Paranormal Nights (Paranormal Romance Boxed Set)

by CJ Ellisson

  “Listen. Reika. This, uh. This isn’t...going to work.”

  “Please?”

  “I have an injury that…affects things.”

  “I know.”

  “Nobody knows,” he informed her.

  “You have a bullet fragment lodged between your lumbar and sacral curve. Lower spine. Inoperable. Potentially paralyzing. Painful if jarred.”

  “What the hell?”

  “It’s not a problem, Darryl.”

  “Tell that to my spine.”

  “It’ll be better by morning.”

  “Every specialist on the planet says different.”

  “Did you see a vampire?”

  Darrell lifted both brows. “They weren’t on the referral list…so no.”

  “Then, trust me. I can fix it.”

  “Trust you?”

  “I promise.”

  “Is the cure going to be worse than the disease?” he asked.

  A slight smile curved her lips. She ran a tongue over them. Moved a hairsbreadth closer and his neck arched up, as if wanting the connection. The kiss. The tongue action. What the hell. If he had to go, might as well go this way.

  Chapter Six

  Lips touched. Melded. His breath caressed. Teased. Tongues tangled. Reika’s moans resonated with pleasure. Her arms wavered and then gave, sending her against, and then atop his chest as he collapsed back onto the mattress. Her breasts smashed into his pecs. Her belly grazed his. Her loins slid along his lower abdomen. Down. Farther. Questing and reaching, and then touching absolute rigidity and heat. Her knees reacted, gripping alongside his hips, while everything inside her started altering. Going soft. Liquid. Pliant. Hungry. Feminine. And everything she’d lost so many centuries ago.

  She’d forgotten his injury.

  His body jerked beneath her, went tense. Angered. Darryl yanked from the kiss, arching his head backward. His body shook. The bedstead joined in. He might’ve groaned but cut it off, stifled in his throat where it made a gurgling sound as he dealt with pain she couldn’t comprehend. Or understand. A red flush crept through his chest, up his neck. It tinted his lower jaw and cheeks. Reika lurched with reaction, fighting the temptation to take. Feed. Her thighs tightened along his sides. Her hands dug into his shoulders. She had to conquer the need; the hunger.

  Not yet…

  He’d taken to little huffs of breath, barely moving his chest against hers. Each touch was incredible. Stirring. His touch altered the bloodlust, taking it to something else. Something beautiful. Reika slowly relaxed her fingers. Her thighs. He still had his eyes tightly closed, denying this, rejecting her. Reika started anew, this time sliding her tongue along the vein in his throat. Licking at the perfect puncture point. Scraping a canine along flesh…opening a cut. Enduring the allure. The carnal feast. The enticement. No. Not just yet…

  “Listen. Uh…Reika…”

  The words were distorted. Gruff. And stopped by how she’d lifted her head and caught his agony-laced gaze. His cut-off speech was also due to her movement, wrapping her hands about his head, massaging a thumb across his lips. He didn’t need to say anything. She had been at fault. She’d been hasty. She hadn’t handled his pain first. He needed an infusion of vampire-tainted blood. Her blood was the perfect panacea: the relief to his pain; treatment for his injury; countermand to his condition. Vampirism was the perfect medicine; even a partial infusion would restore health. Alter abnormalities. Heal disease. Cure infirmities. Remove foreign objects…

  Like a bullet.

  But she’d lost her wits the moment their lips had met. She hadn’t known how devastating a kiss could be! Nobody had described the wonder, the feel and texture…and the taste! Oh my. Darryl’s kiss was unbelievably stimulating; totally irresistible. She’d just have to resist the temptation. Be strong, so it wouldn’t overwhelm her again. Reika jabbed her fangs into her lower lip, opening duel cuts that immediately welled blood. And then she slammed her mouth to his.

  His body reacted at the first taste, arching up from the mattress; taking her with it. She held on, while he sucked and licked and shook with something that might have started as pain, but didn’t stay that way. The long groan coming from his chest was auditory proof. Her moans weren’t far behind. His kiss contained wonder. Absolute perfection. It sent her soaring into a sphere of ecstasy-dipped sensation and then it kept her there.

