Dark hunger turned his eyes a liquid gold. They were mesmerizing. Hypnotic. Their power seemed to reduce her to almost a lethargic state. She was drowning in his passion, eager to quench his thirst.
Thoughts past this moment—this man—were almost nonexistent.
Unmercifully, he stoked the flame burning brightly inside her as he ground his hips to hers. The way he held her, his palm pressed to that sensitive spot at the small of her back as he commanded her across the floor, was masterful.
Strong and confident, he led—she followed.
Fallon wanted Adrian with every beat of her heart. He was a weakness she feared she could never get enough of.
“Too many clothes.” His deep, sexy growl moved across her skin roughly, making every nerve ending sensitive and raw. A sharp tingle hissed, raising the hairs on her arms as her boots and skirt dissolved. The next minute he was as naked as she.
Music soft and low, Gary Allen’s “Dancing With Nothing On But The Radio” took on a whole new meaning. She had never felt anything as erotic as their bare forms moving to the beat of the song, the freedom in a turn, or the coming together of their bodies.
“Fuck me.” Her low, thick moan was a plea. Unable to resist touching him, her hand wedged between them to cup and stroke his stiff erection.
The minute her fingers closed around his cock, he gasped. Crimson drops of blood beaded as his sharp, white fangs appeared in his mouth. The rich scent was heavenly, triggering her incisors to emerge. Her mouth salivated. The taste of her own blood lay upon her tongue. His essence called to her, waiting to be sampled.
Fallon had never seen anything as sexy as the hunger raging upon his face or his body fully aroused as she stroked him from balls to tip. His hips undulated against her hand, increasing the rhythm. When his palms settled on her shoulders, exerted pressure so that her knees bent, she knew exactly what he wanted—and she was more than happy to oblige.
As she sank further down to the floor, she pressed her lips to his chest, kissing a path across his heated skin. His grip tightened when she dipped her tongue into his bellybutton. Her other hand cradled his testicles. Gently, she fondled the two oval glands, pulling and stretching the soft skin of his scrotum.
“Now.” His voice was firm and demanding. Her belly tightened with his command. “Fuck me with your hot, wet mouth—now.” She loved the tension in his voice. It meant she was affecting him as much as he did her.
With her hand still gripping the base of his cock, she licked the length of him. A tremor rippled through him. He hissed, sucking air between his clenched teeth. The points of his fangs dimpled his bottom lip. A lock of hair fell over one eye as he looked down at her.
“Yeah. Ohhh…” he breathed. “More.” Fire burned in the depths of his gaze riveted on her lips. When she took him into her mouth, his pupils dilated. “God…” The single word came out on a throaty groan. “Deeper— More—” His mouth parted, as his hips thrust forward, driving him to the back of her throat. “Fuck. You feel so good.”
A swirl of her tongue over the small slit at the crown won her a taste of his salty pre-come. When her eyelids closed his hands moved from her shoulders to her hair, fingers curling and yanking her head back, so that her neck arched and her eyes widened.
“Watch me fuck your mouth.” He pumped in and out, slipping between her lips, filling her mouth with every inch of his cock.
Saliva built in her mouth. She swallowed, the action making him jerk.
“God, I don’t want to come. Not now.” The taut expression on his face said he was fighting his climax.
She smiled around her mouthful of cock. She had every intention of making him lose control. She swallowed again.
“Dammit, baby, don’t do that unless you want a mouthful of come.”
She swallowed again.
Adrian moved so quickly Fallon didn’t know what was happening. The next thing she realized her back was pressed against the cool wall of the bedroom. He clasped her ass in his strong hands, raising her and spreading her thighs wide. “Lock your legs around my waist.” Wrapping her arms around his neck, she complied. Then he buried his firm erection deep inside her.
With pounding thrusts he rocked against her cradle, filling her with an incredible fullness. She wanted to cry out from the pleasure. “Harder.”
Her head bounced against the wall as he drove harder—deeper inside her. The slap of their flesh coming together made her inner muscles spasm. The sweet scent of sex caressed her nose. There was something primitive in his sexy, deep sounds he made as he slammed into her body over and over.
