Mackenzie McKade

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Mackenzie McKade Page 5

by Black Widow (lit)


  “Staying warm, as you were.” Donne palmed her firm breast. She arched, leaning into his hand. “Is she not the perfect bed partner? Even in slumber her body is responsive.”

  Her nipples were taut buds of delight. She moaned. Her lips parted on a gasp as her eyelids rose, revealing beautiful blue eyes.

  Chapter Five

  Through the curtain of darkness surrounding Tammy, her sight began to focus on a set of haunting eyes. They were so intense, magnetic, pulling her into their magic. As if she had infrared vision, a handsome face and hard, muscled body materialized to go with those eyes. For a moment, she lingered on the sexual heat they emanated.

  The dream continues, she rationalized. It was the only logical reason she didn’t lunge from the bed she was lying upon and run screaming from the room.

  Naked, Roark sat beside her, his cock jutted from the nest of hair between his thighs. She ached to touch him—feel him inside her. What the hell was she thinking? There had to be a legitimate explanation why her body called to his. It was ridiculous, but he made her feel as if they belonged together, like two halves of a whole. Of course, there was another part of her that screamed for Marcellus’s touch. This was crazy.

  “Tell me I’m dreaming.” Her smoky voice turned quickly into a breathy groan when her belly clenched tight. Blades of sensation splintered in all directions.

  No. Not again.

  She blinked, willing herself to wake. This had to be a dream. She couldn’t go through the pain she had experienced before. When her eyelids rose, Roark still remained and so did the contractions.

  “I wish I could, baby.” Regret rang in his voice.

  Another pang shot through Tammy. She curled into a ball, holding her knees against her chest. Pictures flashed before her eyes.

  Wolves.

  Blood.

  Vampires.

  Sex.

  Not that she was complaining about the dream man before her, but she couldn’t help but associate him with pain like the currents tightening her belly. Of course, sex usually followed. Yet some of her remembrances were violent. In her nightmarish state she had even imagined she had drunk his blood. Just the thought increased her heartbeat and another spasm bore down upon her. But it wasn’t the pain that had her tied up in knots. She pinned her gaze to his throat. The blue vein throbbed invitingly, awakening her taste buds. Mouth salivating, she licked her lips.

  Oh shit! Her mind screamed out in protest, trying to hold on to whatever saneness remained, but her body and the hunger gnawing at her stomach didn’t agree, forcing the thought from her head. Heat simmered across her skin. She had never craved anything like she did this man or his blood. “Venez à moi, mon prince.” Again with the sexy voice she didn’t recognize. Not to mention her body sliding against the length that spooned her from behind, each movement carnal and lustful. She patted the area next to her to entice the Adonis closer. Beneath her hand she felt the cool satin sheets. A strong palm smoothed down her ribcage, dipping along her waist and down her thigh. Slow and sensual, he retraced his path until he cupped and gently caressed her breast again.

  Tammy glanced over her shoulder meeting the most charming smile she’d ever seen. The man who introduced himself as Marcellus was drop-dead gorgeous. Slowly and thoroughly, she scanned his length. He pressed his erection against her ass and a whimper slipped from between her lips. A chortle met her cry.

  He cuddled up to her back, continuing to stroke her breast, stoking the fire inside her, while Roark looked at her as if someone had just rung the dinner bell.

  His hungry stare warmed her blood, but intensified the crazy things going on inside her. Nothing made sense, except that she wanted—no needed to taste him.

  Grasping onto a little sanity, she asked, “Where am I?”

  Before either man answered, her control slipped, again. She leaned willingly into the hand that kneaded her breast, rolling her nipple between his fingers. Sharp, penetrating sensations shot through her heavy globes.

  Why wasn’t she terrified?

  Instead, her body felt foreign as she wiggled her ass against the firmness behind her. She couldn’t help herself. His cock was wedged between her thighs and pressed so close to her sex she could angle her hips and take him within her body.

  He bowed his head, a lock of hair falling across his forehead. “You are a guest in my home.” He pinched her nipple.

  “How did I get here?” she asked, even though she bathed in the ecstasy washing through her body.

  “So beautiful,” Marcellus whispered in her ear. “I brought you here, Tamanen.” His thumb rubbed back and forth over her sensitive nub sending heat waves to shimmer across her skin. She turned to look at Roark.

  He didn’t speak, but she heard him all the same. A mournful howl filled her head. His suntanned skin rippled over hard muscle causing a tickling sensation to sweep over her arms. She needed to rub against him—to fuck him.

  “Are you real?” She glanced between the men.

  A twinkle sparked in Marcellus’s eyes, while concern burned in the depths of Roark’s.

  A brush of his hand, he pushed his fingers through his hair. “Yes. We’re real.” Roark’s voice released a flood of moisture between her thighs. Her pulse jumped. “Do you remember anything about last night?” he asked.

  “Last night?” Time seemed elusive to her. “What day is it?”

  “Tuesday evening” he answered. “You slept throughout the day.”

