He jerked his pants below his hips. His cock sprung out, thick, huge and hard. The purplish tip glistened with his readiness. And along the sides, more scars shone white.
He ripped the pants off his legs and stood before her, his bearing proud, regal. “Look at me,” he demanded, voice strained as if he was about to shatter. “Then tell me you want me.”
* * *
Eric turned, slowly, so she could see every inch of his scarred and battered body.
She claimed to want him. And though he throbbed with the desire she’d woken from deep within, he wasn’t some mindless rutting beast.
Let her see his shame. She’d change her mind.
Behind him, she gasped. He cringed, waiting for a shriek, a demand that he leave.
He knew exactly what she saw.
Hadn’t he stared at himself in the mirror, despising the countless proofs of his own failure, his own weakness?
Hadn’t he felt each and every scar being made?
Been helpless to prevent it from happening?
“Had your fill yet, Princess?” he asked, his voice raw from the strain of repressing his emotions.
The bed shifted and he waited for her to run away. Then, soft hands traced along his back, running over each raised scar. Her fingers drifted down, over the scars along his hips, to the sorceress’s brand, burned into his left thigh. She’d given his brother the same mark on Brandon’s right thigh. To tell them apart, she’d said.
Cat traced the scythe, its handle crossed with a bar.
“Who did this to you?” she whispered.
“A sorceress. She wanted to mark me and my brother as her property,” he replied, pushing his shame down in order to remain untouched, unemotional.
Cat slid her arms around him, hugging him.
“God, Eric. What you must have suffered.”
He bit his tongue so hard, blood welled. Now she pitied him. He squeezed his eyes shut, fought the rising urge of lust as her breasts pressed against him. He’d be damned if he’d feel any such thing.
Any minute now, she’d tell him she no longer wanted him.
Her hands left his chest and she drew back. He braced for the rejection. And heard nothing.
Her hot little hands wrapped around his cock and he nearly spilled his seed when she squeezed him. His eyes snapped open.
Cat stood in front of him, her eyes still shining with desire. “You asked me to tell you I still want you, right?” She rose on her toes, pressing her lips to his. Her nipples brushed his chest as she rose on her toes then rubbed his cock over her burning wetness. “I still want you, Eric.”
He stared at her, disbelief coursing through him. There was no disgust, no pity in her green eyes. Only desire. And... admiration?
His body was frozen. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t understand.
As if reading his mind, she hooked her foot behind his ankle, then shoved him backwards. He fell onto the bed, his cock raised like a flag ready to claim territory for one’s own.
Cat licked her lips as if she wanted to devour him, then like some exotic feline, crawled up his body. “You are stunning. Gorgeous,” she said. “A true warrior, with the proof to bare testament to all you’ve suffered. All you’ve conquered.”
Something inside him broke at those words. Emotions he’d kept locked up tight for eons flooded through him.
With a harsh cry, he grabbed her tight and flipped them over. Covering her body with his own, he kissed her hard and deep, yet felt as if he’d never get his fill. What was this woman doing to him?
Her nails dug into his ass as she tilted her hips, sliding herself over his cock. He shuddered from the sensation, his head whirling.
Lust.
Desire.
Need.
He wanted to slam into her softness. Refused his baser urges. It might have been a hellishly long time since any woman had welcomed him to her bed, but he’d not damage this precious gift with callousness.
He pushed himself up, hungry for the taste of her skin. Her dusky nipples were sweet, velvety smooth. He slid down to the tattoo on her stomach he could now see clearly. It was a multi-colored dragon.
Not a real one, more like a fanciful cartoon. And resting in one outstretched paw, as if dancing on the beast’s claws, a whimsical fairy—naked but for dust shimmering from her wings over certain, private areas.
The ruby winked from Cat’s belly button in place of the dragon’s eye.
He nuzzled her stomach, before rising once more to her breasts. She watched him, her lips curved into a smile. The warmth from her gaze washed over him.