As the coil inside her drew tighter, she screamed, “Harder. Fuck me, harder.”
He moved with preternatural speed, ripping her from the wall and jerking her to the bed so that she lay upon her stomach. Before she could inhale his hands pushed beneath her, palms pressing against her abdomen as he raised her ass, parted her slit and entered her.
“Oh, God,” she murmured. His rigid cock struck the back of her cervix. She braced her palms on the soft comforter, raising herself so that next time he shoved his hips forward, she met him halfway. Again and again, he drove unrelentingly between her thighs, never relaxing or easing his strokes.
The pleasure/pain was unreal as he struck her sore ass each time he slid between her swollen flesh. She couldn’t breathe. Her body tensed, tightening into one big knot preparing to unravel.
Fast, but gently, he rolled her over to her back, driving her further up the bed as their bodies came together again.
“Come for me, darlin’.” Like silk gliding over polished marble, his deep, sexy voice led her to the precipice, but it was his fangs piercing the soft swell of her breast that pushed her over the edge.
She threw back her head and screamed.
The prism of lights in her mind shattered and swirled, constantly changing in color and shape. She writhed beneath him uncontrollably. He continued to thrust in and out, hard and fast, between her legs. Her orgasm felt like it was ripped from her womb to course through her body—a burn that threatened to devour.
She felt hot—so very hot.
All she could think of was spontaneous combustion as the heat grew—abruptly exploding into another round of fiery sensations.
She arched beneath him. “Adrian!” Pleasure tore her asunder. To anchor herself she sank her incisors deep into his neck.
One more lunge and Adrian stilled. A loud roar permeated his head. Pain tightened his balls. The flames shooting down his erection curled his toes in the bedding. A resonant groan tore from somewhere deep in his throat. While she took his blood, her body squeezed his cock, again and again, milking him of his seed. The strain on his groin wouldn’t let up. The pleasure so intense it left him breathless.
When the last bit of his come flowed into her body, she closed the wound at his neck. He heard her sated sigh. Loved the way she snuggled into his neck as she found comfort. Lightly, her fingertips danced over his back. Quick movements consisting of two lines that crossed over each other to form a cross. The next series of lines were short and wispy drawn in a crescent shape that feathered the top of the cross.
Adrian’s heart stuttered.
Did she even realize what she was doing?
Fallon had drawn the pattern of unity—a mating sign meant to safeguard one’s mate before he headed to battle.
“What are you doing?” he said and her hand stilled. He hadn’t meant to sound so disconcerted.
She tensed beneath him. “I’m sorry.” Hurt rang in her apology.
“It’s okay.” He rose above her, rolling to his side. “I just wanted to know what you were drawing.”
“Nothing.” A defensive tone rang in her voice. “I was tickling your back.”
“Tickling?”
“Yeah. Like I used to do to Christy’s ba—” Fallon went deathly quiet. Color drained from her face.
Obviously this was someone she didn’t wish to talk about. He couldn’t let her keep things bottled u
p inside. She had to learn to trust him—even with her secrets.
“Who’s Christy?”
Indecision warred across her face running the gamut from fear to hope.
Her chest rose on an inhale. As she pushed the air from her lungs, she said, “My daughter.”
That was one answer he hadn’t expected. For a moment Adrian didn’t know what to say. Slowly, he cleared his throat. “You have a daughter?”
Fallon raised her chin. Whether it was a defensive move or she fought to control her emotions, he wasn’t sure. “Had a daughter.” Her voice cracked.
Had? They were either estranged, maybe an ex-husband had guardianship due to Fallon’s immortality or the child no longer lived. The thought that Fallon had been married didn’t set well with him. “Where is she?”
“Dead.” Her reply was nearly inaudible.
He waited for tears that didn’t come. No wonder she had nightmares. “What happened to her?”
“Pedro Chavez.” There was enough rancor pronounced in his name to melt steel.
