by Anthology
Kiara did what she could to help, binding wounds when the nurse handed her cloth to do so. Occasionally she dipped fabric into a pail of cold water and pressed it to men’s foreheads to soothe their delirium. She tried her best not to peer over the tower’s edge, to see the men who were shooting at the dragon, attempting to bring him down. If anything happened to him…
And the hours passed, the air growing colder as she settled into a strange other life; one of magic and time travel, and pain and suffering like she’d never seen.
At last the great silver dragon came to rest once again atop the tower, shifting and cloaking himself before he came to her.
“We will have to bring some of our patients through to my place, for medical attention,” he said. “Would you accompany us—help us?”
“Of course.”
“Kiara,” Drake said, taking her hand now. “It’s nearly Christmas. What I’m asking is a good deal—this is a commitment.”
“I understand.” She smiled. “I can’t imagine anything I’d rather do than help those who need it. It would be a gift to me, if nothing else.”
He leaned in, kissing her on the forehead, and placed a hand on her jaw as he looked into her eyes. “I knew the second I saw you that you were the one.”
“The one?”
“The woman who would soothe all the wars inside my soul,” he said. “You have calmed me. You are my panacea, my drug of choice. You make me feel alive, rather than constantly near death.”
Kiara couldn’t help but smile, though it didn’t begin to encompass all of her feelings. Happiness, concern; a veil of protection and warmth falling over her, cancelling out everything that she’d seen and heard that day.
“I’m glad,” she said. “I’m not sure I’m worthy of such praise, but I’m glad.”
“You are more than worthy,” he said. For a moment, she thought he would kiss her. But he looked away, beyond her towards the ailing men on the ground. Kiara felt ashamed to think that she’d all but forgotten for a moment that they were there.
“The men will bring them down,” he said. “I’ll be in the house, and the doctors will be there soon. There are enough beds for all.”
He led Kiara back down the staircase into that mysterious room that had brought her to him, to this. And they went through, under the tapestry, into the drawing room beyond.
Drake held onto her hand, leading her farther. At first she assumed that he was heading for a phone, to call for medical help. But he pulled her upstairs and into a bedroom—one which seemed to fit into their own century, and pressed a button on the wall.
“A call for the aid we need,” he said, turning back to her as he closed the door. “Believe it or not, we have doctors on speed-dial. They will tend to the patients, and I will check in before too long.”
“Who are you, Micah Drake?” she asked, marvelling at all that had unfolded before her eyes. “How did you even come to be here?”
“I am of a long line of my kind. Dragons, dire wolves, and many other shifters have bred over centuries. I came to this century to escape a life that was weighing me down like an enormous chain around my neck. The house—the art collection—all are a product of centuries of family money. I surround myself with beautiful things to try and forget what I’ve seen. And I have tried in vain to help, to use my resources to stop the war that continues to rage. But at times even I grow tired and need to flee it. And so I come here, to my sanctuary.”
“This is why they call you the Duke?”
“Yes. That is the title that I was granted during my time.”
“And you…you’ll go back there?”
“I must. They need me.” He stepped towards her. “But for this moment, I need to be with you, Kiara, my light. My beautiful escape.”
Without another word, he laid his hands on her waist and eased his body towards hers. And at long last he kissed her.
After a day of battle, a day during which Kiara had clothed herself in a crimson robe and wrapped injured men on a tower’s summit in seventeenth century England, this was the most magical moment of all.
She pressed herself forward into him, her lips greedy to feel the softness, to feel the increasing need.
“I want you so very badly,” he said, kissing her cheek, her forehead, her neck. “I’ve wanted every bit of you since I saw you rushing out of your apartment. You are the most succulent thing I’ve ever seen.”
“I want you too,” she said, pulling at the cloak that covered his naked body. A moment later it had dropped to the floor in a pool about his feet.
He stood before her then, uncovered, perfect. Scratches and battle scars coated a muscular chest and abdomen, each one a testament to his nobility, his goodness. And on his right shoulder was a tattoo: two intertwining dragons.
Between his legs was a part that remained unmarred, perfect, engorged for her.
9
It didn’t take long for Drake to tear her clothing away. First the robe, and then her cotton shirt and jeans, which he flung as far away as he could land them. They were nothing more than a nuisance, a barrier to her beautiful flesh.
They wouldn’t have much time, Kiara knew. Drake was far too good a man to linger in bed with her while others suffered. But after what they’d been through, each of them needed, in this instant, to embrace life and all its meaning. To hold onto what it was that made them feel the blood flowing through their veins.
To remember how quickly one’s heart could be forced to cease beating.
She stood before him in nothing but her lace bra and panties, wondering if she truly could be worthy of such a perfect specimen of a man: he was so large, so strong, so mighty. A mysterious legend in his own time.
But it was he who knelt in supplication to her, his hands moving up her waist, pulling at her bra to unclasp its front closure. She let out a quiet gasp as her breasts came loose. Cupping his hands over them, Drake buried his face in her belly. His mouth was so, so close to her pussy; she could feel his hot breath, enticing and delicious in its caress.
