Into the Darkness

Home > Romance > Into the Darkness > Page 6
Into the Darkness Page 6

by Delilah Devlin


  “You sure you’re not too sore?” he said, while he stifled a groan of protest.

  “Shut up,” she said, gritting her teeth. “I can take this. I can take you.”

  Releasing her hips, he cupped the globes of her breasts and squeezed, lifting his head to latch onto a tight little nipple with his teeth and lips.

  When he bit down, she shuddered and lowered herself on him, taking him inside a few molten inches. “Oh, God!” She planted her hands on the mattress and rotated her hips, screwing him, easing slowly down his shaft.

  He opened his mouth, letting go of her nipple. “That’s it, baby. Fuck me.” He pinched her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and lay back on the pillow, watching the expression on her face.

  Her eyes squeezed tight, and her lush mouth opened around a moan.

  “Take your time,” he said, although all he wanted to do was grip her ass hard and force her faster down his aching shaft. He cupped her breasts and toggled her nipples as she rose and fell, a little deeper each time—a little wetter and a lot hotter.

  Her head fell back, exposing the white skin of her long throat, and her gilded hair billowed around her shoulders when her movements quickened.

  As soon as her breaths grew jagged, Rene slid a thumb through the crisp hairs covering her pubis and found her clit. He rubbed it in ever-tightening circles.

  Natalie cried out and leaned over him, clutching his shoulders as she took him deeper, ramming down his cock, fucking him harder.

  Her clit throbbed beneath his circling fingertip, and her channel clasped his shaft in rhythmic pulses that caressed and massaged his length.

  He gritted his teeth, trying to hold off a little longer, but the heat building inside her core had him thrusting upward to meet her, spearing deep.

  Just as his thighs and balls tightened, Natalie sobbed and her breath hitched, and then a whining, keening sound broke from her throat. Her orgasm rippled along her channel, tugging and squeezing—milking his cock.

  Rene’s head jerked back, and he exploded, pounding upward to drive himself deep with each jet of cum. He shouted and shuddered, fucking into her tight cunt, tunneling deep until he was spent.

  When the roar of blood rushing through his ears quieted, he pulled Natalie down against his chest. For several moments only the sounds of their harsh breaths filled the air.

  Natalie stirred against his chest. “You really shouldn’t tempt me like this,” she said, tonguing the side of his neck.

  Too tired to be alarmed, he felt a smile stretch his lips. “What? You wanna bite me again?”

  She pressed her lips to the place she’d bitten him earlier. “It seems I do have some control. I wanted to bite your cock.”

  He snorted. “Thank God, you had that much sense.”

  “Maybe you would have liked it,” she said, her voice softly teasing.

  “Trust me on this. It’s not somethin’ you wanna try on a man.”

  She yawned deeply. “Maybe next time…”

  He didn’t reply, knowing there wouldn’t be one, but not wanting to spoil the moment. He’d never been much into aftermaths, but here he was, still tucked inside her warmth. He held his breath while he thought about that.

  Twice now, he’d thrown caution to the wind—compelled beyond his willpower to mate with Natalie. It hadn’t been anything approaching love making. What he’d felt had been primitive and urgent.

  And while his earlier anger, most of it directed at himself, was tempered by how amazing the sex had been, he knew there was going to be hell to pay.

  “You’re thinking about her again, aren’t you?” she asked, her voice muffled against his skin.

  “Who?”

  “Your partner.”

  “Her name’s Chessa. Jealous?”

  “I don’t know. Disappointed, I guess.”

  “Natalie…” What could he say? This couldn’t last beyond tonight. He wouldn’t give her false hope it might. “You don’t have anythin’ to worry about th—”

  “Don’t.” She pressed a finger to his lips. “I’m being needy again. I keep forgetting about the ‘Big-Bad’ out there. You should be flattered.”

  “Why?” He knew he was quickly becoming monosyllabic, but he was just too tired to follow her tangents.

  “Because you make me feel safe enough to forget.”

  His arms tightened around her at the reminder of the dangers lurking in the darkness beyond the walls. “You should get some sleep.”