Adrian reached for Fallon, needing to comfort her, but she withdrew climbing off the bed. Gracing him with her shapely back, he watched as a tremor rippled through her body.
When she turned to face him, her eyes were cloudy, cold and unemotional. Not once did she blink an eye, as she said, “I’m going to kill him.” The chill in her tone left absolutely no doubt in Adrian’s mind she meant every word.
Chapter Thirteen
Quietly, Adrian rose from the bed. Fallon stood like a statue. Her facial features hardened—her stance unyielding. Soft music continued to play in the background, but he doubted she was listening. The wooden floor was chilly beneath his bare feet as he stepped before her.
He reached out to her, but before his hands came into contact, she whispered, “Please. Don’t touch me.”
“Fallon—”
She closed her eyes as if tuning him out. He could feel her mental shields rise. If he wanted to penetrate them her strength was not enough to resist him. But he wouldn’t invade her thoughts.
When she was ready—he’d be there for her.
A nervous tick started in the corner of her mouth. Her brows furrowed as the tick traveled to her chin making it lightly quiver. When her eyelids rose her lashes were spiked with tears. She ran her tongue between her dry lips. Again, she opened her mouth, then closed it tightly and shook her head.
“Breathe, darlin’.”
The woman was holding on by a thread from the looks of it. He wanted to hold her, but he knew that it would be the catalyst that would surely lead to her breakdown.
So he silently waited, both of them naked, standing face to face.
Emotion glistened in her eyes as she looked up at him. “I brought him into our home after dating him a couple times. Just for coffee…” She took a ragged breath. He could see she held the air locked in her lungs, as she fought for composure. “I couldn’t stop him.” Her lips parted as she gulped down a hungry breath. “Her screams—” Pain twisted Fallon’s beautiful features into a mass of agony that made his gut clench tight. As if she sought to stop herself from speaking of the terrifying event, her hands covered her mouth. Then she removed them, as she repeated, “I couldn’t stop him.”
Adrian saw red behind his eyelids. An innocent’s death was hard to accept, but a child’s…
Anger rushed through his veins hot and furious.
What Fallon and her child had gone through no one should ever have to bear. Chavez’s cruelty had reached the ultimate in sadism. There was no way for a human—man or woman—to have stopped him.
Adrian tried to embrace her, but she stepped away. She had suffered in silence—suffered alone. He needed as much as wanted to hold her to chase the nightmare away.
Fallon’s helplessness and guilt were raw, falling from her eyes in the form of tears. Tears he wanted to wipe away, but that was only physical. The ones that lay within her only time could erase.
Fallon’s revenge, he thoroughly understood.
A snort sounded, as Fallon tried to pull herself together. Emotion continued to leak from her eyes. Her nose was reddening and began to run.
With a few footsteps he made it to the nightstand and retrieved a couple of tissues. Then he returned to Fallon, offering them to her, which she accepted.
The muscles in her neck tightened as she swallowed. “He-he t-tortured Christy— Drained her—” Her voice broke into short, gasping breaths as she looked away. “Blood. God. There was so much.” Her fingers opened and closed rapidly. Pulse sped. “Her broken body—” Eyes rimmed red, they filled with a wild expression. “I-I watched. Couldn’t move. It was as if my feet were rooted to the ground. My arms locked to my side. I didn’t understand until later the compulsion Chavez placed upon me. I thought it was fear.” Her sorrowful expression made his chest tighten. “He made me watch my baby die.”
Fallon’s body trembled with the force of an earthquake.
“Then he raped me.” A little of her pain was washed away with a hint of rage surfacing that brightened her eyes. “Over and over again.” Through clenched teeth she muttered, “Before he made me into what I am today.”
“Son of a bitch.” Adrian couldn’t take any more. Grasping her arms, he forced her into his embrace and held her. He’d kill the bastard himself.
Fallon’s forearms lay against his chest. Warm tears dampened his skin as she buried her head against his shoulder and cried.
Gently, he stroked her back. “Shhh… It’s okay, darlin’.”