  “I remember you.” How could she forget someone who set her body in such turmoil? Before she glanced over her shoulder to say, “And you,” intense pain sliced low in her belly. A groan pushed from her diaphragm. “Something’s wrong with me.” She drew her knees to her chest and fought to catch the breath that squeezed from her lungs. “I hurt.”

  Roark moved closer and slipped his hand between her folded body to begin massaging her mid-section. “You’re in heat.”

  Tammy looked up at him. Disbelief surfaced in a huff. “If that’s a pick-up line, you’ve got to do better.” Still, his touch was magical as the tightness subsided.

  He hesitated before extracting his hand. A frown creased his forehead as if troubled. Immediately a cramp resulted, and then another, followed by another. In seconds, her body felt like a bundle of nerves.

  As she reached for him, he turned her, guiding her on his lap facing away from him, her back to his chest. “Easy baby,” he said.

  She wanted him in her arms, to fuck him and take his blood as she climaxed. “I need to touch you. Taste you.”

  “No. It’s safer this way.”

  Something close to a hum vibrated in her throat. “Please.” She began to rub her ass across the bulge beneath her that lengthened with each caress.

  Yes. That’s what she really wanted. She raised her hips, moved so his erection stood firm and hard between her thighs and nestled against her moist folds.

  Her fingers folded around his thickness. He groaned. A triumphant smile slid across her face.

  Marcellus lay on his side, head resting on his palm, watching them with a half-grin. A pearl of pre-come eased from the slit at the swollen head of his cock. Her mouth watered. She wanted to taste him. Feel him at the back of her throat, while Roark’s cock filled her pussy.

  Her tongue made a seductive path along her bottom lip, tempting.

  His smile grew wider, while hers faded. Her tongue made another swipe, coming into connect with long, sharp canines that pressed into her lip.

  Fangs?

  She was contemplating the possibility when her hand lost its grip on Roark’s erection. Her gaze fell to her hands.

  Panic iced her veins. Her fingernails were sharp black claws slowly curling as they lengthened. Thud. Her heart crashed against her breastbone, as hair pushed from her pores.

  “Oh God.” The words were garble. Her mouth twitched, as she felt a pull against her jaw and the snap of bone. “Help me.”

  “Fight it, Tammy. Fight the change,” Roark growled.


  Marcellus’s eyes widened. But he didn’t say a word, nor did he approach them.

  Every place on her body itched as soft down swept across her skin. The room felt too small. Her chest constricted. Raw fear choked her.

  Mangled thoughts were wild and frightening. Flashes of her fangs buried into the throat of one man, while another fucked her. Then popping tendons and breaking bones, both men beneath her snapping jaws. Her fur matted in their blood.

  Fur?

  Tammy freaked. Her arms and legs flailed. She tried to jerk away from Roark, but he held her tightly against him.

  She screamed—the bloodcurdling cry torn from her throat.

  Her vision blurred as tears filled her eyes. Like a river they raced down her cheeks.

  “Ahhh…baby. Stop or you’ll hurt yourself.” When she didn’t immediately obey she felt Roark’s teeth pierce her shoulder. Instinctively, she knew it was an act of dominance to still her fight, but it didn’t slow the racing of her heart.

  When he released his bite, he began licking the wound with long, wet strokes. His actions should have disgusted her. Instead they sent electricity shooting through her. It was turning her on.

  “Close your eyes and slow your breathing. Think of me. Our bodies—human bodies—mating.” His voice was a whisper against her ear. “I can’t wait to taste you, lap the cream between your legs.”

  Her eyes squeezed shut. No matter what she tried, her breaths were short, quick pants. She could feel the hair lengthening on her arms—her legs.

  “Breathe, Tammy,” he encouraged.

  She tried to focus on his voice, his earthy masculine scent, and his touch. Fingertips slid across her abdomen, threading through the curly patch of hair to settle between her thighs.

  She trembled as he stroked her folds, spreading them wide so the air in the room caressed her intimately.

  “I bet you taste like honey on a warm summer night.” Roark nipped her ear playfully. His sexy words made her hotter, eased the itch that covered every inch of her body.

  “Yes. Fuck me,” she whimpered, squirming against his body. “Fuck me, now.” Something moved beneath her skin, sexy and decadent. Yet something wild and untamed existed too. What the hell had she become?

  His breath tickled her neck. “You must learn to subdue the need for immediate gratification.” His voice dropped an octave turning gravelly. “We are animals by nature, but we live in the human world. Control and patience is a virtue you must obtain.”

  “I don’t understand,” she cried, as a spasm rippled throughout her. Damn. That one felt good.

  “I think you do.” His fingertips circled her clit, causing a burn in her belly. “The world as you knew it is gone. You feel the need to change, to mate, to hunt and run free. Let your instincts guide you.”

  She moaned as he slid a finger deep inside her wet, aching channel. With a slow, steady rhythm he began to finger fuck her.

  Her head lolled back against his shoulder. “Yes. But why?” Tammy’s hips rose to meet each thrust of his finger.

  “You are no longer human—you are immortal.” Marcellus’s French accent made her eyelids fly open. She jerked upright echoing his last word. “Immortal? A vampire? But he said—” Nothing made sense. Clearly she wasn’t human any more. What exactly was she?

