Evading (Regent Vampire Lords Book 4)

by K. L. Kreig

  “Squeeze that pussy, Giselle. Squeeze it hard. Right fucking now.”

  Mike took control then, flipping Giselle onto her back. Bracing on his forearms with his hands securely wrapped in her blonde locks, he took her mouth like he took her body.

  Savage. Rough. Ruthless.

  He was relentless, a man driven by pure, raw need. It was exactly what she craved. When he bellowed his release, it triggered an unstoppable avalanche.

  Ecstasy slammed into her as she took that last leap off a skyscraper and floated high above the ground. She was weightless. Suspended in that spot between space and time like she was nothing and everything.

  Gravity eventually tugged, the inevitable fall back to Earth happening. It always did, sometimes faster than others, but this time, she drifted light as a feather. Blowing back and forth easily on the winds of pleasure. The landing was soft. Lazy.

  Her senses gradually returned. Pinned between a hard, heaving body and the softness of bedding, she was wrapped in the heady, addictive scent of sex and her Fated.

  “I never thought I’d say these words, but think I need a break, baby. My cock is about ready to fall off.”

  She laughed, the sound muffled in the cords of Mike’s thick neck. “I’m sorry.”

  He pulled back, cupping her face. “Don’t be sorry. I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m only a weak human.”

  Sobering, she stroked his cheek lovingly. He was so much more than he saw. “You’re wrong. You’re the strong one here.”

  “No, Giselle. I’ve never met a single person fiercer than you.”

  A smile played with her lips before she let it out. She was relaxed and lighthearted. Two adjectives that would have never dared appear in the same sentence with Giselle before. “We could argue about that all day, but I guess we’ll just have to agree to disagree.”

  “I guess we will.”

  “Or we could fight about it and then have make-up sex.”

  “Woman…” he groaned. “I need some rest.”

  With her laughing, Mike kissed the tip of her nose before easing away. She marveled at both his fine, tight ass and how empty she felt with him gone, even just a few feet from her. In equal measure, she both liked and disliked the needy way she felt around him. Is this overwhelming need for your Fated normal? She wished she had someone to ask, like another female, because there was no way in hell she was asking her Vampire Lord, and Ren wouldn’t know.

  Mike returned quickly with another hot cloth, gently cleaning her. Though she should be wrung dry, she squirmed under his touch and sighed when his hot breath hit her inner thigh before his lips landed for a sweet kiss.

  “I love you,” he whispered against her abused sex.

  “Are you talking to my pussy right now?” she asked on a chuckle.

  Looking up from between her legs, his smile was lascivious. “Why wouldn’t I be? It is spectacular.”

  Peals of happiness filled the small room. “Oh my God. You are insane.”

  “Tell me you don’t love my cock.” He climbed up her body slowly, nipping her exposed flesh along the way like a predator toying with its food. His stiffening shaft pressed against her inner thigh and her moan was so loud she was sure the neighbors heard.

  “No,” she teased breathlessly. God, is this what normal couples do? Laugh, play, and have fun lounging in bed after countless rounds of sex? She’d been missing out on this for months.

  “No what? No, you don’t love it or no, you can’t tell a lie?”

  “No, I don’t love it.”

  “A liar you are, eh?” he groused against her mouth. Tracing her lips with the tip of his tongue, Giselle sighed his name when he slipped inside her mouth and her pussy at the same time.

  “I thought your cock was going to fall off?” she half groaned, half laughed.

  She lost all ability to breath when he slid out and plunged back in hard and deep, practically lifting her off the bed.

  “Tell me you love my cock.” His mouth crept across her jawline. It was very, very convincing, almost too convincing, but she wasn’t done playing.

  “It’s okay, I suppose.”

  Along with another cocky demand, he repeated the process, dragging their ultrasensitive nerve endings lazily along each other before driving back in. He was so damn deep she didn’t know where she ended and he began. She never wanted to find out.

  “Say it.”

  “Mike…” she hummed. She was unraveling. Fast. The road to rapture was short this time. She’d almost reached the top of the hill when he stopped. “What—”

  “Say. It.”

