneath her, felt the play of rippling muscles on his thighs as he repositioned himself. The slight movement made her very aware that despite Damon’s calm voice, he was anything but. An unmistakable protrusion pressed insistently against her backside. The feel of it made her stomach clench.
“Where am I?” she demanded.
“New York.” When Damon spoke, with his lips pressed against her ear, the heat of his breath tickled her. “We’re a few miles from Figlio’s house. We stopped to buy you some food. You must be hungry.”
She glanced around the car, trying to get her bearings.
“Calm yourself, Al-Kenna,” Damon said. He closed his arms around her. The movement was slow, gentle even, and it had an oddly calming affect. The warmth of his body seeped into her. Even the sound of his Spanish accent as he spoke was soothing.
She tried not to think about the ramifications of being alone with these men. Both oozed sex appeal. And everything about Alaric captivated her, save the one little fact of him being a vampire.
She opened her mouth to speak, but whatever she was about to say was cut off when Alaric bent over the seat and captured her mouth with his. Their tongues met and tangled.
Moaning into her mouth, he cupped his head and pulled her closer. He growled. The sound was untamed, savage.
“I won’t hurt you, so relax,” he said when he’d pulled back.
There was something strangely erotic about sitting in Damon’s lap, his arms pulled tight around her, while the taste of Alaric was on her tongue.
What was scary was that she was enjoying this.
* * * *
Alaric held the door open for her and she stepped inside the foyer and glanced around, too stunned to speak. This didn’t look anything like a beach house. It looked like a small palace. Thick oriental rugs lined the checkered floor, a split marble stairway curved in a wide oval above them, and an ornate chandelier hung high overhead. All this, and she’d only seen the foyer. Even when she felt Alaric step in behind her and press close, she couldn’t find the appropriate words.
“I hope your reticence is due your overwhelming approval of our temporary quarters.”
She turned to face him. The simple movement made him step back a pace to set some distance between them.
“That beauty of yours is lethal,” he said as he hiked her duffle higher on his shoulder. “Remember. Watch how you look at me. You don’t want me to go all 'vampy' on you again.”
She was attracted to Alaric, true, but she wouldn’t let him feed on her. That would be a line she could never cross. That he knew and respected this showed her she could trust him more than anything else he could have said.
“While you two spend the rest of the evening tiptoeing around each other, I’m going out to feed, then up to bed,” Damon said. “I’m hungry and exhausted.”
Al-Kenna watched Damon as he retreated up the stairs. She noticed the way his muscles constricted under the leather pants, watched the sway of his butt as he moved out of sight.
When she realized Alaric was watching her watch Damon, she looked away and cleared her throat. “He’s right. You can’t spend the next few day tiptoeing around me,” she told Alaric.
“Is that so? What would you suggest?”
She fixed her gaze to the floor and grimaced at what she was about to say. It had to be said, though. One of them had to say it, or they were in for a miserable couple of days. “I like kissing you, Alaric. I don’t think it’s logical to think the two of us can be in this house alone and not be at least a little intimate.” She chanced a glance at him and was relieved to see he was smiling. “Don’t you think?”
“You don’t know how thoroughly I want you. You don’t know the risk you’re taking by admitting you desire me.”
“What would happen if you bit me? Would I turn into a vampire?”
“No. Nothing would happen to you. It’s not like the movies; people don’t accidentally become vampires and werewolves. I’d have to make you a vampire. It would be a conscious effort on both our parts.”
So, theoretically no harm could come to her, save the emotional realization that she’d just allowed a vampire to feed on her.
“I won’t have you afraid of me,” he said. “I
want you to trust that I won’t hurt you.”
She nodded. “How long until you think Figlio will return?”
“Change of subject, eh? I’ll play along. If he has any plan to return, it will be sometime before we wake tomorrow evening.” He kicked the door shut with the heel of his boot and ushered her inside.
He led her through the foyer into a airy room whose walls were made entirely of glass. Though no lights were lit within, there was enough light coming into the room from the full moon high above in the night sky. A fireplace provided a focal point for the room and stuffed leather sofas were positioned around it. On the floor was what looked like a fur rug, though she couldn’t tell what kind of animal the fur had once belonged to.
“And the backyard is, of course, the ocean. Do you like the beach?”
He tossed her duffle onto one of the sofas and led her to wide French doors that sat at the back of the room. Even from where she stood, the view took her breath away.
“I’ve never been to the beach for pleasure before,” she answered as he led her through the doors and into the night.
They stepped down onto an iron-railed portico. Wrought iron chairs and tables were positioned to face the sea. Al-Kenna marveled at the thought of owning a house like this where she could sit outside and see such a view at will.
The sky was a deep syrupy black. It seemed millions of stars twinkled in the thick abyss of night, and the moon shone brilliantly. The smell of the ocean was in the air all around her and though it was cold, she took in a deep lungful of air. When she closed her eyes, the sound of waves crashing against the shore made her smile. She opened her eyes quickly, though, and glanced up and down the beach.
“We’re pretty isolated,” she said as she stepped down the portico stairs and followed Alaric onto the beach. She wasn’t dressed for the beach, and her shoes felt bulky and ungainly as she made her way across the sand behind Alaric.
Nephilim War: Book 2 Page 19
