Sanctuary Unbound: Red Rock Pass, Book 4

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Sanctuary Unbound: Red Rock Pass, Book 4 Page 11

by Moira Rogers


  She’d go crazy if he didn’t. Her gaze traced the lines of his body, from his broad shoulders down to his stomach and the dark line of hair that disappeared beneath his jeans. “I need you.” She met his eyes. “It’s been too long already.”

  “Too damn long,” he agreed, the words nothing more than a rasping whisper. His belt came free and he jerked his pants open, gaze still fixed to hers. “Hand me a condom.”

  Cindy felt for the box and ripped it open. Strings of packets tumbled out, and she snatched one before it could fall. “Can I do it?”

  He answered with a rough laugh as his fingers skated up her thigh. “You can wrap your hand around my cock just about any damn time you want.”

  The foil tore easily, and Cindy gripped his shaft for a moment before smoothing the latex down its hard length. She’d had him in her mouth, but nothing came close to feeling as good as the way he thrust into her touch, like he was desperate to be buried in her body.

  He didn’t even get his pants off, not all the way. The rough denim chafed the insides of her thighs as he hooked his fingers under her legs and dragged her closer, until she was precariously balanced on the edge of the table and his cock slipped against her as he ground his hips against hers. “You ready?”

  “I already told you yes.” Shaking with anticipation, she wound her arms around his neck and licked his throat where she’d bitten him. “Don’t ask now. Take.”

  “I don’t take.” He ground the words between clenched teeth as he adjusted her hips with his hands. “Not metaphorically—” A tiny thrust, just enough to push the head of his cock inside her, and Cindy had to bite her lip to keep from crying out. He rocked again and groaned. “And not actually. I give. I’ll give you all of me. Can you take it?”

  The effort it took to form a reply was almost too much. “You don’t take, but I’m supposed to?”

  “Isn’t that what you’re doing?” His hand slapped the table behind her as he leaned her back a little, the sudden movement driving him deeper. “Taking every damn inch of me?”

  “But I’m giving you my body—” The word broke into a moan she couldn’t hold back. “Giving and taking, Adam. It has to be both to be enough.”

  He wrapped his free arm around her back and held her tight to him. “Giving and taking,” he agreed in a hoarse whisper, then surged forward until his hips bumped hers, seating him so deep inside her that thinking became an impossibility.

  She could only feel, and what she felt was fire. Every tiny movement shocked her with sensation, drawing her closer to the edge. “Adam.”

  The steel of his arm around her body tightened as he lifted her from the table completely and sank into the nearby chair without releasing her. “Just like this.” He helped her move, kept her so close that the coarse hair on his chest abraded her nipples as he pulled her down hard. “Show me. How fast, how hard, how deep. How you want me to take you.”

  There was no way she didn’t want him, but her tongue wouldn’t cooperate when she tried to tell him that. So she grasped the arched back of the chair and rocked over him, pushing her toes off the hardwood floor.

  He panted and watched her through lidded, glazed eyes, his hands resting lightly on her hips until he caught the rhythm. Then he helped, lifting her just a little higher and pulling her down harder, driving into her with a choked noise of pleasure.

  Cindy cried out and caught his mouth again as heat streaked through her. Kissing him helped her focus on something besides falling apart in his arms, and she needed that, to imprint this moment in her memory the way Adam had already branded himself on her heart.

  He tore his mouth from hers and pressed his lips to her ear, the gravelly tones of his voice rough and low. “Better than I imagined. Better than the dirty dreams. You’re better than everything, riding me.”

  Sheer force of will drove her to meet his sensual torment with her own. She rocked down, tilted her hips tight against his, and froze. “Tell me what you want.”

  His fingers spasmed on her hips, trying to move her, but she was strong. A frustrated growl worked its way up out of his throat. “I want to watch you come when it’s just me, just my body and my cock inside you. No magic but us.”

  How long had it been since he’d connected with someone without magic? Without blood? “No feeding.” Cindy kissed him softly and held his gaze as she leaned back and began to move again. “Watch me.”

