Cool and casual, she forced a smile. “Thanks.” She reached for the clasp of her jeans.
“Let me.” Rough and calloused, his hands covered hers.
“I can do it.” Control—she needed to keep some.
“Ah, sweetheart”—he pressed both palms into her shoulders, caressing down her biceps, past her elbows, to clasp her wrists—“you might want to be careful how you play.”
The low tone found a direct line to her clit. Hot, moist, reacting just to him. She clenched her thighs together to keep from rubbing against him. “I’m not playing.”
“Neither am I.” His gentle grip tightened and he lifted both wrists above her head, securing them in one large hand. “There now.”
The stretch arched her back, scraping her nipples against his warm skin.
Pure pleasure zapped from her breasts to her core. Lights flared behind her eyelids. “Max.” She aimed for demand, though it sounded more like a plea. She was beyond caring.
A low rumble came from his chest. “You say my name like that, sweetheart, I might come right now.” Cool air washed over her as he eased back just enough to place a palm against her upper chest, tapered fingers spread out. “The first time I saw you, when you tried to kick me, I imagined this. You, so sexy, wet for me.”
His fingers slid between her breasts and down to her waist to unclasp her jeans. Sliding his hand around, he plunged it inside her jeans and cupped her butt. “When I saw this sweet ass wiggling out of that window, I hoped I’d get the chance to sink my teeth right here.” He ran a finger along the crease where her buttock met her thigh.
A whimper escaped her. So much sensation—heat and need rose up so hard, so fast—her breath caught. As she tried to focus, tried to gain some control, her jeans and panties hit the floor.
He released her wrists.
The strongest man she’d ever met dropped to one knee. She protested, shifting sideways, only to have one broad hand clasp her thigh to hold her in place. “Max—”
His mouth found her. A low hum of male appreciation echoed against her clit. Oh God. Her head knocked against the smooth wallpaper. His index finger caressed her folds, sliding inside, gentle and sure. His tongue flicked out to play.
Tremors shook her knees. Lines of lightning blasted behind her lids. Pleasure, so demanding, so consuming, filled her until all she could do was feel. She pressed her palms to the wall, trying to stay upright.
A second finger joined the first and fucked her with slow, sure strokes. Helpless, she gyrated against him.
With a hungry growl, his lips enclosed her clit, and sucked.
The world exploded.
She cried out. Her eyes opened to the room sheeting white. Waves cascaded through her, and she sobbed his name. He gentled her, waiting until she calmed before standing.
Rough, his hand tangled in her hair and he took her mouth. Hard as granite, he pressed against her—towered over her. With her height, she met most men eye-to-eye. Not Max. Surrounded by him, she felt small, feminine. Like she’d imagined those perky cheerleaders had felt in high school. Deep down, she sighed.
He ate at her mouth, devouring her with incredible heat. His tongue claimed, his lips possessed. Her arms rose and encircled him, both hands spreading across his muscular back.
Desire flared to life inside her again, stronger—heavier and more insistent—than before. She slid her palms down, caressing over old scars and ridges to reach an excellent male ass. She squeezed.
The room tilted. Less than a heartbeat later, she found herself flat on the mattress, Max over her. His mouth enclosed one nipple.
Fire lanced through her. “God, Max.”
He chuckled, the vibrations nearly sending her over the edge. One inflexible knee parted her thighs, pressing against her swollen core. His dangerous mouth wandered over to lick and torture the other breast.
She tugged on his thick hair. “Now, Max. Please.”
A solid arm banded around her waist. The room tilted again. She landed on top of him, straddling his magnificent body, his cock pulsing beneath her. His grin surpassed wicked, his eyes a dark maroon—way beyond pink. “You set the pace, sweetheart.” For the briefest of moments, vulnerability flashed in those otherworldly eyes.
Her heart thumped hard against her ribs. He was afraid of hurting her. Emotion swelled her chest. The need to protect him, the feminine need to reassure him, caught her off guard. “I trust you, Max. You won’t hurt me.”