Making him feel as if this was where he belonged. “Elska,” he groaned, cupping her breasts and sucking one nipple deep into his mouth.
Love. Not his, though, he knew. He didn’t deserve such a thing.
He ignored the thoughts, the way they seemed to pain his chest, and concentrated on bringing this woman all the pleasure in the world.
Chapter Sixteen
Eric cupped Cat’s breasts, drawing one sensitive nipple between his teeth and nipping. Sensations spiraled through her, over her skin, and she arched her back into his wicked touch.
Electricity filled the air around them as he explored her body with his hands and mouth. Every inch of her was on fire and only he could fan the flames.
“Your skin is like silk,” he whispered almost reverently, tracing the dragon tattoo on her abdomen with his fingertip. He followed the trail with his tongue, moving lower to ease her legs open wider.
He kissed the inside of her thigh. The scruff on his chin sent delicious shivers through her and she dug her fingers into his shoulders, trying to pull him even closer.
He moved upwards, damp skin on skin, until he nuzzled her neck. Rising above her, Eric stared into her eyes, rubbing his thumb over her cheek.
His gaze was still slightly confused, as if unsure she was truly accepting of him, scars and all. She knew nothing she could say would convince him, but she would damn well show him how gorgeous he was to her.
She smoothed her hands up his chest, flicking his nipples and watching them tighten. She traced the hard, whitish scars as they continued higher, then moved over his shoulders and down his muscled back. Her warrior, one with such strength to be able to face so much.
He bent closer and she tugged the leather tie from his hair. His glorious mane fell around them like a curtain of moonbeams. She buried her fingers in the silky strands she’d wanted to touch since the first night he’d allowed his long hair free.
She nibbled his lower lip, then licked her tongue over where she’d nipped. He groaned, pressing her deeper against the bed as he explored her mouth, his hands roaming her skin as if he wanted to leave no inch untouched.
His cock slid against her and the storm building inside picked up its crescendo. She grabbed his ass, tugging him closer.
He resisted. “Not yet, darling. Don’t worry, we’ll get to that.”
Her body stretched tight with desire. “Now,” she growled.
He chuckled. “We’ve got all day.”
He moved to her side. As if to whet her appetite even further, he slid one calloused hand down her stomach and between her thighs. He pinched her sensitive flesh and her hips bucked up into his touch.
His hair teased her nipples. With a sly look, he gently bit one breast, then blew over the wetness, chilling her skin and making goosebumps rise. Her nipples puckered tighter, nearly painfully.
She moaned at the sensation, ready to beg for more.
“May I...” His words drifted off as he hesitated.
“What?” she asked breathily.
“Taste you fully?” he finally replied.
In response, she rose up, sliding her fangs over his neck and collarbone. “You want to bite me?”
“Aye.”
Drawing back to meet his shuttered gaze, she drew one nail along her breast. Blood welled and she begged prettily, “Please?”
He groaned, his eyes flashing a mix of desire and needy hunger.
She cupped the back of his head, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him nearer. His fangs punctured her skin and she nearly jerked up off the bed from the intense exquisiteness. Pleasure rushed through her, making her pant with fierce need.
He chuckled against her skin.
Her breath rushed out when he moved his fingers lower, teasingly rubbing them in circles, but never staying long enough. Deciding turn-about was fair play, she slid her palm along his beautiful chest and abs, then drifted them over his length.
The mesmerizing storm building in his gaze captivated her, drawing her into the depths of his very soul.
She cupped his tight balls, playfully rolling them against her palm, then tugging on them. He hissed in a breath, his length throbbing against her with the same desperate need she felt.
Grabbing his neck, she drew him up and kissed him with all the passion inside. He groaned into her mouth. Moving lower, she nipped his jaw, then nibbled on his neck, before biting him.
A heady rush filled her on his sweet blood. His cock grew even harder against her hand.