With a quick jerk, she pushed from his arms. Her tears dried immediately. Pinched features skewed into a partial scowl, she countered sharply, “It will never be okay until he’s dead.”
“I didn’t mean—”
Well fuck. Wrong choice of words.
Still in the grips of her fury, she said, “Teach me.”
Adrian stiffened before he could help himself. “What?” God, he hoped she wasn’t asking what he thought she was. Hadn’t she learned by now that there was no way for her to defeat Chavez? Or was her pain too raw that it blinded her to the truth? Clearly, Fallon had seen and experienced way too much in her young life. A child’s loss was a parent’s worst fear.
With a single step she walked back into his arms, placing her palms flat on his chest. Fervent hunger stared up at him. “Teach me what I need to know to kill him.” A glimpse of hope brightened her face. “Adrian, I’ll do anything you ask of me. Just tell me what to do.”
He cringed inwardly. Desperate pleas—or was it obsession he heard in her voice?
How was he supposed to answer her? Before he could stop himself, he shook his head. “Darlin’…”
The small gesture didn’t go unnoticed. “You won’t help me?” Fallon’s shoulders drooped, as her hand fell from his chest to her side. She bowed her head.
With his finger beneath her chin, he brought her gaze to his. “I can’t help you.”
A whisper of sarcasm rose in her voice. “Can’t or won’t?”
“Can’t,” Adrian said firmly. He knew she didn’t want to hear what he had to say, but she had to. “You will never obtain the power or knowledge to defeat Chavez. It’s impossible. He made you. You live by his blood, which is his power. It flows through your veins. When he commands—you obey. Distance has been your only true friend.”
She glowered. “But I know he can be killed. No one is truly immortal—not even Chavez.”
“True. But a submissive can’t kill his Master.”
Her breath left her lungs in a single gush of air. “No…” Disheartened, she scrutinized him as if she searched for the lie that didn’t exist in his statement.
“Then I don’t have a choice.” She spoke so softly he almost didn’t hear her.
This was not looking good. An uneasy chill slithered down his spine. “Care to explain?”
“It doesn’t matter now.”
It was inconceivable that she would go back to Chavez. Just the thought turned his bloo
d cold. “Fallon?”
For a brief moment she appeared lost in thought. When she looked at him her expression was bleak. The air of surrender enveloped her. “I made a promise that Chavez would die before I joined Christy. I failed her, again.”
He didn’t like the desolate ring to her voice or what she was implying. “Join Christy?”
“Adrian,” pain washed across Fallon’s face, “without her there isn’t anything on Earth worth living for.”
Her words hit him like a blow to the gut—or maybe it was his heart. She didn’t feel the same about him as he did her. “Nothing, Fallon?” He hated the hurt that echoed in his ears.
Silence was her answer.
When she finally spoke, she murmured, “I promised Christy.” Fallon glanced out the window longingly, then back at him. Gently, she cupped his face. On tiptoes, she brushed her mouth across his. “We have a couple hours before the sun rises and I have to go.” Her lips thinned. “Make love to me.”
She wouldn’t really go through with her ridiculous oath—greet the morning—end her life?
Turmoil like he had never felt before rushed him, threatening to devour him. When had this woman become so important to him? Plans were already in place to ensure her safety. But there was nothing he could do to stop her from joining her daughter if she chose to.
Unexpected anger rose. His fingers closed firmly around her wrists. “What about us, Fallon?”
“Us?”
“You. Me.” The urge to shake some sense into her built inside him. But he held his temper beneath the surface. His grip didn’t tighten, but his voice did. “Isn’t a life together worth living for?”
For a second he thought a flicker of affection, yearning shadowed her eyes, but it was quickly erased by a look of regret.
“I can’t ask you to endanger your life as well as your people. I learned that with the battle you fought with Dominic. Chavez will find me, especially if I stay here. Running is the only chance I have.” The tendons in her throat grew taut. “I’m tired of running. And I won’t live under his control. I have no choice.”
Adrian released her, moving one hand beneath her silky hair and cupping the nape of her neck. “Do you trust me?”
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