  She nodded against his chest. “This is nice,” she murmured. “I can hear your heartbeat.”

  As rain renewed its patter on the tiled roof above their heads, silence fell between them.

  Rene held her until she fell asleep, then lowered her gently to the mattress and covered her before dressing in the dark. He may have broken rule number one, but he’d be damned if he broke number two.

  Rene wasn’t going to lose someone on his watch.

  CHAPTER 5

  A crunch sounded outside—a crisp scrape like a footstep on grit. A sound Natalie knew was distant, perhaps from the courtyard below the window, but it jerked her awake in an instant just the same.

  And just as quickly, she knew something wasn’t right.

  The sound might have been the rustle of drying leaves as they tumbled across the paving stones, or a small animal slipping between the iron bars of the gate, but she knew that wasn’t true.

  She no longer questioned how she knew—she accepted the prickling warning the same way she did the fact she was a vampire. Instinctually.

  The hairs on the back of her neck lifted, and alarm tensed her muscles, readying her for flight.

  Only she wasn’t the same frightened girl she’d been before tonight. Now, she’d gained a measure of personal power. She was becoming a monster in her own right.

  And she had Rene.

  Only he wasn’t here, now. His musky scent lingered in the bedroom, clung to the pillow beneath her nose, but he’d been gone for some time.

  Was he aware of the furtive movements outside his house? Had he left to investigate? Or had he tried to escape her once again?

  She couldn’t afford to wait for him to come to her rescue. This time, she’d be ready for whatever stepped out of the shadows. Refusing to huddle beneath the covers, she slipped from the bed and crept to the French window.

  Standing to the side of the casing, she pulled back the edge of the hazy curtain and stared into the darkened courtyard below.

  At first, it appeared empty. Wind whipped the tops of the short trees, stirring the leaves into an agitated whisper.

  If she’d blinked, she might have missed the blurred gray shadows that streaked across the tiny courtyard.

  Holding her breath, she willed her heart to slow its frantic beating so she could continue to listen above the rapid tattoo. Then she stepped toward her suitcase lying open on a small padded bench beside the door. She reached beneath wadded clothing until her fingers closed around the hard plastic grip of her handgun.

  As she pulled it out, she felt a cool, fresh breeze lick across her bare skin and knew the window to the balcony had opened.

  Natalie whipped around with the weapon pointing outward to find a large male figure silhouetted by streetlight between the open doors. Not Rene’s thickly muscled frame. This man was taller and leaner, with midnight hair that brushed the tops of his broad shoulders. His clothing was crisp edged—a long-sleeved shirt covered with a thickly padded vest, topping military style pants and boots. A holster rode along the side of one masculine thigh.

  With her finger poised on the trigger, she drew a shaky breath. “You really should have tried the front door.”

  His head canted, and she realized that while his features were hidden in darkness, her pale skin was a beacon.

  “I seem to have you at a disadvantage,” he replied, French undertones cloaking his voice in silk. His tone was amused, his posture disturbingly relaxed.

  “So, I’m naked,” she blurted, “bu
t I’m the one with the gun in my hand.”

  A soft snort indicated laughter, which only heightened her fear. “Even if you managed to hit where you’re aiming, you can’t win this battle, Natalie.”

  A shiver racked her body. “I’ll manage just fine, but you might have a little problem finding me without a head attached to your shoulders.”

  This time the laughter sifted around her like a soft dusting of confectioner’s sugar—delicious, light, tempting.

  And before she could pull back on the 5.5-pound trigger, he was beside her, his hand wrapping around hers on the weapon. “Let go.”

  She whimpered from fear and a sudden, dampening thrill. “How?” she croaked, as curious about the speed with which he’d moved as she was afraid and aroused.

  “I’m not going to hurt you, mon enfant.” He stepped closer and wrapped an arm around her back, then leaned down to nuzzle her cheek. “Just let go.”

  Her body betrayed her. But unlike the powerful lust that had driven her to take Rene past his good intentions, a strange, enervating lassitude had her leaning into his solid chest.