  She had to alter it, though. She had to finish this before things went completely out of control.

  Reika rolled to her side, taking him with her, disguising her intention with a slide of both hands about his back. Learning. Massaging. Caressing. Her fingers skimmed the ridges of his spine; the muscle of his lower back. Each move drew her closer to the little scar that marked the bullet’s point of entry. She found it, situated at the exact point where his back met the curve of his buttocks. The area was thick with muscle. Taut. Warm. His skin was sensory delight. Tangible pleasure. Reika made circles about his scar, tenderizing it. Working it. She could feel the bullet vibrating beneath her fingers as it shoved through healed-over tissue, searching the same path that had placed it there; tearing through flesh and sinew and tendons.

  And nerves.

  Darryl was shaking but completely taut; handling pain and agony as she’d never experienced. Or if she had, it was forgotten over the centuries. She must not have given him enough of her blood. She probably should’ve opened a gash in her wrist, fed him more, maybe allowed more time. She should have, but couldn’t. Her entire body was alert and readied and thrilling with something she had barely leashed. She didn’t know how she controlled it now. If she waited…?

  This wasn’t working. She’d have to help.

  Reika lifted her head, craning her neck to look up, locating her dagger that he’d worn strapped to his belt. Still there, dangling from one of the posts of the headboard. She lunged for it.

  “What the hell? Reika—?”

  Wide brown eyes stared into hers. The irises large. Black. His look was anxious. Guarded. Almost frightened. Reika maneuvered her hands without breaking eye contact, keeping the dagger behind him, out of view. One hand grazed the path along his spine to his injury, located the bulge that was his bullet seeking a pathway out. The other hand sliced. Darryl jerked. Cried out with a sharp curse. Tried to yank from her. Reika didn’t allow it. And she was stronger. She held him in place as blood spurted onto the sheets, accompanying the bullet. She grabbed for it, and knocked it off the bed, where it rolled somewhere beneath them. Where she couldn’t…quite…see.

  “What…did you just do?”

  The words were tight. Controlled. Spoken through clenched teeth. She had to give up looking for the bit of steel.

  “I got the bullet out.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Wait. Don’t move yet.”

  “Bitch.”

  The word got meshed in with some more cursing. Most of it aimed at her; at fate. He graduated to creatures of the night. Reika ignored him and bent over his side, bringing the gash into view. This was incredibly difficult. Close to impossible! The aura of blood called her. Her canines throbbed with ache. Deep, liquid red coated her vision. Thirst dried her mouth and she fought it, shaking with the effort.

  And still he cursed her. Unknowing of how she fought near-uncontrollable cravings and urges. Stupid man.

  Reika put her fingers against both sides of his gash, pushed the flesh together, and held it while she blew on it. Watched it start to knit. Waited for a scab to start. Knitting his flesh back together. Healing him. Watching it turn to a pucker of scarred skin again. And then she moved, sliding back into place; matching her frame to his; doing her best to ignore the blood coating her hands as it tormented her. Called to her.

  He had his eyes narrowed. His face set. Nothing on him looked like the man who’d been kissing her, taking her to heights of wonder, sending sensual spurts through her. Wrestling tongues with her.

  Except maybe the drops of blood on his lips.

  She had to shut her
eyes for a moment and staunch the urge. The hunger. Before she lost out. He was watching her with narrowed brown eyes when she opened hers.

  “Try moving,” she said.

  “No.”

  “Your bullet’s out.”

  “Yeah. Right.”

  She lidded her eyes to match him. Look for look. The heart she’d recently noted got louder. Stronger. The cadence matching his - beat for beat, taking the rhythm from him. She’d heard that happened with a mate, too. She hadn’t believed that part, either.

  “Are you going to move? Or am I going to have to make you?” she asked.

  He lowered his chin a hair and did a faint twist from the waist, putting a lot of bulk against hers where their loins were touching. He twisted the other way. Came back, pushing her onto her back. Again. Every return move mashed parts of him to her. Toying with her. Tempting her. Reika lifted a leg to grip him. On the rebound, she did the same with the other, encasing his hips between her thighs. She held him as he rolled. Going with each move: right; then left. And then back again. Over and over. His expression changed to disbelief, then comprehension, and from there to elation. Joy. He stopped on his back, with her atop him. He had a gorgeous smile. Reika matched it without conscious thought.

