Dragon Bitten (Shifter Paranormal Dragon Romance) (The Fire Dragon Series Book 2)

by Amy Faye

  Then again, who knew what Isaiah would think. After a hundred years, Jason felt like he didn't know him any better now than he ever had.

  The two things that he was sure of, though, were that he'd never seen Isaiah drink when time was short, and that if he were here now, he could have helped stopped the shaking in Jason's hands.

  He could smell her from all the way over here. It would be so simple, and he only needed a taste. He could finally lay off the Tabasco sauce, could finally taste his food again. Even if it was only for a week or two, it would be worth it.

  She wouldn't even miss the blood. Only a small taste, he reminded himself. He stood up. A voice in his mind shouted that whatever Victor wanted her for, it must be important. There must be a reason she was so interesting, and if he drank her blood she'd never trust him. He couldn't keep her around long enough to find out what was so special.

  The hunger was louder.

  He wanted it to be harder, for his body to fight himself as he walked across the room. For someone to stop him, for Sarah to wake up, to run.

  He was too quiet, too light on his feet for her to hear through the veil of sleep, and then he was standing over her and he realized exactly how easy it was to take what he wanted, not for the first time.

  A sound outside made him stop. He was coming. Jason recognized the sound of his footsteps, the way that his shoes scuffed the ground.

  Jason breathed a sigh of relief and opened the door. It was hard to do it quietly, with the rust, so he took it slowly. Isaiah wouldn't be in any hurry to get inside.

  He'd want to talk. Want to figure out what it was that had brought the shitstorm from before down on their heads. Want to figure out a plan of attack for the morning. Jason had been interrupted before, caught with his hand in the cookie jar when the hunger took him over. He'd been angry. He was angry now, on some level.

  More than that, though, he was glad.

  Until he saw Isaiah's face.

  5

  Sarah's eyes didn't feel as if they opened all at once. She thought they were closed, but then there was a whole new level of darkness that she could get when she closed them tighter. It was too bright. She wanted to go back to sleep, she was still tired.

  Then she opened them for real. That was a mistake, and she realized it almost immediately. The sun was streaming down into the room through the window in the ceiling and seemed to point directly into her eyes no matter how she rolled over. Eventually she realized that she wasn't going to get back to sleep and sat up.

  There was a problem, and the problem was visible right away. Isaiah walked towards her, his body strangely stilted, as if he didn't know how to act around her. He was wearing sunglasses and long clothes, in spite of the ambient warmth. Jason was standing by the door, staring as if he could see right through it.

  "You're up."

  Isaiah was the one who had spoken, and he offered his hand to help her up off the mattress. She ignored it and tried to stand on her own. Her legs were wobbly, but she wasn't about to accept his help. Not from a—a monster, she mentally filled in. She couldn't bring herself to think it.

  Somehow in the light of day the terror that had gripped her the night before seemed less real, as if she had been imagining the whole thing from the beginning. The fact that she hadn't woken up in her own bed, and that these two were here, that was the only reason she didn't think the whole thing had been some sort of surreal nightmare.

  "I want to go home."

  "You know we can't just let you go home," Isaiah said softly. "It's not safe."

  "You should let her go," Jason added, his sarcastic tone sounding almost practiced. "She'll just do what she wants to do, in the long run."

  "Exactly."

  "Well, we're going to deal with Victor, and you're coming with us."

  "No." Sarah felt as if she was gaining steam, and soon she was going to blow her lid and they were going to finally see what she was capable of. "I'm not going anywhere with you. You can't even leave, can you? You'll burn up in the sun!"

  Isaiah pulled the sunglasses away from his eyes and blinked the sun out of his eyes. But in the end he was there, looking at her, the way that she realized immediately that she should have expected from the beginning. If he had to hide during the day, then he wouldn't have been standing in the main room at all.

  "If you're going to come with us even for a few minutes, to take care of one vampire, you should know at least a little. They heal pretty fast. Faster than you expect. But they can be killed, more or less the same ways as people can be. They don't like light, but don't be an idiot. The stories aren't exactly the most accurate source of information. Unless you think that he'll glitter if you expose him to light, too?"

  Jason snorted at the joke, and Isaiah's head turned subtly to acknowledge it.

  "Fine." Sarah sighed in frustration, hoping to seem as if she had resigned herself to her fate. If they weren't going to let her go, then it was just a matter of time until she could lose them in the craziness.

  The one thing that she was sure of, though, was that they were absolutely crazy, and she needed to get away as soon as possible. Then Isaiah reached out and grabbed her hand.

  The feeling of his skin against hers reminded her of the night before. The way that he'd laid her down, then what had come after, the ecstasy that he'd shown her…

  She closed her eyes. She couldn't have this kind of craziness. Couldn't deal with the baggage that they came with, no matter how they looked. No matter how they made her feel.

  Someone else, some day, would come along and she'd wonder why she had ever thought that Isaiah and Jason were so breathtakingly good-looking. Only… they'd both been interested in her. At least, they'd talked to her, and kissed her, and saved her life. How many other men were going to be able to stand up to that comparison?