  Had he done this to her with just his voice?

  He tipped the nozzle of her weapon down and dragged it from her nerveless fingers. “There,” he said, “no fuss. You’re a brave girl.” His chest rose beneath her cheek as he drew a deep breath. “And a naughty one, it seems. Good for you.”

  Was this how her friend Vicki had felt the moment before her throat had been ripped open? Resigned, relieved—willing to let death come without so much as a whimper?

  But she wasn’t ready to die. Not tonight.

  With one last attempt to resist, she rallied her dulled wits and shoved at his chest, lifting one knee to ram between his legs.

  He easily sidestepped her attack, then slipped a hard thigh between hers and pushed her against the wall, trapping her hands against his chest. One large hand gently cradled the back of her head; the other still held her weapon. He drew the cold metal slowly up her naked side, over her hip, letting it bump against each rib, one by one, and then follow the outside curve of her breast.

  Natalie drew a ragged breath, knowing she was entirely at his mercy. The odd thing was all she could concentrate on was the rasp of the coarse fabric that clothed the muscled thigh pressed against her sensitive, heated flesh and the fresh-washed scent of the man holding her. “What have you done to me?” she asked, recognizing the familiarity of the words. Now she knew how Rene had felt. Compelled beyond his will to respond.

  She sensed his smile against her cheek. “Just a trick. One I promise to teach you…if you’re good.”

  The teasing note in his voice calmed her. His hand gripped her hair and he tilted her head to kiss her lips, then he released her hair.

  She heard the rasp of Velcro opening and felt the sting of something sharp stabbing into her neck. She whimpered, but curved her fingertips into the stiff vest cloaking his chest and clung to him as darkness closed around her.

  Rene prowled the house, sticking to the downstairs rooms this time. He’d checked his cell phone again and left Chessa a blistering message. What the hell was keeping her anyway?

  Although his body still felt mildly drugged by his roll in the sheets with Natalie, his emotions felt edgy and alert. Standing at the sink in the kitchen, he ran cool water to wash his face—anything to stem the heat building again inside him.

  He cupped water in his hands and stared at his palms, remembering the feel of her soft breasts with their erect little points. He muttered an oath and splashed the water into his face. If he dunked his whole head beneath the spigot, he still wouldn’t clear the image or the feelings from his mind.

  He was mad as hell at himself—and Chessa. She hadn’t given him adequate warning. Partners didn’t leave partners swingin’ in the wind.

  If he’d known what he faced, the potent, irresistible temptation she embodied, he might have stood a chance of deflecting Natalie’s allure—hell, he’d have tied a knot in his cock sooner than fuck a vampire!

  Sweet as she’d been, he didn’t need that kind of trouble. Worse, he couldn’t trust that what he was starting to feel for her was real.

  But what exactly was he feeling? Desire? Certainly. Lust? Absolutely. Connection? That possibility terrified him. Natalie was quickly becoming an obsession.

  He poured a glass of water and took a long drink, hoping the coolness slipping down his throat would somehow halt his body’s arousal.

  Even now, she lay naked in his bed. Moonlight bathed her curved body. The lemon and apple smell of her still scented the air—still clung to his own skin. He’d fled the room before the musky scent of sex overwhelmed him, hardened him—again.

  Earlier, pale light had revealed his deepest fear. Natalie’s eyes had glittered with longing and trust. That had been the scariest thing of all. Not that she was a vampire, but that she trusted him to keep her safe and not betray her heart.

  He just plain couldn’t give her what she wanted.

  A floorboard creaked behind him, and he caught Chessa’s reflection in the darkened window above the sink. She was dressed in SWAT gear. “It’s about damn time you got back here,” he growled. He placed the glass on the countertop and turned in time to catch Chessa’s downward-sweeping glance.

  His cheeks heated. Wearing only blue jeans and his shoulder holster, he knew she’d jumped to all the right conclusions as her lips thinned.

  When her glance met his again, the stillness in her set his heart thudding with unease.