  “You’re actually going to withhold—”

  “You’d better fucking believe I am.”

  The corner of her lip curled. She ran a fingertip lightly over his carotid, practically moaning at the kick she felt in his pulse. It matched the one she felt pulsing deep in her core right now. “I bet I can change your mind,” her voice purred, dripping with a lure that was almost impossible for any human male to deny.

  In a swift move, he had her hands pinned in his and above her head. “Yes. I bet you can. But I want you to give me this.”

  Except apparently the male who was to be her mate.

  “Why?” she panted. Do it, her body begged. Give in. But giving in wasn’t her strong suit. In fact, it wasn’t any suit she would ever wear.

  “I need to know you’re as addicted to me as I am to you.” The steady, languid rocking of his hips resumed. But it wasn’t enough. Not even close to enough.

  “I am. I’m worse than an addict.”

  “Then tell me you love my cock.”

  She was smiling so big her face hurt. “I genuinely like it. A lot, in fact.”

  His laughter mingled with hers. Giselle definitely wasn’t a romantic being, but she’d never heard a sweeter sound than that of their combined genuine, relaxed contentment.

  Trying to goad her, Mike picked up his pace until they were both panting. She was so close to orgasm, she could taste it, feel it, drink it almost. It was hers for the taking. Just one…more…thrust.

  The bastard stopped.

  Again.

  “I’m not going to let you come until you tell me.” As if to prove his point, he flipped her onto her stomach and slid back inside before she could protest.

  But in this position, the familiar swell of panic began creeping over her like a colony of fire ants cutting along her skin. Her flesh prickled and she started to sweat for an entirely different reason. This was the only way males took her in her former life. From the safety of behind.

  Flashbacks assailed her. They tried to drag her flailing and screaming into their bruising hold once again. She fought. She wasn’t there, she wasn’t there, she wasn’t there.

  Sensing her unease, Mike stopped and wrapped a palm around her throat, using his thumb to turn her toward him. The lines of his face were hard and soft all at the same time. “Watch me, baby. Stay with me. Only me. Yeah?”

  Giselle nodded almost imperceptibly trying like hell to blink away the moisture gathering in her eyes.

  “Don’t look away from me.” Withdrawing slowly, he eased back in just as unhurriedly.

  “I won’t,” she breathed shakily. With his encouraging gaze, the dread began to lessen, but it still felt stifling, nauseating. Humiliation filled her to the breaking point. “I…I don’t know if I can…”

  “Yes, you can,” he replied with a passion she’d not heard from him before. “I’m taking this from them. You hear me? They don’t get any fucking part of you. I get them all. You’re all fucking mine.”

  Swallowing hard, a single tear fell. He lapped it up, letting his lips linger. “You’re mine. Say it.”

  “I’m yours.”

  “I want you to tell me they can’t have you.”

  “Mike—”

  “Giselle,” he retorted hotly.

  “They can’t have me,” she eventually acquiesced. The declaration felt good. Powerful. She’d said them countless times bef
ore, but for the first time in her life…she meant it. She didn’t want this invisible hold tethering her to the horrors of yesterday. She wanted to be free. “They can’t have me,” she echoed, stronger this time.

  “Good girl.”

  Mike pressed back in on a long, broken groan. This time, she focused only on him. His ragged breathing against her throat, the flecks of amber dotting his irises, the song their bodies made together. Once again, he drove them up the sharp edge of bliss in tandem, but it was his heartfelt words that started her tipping. “God, I love you, Giselle.”

  “I love you, too, Mike,” she choked. So much it hurt.

  “Now tell me you love my cock.”

  The ridiculousness of his untimely demand broke her in the very best possible way. She laughed but the sounds were swallowed by his kiss of passion and possession. His demand to obey.

  “I love your cock,” she whispered against his hot, sinful mouth.

