Mackenzie McKade

Home > Other > Mackenzie McKade > Page 6
Mackenzie McKade Page 6

by Black Widow (lit)


  Before Roark could say, “Hell no,” Tammy’s body contracted around him. She uttered a shrill sound of agony, stolen from the intensity of the spasm clenching and releasing.

  As Roark began to push in and out of her pussy, Donne wrapped his lips around her clit again, sucking the nub deep into his mouth. He released her and flicked his tongue over the sensitive flesh.

  Roark growled. “Donne.”

  Tammy’s gaze had fallen once again to where their bodies joined. With every lick across her swollen clit, Donne also ran his tongue up and down Roark’s firm cock. When the vampire sucked one of Roark’s testicles into his mouth, gently applying pressure, Roark nearly lost it.

  Every muscle in his body drew taut, ached under the pressure to ignore Donne. He needed to stay focused—his mind on helping Tammy. He squeezed his eyes closed, stars bursting in the darkness, as his toes curled with the throbbing in his groin.

  Again, Donne’s tongue bathed Roark’s cock as it slid in and out between Tammy’s fold. The combination of being fucked and licked at the same time was driving him friggin’ crazy. And now the damn vampire seemed more interested in pleasuring him than the woman pounding her body frantically against Roark’s hips.

  He tried to breathe, but it was useless. He strained to hold on—fought to draw out the storm building inside him. Fuck. At this rate Roark would be the first to climax. After he had the orgasm of a lifetime—he’d kill Donne.

  But not now. He was too engulfed in sensations to do anything other than feel as he gave in and let the fiery orgasm wash over him.

  Red-hot flames consumed him. With a sudden jerk, his head rose toward the ceiling and he released a strangled howl. He could feel his beast moving beneath his skin, begging to be freed, needing to throw Tammy on her belly and enter her from behind—take her in the most dominate fashion between a man and woman or animal.

  Roark was lost somewhere between heaven and hell when Donne cried out.

  Tammy snarled, her fingers woven tightly in the vampire’s waist-length hair as she yanked him up and against her mouth. Before Roark knew what was happening, her fangs pierced Donne’s throat.

  Her body clamped down on Roark’s spent cock as she came violently. The tautness upon Donne’s face said he followed her down the same path of fulfillment. But the growls and animalistic sounds pushing from Tammy’s mouth revealed she had once again lost control.

  Ecstasy swam in Donne’s eyes as he willingly let her rob him of life. Roark knew he had to stop her and now.

  His hands were shaking as he wrapped his fingers around her neck and applied pressure.

  With a gasp, she tore her mouth from Donne’s neck. Fury filled her eyes as she glared at Roark. He could smell the bitter scent upon her skin. Like a rabid animal, she snarled and growled, snapping her teeth together rapidly. For a moment, he was afraid the change would engulf her. Instead, she twisted around and attacked.

  For a woman, she was amazingly strong. The impact knocked both of them off the bed and onto the cold marble floor. As they wrestled, he yelled, “Tammy. Stop.”

  Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he dodged her teeth. With a thought, he let the change come over him. Tendons popped and bones snapped as his body morphed from man to wolf.

  A shiver raced across his thick coat as he faced her. His ears lay flat upon his head.

  The sight froze Tammy, but did exactly what he had expected, beckon her beast. A helpless expression stole the color from her face. He saw fear in her eyes as hair eased from her pores, fingers curling as claws appeared. The bones in her mouth popped, elongating into a muzzle, while the rest of her body twisted and transformed. In seconds the prettiest blonde bitch Roark had ever seen appeared before him.

  He stood erect on all four legs, his tail aloft, and the points of his ears up and forward. His upper lip rose in a snarl, showing teeth to establish dominancy over her.

  She mimicked his stance, taunting him as she moved her bushy tail to the side to entice him.

  With a leap, he knocked her off her feet. His powerful jaws locked and pulsated around her neck, threatening.

  A whimper came from her parted muzzle. Her ears lay docilely against her head as she rolled upon her back. The dominance hierarchy in their relationship had been established.

  Roark was basking in his triumphant when he remembered Donne lying crumpled upon the bed. A warning growl rose from Roark’s diaphragm. He nipped Tammy lightly, sending her a mental command to remain still. Quickly, he changed back into human form and moved to the vampire’s side.

  “Too much—blood loss.” Donne’s voice was weak. “I need to feed.”

  This was a helluva dilemma. Donne needed blood. He couldn’t leave him in the same room as Tammy, because he had no idea what would happen. Tammy couldn’t be the donor because it would throw her back into a sexual frenzy. That left only one other person.

  With a heavy sigh, Roark said, “You know, Donne, I should let you die for that earlier exhibition.”

  A small smile pushed to Donne’s thinning lips. “Admit it. You enjoyed my attention.”

  “Fucking bloodsucker.” Roark extended his arm to Donne. “Drink.”

  “Are you sure?” Donne asked.

  “Wipe that grin off your face and do it before I change mind,” Roark grumbled.

