Mackenzie McKade

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Mackenzie McKade Page 7

by Black Widow (lit)


  Marcellus’s shoulders firmed. Dominancy and strength shimmered around him. His presence became bigger than life as his easygoing demeanor vanished.

  “Enough!” His sharp warning made Titan stumble back into the crowd. There was no doubt in Tammy’s mind, or anyone else’s, who was in charge. “This woman has had her life ripped from her.” His voice dropped dangerously low. “I will kill the vampire who brings harm to my mate.”

  “Mate?” several whispered before they fell quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Surprise and alarm stole the color from their faces. In disbelief, they looked toward the individual standing to their left or right. Tammy could sense the undercurrent of discontent. But no one spoke or stepped forward.

  “Leave us now,” Marcellus ordered in a menacing tone that sent a shiver straight to Tammy’s soul.

  Every tendon and muscle in Roark’s body stretched taut when the crowd didn’t make a move to depart. His beast roared, preparing for the throng to attack.

  Suddenly the air in the room thickened. It was like sucking in water, making it difficult to breath. Omnipotent energy radiated off Donne as he raised his arms and released an ominous hiss. Roark could have sworn he heard the warning sizzle and snap through the room, forcing him to take an unconscious step backward.

  Donne’s eyes blazed the promise of death, dark and unmerciful. Someone gasped, and then all at once the vampires reacted. Some made haste for the door. Others like Titan vanished into thin air. If Tammy learned that trick they were in big trouble. The door slammed, shaking the hinges, as the last person to leave pulled it closed.

  Roark could smell the vampire’s fury. Donne trembled as he drew his arms to his sides. His mouth was drawn into a cruel line. His people had thought to disobey him. Something a leader could not afford.

  Heat waves shimmered around Donne as he narrowed his eyes on Roark. “Titan has had over twenty-four hours to work against us.” The vampire’s long fingers curled into fists. “I’ll need time to mend what he’s done. Prove to my people that Tamanen is not the resurrection of the Lamia—that after the heat runs its course she will not be dangerous.” He pivoted to face Tammy, successfully masking his fury behind a smile. She attempted to return the gesture, but the result didn’t make it to her eyes.

  The sheet had fallen to her waist, exposing her full breasts. Her breathing was erratic. She looked pale and drawn. Roark wasn’t sure whether the redness that rimmed her eyes was from fear or anger. He had sensed her battle to restrain her beast. She’d done well.

  Donne strolled to the bed, climbing upon it to take her into his arms. “Do not worry, my pet. Their bark is worse than their bite.”

  Roark doubted that, but he remained silent. Vampires were deadly. They lived by their own set of morals and beliefs, another reason why werewolves and vampires didn’t mix well together.

  “I must leave you.” Donne stroked her hair as he pressed his lips to her forehead. “There is much I must attend to. Lanier will keep you safe until I return.” He pinned his gaze on Roark. “Inside the nightstand drawer is something to assist you in my absence.” Roark was taken aback as the vampire touched his mind. Of course, he should have remembered they were now tied by blood. Donne’s concerned expression was easy to read. It wasn’t only Tammy he was worried about. Roark’s respect for the vampire grew.

  “We’ll be fine,” he assured Donne.

  “I will stake guards outside the door. Anton and Henri are trustworthy.” He kissed Tammy tenderly. “Call my name and I will return immediately.” Without another word, he released Tammy and pushed to his feet. “I will have something prepared for your dinner.” He blew her a kiss as he crossed the room and reached for the doorknob. “Until tomorrow night.” For only a moment he hesitated and then he yanked the door open and closed it behind him.

  “What day did you say it was?” Tammy sounded so forlorn. Sorrow rolled off her in waves. The wild look in her eyes was gone, instead she appeared tired.

  “Tuesday, no it must be Wednesday morning by now,” Roark responded, closing the distance between them. The mattress moaned as he crawled to her side. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her to him. She shivered.

  “My boss will be looking for me. I need to go home.”

  “You know you can’t leave here.”

  She appeared so lost as she looked up at him. “I’m a prisoner?”

  He brushed his palm up and down her arm, wanting to warm and reassure her at the same time. “Ahhh…baby, it’s not like that.”

  Her voice shook. “How is it then? Are you afraid to be alone with me?”

  “Afraid?” he huffed. “Of course, not.” Even as the words left his mouth he knew he wasn’t fooling her. The guards Donne had posted outside were for his benefit as much as for hers. Just a shout would have them running to his aide.

  “The cramps are coming back. I’m terrified what I might do to you.” She nibbled on her bottom lip. “I don’t understand what’s happening to me. It’s like there are two individuals inside me.”

  “Lie down.” He released her, moving out of the way before he guided her upon her back. “You are vampire and werewolf. It’s natural that you would struggle with your beast and that of the temptress within. We are sensual creatures.” His hand guided her head up so that their eyes met. He tried to smile reassuringly. “When the time is right they will merge and you won’t feel torn between the two of them. I know it’s confusing, but trust me—it’s normal.” As normal as this situation was going to get.

  For a second Roark hated Grady. He had taken so much from this woman.