  “I knew it.” The smirk in his tone should annoy her. It would have in the past. But all it did now was make her giddy. Fucking giddy, like a hormone-ravaged teenage girl. Like…like Kate, Dev’s mate. Christ almighty. Really? “Now come on it,” he demanded smoothly. “And come hard. I want your pussy strangling me.”

  She didn’t think she was close enough, but when he sank his teeth into the crease where neck met shoulder, she detonated. All she could think of was his mouth sucking at her vein with the sharp incisors he would grow upon their bonding. The thought of him taking her nourishment into his body caused her to come harder than she ever had before.

  “That’s it, baby. Fuck, yes, give it to me.”

  His body stiffened behind her and with a low growl in her ear, not only did she feel his release deep within her soul, she felt her soul release into him.

  “Am I crushing you?” he asked a few seconds later on a short pant. He’d gone completely lax on top of her. He was heavy, but oh so right.

  “No. You feel good.”

  “You know you’re mine.” His broken breath scattered along her cooling flesh, pebbling every inch of her.

  “Yes,” she agreed.

  “Forever, Giselle. No more fighting against this.” She sighed as he peppered her with kisses from the back of her neck across her bare shoulder. Every one was a promise she knew he would keep.

  “Okay.”

  “Good. It’s about fucking time.”

  She grinned. Her detective was brash and vulgar and as hot as the sun at noon on a cloudless summer day. He had a way with words that both infuriated and ignited her.

  But he was hers and she was his.

  Yeah. It was about fucking time.

  11

  Mike

  “Mighty dangerous to be wandering around a house full of blood drinkers all by your lonesome, human.”

  With some fancy imported Belgian beer dangling from his fingers, Mike turned from the fridge to face Ren. He’d much rather take a plain old Bud any day than this expensive, albeit tasty brew, but this would have to do. Hell, this one beer alone probably cost more than a case of his rather trailer-park drink.

  “What can I say? I’m a born risk-taker.”

  “Or just fucking stupid. Little early for that, isn’t it?” Ren’s raised, condescending brows cut under his skin.

  “Well, in the infamous words of good ol’ Jimmy,” he replied before taking a long swig, “it’s five o’clock somewhere.”

  Ren grabbed a matching beer. While he popped the top, he eyed Mike with an I-dare-you-to-say-something cocky-ass grin on his face. Mike just smirked and shook his head.

  The fucker was starting to grow on him.

  “See you found our seductress, huh?”

  “I told you before, bleeder, she’s mine. Not yours.” His voice held the blue edge of a flame. He knew Ren was simply trying to poke the bear. This time, it wouldn’t work.

  “Does she know that?”

  His spine straightened. “Know what?”

  “That you think she’s yours.”

  “There’s no thinking about it.”

  Ren’s bottom lip poked out briefly, the corners of his mouth fighting a smile. “I see.”

  “Glad you got your vision issues worked through.”

  Ren’s rich, deep laugh carried through the entire kitchen before coming to a slow stop. His knowing gaze infiltrated Mike’s and they stood in some sort of quiet, weird…what? Camaraderie, maybe? Yeah, definitely weird, but if Giselle was going to be part of his life—and there was no if about it—he’d have to come to some sort of truce with the males in it. Like it or not.

  Besides, there was something he needed to know and didn’t have anyone else he could ask besides the hulk in front of him.

  “Where is she then?” Ren asked, glancing around briefly.

  Giselle was giving all the information they’d pulled together on Sarah’s biological family to Sarah right now, but since he didn’t know if their project was common knowledge he kept his mouth zipped shut.

  “Around.” He settled for protecting her privacy.

  “Maybe she brought you into the lion’s den as some sort of fucked-up test.”

  Mike’s lips quirked in amusement. He had a feeling the shit throwing would always be like this with Ren, who had obviously become like an overprotective older brother. It was clear Ren cared deeply about Giselle. Before these last few days, that irked Mike, but now…now he had a feeling he wouldn’t even have this woman at all without this male’s help. So, yeah, he’d play along. He’d take Ren’s little “test,” since that’s what this really was.

  Finishing half his beer in one large swallow, he set his empty on the counter, wiping a stray drop dangling from his lip. “Yeah? What sort of test we talking about?”