  The moment Donne’s canines broke skin a rush of heat flowed through Roark’s veins. His semi-hard cock lengthened. It took everything he had not to come—not to admit that vampire had aroused him yet again.

  Donne raised a haughty brow as he continued to suck. Each pull felt directly attached to Roark’s unfaithful cock, making it jerk again and again. He felt the vampire’s smile firm against his arm.

  “Fuck you,” Roark rumbled.

  Donne’s tongue stroke once, twice over the wound, closing it. “It would be my pleasure,” he said, licking his lips.

  They heard a strangled gasp and pulled their attention to the direction it came from. Tammy stood before them. All color drained from her face. Her cute little chin trembled. She was once again in human form. She shook uncontrollably.

  “I’m not hallucinating, am I?”

  Marcellus couldn’t stand the helplessness in her voice. He pushed to his feet and crossed the room taking her into his arms. She trembled and he pulled her closer feeling the chill that swept over her body. Tamanen had no idea the power she possessed and he couldn’t wait to show her. She could control the temperature of her body as well as a million other things. The elements were at her beckon call. That is if the vampire within was strong.

  It was at that moment he recognized his own strength had increased. Lanier’s blood transfusion had invigorated him. The lycanthrope was indeed a powerful man. His essence surging through Marcellus’s veins would make the bond between them stronger.

  “No, my pet, you are not hallucinating,” he whispered against her ear. “There are things in this world the human race isn’t ready for.” He doubted that even she was ready for the life that lay ahead of her. She looked at him with such disbelief. Marcellus couldn’t stand to know she hurt. He escorted her back to the bed. The mattress squeaked as Lanier scooted over making room for them.

  “I can’t believe—” She choked on the words unable to complete the sentence. She swallowed hard and her chin quivered. “How? Why me?”

  “I’m afraid that’s my fault,” Lanier readily took responsibility for his pack-mate’s actions. “The man—wolf who attacked you was my friend.”

  “Friend? I don’t understand,” she said.

  “Several weeks ago, Grady returned home beaten, a broken man. He chose not to confide in me regarding the details, but I knew he wasn’t stable.” Lanier’s features were unreadable as he explained what he knew of the event. “I didn’t encourage him. I thought he just needed time to heal.” When his backbone straightened, a flicker of regret flashed in his eyes. “I was wrong. This is my fault.” He reached out and placed his hand on her bare thigh. “I’ll do whatever is n
ecessary to make this up to you.”

  Silent tears rolled down Tamanen’s cheeks. Blinking several times, she attempted to dash them away, and then she swatted at them with both hands. “Why me?”

  “I don’t know, baby.” Lanier’s voice softened.

  Marcellus smoothed his palms up her arms resting them on her shoulders. “Wrong place—wrong time.” He shrugged. “We’ll never know why he chose you.” He inhaled her feminine scent. “Perhaps even he could sense that you were special.”

  “Special?” Her eyes narrowed on Marcellus. “He almost killed me.”

  “But he didn’t.” He reclined against the headboard.

  “Maybe he should have.” She wiped her tears away.

  “Don’t say that,” Lanier stated adamantly. “Like Donne said, you are special. Half lycanthrope and half vampire, you are the fulfillment of a legend.”

  Of course Lanier conveniently forgot to tell her that the legends made her out to be a monster. Nor did he tell her that neither of them knew just how dangerous she might be to all mankind. Marcellus brushed the thought away.

  Right now all he wanted was to ease her discomfort. Help her to accept what had become her fate. There was a world out there she had no idea existed. He wanted to be the one who showed it to her. And, he wanted to get to know the woman who had become his mate. Perhaps he might also discover what made Lanier tick. He had already discovered what excited the wolf. When his blood had flowed into Marcellus’s veins he had felt Lanier’s arousal, known the bond between them would be strong. But it had been so much more. A smile slipped across Marcellus’s face, and then faltered when a shudder raced through her.

  Tamanen looked so lost—so unhappy. He wanted to take her into his arms, tell her everything would be fine, but one thing he refused to do was lie to her. Neither he nor Lanier had any idea what the future held.

  One thing he knew—their path would not be easy.

  Chapter Seven

  There was no need for lights. Tammy’s new predicament allowed her to see clearly in the darkened bedroom. It was early morning. She was a werewolf—or lycanthrope—as Roark had called her. Oh and how could she forget the twist in this situation—she was also a vampire. Her life had officially become a drug-induced hallucination. Too much proof existed for her to continue to hold on to her disbelief. Things like this—werewolves and vampires—didn’t exist outside television. She wasn’t just trapped in a nightmare. Hell no. She was actually living it.

  Like in the movies, she was a freak of nature—even worse, because she didn’t belong in either the lycanthropes’ or the undead’s world. She didn’t need them to tell her their people would shun her. As in the human society, she was sure prejudice was alive and well in their realm.

  Tammy felt numb as Marcellus finished the story of how she came to be. Mentally exhausted, she leaned back into his hands as he rubbed her knotted shoulders. Like three kids at a pajama party, without their pajamas, they sat naked on the bed, casually talking as if things like this happened every day.