  Marcellus still lounged upon the bed. His lids half shuddered, his nostrils flared as he watched her. She could smell his lust—his hunger. Hear blood rushing through his veins. Nectar she craved to taste.

  With the lithe movements of a predator, he crawled across the bed toward them. The easygoing veneer he wore was a pretense. Sexy and dangerous—most definitely dangerous. It screamed from every one of his pores.

  When he opened his mouth to speak again she swore she saw fangs. Honest to God fangs like her own. “My pet, you will never die or grow old.”

  His palms slid up her legs, to settle on her thighs. His finger joined Roark’s thrusting in and out of her pussy.

  These men were friggin’ crazy. But damn! They knew their way around a woman’s body. She’d worry about the other stuff later.

  Chapter Six

  Tammy was hot, burning in Roark’s arms as he and Donne pumped their fingers in and out of her moist, swollen folds. She cried out. Long fingernails, now human, dug into his outstretched legs as he held her in his lap, her back against his chest. Their sitting position on the bed was the safest he could think of to control the situation. He could pleasure her, ease her heat-induced spasms, without the fear of falling beneath her seduction and allowing her to take his blood. No matter how he longed to do just that.

  Donne lay casually on his stomach between their splayed legs. He inhaled, the rapture on his face said he enjoyed the perfume of her desire. Roark watched the vampire closely, uneasy with his proximity to his erect cock.

  The discussion of her immortality seemed to be forgotten in the moment. Soon she would believe. She had no alternative.

  “Fuck me.” Her voice was pleading. When that didn’t work she quickly changed her tactics, crying out, “I hurt. Please help me.”

  Dammit. Roark knew he should deny her, make her wait longer before satisfying her. Against his better judgment, he extracted his finger from her heat and knocked Donne’s hand away.

  “What the hell—” Roark brushed off Donne’s disgruntled outburst as he grasped Tammy’s hips, raising and angling her so his rock-hard erection entered her pussy.

  A sigh of ecstasy pushed from her lips. He knew that his fullness inside of her would immediately ease her cramps, at least for awhile.

  “You’re so tight and slick.” Covered in her liquid heat, he easily pushed deeper. Her inner muscles latched on to him, squeezing. He ground his teeth and held her motionless while he breathed, quieting the raging need being inside her had created.

  If their relationship was going to work, he had to establish some semblance of control. As a wolf or a man, he could command her by dominance and satisfy her needs until the heat cycle passed. But her overpowering blood lust could kill him, not to mention others in the pack, if it got out of hand. Above all, he had to protect his people.

  When Donne dipped his head to taste her juices, she arched, going wild in Roark’s arms. He tried to ignore Donne’s warm breath caressing his cock and the whisper of the vampire’s silky hair tickling his balls and thighs. Still, his testicles drew taut against his body.

  “Let me go. I need to touch you.” She tried to squirm, to thrust her hips against his erection and Donne’s mouth. Roark held her stationary. She had to learn control. Besides if he moved he’d explode. “You’re killing me,” she whimpered.

  A grin touched the corner of his mouth. He knew exactly what she was going through, because waiting for fulfillment was tormenting the hell out of him. Visions of throwing her to her belly, fucking her from behind, crossed before his eyes. “You love it, don’t you, baby?”

  She threw back her head, striking his shoulder. “Yes. God, yes.”

  When Roark felt the warm, wet brush of Donne’s tongue at the base of his cock, swirling around his balls, sensation shattered through his groin. What was meant as a threatening growl turned into a moan. There was no way in hell he would reveal that Donne had affected him, even as a shiver shook him.

  Donne tilted his head and through dark lashes he shot Roark a devilish grin. The vampire’s tongue flicked across Tammy’s clit, causing her to writhe against Roark, but her eyes were pinned to where their bodies came together. Donne playfully wagged his tongue several times as he held Roark’s glare with a lustful one of his own.

  “Don’t do it, Donne,” Roark warned, even as the heat in his body soared. Like Tammy, he felt the need to thrust, but he steeled his jaw and remained composed. As composed as a man could be perched on the edge of insanity. Only his fingertips sinking deeper into her hips gave him away.

  “Yes. Do it again,” Tammy cooed. Her silky voice deepened. “I want to see him suck your cock.”

  Her words rele
ased a penetrating burn down Roark’s shaft. Holy shit! He ground his teeth together, his fangs emerging so quickly they pricked his bottom lip. Two beads of blood formed on his bottom lip. Damn. Damn. Damn. He licked the drops away, hopefully before she noticed or smelled the metallic scent. He felt trapped, unable to move except for the tremor that assailed him.

  The temptress inside her must have felt him shudder, because she laughed. Not a high-pitched giggle, but a low, sexy sound that was nearly his undoing. “Take Roark to the back of your throat, drink as he comes.”

  Her fluids released with a warm rush, anointing Roark. Her breaths were becoming choppy pants. From the gleam in her eyes when she glanced back at him, she was turned on by the thought of Donne going down on him.

 

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