“Gods, Cathrina,” he cried out.
“Mmm, hmm,” she mumbled in reply.
She wanted him with a building urgency that she couldn’t deny. Shoving him to his back, she rose above him, straddling his hips and sliding herself along his cock. He pulsed against her, eyes shining, lips curved in a joyous grin.
And her heart flitted at the sight.
He was panty-melting gorgeous. He didn’t even realize his scars made him even more enticing. They showed his power, his strength. The ability to fight through anything and survive to emerge stronger on the other side.
She leaned over him, tracing one fang along the scars above his pecks, then sank her teeth into him. At the same time, she took him inside. He shouted from the rush of pleasure sweeping through them both.
“You like it rough, do you?” he asked, amused as he slapped one butt cheek.
She blinked at him. “I like it any way you want to give it.”
His grin widened and he jerked his hips up, slamming into her, deep and hard. She moaned, her eyes fluttering closed.
Her heart skipped a beat as ecstasy filled her. Reaching behind her, she grabbed his thighs, arching her back as she rode him.
He rubbed his thumb over her in hard little circles, intensifying the pleasure.
The sensations spiraled around her like the gray-blue storm swirling in his eyes. He groaned, cupping her breasts. Lightning shot through her, down to her curling toes.
She moved faster as the building passion took control. His fingers dug into her hips as he thrusted deep, sending her into a place where only primal pleasure existed.
The storm continued to build. As the orgasm exploded, she screamed, “Eric!”
In the fireplace, the dim coals roared, flames brightening the room, as her passion overflowed.
Eric held her steady, continuing to pump into her as her body tightened, clenching around him. Pleasure swamped her, the storm flickering over her skin, spiraling deep within. He drew her down to his chest, and rolled. On top once more, he grinned wickedly. She wrapped her legs around his hips, matching his movements as he pulled back, then thrust deep.
The orgasm, still thundering, built once more. Before she could even begin to think, it slammed into her with such force she saw sparks in the air. This desire between them was going to burn her house down.
She didn’t care, as long as he kept moving within her, touching her, loving her.
Riding the waves of pleasure, she raked her nails down his back and tight ass. The fire roared louder, matching her feelings.
“Wild woman,” he said huskily, pumping into her harder, faster, keeping her suspended in a place of delicious, mind-blowing ecstasy.
Then, with a hoarse shout, he came, his hot seed spilling deep inside her. As his movements slowed, she held him tight.
He rested a cheek above her breast, breathing as heavily as she. Running her hands over his back, she drifted, content and thoroughly satisfied.
After long moments, he slid to her side, and pulled her against him, wrapping his arms around her as if he’d never let her go.
And she realized she wouldn’t mind. Not with this man who, without her even realizing it, had captured a piece of her heart.
Her wounded warrior.
* * *
When Cat woke, shadows stretched through her bedroom. Only coals remained in the fireplace, casting a dim reddish light across the floor.
Eric still slept, his lips curled in contentment.
She lay pressed against him, her arm draped across his chest, one leg thrown over his thighs. Softly, she placed her hand over his heart, so as not to wake him.
Her cell rang on the table beside the bed and Eric jerked up, sliding from the bed to crouch, ready to fight, searching the room.
“It’s all right,” she said quietly, answering the call. “Hello?”
He sat down on the side of the bed, glancing at her sheepishly.
The caller, their voice androgynous and monotone, replied, “The priestess will see you at ten. Don’t be late.”
Cat glanced at the clock, estimated the time it would take them to dress, grab a quick bite to eat and get to the cemetery. “We’ll be there.”
The phone clicked in her ear. Turning to Eric, she studied him.
He seemed more relaxed than she’d ever seen him. Great sex helped with that, but it was so much more. As if a huge weight had fallen away.
“You sure you want to come?” she asked.
His expression turned stony. “Dare you ask?”
“I guess not.” She sat up, the thin sheet falling to her waist.