  A new set of taut muscles twisted, joining the others. “So are you saying that I’m dangerous?” Marcellus’s fingertips danced over the newfound tightness. Patches of memory came back to her. Roark saying something about letting her die, while Marcellus called her an abomination. Their opinions had changed. Now they thought she was unique, special?

  Who were these men trying to fool? Her—or themselves?

  “What I’m attempting to explain is the heat cycle and blood lust has broken down your control.” Roark’s blank face said he was trying too hard to appear unconcerned about her plight.

  Tammy’s pulse sped. “And my desire not to eat both of you miraculously returns when the cycle has been completed?”

  “Well…” Marcellus paused. His usual sexy voice seemed to be lacking something. “We don’t know for sure.”

  Oh God. This just keeps getting better. “And what about sunlight?” A host of other questions rose in her mind.

  Silver bullets?

  Wooden stakes?

  Coffins?

  She shivered. No way could she lie in a casket.

  Roark turned, avoiding eye contact. “We’re not sure about that either.”

  “I’ll live in the dark for the rest of my life?” Her tone rose to a strained shrill. “And for how long?”

  “You’re immortal,” Marcellus explained.

  Tammy’s blood pressure shot up. Her heart pounded like a war drum. “I could be stuck like this forever?” Her question went unanswered. She shook her head. “Well, boys, it sounds like you’re not sure about a lot of things.”

  Roark placed a hand on her thigh. Their gazes met. “You’re my mate. I’ll protect you.”

  “Now doesn’t that just make everything peachy-keen?” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. “Will you also make sure I don’t kill you next time I get a heat-attack?”

  “That’s why I’m here.” Marcellus’s attempt at humor fell short.

  She shot a hot glance over her shoulder. “Oh yeah, you’re doing a great job. Weren’t you the last man I attacked?”

  Silence.

  “Exactly.” Tammy turned back around and tried to grasp on to her control that kept trying to evade her. She dragged in a breath. “I don’t know what to do.” Then she began to ramble. “I’ve never hurt a soul. I’m good to children, the elderly, dogs and cats. I donate to United Way. Drop change in the Salvation Army’s bell ringer’s pot. The last time I was at the store I bought a turkey and a gift for a family in need.” She spoke more to herself than the others.

  “I’ll take care of everything,” Roark promised.

  Just like a man. She shrugged away from Marcellus’s hands. “What? You’ll fuck me every time my eyes open?” Okay. Maybe that was a little harsh, but she was frightened.

  “I’ll help,” Marcellus added with a chuckle. He reached out to touch her, but she slapped his hand away. She doubted anyone had ever done that to him because he raised his brows and leveled his gaze upon her. Who cared? What did she have to lose—her life? That wasn’t such a big loss. If she thought she was lonely before, she just took a huge step off the cliff of isolation. Still, there had to be a bright side to all this. If vampires and werewolves were real, perhaps Santa Claus was too. Maybe he could take her to the Island of Misfits. Oh God. She was losing it.

  Roark’s Adam’s apple slid up and down his throat as he swallowed, hard. “With each mating you become more lucid and aware of what you’re doing. We just need time.”

  “Time?” She released a burst of disbelief. “Why me? Why did you save me?” She confronted Marcellus with a cry in her voice. “Why couldn’t you let me die?”

  “I wanted you.” He admitted it without shame.

  Tammy closed her eyes. Tears burn hot against her lids, but didn’t fall. Dammit. She wouldn’t cry. What was she going to do?

  Rapid pounding jerked their attention to the door. When it burst opened, she startled. A group of angry-looking men and women pinned their glares on Tammy.

  “Time’s up,” Marcellus muttered.

  A tall, slender man stepped from the crowd. “The black widow is still alive.” He clutched his neck with his hand.

  Roark immediately sprang from the bed. A menacing growl rumbled. His beast visibly rippled beneath his skin causing some of the vampires to gasp and move backward. But more importantly, her beast answered his, making her antsy.

  The intruders’ animosity slithered up Tammy’s back. She pulled the sheet over her nakedness like a shield.

  She mates—then kills. That’s what these people think of me—and they’re right.

  Guilt clawed at her very soul.

  Calmly, Marcellus rose to step next to Roark, both of them standing sentry before her. Neither appeared concerned about their state of undress as they faced the mob.

  “She is not your concern, Titan,” Marcellus addressed the vampire glaring at her with menace.

  The blond-haired man huffed. “She nearl
y killed Darta and me.” He removed his hand from his throat to reveal scarred tissue that had yet to heal, which meant the damage had been substantial.

  Tammy cupped her mouth. Oh my God. I did that?

  “She is an abomination,” Titan snarled between bared teeth. “You promised that the Lamia would be destroyed.”

  Destroyed? Tammy bit her bottom lip to still the tremor overtaking her. This man wanted her dead and maybe he was right. Her skin began to itch as her fingernails curled into long black claws. Instinctively, Tammy knew she would fight to live. Even now her inner beast grew anxious, ready for battle.

 

‹ Prev