  “Let’s call it a…ballbreaker experiment. See how big and tough your nuts really are. An assessment of your manhood, your survival skills, your cunning, your worthiness as a mate. See how long you can last in a house full of blood drinkers who don’t care if you live or die.”

  He couldn’t concentrate on any other bait the bloodsucker sneered except mate.

  Mate.

  So Ren had known about him and Giselle. Interesting. He wondered how. Somehow he didn’t think Ren and Giselle had had a heart-to-heart because she’d spent all her energy over the last year denying what they were to each other. As had he. But if he’d wondered about her friend’s approval, he didn’t need to anymore. This conversation would be going in a whole different direction if Ren would rather slit his throat.

  With everything in him, he stomped on the grin that tickled his lips. Shrugging nonchalantly, he tossed out, “All right. I’ll bite. So what do I need to do to pass this so-called ‘test’?” Test was in air quotes.

  Ren closed the distance between them in three long, powerful strides. Standing toe-to-toe, the commanding and intimidating vamp let his hot breath wash over Mike with each purposeful exhale. Ren’s eyes narrowed, his pupils dilated, glowed, and with his mouth open in a jeer, the fucker let his deadly teeth elongate in slow motion right before his very eyes. It was an obvious demonstration of how he controlled the speed of Mike’s death or the length of his life.

  Too bad for him Mike was motivated. And prepared.

  “I suggest you get the fuck out of my face if you want to keep that black heart pounding inside your chest cavity.”

  Pressed between them at just the precise angle with the honed tip digging into the thin shirt Ren wore, Mike now held his SOG SEAL Strike blade. The beauty was crafted with AUS-8 stainless steel and held a lethal partially serrated edge on either side, close to the handle. The salient teeth would tear flesh from bone with ease.

  Even a vamp’s.

  Ren’s smirk morphed into a mischievous grin, but he didn’t move an inch. In fact, he pressed in closer. So close, Mike knew he had to be drawing blood by now. “Next time you pull a knife on me, you’d better be prepared to use it, human.”

  “Don’t fool yourself for a fucking second. I was more than
prepared, vampire. Admit it. I caught you off guard, didn’t I?”

  Ren’s grin widened. “I think you and I will get along just fine, human.”

  That nonanswer was all the validation he needed.

  “Did I pass your fucking test?”

  He nodded sharply and took a step back, dropping his gaze to the knife Mike held steady. Several drops of bright red were streaking downward, coating the once-unblemished silver. “Impressive.”

  “I’m glad you approve,” he replied snidely. Wiping the blood on his denim-covered thighs, he easily sheathed the blade in the carrying case clipped to the back of his jeans. Ren wasn’t the first vamp he’d had to defend himself against. He sure as fuck wouldn’t be the last. Mike was so mired in their world, it was as if he’d always been a part of it. Like it was always his destiny.

  Now, he knew it was.

  “I want to marry Giselle,” he blurted as Ren dropped onto a stool at the island. Not smooth, Thatcher. Not fucking smooth at all.

  Ren didn’t say a thing, his face remaining unusually impassive. “Vampires don’t marry, human. They bond.”

  “And what’s the difference? It’s still forever, right?”

  The tilt of Ren’s lips was a mock if he ever saw one. He didn’t like it. “The difference, detective, is vampire bonding is forever. Literally death until you do part. It’s a lifetime commitment you’d better be sure you’re ready for, because once you exchange that all-important bodily fluid, your life will depend on hers. Your life will be tied to hers. Your life will be as long as hers.”

  Mike’s brows scrunched together.

  “Yeah. You heard me right.” Ren threw a look toward the kitchen entryway. Mike’s followed. There was no one there. “Would you like me to explain?”

  His head bobbed up and down. “Go on.”

  Ren spent the next few minutes telling him the ins and outs of vampire bonding. He dumbed it down into simplistic terms, even though Mike understood the dynamics behind it were much more complicated.

  It was an innocuous act, really. The sharing of blood.