  “Holy shit. It doesn’t hurt,” he told her. “I can move…and it doesn’t hurt!”

  “I know.”

  He licked his lips, tasting the residue of fluid she’d given him. A tremor went through him. It took her with it. His expression altered. He looked unsure. Leery.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Am I…a vampire now?”

  “Partial.”

  “Partial? Oh. Well, I guess you might as well lay it on me. What does that mean?”

  “Superior senses. Heightened abilities - mainly strength and endurance. You won’t get ill or catch disease. Should you get hurt, the wounds heal faster than normal. Things like that.”

  “Seriously? You’re saying I’m a super being now?”

  She nodded.

  “Sweet. Any side effects?”

  “A…few.”

  “Well, speak up then. What are they?”

  “Sensitivity to sunlight. Taste bud changes. Difficulty seeing oneself in a mirror. Hazy images in photographs. Things like that.”

  “Hmm. Is it a forever thing, then?”

  “Oh no. Age dulls it.”

  “Age? What about immortality?”

  “I have to turn you…all the way for that. Do you want me to?”

  “Seriously? You’re giving me a choice?”

  She went just as sober. Maybe she didn’t want a reawakened heart, because it was sending little darts through her with every beat.

  “What would…you choose?”

  He twisted again, taking her with him, and then he rolled, placing her beneath him. Her ankles locked behind his hips. Her gaze caught. Mesmerized.

  “Why don’t you kiss me again, and we find out?”

  He lowered his head, reached her mouth, and sent her senses spiraling. Winging. Rotating crazily. His kiss evoked wonder. Anticipation. Eagerness. And a minute sting from where her cut opened again. Thirst claimed her. Complete need. Her mouth slid along his chin, grazing her lips on the light stubble from his beard. He matched her motion for motion, grappling with her for the perfect spot: The place where his pulse raised a vein. Reika shoved her fingers through his hair to hold him and then stabbed her fangs into his throat, tightening her grip as he lurched upward, taking her with him.

  And it wasn’t enough.

  His hands quested along the backs of her thighs, molded about her buttocks, shoving the Grecian style gown up, pooling it into a gossamer buffer that separated their abdomens. Fingers touched the sensitive skin of her inner thigh; moved higher - to her juncture. Found her core. Manipulating and caressing and sending her into regions of absolute delight from the vibration of his fingers.

  The sensation crested, leveled off, and then burst; becoming a shower of sparks. And each one carried delight. Reika pulled from his neck and arched, launching the cry of surprise blended with pleasure. Amazement mixed with disbelief. She hadn’t known sensations such as this existed, and were possible to achieve. Liquid warmth pulsed through her, flooding her tissues with a plethora of perfection. A symphony of bliss. A medley of delight. No one had ever described such sensations. Or if they had, she hadn’t listened. And they hadn’t possessed accurate words. This was even better than a feast of non-tainted blood. More pleasure than she thought existed…almost frightening in its range.

  But it wasn’t enough either.

  The shudder that ran through him bore witness. As did the wildness of his expression once her cry finished and she looked back at him. His hair was shoulder-length, golden-touched brown. At the moment, it was sticking out in spikes of disarray.

  “What did…you do?” she asked.

  “Readied you. I should probably stop. Find a…condom.”

  “What?”

  “Screw that. You don’t carry disease. You said so. Yes?”

  She nodded.

  “And I know you can’t get…pregnant.”

  Her eyes went wide. He grinned. He had the slightest spikes on his canines. The image evoked wildness. Predatory intent. Untamed and primed and dominant male. Something she’d rarely seen, and never allowed. Except now. With him. Somewhere deep within her, her female answered. Swelling. Moistening. She licked her lips. His eyelashes lowered, and then he snagged her mouth, his kiss opening a fresh cut.