  No one had ever stared at her like her eyes held the only pleasure anyone could want. His hands kept her moving, kept guiding her up and down, but his gaze stayed locked on hers. “You’re so damn wet, so damn hot.”

  The words washed over her along with the sweet weight of his stare, driving her wild. Nothing had ever been as important as release—taking his and giving him hers.

  She rocked harder, moaning his name when the friction sent her spinning, need racing through her. Her toes slipped on the floor, and she clutched his shoulders. “More. Adam, please—”

  Muscle bunched under her fingers, and the world spun. Adam lowered her gently to the floor, then braced his hands next to her shoulders and levered his body up. He kept up the rhythm she liked, thrusting quick and deep before withdrawing just slowly enough to let her feel every inch of him.

  She drew her legs up to grasp his hips as everything clenched, tense and tight. His next thrust set off the first hot pulses of orgasm inside her, and they quickly gathered into a cascade of pleasure that curled her toes. She heard her own voice, far away and pleading, begging him not to stop.

  He didn’t, sinking into her over and over, his raspy words of encouragement fading into hard, panting snarls. “Come again.”

  It was impossible not to. Cindy bit her lip and tried not to scream as another wave mounted over the first. Adam threw back his head, exposing the strong column of his throat and the mark she’d left on it. “Fuck, fuck—”

  His thrusts lost their steady pace, and his hips snapped against hers. Once, twice more, then grinding down as a moan of relief tore free of him, riding on a rush of power that flooded the kitchen with pleasure.

  Cindy trembled under him, panting, torn between satiation and a need that wouldn’t be fulfilled until she’d had him time and again. “Thank you.”

  Adam groaned and rolled over, dragging her with him. He hissed when his back hit the floor, then swore roughly. “Next time I swear I’ll make it upstairs. The floor’s too damn cold.”

  “I didn’t notice.” It was too late for the truth of the words to scare her. She nestled closer with a soft sigh. “Are you hungry?”

  “Mmm.” His hands traced a long, lazy path from her shoulders to her hips. “Just for you.”

  She smiled. “Then why did you heat dinner?”

  “Can’t live on sex alone. Figured we’d need it before the night’s out.”

  It would be hours before her need for food outweighed her desire for him. “Thinking ahead, huh?”

  “Trying to think at all.” His thumbs swept along her sides. “It’s not a night for thinking. It’s a night for clinging to everything good.”

  “Like this?” She didn’t need an answer, so she kissed him one more time, slowly. His mouth parted and he let her take her fill before his fingers curled in her hair and his tongue thrust between her lips, proving him still every bit as hungry as he’d been.

  If she didn’t stop kissing him, they’d stay on the floor. “Not so fast.” Cindy pulled away carefully, climbed to her feet and held out her hand. “Floor’s cold, remember? My bed, on the other hand…”

  She might not have forever, but she had tonight. She’d make the most of it, and deal with the rest as it came.

  Knowing they probably weren’t the only people fucking themselves into exhaustion didn’t make Adam feel any less reckless for fighting back sleep. The night passed in a blur of skin and moans, interrupted only by a trip to the kitchen to reheat the forgotten casserole. He’d indulged Cindy shamelessly, mindlessly, unable to deny her every time she reached for him.
r />   He was drunk on her even now as she dozed in his arms under blankets tangled beyond hope. His preternaturally enhanced stamina felt strained, though there was a simple solution to that too.

  Blood.

  He hadn’t taken it. Not when she’d offered the second time, not when her pulse had throbbed beneath his tongue. He’d taken her mouth and her body, had buried his face between her thighs and reveled in her taste and her screams…and he hadn’t once twisted magic up inside her. Every panting whimper, every whisper of his name had been her need for him. A man.

  Drunk indeed.

  “I can feel you thinking,” she murmured finally.

  “I do it sometimes.” He stroked his thumb over the soft skin of her hip and kissed the back of her neck. “Usually try not to get caught. Ruins my ax-wielding psychopath image.”

  She wouldn’t be distracted. “What are you thinking about?”