  “If I were afraid would I being doing this?” He stroked his palms up her calves, tickling the sensitive area behind her knees. She jerked, a tight giggle revealed what he had already guessed—she was ticklish.

  “Your skin is like silk.” He caressed her thighs, parting her legs to move between them. Her sex, swollen and pink, glistened. What he would give to taste her, lick up and down her folds and then suck her clit into his mouth. His cock hardened, his balls firmed. Bad idea. That would put him at a disadvantage to protect himself.

  Her chest rose and fell rapidly. “Roark.” She raised her hips, enticingly. “I’m afraid.” Concern laced her troubled gaze, even as her body began to take over. The scent of her desire was like a magnet. Damn. She was a sexy. Her body writhed beneath him, rubbing against his erection as she released a staccato purr from deep within her throat.

  When he stroked a finger over her flesh she trembled. “Now. I need you, now.” She reached for him, but he grasped her wrists, pulling them above her head, anchoring them with one hand. Her parted lips begged to be kissed and he was willing to serve her. He bent over, capturing her mouth with his. She tasted of heat and passion as he stroked his tongue against hers. He drank her mewling cry.

  Some day he would explore her body, discover the places that drove her to the edge of madness, but he couldn’t chance it, not tonight, not while her heat was so new, and definitely not alone. The knowledge was disconcerting. He thought of Donne and his loins tightened. Angrily, he pushed the thought away as he reached over and slid open the nightstand drawer. Inside was a veritable toy chest—vibrators, dildos, butt plugs, whips, anything one needed to spice up their sex, including a set of handcuffs. He extracted the cuffs and held them up for her to see.

  “Would you feel better if I used these?” he asked, the tingle of excitement raced through him. Just the thought drew his balls close to his body. The ache between his thighs became a throb.

  “Yes. But hurry.”

  With a click the first shackle folded around her wrist. He looped the free end through the wrought iron headboard. When the second one snapped into place he sat back on his haunches. Donne’s kinky world held more allure than Roark wanted to admit. “You’re beautiful.” Seeing Tammy bound for his pleasure was beyond arousing—it was fucking hot.

  “Roark, please.” He didn’t wait for her to ask again as he moved between her legs. With a single th
rust of his hips, he parted her folds with his cock and sank into the warmth of her chamber. She was so tight, fitting him perfectly, it stole his breath.

  Tammy shuddered beneath him. Her body clamped down on him, as if starving for what he offered. He fucked her slow, with long drawn-out strokes, only to drive inside her over and over again. Her breasts swayed sensually, her peaks too hard to resist. He cradled one in his hand and then leaned forward.

  “Mmmm…” He hummed around the nipple he’d sucked into his mouth. She arched into his touch, her eyelashes crescents against her cheeks. As he fondled her globe, he teased the peak with his tongue and teeth. “You taste like heaven.”

  A light sheen of perspiration made the rocking of their bodies glide in harmony. She cried out his name. The moment was almost poignant, piercing his heart. He had waited for someone like her all his life.

  Yet he couldn’t help wondering how he could fall so hard for a woman he had only known for mere days? The time they had spent together was not getting to know her—her dreams—her wants and desires. His beast had recognized her from the beginning. The only irony was that he shared her with the leader of the vampires.

  Tammy bucked beneath him. “I need to touch you.” She yanked her wrists, scraping her bindings against the iron. Her body writhed and shuddered. He scented her arousal. A growl rumbled in her throat as she locked her ankles around his hips driving him deeper. Her mouth parted on a gasp. Sharp white fangs peered from between her lips. Beneath her shuttered eyelids the glow of hunger raged in her eyes. “Mon prince.” The sultriness in her voice thickened. “Release me and I will make love to you like no other woman has done before.” Her words were flames flickering across his skin. The temptress had returned.

  Roark fought the urge to lean forward, bare his neck, and give in to what she wanted. He had never felt anything as seductive as bloodletting while he made love to her. The feel of her mouth on his skin, the piercing sting as her teeth penetrated his flesh, and the mind-blowing suction of her mouth, her body—

  The elbow he had been propped on gave. The jerky movement brought him chest to chest with Tammy. Her warm breath caressed his neck.

  “Mmmm…” she moaned. “Release me so that I may taste you.”

  He yanked back, nearly rolling off the bed. What the hell was he thinking?

  Surprise and disappointment flittered across her face. “Please. I need to touch you.” Her tongue slid sensually between her lips. “Release me. Libérez-moi,” she repeated in French.

  Damn. She was sexy. He wanted what she offered almost as much as the next breath he sucked in between clenched teeth. His self-control wavered as he refocused his attention off the pounding of his heart, the ache between his thighs, and the throb that appeared in his neck where her signature mark lay.

  Roark’s breathing was labored, raspy, as he leaned into her, driving deeper into her core. At least he could satisfy one of her needs. He pushed his hand between their bodies and found her engorged clit, wet and ready. A single pinch had her whimpering, her hips rising off the bed. In slow, tantalizing strokes he circled the bundle of nerves, watching her pupils dilate, her breaths becoming quick and shallow pants. She was exquisite in the throes of passion. He wanted to hear his name on her lips as her body became his.