  Warmth wrapped them, heavy and moist. Hot. Darryl moved along her, sliding easily. His movements short; thick; rhythmic. Up. Down. His rod grazed against her with each upward move, moved it away with the downward motion. The contact alternately seared, then cooled. Tormenting. Electrifying.

  Sensations hammered at her. Every touch taking her closer to paradise’s door, and them shoving it open. The view of fields assailed her mind…fields, such as had existed in some far off memory. They carried the scent of wildflowers, clover; sunshine. Her ears filled with sound resembling rainbow-flecked waterfalls, full of roaring water; clean, fresh water. The vision just out of reach; mists from the water’s base obscuring everything. She closed her eyes tight, wrapped her arms about him, and matched his lip movements with her own. The kiss deepened. His hands grabbed her buttocks, held her splayed. Ready. Her legs tensed, bringing her closer to him, the motion questing. Begging. And then he lunged deep into her, tearing through and entering where no one else ever had.

  Everything in him stilled. His breath caught. His heart missed a beat. She knew. Hers matched it. He pulled from the kiss and looked down at her, his eyes dark; his expression unreadable. Tinged slightly with what could be anger. Mixed with what looked like awe.

  “You were a virgin?”

  “Is that…bad?”

  “Well…uh. No. It’s just—wow. You okay?’

  She nodded.

  His body trembled. Everything tensed. She hadn’t been speaking idly before. Darryl was a big man. Large. Everywhere. Engorged, his cock was filling and branding and at the same time, toying with her; sending little pulses that didn’t match the taut condition of the man. And then he sighed heavily, releasing cooling air about her. The move unleashed something, too, gaining her depth and weight and the slackening of muscle and sinew. Then it got her his groan. And then movement.

  She cried aloud at the first move from him, disbelieving the scope of the sensation, nor the absolute thrill. He pushed back in, grunting slightly. Out. Again. And again. Reika locked her legs about his hips, her arms about his chest. Clung. Meshed. Meeting him thrust for thrust as shivers chased more shivers along her limbs; coursed her belly. They rippled through her breast, making such tight sensitive points of her nipples, she moaned as they skimmed his chest, the silk she still wore there only adding to the friction. The abrasion.

  Darryl lifted his chest, supported by arms so taut and strong, they invited a caress. Adoration. Veneration. She complied, skimming her fingerti
ps along thick muscle and sinew, purring her satisfaction. His movements got wilder, supported by his new position. Thicker. Faster. The cadence growing with each thrust and retreat. His body pulled out only to fill her again. Over and over. Deeper. Harder.

  More…

  His chest expanded and retracted, matching a rhythm that grew in size and speed. His breathing matched it; harsh and tinted with groans. The pulse beat they shared grew stronger, sharper, more intense. Something strange and wonderful stirred deep within her, spreading outward with each movement. It gained strength. Intensity. Momentum. A spark flared. Caught. Blossomed.

  Grew.

  Reika tossed her head, giving vent to the amazement that flared all through her, becoming a perfect blend of fire and ice; water and dust. Wind and calm. The elements shifted. Her existence altered. Wave after wave of pleasure poured over her. Joy erupted. Bliss burst into being. Ecstasy tinged everything.

  And through it she heard Darryl. His body pulsed into hers like a wild thing, thrashing against her, a groan of depth and range providing accompaniment. Reika held to him through it, watching. Wondering. Knowing exactly what the exquisite feeling flooding her was. No wonder she’d never been told. It was a fulfillment few knew, and none had explained. She’d found the perfect love. A forever love.

  With him. Her mate.

  Darryl’s movements calmed. His groan turned to chuckles, the sound reaching her newly-awakened heart. He looked down at her, licked his lips, and then collapsed.

  Chapter Seven

  “The doctor will see you now.”

  About time.

  Darryl followed the sour-faced, rotund nurse docilely, keeping the tension and excitement well covered. It was made easier by the dark glasses he wore, even here, in a pristine fluorescent-lit environment. Reika hadn’t told him that. She’d said sunlight, not every bright light source. This might be an issue come nightfall. He’d be the first operative wearing sunglasses instead of night vision goggles.