  “I’m thinking I’ll need power soon, and I should want it more. But it’s…nice like this.”

  Cindy turned in his arms and rubbed her cheek against his chest. “Does feeding have to be about sex?”

  It didn’t seem like the time to remind her that he’d been intending to feed off of Dylan. “No. It has to be about something to be effective, but that doesn’t mean sex all the time.”

  “No, I meant—” Her cheek heated. “Will it be about sex if it’s about me, or can we have something different?”

  He’d fed from women without sex. Only a few weeks ago he’d taken power from Emily and given it to Ethan, fueled by nothing but asexual affection and desperation. But Cindy…

  Oh, it could be good. It could be amazing.

  It could reveal too damn much.

  She deserved to know that. Adam stroked her hair and tried to find the right words. “It’s…intimate. With sex it’s about the pleasure, and everything’s lost in that. But without it, it’s harder to hide. Not that I want to hide from you, but you may not want me rolling around in your most personal feelings.”

  Cindy looked up at him, her eyes bright even in the darkness. “You have a right. They’re all about you.”

  The knowledge roused something primitive inside him. “Doesn’t give me the right. Does give me a powerful curiosity, though.”

  “Then feed,” she whispered huskily. “I want you to, Adam.”

  He could only resist temptation so far. “Roll over again. On your side, with your back to me.”

  She did, nestling back against him, her head tilted to expose her neck and throat. He smoothed her hair back, then pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder. “Can I use magic to make sure it doesn’t hurt?”

  “Nothing but us, remember? It won’t hurt for long.”

  He didn’t want it to hurt at all, but when he slid his arm around her waist her fingers found his and twined around them with such sweet trust that his chest ached. The skin of her neck was warm against his lips as he lowered his mouth and bit her.

  She gasped, and that trust bloomed inside him, stronger than the pain of his fangs cutting through her skin. Stronger than anything. Her hand tightened around his, and the trust gave way to affection and need, so much need…

  He’d never realized that being needed could feel so good. Or maybe he’d just never been needed for what he was instead of what he could be.

  Cindy moaned his name softly, and the need magnified until it became something almost like a plea. Power rose, a thousand times more potent than fear or lust or desperation, because it was her, and all the wildness inside her whirling around and around until he was lost in an ocean of life.

  In the end, he didn’t take much. He didn’t need much, because a tiny bit of blood went a long way when it packed such a punch. He turned his face to her hair and panted for breath as the magic settled, shaken by the depth of their connection. No magical bonds, no binding spells or blood connections…the power had revealed the depth of their growing feelings but it hadn’t created that intimacy.

  No, they’d done that themselves, somehow. Which meant he was a thousand miles past screwed.

  She reached up and touched his cheek. “Do you think, when this is over…that you might stay for a while?”

  The part of him that had lain bruised and broken for so many years urged caution. Permanence was a short step from failure, and more than anything, more than living, he didn’t want to fail Cindy.

  If you fail Cindy, it won’t matter. There won’t be a later. Adam tightened his arms around Cindy as the unhelpful thought drifted up, morbid and unwelcome. Agreeing because he had nothing to lose felt like a betrayal of the quiet warmth kindled between them.

  Cindy deserved more than that.

  Adam turned his head and kissed her palm softly. “I think Maine’ll be just fine without me for a while.”

  She smiled. “Maybe someday soon, Montana can live without me for a few weeks at a time too.”

  It wasn’t quite a commitment, but it also wasn’t a cowardly retreat. Adam brushed a kiss to the top of her head this time and closed his eyes. “Might make my cabin a little less lonely.”

  “A little louder, anyway.”

  “You should know I’ve only had electricity out there for five years. The girl who sells my furniture for me whined until I let her boyfriend have it set up. She tried to give me a computer too, but there are limits.”

  “No technological advances past the first half of the twentieth century?” Cindy teased.

  “Nothing that might be smarter than I am.”

  She laughed. “Like my oven.”

  That laughter melted a tiny bit of his heart. “Like your oven. Don’t know how I feel about microwaves, either. Something unnatural about that.”