“I know.” He grasped her hips, raising her in the air—onto him.
Bending forward, she cautiously guided him into her body. Several times she paused, allowing her body to adjust to his size.
The fingers at her hips dug in, his palms vibrating. Muscles rippled in his abs and chest as he held himself in check.
Power spiked along her spine. Control. She had it, and paused again, a flirtatious chuckle bubbling up.
Warning flared in his eyes. His hold tightened. He plunged up, pressing her the rest of the way along his shaft. Pain froze her in place, then pleasure burst so hard and fast she clutched both hands to his chest.
“I warned you about playing, Sarah.” While he sounded in control, a vein pulsed in his forehead.
The dare pushed her beyond reason. Beyond the logical, steady woman she’d always been. “Is that so?” Her lips tickled into a small smile. She rose up, and slowly slid down, taking all of him, torturing them both.
He tightened his grip on her hips once again. “Sarah.”
Freedom gave her courage. The courage to push herself and the courage to tempt him. She needed to be the one to make him lose himself. She levered up, then teased him with a slow glide down again.
A primal growl erupted from his chest.
Caution flirted, but the man tempted her more. She flattened her palms on his abdomen, tightened her muscles, and levered up, torturing them both.
No additional warning was given. He flipped her beneath him, plunging deep and fast. His hands trapped hers against the bed. Pleasure bit into her. Triumph rushed through her. She curled her fingers through his, meeting him thrust for thrust.
His gaze devoured hers. “Wrap your legs around me.”
She did, and he plunged deeper. She locked her feet at the small of his back, holding on to his hands. Harder, more powerful, his thrusts rocked the bed, overwhelming her. Giving so much pleasure, yet taking far more than she’d intended to give—part of herself—a piece she wasn’t sure she’d ever get back.
Torment filled his eyes. His fangs dropped low and sharp.
Need whipped through her sex. Unbidden, she turned to expose her neck, offering.
A half growl, half groan ripped from his chest. Capturing her wrists in one hand over her head, he grabbed her ass, lifting her. His knees bent and he yanked her into him, pounding as if he couldn’t stop.
Oh God. So close. She was so close. “Max.”
He angled the base of his shaft over her clit. Fire exploded from inside her, ripping along every nerve. She cried out, arching against him, sensations consuming her. With a growl, he ground into her, his entire body tightening as he came. Holding her tight, he filled her with so much more than the physical. He dropped his head onto her neck, giving her a soft kiss.
He released her wrists and settled against her. She lowered her arms and held him tight. So tight. How could she ever let him go?
Chapter 7
Morning rain pattered peacefully against the window as Max ran a gentle hand down Sarah’s soft arm. The woman slept soundly.
He’d been too rough with her. He should probably feel guilty instead of profoundly pleased. His mate. No question now, if there had been one earlier. Keeping his fangs in his mouth and not in her neck had taken every ounce of self-control he’d honed through the centuries. Even now, sated after an entire night of truly excellent sex, his canines ached, creating a pulsing demand to take ... to claim.
She felt the bond, too. When she’d turned and exposed her neck, she’d sealed he
r fate. He’d take what she’d offered as soon as the virus was cured. Now that he’d found her, his entire existence narrowed to keeping her safe. It would be much easier to do if he could put her and Janie in the same place.
But first, he had a job to do.
Quietly, he slipped from the bed and yanked on cargo pants. Tiptoeing out of the bedroom, he shut the door behind him and padded barefoot through the penthouse to open the door. Conn sat in a chair in the hallway with both doorways in sight.
Max rubbed his whiskers. “Thought you’d be gone.” Though he hadn’t, not really. He knew his friend would be watching the door.
Conn shrugged. “Had a feeling you might be preoccupied.”
“She’s mine.”
“I know.” Conn’s smile failed to reach his eyes. “It’s different. With your mate, I mean.”
“Yeah.” Max had never figured to find a mate. The idea of staying away from her now, well, seemed truly impossible.