“You smell like everything I have ever wanted,” he said, his eyes coming up to take in the sight of her. He pulled away his hands, revealing those beautiful, round breasts standing at attention, their nipples hard and pleading for his mouth.
“I offer everything I have to you,” she said as she put her fingers in his thick hair. In that moment she wanted to take him, to devour him whole. To claim him as her own. Her dragon lord.
And then his fingers were exploring her, one hand teasing her left nipple, the other slipping its delighted tips between her panties and the wetness they concealed. Drake gasped as he felt her body’s excitement; its unabashed desire for him.
“Oh, dear God,” he said, “you’re so wet.”
“For you,” she moaned as she felt him exploring her. “I told you how I want you. Now perhaps you believe me.”
“I believe you. At last, I believe that such a woman could ever want me, even with all that I am.”
He tore the panties away, throwing them to the side as he buried his face once again, this time pushing her back onto the bed. His mouth landed between her thighs, his lips and tongue consuming her as she let out a prolonged moan. Long arms slid up to palm her soft breasts as she bit her lip, telling herself that it was all right to be so selfish—she would get to pleasure him in a moment. This was a gift that she was granting herself.
And the beauty lay in the fact that she would give back all that she’d received, and then she would offer more. She would give Drake her entire body, her mind, her soul, for as long as he would have them. He was the most beautiful, noble creature she’d ever seen. A fantasy come to life, who’d somehow found his way to her over centuries. He was hers, though he seemed to belong to everyone.
And now he was eating her. This extraordinary man’s mouth was sucking gently on her most tender parts, devoting himself entirely to her pleasure. Her hips squirmed as he lapped her, tongue flicking exquisitely at her bud even as his fin
gers toyed gently with her firm nipples.
Generously she offered herself to him, easing towards his mouth as he devoured her. She breathed deeply, taking in each sense; his touch, his scent in the air. That heavenly tongue, so full of desire and hunger for her.
A moment later his body was over hers, his thumb pressing into her bud as he watched her face, smiling at her bliss. He eased the pad of his thumb into the swollen peak, slowly moving it round in shallow, delicate circles.
“I want you to come for me, my sweet thing,” he said. “I want your beautiful pussy to experience perfection. And then I want to be inside you. So, so much that I can’t even tell you.”
“So make me come,” she gasped as his mouth went to one nipple, sucking gently, tightening and hardening her flesh to a round stone. And then he did the same to the other, as her hips gyrated under his thumb’s touch.
He kissed his way down her belly, his lips landing on her pelvic bone, the fine hairs there teasing his nerve endings. And then his thumb was inside her, instructing her to remember what he wanted to do to her. His tongue lashed at her in punishing strokes, urging her towards her ecstasy.
Wordlessly and helplessly, she gave herself over to the sensation washing over her body, her hips thrusting once, twice at him as his mouth remained fixed to her, relentless in its task.
And he could feel it: the pulsing of her channel, tightening around his thumb as she called out to him, as her body demanded that he enter her.
“I’m coming, oh God, I’m coming for you,” she cried, for a brief moment indifferent to anyone in the house who might hear. Her mind had flown to another place and her body seemed to float as he kissed her pink flesh, ensuring that her orgasm last as long as she could stand.
And finally, as her body seemed to calm he stood, looking down at her. With one hard thrust he sheathed himself inside her. Kiara cried out once again, her fingers reaching for his chest as their eyes met, their intensity like searing flame.
“Kiara,” he said softly as he drove into her. Her eyes were on his, taking him in. “Kiara, I never want this to end.”
Her hands pressed into him, his muscles tense under her touch as he took her gently, slowly, holding back for the moment.
“Me neither,” she said. “Stay inside me forever.”
And somehow, she felt that he would. If only in spirit, he was hers now. And she his.
His eyes never left hers as his movements quickened, the force of his thrusts growing as his gentleness crescendoed to aggression. Her fingertips were digging into him now, grating at his flesh. Leaving her mark.
A determined jaw signalled her that he was close, that he would soon let himself loose for her. This beautiful silver dragon-man would explode inside her. And she’d never wanted anything so much in her life.
When it happened, she watched his face as heat shot through both of them at once. She wanted to see him in that moment of pure weakness; that moment when she felt strongest. He was at her mercy, his body giving over its strength and power to hers, allowing his own vulnerability to be his greatest gift.
Before he collapsed he kissed her once again, his lips so tender, so gentle on hers, issuing a promise. A loving gesture that said, “This isn’t the last you’ll see of me.”
“Merry Christmas, Micah Drake,” she said. “Though it’s you who have given me the best gift I could ever imagine.”
“Merry Christmas, Kiara. My Kiara. My light in dark times.” He pushed himself up a little and looked into her eyes. “You who have saved me.”
Before long, they would leave this room and tend to the wounded. But in that moment they were gifts, unwrapped, given wholly to one another. She had rescued him, just as he had rescued so many others.