  Then he heard footsteps coming through the hallway and saw several men dressed entirely in black, walking quietly through his house and up the stairs. He pushed away from the counter. “What the hell’s goin’ on, Chessa?”

  She glanced briefly over her shoulder and then turned slowly back toward him. “We’re taking her out of here.”

  “Let me go up to wake her. You’re gonna scare her.”

  Her lips tightened. “And you’d care, wouldn’t you?”

  He heard a muffled whimper from above and stepped toward the doorway.

  Chessa stuck out her arm, blocking his exit.

  Close enough now that he could have pushed past her, he glared down into her face. “Chessa…”

  “You can’t help her now, partner.” Her head tilted slightly. “Damn you, you can’t even help yourself. You fucked her.” She inhaled, her nostrils flaring as she sniffed. “Hell, you reek of sex. You couldn’t keep away, could you?”

  She didn’t sound angry—which he would have preferred. Instead, he read disappointment and resignation in her tone.

  Feeling off center and ashamed, he retorted, “You could have told me what I was facin’—spelled it out so this human would understand. Cheech, she was fuckin’ irresistible.”

  “And now?” she said, her sharp gaze roaming his face. “What do you feel now?”

  “Nothing,” he lied. “Not a goddamn thing.”

  Another rustling sound came from above, and then a thin cry. He pressed against her arm.

  “You need to let me handle this.” Her eyes narrowed and seemed to catalog every twitch he made that gave away his concern.

  Rene fought against the overpowering need to surge past her and up the stairs. This was Chessa’s business now, but he sure as hell hated not knowing what was happening.

  “Did you come inside her?” Chessa asked, her voice dead even.

  His gaze slid away from hers. He refused to answer. The shame burning his cheeks told her what she wanted to know.

  “Of course, you did.” She reached into a pocket on the top of her Kevlar vest and pulled out a syringe.

  He eyed it warily and stepped back. “What the fuck’s that for and what are they doin’ up there?”

  “We don’t want her alarmed. Or harmed. So we’re going to put her out for transportation.”

  “Are they stickin’ her now?” he asked, anger stiffening his spine.

  “Yeah, and this one’s for you.” She shoved her forearms into
his chest, slamming him against the wall.

  Rene roared and pushed back, but for the first time, he experienced the strength in her wiry muscles that could take down a linebacker. It happened so fast, he didn’t have time to consider another strategy. He tried to pull back, but for the second time that night, he wasn’t the one in control.

  Her whole body strained against him, and she used one elbow to press into his neck so hard his vision quickly filled with prickling lights.

  Her hand shot out, and she jabbed the syringe into his neck.

  He pulled at her arm, but his already sapping strength was fleeing. His muscles felt more leaden by the moment.

  As he found himself slipping to the floor, he heard Chessa mutter, “Dammit Rene, you really fucked up this time.”

  Chessa rode in the back of the panel truck.

  Both Rene and Natalie, wrapped in sheets, lay in the center of the floor between the long bench seats flanking either side of the vehicle, snuggled close together.

  The sight rankled.

  “You don’t look happy. Everything went according to plan.”

  She heard mockery in the voice of the man sitting across from her and wished Nicolas had chosen to ride in the vehicle with the rest of the security team. These two weren’t waking up anytime soon—she didn’t need help.

  Worse, she hated his sharp-eyed perception. He’d read her interest as she’d cradled Rene’s body on the floor and tenderly pulled out the needle from his neck after she’d shot him up with enough sedative to keep him down for the rest of the night.

  “So, we have a baby vamp. That’s cause for celebration, is it not?”

  She leveled a glare at him, knowing he was only making conversation to annoy her. Her mind was still reeling, and she needed time to think. She’d taken a risk leaving Natalie with Rene, but she’d hoped he would be strong enough to resist her hormonal appeal.

  Chessa’d had plans of her own for the Cajun. Four years of sussing out his strengths and weaknesses to determine whether he would be the right sort of man to enter her life. Four years of yearning for his hard, toned body, patiently learning the secrets that kept him from committing to a woman.

 

‹ Prev