His respect for Conn grew—what self-restraint the soldier must’ve had to stay away from his mate. His friend had mated an Irish witch a hundred years ago, a young witch who needed time to train. Conn had given her a century. “Go to Ireland, Conn.”
“I’m planning on it. As soon as I get you all settled.”
A sense of belonging settled hard on Max’s shoulders. The Kayrs brothers treated him like one of them. “I can settle myself, Connlan.”
“You’re family, Max. Always have been.” Conn drew a knife out of a pocket, flipping and catching it.
“You’ve never questioned that.” Two hundred years ago, when Dage had rescued Max from hell and took him to their home, the brothers had banded around him. He’d never understood why.
“There’s nothing to question.” Conn raised an eyebrow, continuing his game with the knife, yet focusing on Max.
“You’re going to stab yourself.”
But he wouldn’t. The ultimate soldier, Conn would get bored long before losing control of the knife.
Max shook his head. “You didn’t know me. In fact, what you did know, well, wasn’t good.”
“I knew your father was an asshole who beat the hell out of you—which wasn’t your fault.” Conn tucked the blade into his left boot, keeping eye contact. “You’re one of us, Max. It’s time to stop being grateful, time to stop wondering how to make yourself valuable. I’m not the wise one around here, but that much I know. Your place is here, regardless.”
Hope unfurled inside Max. Something even more tenuous let loose—trust. From the second he’d been asked to protect Janie, he’d felt at home with the Kayrs family. Dage would only trust family with her safety. Dage had probably put them together as much for Max as for Janie. Max had been frozen and unemotional before meeting the little girl, and now he was ready to take a chance with a mate. Maybe he really did belong. “Thanks, Conn.”
“Don’t get mushy on me, Max.” Conn cleared his throat.
Yeah. Neither one of them was good with the emotional shit.
Max rolled his shoulders. “If I mate Sarah, she’ll be in danger.” Damn. How the hell did that slip out? Now he was sharing his feelings? Not a subject he’d intended to broach.
“Yeah.” Conn stood and stretched his neck. “She’s fragile as a human, though.” He grimaced. “Tough choice to make.”
For the first time, Max almost envied Conn for the surprise mating a century ago. A quick roll in the hay had changed his friend’s life forever. “Would probably be easier having things in place, like you.”
Conn’s laugh lacked humor. “That’s what you think. The second I step foot on Ireland, that woman is going to try and light me on fire. While I’d like to court her ... in order to survive, I’m going to have to tame her.”
Tame a witch? Especially a powerful one like Moira? “You’re screwed.”
“No question about that.” Conn glanced at the closed door. “Will Sarah hold up all right today?
“Yes. The woman has brains and guts. She’ll be fine in court.” Though, what if an evil criminal had sat in the witness chair before her? Max scrubbed his gritty eyes. Having a mate took a lot of thought. “Is there any way we can scrub down the chair first?” Would that even help? He needed to find out more about that gift of hers in order to protect her.
“Maybe. I wish there was another way to get the company stock. Dage wants us under the radar for this one ... too many humans are already working in our labs.”
“They don’t know about us or even what they’re working on. Dage is covered.” Max would immediately take out anyone who threatened his king.
Conn shrugged. “Maybe. But you know our world. Rumors can be as bad as true fact in the Realm. Personally, I’d rather let Sarah’s brother get the stock and torture him until he sells to us. But then we’ll have to kill him. So Dage wanted to go the legal route.”
Torturing the man who’d put Sarah in the insane asylum held certain appeal for Max. The killing didn’t bother him much, either ... though it might upset her. “I don’t like the legal route.”
“Me either. Probably why we’re not king.” Conn stilled, and then tapped his ear communicator. “Okay. Send them up.”
Max lifted an eyebrow.
“Clothes for court today.” Conn stood, casually taking a gun from his waist.
“Who was on the other end of that conversation?” Max aligned himself against the penthouse doorway, between Sarah and any danger.
“Reinforcements. I called them the second I sensed Sarah was a potential mate.” Conn took aim at the closed elevator doors. “When it became apparent she was yours, I doubled the number.”