  She let them pull her into a car and drive her along the streets, but her mind was somewhere else. There had to be a way to have it both ways. Maybe they could be cured? But how? And how would it affect their work? Would they even agree to something like that? Would they thank her?

  She tried to stop that line of thinking. There was no future with these two, she told herself. Nothing to look forward to, so there was no reason to try to think too hard about "saving" them, either from their curse or from anything else, for that matter.

  As long as she was with them, she was in danger. She repeated it to herself again to make sure that it stuck. The car slowed to a stop and then Jason was coming around to open her door and offering a hand to help her up out of the back seat.

  She didn't know how long they'd been driving, but it couldn't have been more than twenty minutes. It was amazing that houses like this existed so close to the city. She'd thought most people lived in those little suburban homes, or apartments if they wanted to live downtown, but never something… this size.

  The three of them walked around the estate in a group, Jason's arm entwined with her own. When she followed the line of their eyes, she saw a back door, almost hidden from view. They started to walk, pulling her along with them.

  The door was large and heavy. She could tell more from the sound of it when it closed than any struggle on Isaiah's part when he opened it. It seemed to open easily and moved silently until it closed behind them with a dull thump.

  If the outside wasn't misleading, the place was at least three stories tall. It looked as if there were two wings of the house, which was absurd. Who could possibly need so many rooms for themselves?

  "Should we split up? It'd be better if we caught Victor before he caught wind that we're inside."

  Isaiah seemed to weigh the options for a moment before nodding.

  "You take the east wing, I'll take Sarah with me to the west wing."

  "Wait," she cut in, sensing an opportunity. "What if he's in the basement? You can see the stairs leading down right there."

  She pointed them out. Sure as can be, there was a set of stairs leading down into the darkness. It seemed exceedi
ngly unlikely that anyone was down there, she thought. She hoped.

  Again, Isaiah seemed to take a long moment to contemplate whether or not it would help, and the expression on his face seemed to suggest that he was going to refuse. Then, at the last moment, he nodded.

  "Good thinking." Sarah smiled to herself. That was all she needed. A chance to get away from them both. Once she went down a little ways, and they went their own separate ways, she could double back and be out of there lickity-split. "But you don't have a way to get in touch with us. If you find anything—I mean anything, Sarah—you scream and you come running. Is that clear?"

  Sarah blinked to cover her eyes involuntarily rolling. As if she was going to run into anything in a darkened basement. "Of course."

  "Good. Be safe, both of you. I don't need this turning into trouble."

  "Or what, you'll suck my blood?"

  Isaiah's jaw twitched. She'd hit a nerve. Sarah tried not to let her pleasure show on her face. "Just stay safe, alright?"

  "You got it, Dracula." Another twitch, this one stronger. She struggled to bite back a smile.

  "Get to it," he growled, turning on his heel and not waiting for a response.

  Jason's gaze lingered on her for a long moment. He seemed almost like he wanted to say something. Then he, too, was going. She thought she saw him looking back to check on her as she turned to go down the steps, but then she was around the corner and headed down.

  It was a long staircase, and Sarah was beginning to realize that this was no average basement. After the first few steps her eyes started acclimating to the darkness, but it was still surprisingly difficult to see. She couldn't make out the bottom of the steps until she was nearly halfway down, and well more than twenty feet into the darkness.

  She'd made a mistake, she realized. If there was any place that he'd be, it would be down here. She turned to look back up the steps. It was only a little way back, and she'd be free and clear by now. She took a tentative step back up.

  A sound made her stop. What was that? She didn't want to know, didn't want to think about what it could possibly be making a noise behind her. She strained her ears to hear, but no noise came. Sarah shut her eyes and tried to be reasonable, taking another ginger step up.

  The noise came again, clear as can be. Something behind her, and closer than the last time. She needed to leave. A sick feeling filled her; a feeling that if she didn't get out now, she wasn't going to get out at all.

  Going back up was harder than coming down. Her breaths came in short puffs as she moved as fast as she could up the darkened stairs. Every single step she raised her knees higher than she thought she needed to. The terrified feeling in the pit of her stomach told her that she couldn't afford to miss a step, to stumble on the lip.

  The doorway was getting closer. Closer. Any second now she would be up and into the sunlight. She'd be a short run to the outside, and then she'd be out.

  Passing through the threshold and into the light of the morning sun was like being born again, the feeling of all her terror starting to slough off. Whatever was down there had gotten close. She'd felt it, heard the steps coming impossibly closer.

  She didn't have time to enjoy the feeling, though. She needed to be gone, now. The feeling of relief was almost palpable. She was almost free, finally. Then a pair of powerful arms wrapped around her, squeezing the breath out of her.

  Sarah tried to struggle to turn around, to see who had grabbed her, but the arms held her fast. Deep down, she knew. It was him. Victor. He'd come and grabbed her. How stupid could she have been to assume that she was safe? She'd known that she was in the house of a monster. A man who was powerful both politically and physically.

  She'd assumed that Isaiah or Jason would have found him, though. That they would have done what they claimed to do best. They'd sounded so certain of their plan that as he pulled her back, down the steps, into the darkness, it almost didn't seem real.