  Roark began to fuck her hard and fast. His finger took on the same pace. He needed to kiss her, capture the small cries she released, but he couldn’t chance getting any closer. When their gazes locked he saw something powerful, alluring, in the shimmering glow of her eyes. It was mesmerizing as she smoothed her heated vision across his skin as if her hands caressed him, urging him closer. He closed his eyes, breaking the connection. Her pussy clamped down on him and she shattered, screaming his name.

  A fireball exploded down his shaft. It shook him from head to toe, hot sensations splintering in all directions as his seed released and bathed the walls of her sex. Her chamber rippled around him, squeezing and sucking his cock into her warmth. The steady pulse milked him, turned him inside-out. By the grace of God he resisted giving in to her and pressing his throat to her mouth.

  They were both breathing hard in the aftermath of their orgasms. He wanted to hold her close, but the red haze in her eyes made him keep his distance. Her body was satisfied, but her hunger remained.

  As he moved from atop her, she snapped. The high-pitch wail she released slithered up his backbone. In a fury he couldn’t have ever imagined, she began to fight her bindings. Iron skidded across iron. She yanked, the handcuffs biting into her skin, but that didn’t stop her. When he heard the creak as the headboard gave he moved closer, wanting to comfort her. His heart ached for what she was going through.

  “Tammy. Baby, please.” He tried to touch her leg, but she kicked out at him, pulling herself into a tight ball before turning away from him. “Leave me.” Her command caught somewhere between a growl and a cry.

  Shit. Roark didn’t know what to do. His hand hovered over her shoulder. He wanted to console her, but that just might be her breaking point and he didn’t know whether the bed could contain her.

  A knock on the door made her head snap up. Her upper lip curled into a snarl, baring her teeth as she released a slow, tense hiss. “Don’t let anyone come in here.” The desperation in her voice was evidence that she fought her hunger. Tears raced down her face.

  Roark moved quickly off the bed and toward the door. It wedged open as he caught the doorknob. “Don’t come in here,” he warned as he held the door partially ajar.

  A black woman with a turban wrapped around her head and dressed in a flowing white gown stood before him holding a tray, several robes hung in the bend of her arm. Roark could smell the meaty aroma of steak beneath the silver dome. Two glasses balanced on the platter.

  The female vampire appeared a little distraught as two guards moved up beside her. “The glass on the right is hers.” She said the last word with distain. “My master said to make sure she gets it.” She pushed the tray into his arms, and then the robes.

  The glasses teetered, the liquid nearly sloshing over the side as he tossed the robes over his shoulder and gripped the tray firmly in both hands. “Thank you.” But his appreciation was lost to the vampire making quick strides in the opposite direction. He glanced at the guards, their expressions unreadable, but he could smell the pungent scent of their unease.

  When he closed the door, Tammy swung her head around to face him. “Get out of here. Now.” Her eyes glowed a haunting red. Her breathing was labored. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold on.” The cry in her voice made his chest tighten. Once again, he cursed Grady for what he had imposed upon Tammy.

  He crossed the room, set the tray on the small table in the corner and picked up her glass with the heavy metallic scent of blood. He padded across the marble floor, careful not to spill a drop.

  Tammy was shaking like an alcoholic under withdrawals. Her expression distorted as he approached. Her fingers curled into fists. The closer he came the more agitated she became, making whimpering sounds as her fingers grasped thin air.

  “Drink this.” He pressed the crystal to her lips and tipped the glass before she could resist him.

  “Oh God.” There was desperation in her cry. As he drew the cup away, she gasped, “More.” Her body shook. He was afraid she might be going into shock. She took another sip and an expression of ecstasy softened her face. “Yes.” He tilted the chalice and she chugged the remaining liquid. When she was through, he set the glass on the nightstand. If the situation wasn’t so volatile he would have laughed. She had what he had heard referred to as a milk mustache, but red not white. As her eyelids closed, her tongue slid over her top lip. She appeared calm, appeased, at least for the moment

  Chapter Eight

  Tammy leaned her head against the now-bent wrought iron of the headboard. She’d almost lost it again. If Roark hadn’t handcuffed her to the bed would she have killed him? Drank every ounce of his precious blood? She felt cold to the bone, a bro
ken woman, and her wrists chaffed beneath the manacles. There was no way she could go on like this. It was only a matter of time before she killed someone. She couldn’t live with herself if that happened. The thought of it being Roark or Marcellus made her tremble harder.

  Gentle fingertips brushed her cheek, but how? Roark stood beside the bed watching her.

  “You did well, my pet. Do not chastise yourself.” Tammy’s eyes widened as Marcellus’s voice stroked her mind. Her gaze darted to Roark. “Did you hear that?”

  “Yes. It’s the blood-bond that allows him to speak to us telepathically.” Roark shook his head. “Damn vampire. I’ll never be rid of him now.”

  Marcellus’s laughter was like a caress. “You did not think that I would leave you two completely alone?”

  “We had hoped,” Roark mumbled beneath his breath.

  “I’m glad I was able to dash that reckless thought. Eat before your dinner gets cold. I will return when I can.”

 

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