Max straightened, his gaze on the man who was as close as a brother to him. Warmth and belonging settled hard, somewhere in his solar plexus. “Thank you.”
“No problem.”
The door slid open to reveal a soldier they both knew well carrying bags of clothing. “Delivery,” he muttered.
“Thanks, Chalton.” Max smiled and grabbed several bags from the soldier. “I’ll go awaken ... my mate.”
Sarah smoothed down the silk skirt, shifting uncomfortably on the hard wooden chair. The compact courtroom held a judge’s bench with a witness chair facing two tables separated by a narrow aisle. A jury box sat empty to her right and three rows of benches lined the room behind her. Max loomed on the first one near the aisle, Jase sat at one table with her, and Conn leaned against the wall by the door as they waited for the judge to show.
While no vibrations came from the skirt, a nervous accountant on trial for fraud had last sat in the chair—nervous and guilty as hell.
She took a peek at her brother and his beautiful attorney seated at the other table. Andrew was wearing Armani. The attorney was a blond hottie in a light gray suit and three-inch red Jimmy Choos. Great shoes.
Jase tapped an elegant pen on a legal pad. “Take a deep breath, Sarah. You’ll be fine.”
She forced a grin. “You look the part, Jase, but you didn’t have to cut your hair.”
He’d shaved his scruffy beard and lopped off his long brown hair, though the ends still curled over his collar. The pinstriped gray Caraceni suit he wore fit him perfectly.
He shrugged. “I was ready to cut it. We’ve been training like crazy, and Conn keeps grabbing me by the hair to throw across the field.”
They were brothers, right? “How old are you, anyway?” Probably early twenties.
“Three hundred and ten years.” Jase eyed the opposing attorney, giving her a slight lift of the chin. Color slid under the blonde’s smooth skin.
Sarah coughed. “You’re kidding me.” She pivoted to face Max, who met her gaze with a nod of encouragement.
Showered and dressed in black slacks and a white button-down shirt, he was a bit irritated he couldn’t bring weapons into the courthouse. Darn metal detectors.
“How old is Max?” she whispered.
“Two hundred next month,” Jase said, grinning. “We try to throw him a party every decade, and it irritat
es as much as confuses him. He didn’t have that as a kid.”
Sadness filtered through Sarah. She was so sorry for the child Max must’ve been. “Yeah, he told me.”
“Really?” Jase started. “Interesting. Perhaps you’ll be at the next party. Janie has been planning it to include a puppy. I think she wants the puppy.”
Sarah frowned, her gaze on Max’s enduring face. They hadn’t had a chance to talk earlier—they’d hurried to make it to court on time. Would he stay in touch? Did he want a relationship? Sure hadn’t felt like a one-night stand.
Max frowned back.
She lifted one eyebrow in what she hoped appeared indifference, pivoting to face the front. “What if we lose, Jase?”
He lost his grin, looking decades older. “We can’t lose. This is the only way we get our hands on the altered protein. If the Kurjans get it first, they’ll use the protein before we can invent countermeasures. We’ll lose mates, including my pregnant sister-in-law and my queen.”
“I still think the minority stockholders will have something to say about lab results being made available to stock owners.”
Jase shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. You own the majority of the stock—you can do what you want, include selling to us. Then we’ll have access, whether the minority stockholders like it or not. Nothing they can do about it.”
A breeze threw pinecones against a high row of windows as sunlight cascaded through. Jase cut a glance at Conn.
“What?” Sarah asked.
“I’m happy the sun is out. No Kurjans today.” Jase scratched his head. “Remember to answer the questions the way we rehearsed on the ride over.”
“I’ll try.” She wouldn’t lie under oath unless she absolutely had to. The idea made her squirm in her pale blue suit. “Thanks again for the clothes.” The spiked heel of the soft pink Manolo Blahniks gave her a sense of strength. Odd, but true. Of course, having tough-assed vampires in the room ready to defend her, well now, that wasn’t bad, either.
Tempted (dark protectors ) Page 6