  Her eyes hadn't begun adjusting to the darkness when the arms loosened and another door closed, shutting off any but a tiny sliver of light from beneath the crack. Sarah was left in the dark, and the only thing that she was sure of was what was going to happen next.

  She felt his mouth on her neck, felt the scrape of his teeth against her flesh, but he didn't bite down. Not right away. She shivered at the sensation, at the pleasure that it sent through her in spite of her terror.

  She could almost make out the outline of his hands in the darkness as thin fingers started to work the buttons of her blouse, one by one. She tried to fight, but he was too strong. His body pressed against hers, the feeling of cloth against her skin, goosebumps raised from the cold and the fear that held her.

  His lips came down on her throat again, and the sharp, sweet pleasure of the kiss was inescapable once more. She wanted him to… she tried not to think it. Tried to put the thought out of her mind, but as his teeth sank in, it didn't seem to hurt the way that she'd expected. No, it felt… almost good.

  She let out an unsteady breath as her blood started to flow into his waiting mouth. His hands moved across her body, probing and touching and feeling. Sarah's body involuntarily pressed back against him, unconsciously daring him to do whatever he wanted. To take whatever he wanted.

  Sarah let her eyes slip shut again as the strange feeling of peace settled over her. Whatever he wanted, that was right. That was what she wanted. She just wanted to go home. He would let her go, she knew. As soon as he was finished. She could wait just a little bit longer.

  The door slammed open. Isaiah came first, with Jason quickly on his heels. Sarah laid on a counter in a daze, only barely lifting her head to see what was happening. She smiled at them. They were very good looking boys, she thought.

  It had been a long day, and she wanted to go home now. The taller one, Isaiah, spoke first.

  "What happened?"

  Sarah smiled at him. Always worrying. His face was so serious. She just wanted to go back to sleep now. She let her eyes close. A stinging slap came across her face and another voice, Jason's, was shouting that she couldn't go to sleep. But she could. And as the sounds of the world drifted slowly away, she did.

  Ravens MC

  Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance

  Amy Faye

  Published by Heartthrob Publishing

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  Here’s a preview of the sexy love story you’re about to read…

  I can't help myself, looking down at Maguire's body beneath me. I can feel the heat, where we're pressed together. The way that she trembles, I can feel the need that she's feeling, need reflected in my own hardness.

  I put a hand down on her back, pressing her body into the seat, and rub the head of my cock up and down her wet pussy. I push inside slowly, her arousal slick enough that I don't find much resistance against my invading cock.

  Maguire groans out her pleasure, a pleasure that threatens even after so little to overwhelm me. Her pussy pressed in against my unprotected cock clutches at every part of it, fighting to stop me from pulling back out.

  The sensation is almost too much as I pull back. When I slam forward again into her waiting pussy, Maguire lets out a loud groan of pleasure. I can't help but join her.

  "Oh, fuck," I groan, starting to settle into a rhythm. With each pull out, I feel her pussy trying to pull me back in, and with each thrust in I feel as if I'm already impossibly close to orgasm.

  I take a grip of her hips and use them as a handle to push into her harder, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh starting to echo through the bar around us. I don't care, and as far as I can tell, Maguire doesn't care, either. Not that she seems like she's in any state to worry about anything.

  She shudders with pleasure as I pound my cock into her again, my grip starting to slip where her body is slick with sweat from the heat of the room mixing with the heat of arousal.

  I can feel myself hitting her
deepest parts, her body giving up its pleasure to me. I don't need to be given, though. I take what I want, forcing myself into her again and again.

  Maguire is moaning out her pleasure again, unable to contain her voice even for a moment, now. Her voice rises with each thrust, and her lamentations as I pull out are given voice almost as loudly.

  I push into her again, some primal instinct driving me to take a fist-full of her hair and pull her head back. Her back arches away from the bench, but she still cries out in pleasure beneath me.

  "Don't stop." The words can barely make it out of her mouth between her moans and her ragged breath, but I don't need to be told.

  I move her leg, forcing it up onto the raised floor under the booth, opening her hips more for my movements between them. I didn't think it was possible to drive into her any deeper, but I find the space.

  My body cries out with need, every thrust driving me closer and closer to orgasm, bringing me closer to the edge. I drive into her, each thrust seeming to take me deeper than the last, to mark her as mine so that nobody else will ever be able to have her.

  A dangerous part of me likes that idea. Likes the idea that nobody after this will ever be able to measure up to me. I take my grip on her hips again and use it to thrust as hard as I can, forcing her body to remember my shape with the power of each thrust.

  Her hips stopped moving, but I can still see her hands, ineffectually scrabbling for something to get a grip on, something that will give her some sort of control or context on her surroundings.

  I reach down and take that hand in my own, pulling her shoulders back tight. She arches away from the cushion again, her hips pressing back against my invading cock now, a new dimension that I hadn't even considered or imagined.

  I can feel her tightening down on me for what feels like the third or fourth time, and where I had thought that Maguire was out of energy and couldn't muster the strength to keep fucking the way we had been, she seemed to find something more.