His gaze locked on her naked chest, his hands clenched on his thighs. Then, slowly, he reached over and traced a bite mark over her right nipple and the resulting hickey he’d left. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
She chuckled, pinning him with a fake glare. “Dare you ask?”
He finally smiled and repeated her words, “I guess not.”
“Good.” As she noticed his growing erection, she nibbled her lower lip, then checked the time once more. “Meet you in the shower?”
He swept her into his arms and carried her into the bathroom. Without setting her down, he turned on the water and stepped beneath the freezing cold spray. She shrieked when it hit, shoving at his shoulder.
“Don’t worry. I’ll warm you up,” he replied huskily.
“You’d better,” she replied, reaching up to kiss him.
Chapter Seventeen
They walked through the dark graveyard, Eric practically dragging the resistant man by the leash attached to his bound wrists. After a few near bites on the ride over, Cat had gagged their prisoner. An added benefit was the muffling of his eerie groans.
Soon, they reached the stone mausoleum standing by itself on a small hill. The only other thing occupying the space was a tree, devoid of life even beyond the rest of the graveyard. Its empty branches stood outlined against the night sky. The only light came from the sliver of the moon far above.
Cat glanced at Eric, studying his reaction. He stared straight ahead, brows drawn, familiar scowl in place. Only now, she knew it was a façade, his way of keeping space between himself and the rest of the world.
At the door to the stone structure, Cat reached out and knocked. The sound echoed into the desolate darkness around them.
After a long moment, the door creaked, swinging inward. Inside, the place was pitch black, its inky shadows all encompassing.
She shivered, then stepped forward.
Eric grabbed her arm. “Are you certain we can trust this sorceress?”
She patted his hand, stopping when she realized what she was doing. “She’s a priestess, more of a witch than a sorceress.”
He glared into the dark. “Not much difference.”
“Actually, there is. She is bound by the law of three that witches ascribe to. Not only does she try to do
no harm, she believes any pain she inflicts will return to her three-fold.”
“So?” he replied as if disinterested, though by the tenseness of his shoulders, he was paying great attention. “Most sorceresses are strong enough to deflect any retribution.”
“Then you’ll just have to trust me,” she replied, standing on her tiptoes and placing a quick kiss on his lips.
Rubbing the back of his neck, he said, “I’ll go first, with this guy.” He pointed to the now silent man.
She nodded. “But be aware, Jezamine keeps her entrance... um, well, decorated, I guess is the word. She says it keeps out unwanted visitors. And don’t draw any weapons. She doesn’t like that.”
His eyes narrowed, but he raised his chin and headed into the dark.
* * *
Eric felt blind and unprepared. Even with BrynTröll strapped to his back, he knew there were things a sorceress or witch could throw at him that he’d be hard-pressed to stop.
On the far wall, light flared to life. The torch hung from a sconce, illuminating an entrance to descending stairs. Going underground seemed to be the bane of his existence.
Things tended to happen down in the belly of the Earth that forever changed one’s outlook on life. Apprehension skittered over his neck. A feeling that something wasn’t right. That he’d be required to deal with something ahead he didn’t want to even think about, much less face.
Cat laid a hand on his back, not pushing him forward, but more as comfort. It helped.
His only choice was to continue on. There was no way in all the hells he’d allow her to go alone. With a deep breath, he stepped forward and started down the stairs, tugging the man to follow.
As they walked, more torches along the walls flickered to life.
Cobwebs decorated the stone walls, resplendent with fat, dark spiders. The black widows flashed their red hourglass bellies as if in warning to stay back.
After a little more than ten feet, the stairs ended at a long, dimly lit tunnel. Cat moved to his side and they continued on.
The place smelled of swamp, a damp muddiness filled with decay. As they walked, Eric tried not to notice the bones littering the ground. Some looked to be from strange animals, others distinctly human.
Firestorm: Heart of a Vampire #5 Page 11