  “Don’t worry, it won’t boil your insides if you stand too close.” Her words had slowed. “Trust me. I’m a doctor.”

  “A tired doctor.” The blankets were a hopeless mess, but by dawn it would be chilly. He untangled them and covered them both, then relaxed with her body tucked close to his. “Get some rest, sweetheart. God knows we won’t be getting much tomorrow.”

  “Mmm.” Her breathing deepened. “Rest.”

  Adam needed to rest too, but not even the quiet sounds of the night could ease his restless tension. The woman in his arms trusted him—too much, maybe. Now there was no choice. He had to find a way to defeat their enemy, because failing again, failing her—

  The first time had broken his will. Failing now might break what was left of his heart.

  Chapter Eight

  Two days of nothing but waiting, and Cindy was ready to scream.

  She glared at Keith across the kitchen. “How are you not freaking out as badly as I am?”

  Keith jabbed a fork into the hunk of meat in the skillet in front of him and flipped it over without looking up. “I’m older and wiser.”

  “Older, yes. Wiser? Keep dreaming.”

  “Maybe I’m just better at hiding it.” He turned and leaned back against the counter. “So here we are again. Me, cooking steak for a double date. Should I go make scary protective noises at the vampire?”

  “God, no. Not you too.” Cindy dropped her head back against the wall with a thud. “Things are too dangerous right now for anyone to worry about something as mundane as my love life.”

  “Love life, huh?”

  She cursed the blush that rose in her cheeks. “Sex life, whatever. You know what I meant.”

  Keith’s insufferable grin didn’t waver. “Pretty sure you meant love life. But what do I know? You guys just keep me around to burn meat.”

  Cindy refused to shy away from the conversation. Keith had always been there for her, and that hadn’t changed just because he was now her alpha. “I like him. A lot. Gavin thinks it’s a bad idea, but I don’t care.”

  “I don’t know if Gavin thinks it’s a bad idea.” He nodded to a chair. “Sit. I want to talk serious for a second.”

  She took her coffee cup with her. “What’s wrong?”

  Keith hesitated just long enough fo
r her to know she wouldn’t like what was coming. “Sam told me she talked to you about what happened when Joe and I went to get you. And knowing Sam, she skated around it in dizzy circles without saying anything, because the woman’s a God damned hypocrite when it comes to who gets to have secrets.”

  She had to look away. “You don’t talk this much unless you have a point.”

  “My point is, I knew. Most of us knew. But Dylan didn’t, and Adam doesn’t. And the only way I think this is a bad idea is if you’re just picking men who won’t ever have to—”

  “I told Adam what happened with Preston. Everything.” Cindy clutched her mug and stared at the table.

  Keith didn’t speak. A fork clicked against the edge of the pan, then a sharp sizzle rose, proof he’d flipped the steak again. Another clink and soft footsteps, then Keith’s lips brushed the top of her head in an affectionate, almost paternal kiss. “No growly protective noises. I’m glad you found someone to tell.”

  “Thank you, Keith.” She hadn’t wanted to argue or defend her involvement with Adam, and relief left her weak. “It’s not that I didn’t trust you or Sam or anyone else. It was about me, about being ready to understand. What happened with Preston helped make me who I am, but it isn’t who I am.”

  “I know.” Keith slid a finger under her chin and tilted her head up. “Listen to me. I love Sam like I loved my own mother, but she’s not any more infallible than the rest of us. You figured out something she’s still working on, and you don’t need to worry about taking your time getting there.”

  “I do need to worry about hiding from myself, though. I’m tired of it, Keith.”

  “Then I’m glad you stopped. But only because you’re tired of it. Not because someone else thinks you needed to.”

  She offered him a small smile. “I didn’t plan on this, but I care about him. He cares about me. What we need now is time to figure out what that means.”

  “Time.” Keith let out a bitter laugh as he turned back toward the stove. “What the fuck is up with time, anyway? We should have been fighting two days ago. I can’t figure out what in hell they’re waiting for.”

 

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