The End
About Carina Wilder
Carina Wilder is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Sought by the Alphas, Seeking Her Mates, Seekers and Wolf Rock Shifters Series. She writes about strong, sassy women and the men who love them (and who happen to turn into raging beasts on occasion). www.carinawilder.com
Hunted by Chloe Cole
New England Nightwalkers, Volume One
Librarian by day, vampire hunter by night...
Bookish librarian, Zara Matheson, is living a double life. By day, she catalogues and indexes books, but by night, she hunts the undead. She knows in her heart that one of those elusive monsters is responsible for her father’s grisly murder, and she won’t stop until she proves it. But when her latest attempt is cut short after she mows down a gorgeous stranger with her car, she starts to wonder if maybe she’s gone off the deep end…
When Gabriel Thorne is called on to protect his brethren from a potential vampire hunter, he expects it to be just another day filled with blood and violence in his all-too-long life. But when he meets compelling, angel-faced Zara Matheson, he can’t deny an instant, all-consuming attraction to her. Is she really a harmless librarian grasping at straws, or will she turn out to be the most dangerous opponent he’s ever encountered?
1
“A female? Come on, boss. Tell me you’re not serious.”
Gabriel stared at Irena for a long moment, waiting to see if she was about to crack a laugh and tell him she was pulling his leg.
Instead, her sherry-colored eyes narrowed and she leaned forward over her massive desk.
“Do you have a problem with that, Gabriel? Maybe you think women are incapable of being a danger to our kind? Unworthy of your attention?”
He blew out a long sigh and settled heavily back against the chair across from her.
“Nope. You know that’s not it, so don’t pull that shit with me.”
Irena had been running the show since he had been recruited to The Protectorate fifty years before, and she was a killing machine. One of the most lethal vampires since her creator, Ezekiel. She was tough enough to be both the problem and the solution in almost any circumstance, so her irritation at the idea that he wasn’t taking this new threat seriously was understandable. But, while she was wrong in her assumption of the why’s of it, she was dead right on the rest. He wanted no part of this.
“Let one of the others handle her. You know I’m not good at women.” He shifted restlessly. “They think I’m mean.”
He didn’t blame them much for that.
He was mean.
Or, as mean as he had to be to offset the curse of uncanny animal magnetism that came along with being a vampire. Unfortunately, between his “back the eff up” vibe and his menacing size, it wasn’t exactly easy to get close to people he was asked to reconnoiter even when they were men. Women were nearly impossible.
He tried to placate her with a compromise. “Look, maybe there’s no need for up close and personal anyway. I can run surveillance from afar and get you the information you need.” Because it was almost certainly a false alarm anyway. Just like the past five had been.
Irena had been slipping deeper and deeper into paranoia and, while he felt terrible that she was struggling, he didn’t want to give her more rope to hang herself. The other Protectors were watching very closely, and there were already whispers of a potential coup. If this was another wild good chase, those whispers would soon become cries for her head on the proverbial chopping block.
Irena might not be a perfect leader, but she was a damn sight better than most of the alternatives, and he would hate to see her lose everything she’d worked so hard for. Especially now, when it was all she had left.
Unfortunately, she wasn’t going to budge on this. He could see it in her eyes.
“Nope.” She shook her head briskly. “We’ve already had someone on her from afar for almost a week and, as of this morning, we’ve got nothing. I have a feeling about this one. We need to get an operative in close.” She blew out a sigh and set her elbows on the desk like she was going to start spitting unwelcome truths at him, and he tensed in preparation. “Look, Gabriel, I know you don’t like it, but maybe it’s time to—”
He hel
d up a hand to shut her down before she even finished. “I’m not doing it. I know what you’re going to say, and I’m telling you right now, it’s not happening.”
She went quiet for a long moment and then shrugged as her eyes went hard. “Well, luckily for me, I’m the boss, and you don’t get to make those decisions. So consider this a direct order,” she said, leaning back and tossing her inky black hair over one shoulder. “I wish it didn’t have to be this way. I think you’re one of the most honorable of our kind. But I need someone I can trust to handle this as quickly and carefully as possible. You don’t have to screw her. Just pour a little of the charm on and get some answers for me, yes?”
She laid her elegant fingers on the manila file between them and slid it toward him but didn’t release it right away.
“This is the only time I will ever ask this of you. I swear it. Just something about her…I can’t let it go. Not yet.” Her tone had gone reedy and the desperation on her face was like a punch in the chest. “If you do this and find she’s clean, I’ll take a step back. Reevaluate what I’m doing, okay? But we’ve got to do this first.” She tapped her index finger on the file between them. “For me.”
He hated to disappoint her, but damn, his guts were churning already.
He pushed aside the sense of foreboding and gave his boss a curt nod. She’d been through enough in the past few months. Besides, she was right. They both knew she didn’t have to ask. Unless he wanted to find himself out of the loop altogether, he was going to have to figure out a way to get her what she needed.
Because him out of the loop was out of the question. It would mean a bunch of bloodsuckers unburdened by conscience in power with one less vampire who still had some humanity left in him to balance the scales. And the only thing more sickening than the thought of what Irena was asking him to do was the thought of that.
