Dark Moon: Fae/witch paranormal romance (Hells Gate Book 1)

by Terina Adams

  He lowered his lips to her shoulder and gave a couple of gentle nips then released her and began fiddling with something behind him. He began running his hands through her hair, gathering it all up in a bundle on her head as he lathered shampoo over the heavy tangled mess. His hands were strong, and he worked them through every strand. Selene let out a moan-sigh a couple of times to let him know how much she was enjoying it. When he told her to rinse of the suds, she made a little protest sound.

  The soft sensation of conditioner came next, and again he expertly massaged it through, taking time to coat the tangles. Once that was washed off, Selene held her breath waiting to see what he would do next. He reached around her for the taps and turned them off. She spun in the small space created by the shower wall and his body, looking up into his eyes.

  “Bed, little witch.”

  17

  Locke trailed his hand down the column between her breasts to her belly button, circling with one finger, feather light, tickling her stud.

  “This is an unexpected surprise.” He fiddled with the silver pendant resting in the dip. He leaned in close to view the minute image on the front.

  “Goddess Selene riding her chariot.”

  “Of course.” Since his face was already close, he ran his tongue in a line across to her left hip. “And this?”

  “The triple aspect of the moon.”

  He nipped her once on the hip over the tattoo, which made her laugh. “Waxing, full and waning. See I know my stuff.”

  “Which also symbolizes the maiden, mother and crone, all within one.”

  “Maiden. I like. Mother. Hmm…Old crone—”

  She slapped him on the arm. “Hey, it’s the representation, birth, youth, enchantment, to sexuality, fertility, stability, finally, wisdom, endings, and well, death.”

  “Yeah, see, I’ll skip the crone.”

  “But you can’t have wisdom without it.”

  “Wisdom’s overrated.”

  He moved his lips from the tattoo up to the bullet wound.

  “It’s so faint now.”

  Selene looked to the ceiling, bringing her hands up to rest across her chest as if in prayer. “Thank you, Hades.”

  “I’m not the praying type, not even to the devil, but I’d give the guy a beer if we met.”

  “You can thank him for our meeting. The only reason I had the spunk to enter Hells Gate was because I called upon his power to enhance my own. I wouldn’t have gone otherwise.”

  “I’ll give him a scotch as well. But I couldn’t give a shit about him right now.”

  “And what about this?” She ran her hand over the tattoo on his chest.

  “Each club member has one. It's a symbol of our subjugation—forever bound to this mortal realm—and a symbol of our freedom—the darkness that unties us, the power from below unfurling to sever the chains of bondage.” He traced along the tattoo with his finger, mapping each aspect of it as he spoke.

  He rolled over on top of her and leaned down, so his face hovered inches above hers. “The only thing I do give a shit about is you.” Before she could say anything he sealed her lips with his. She responded the way he hoped, giving him the red light to explore further. She moaned, which reverberated inside his mouth, making his cock jerk in response. Something inside of him snapped, unleashing his restraint. His kiss became demanding. He devoured her and still couldn’t get enough. Another moan escaped, only this time it was his.

  Despite the testosterone rampaging free, he managed to gain control of his actions and lifted his head. He had something to say. His timing was way off, but he didn't have the patience to find out why, not now.

  “I know we don’t operate the way you like, but it’s how we do things, and I can’t change that. I’m Fae, and those guys are my family. I would never desert them, nor would I betray them.”

  Selene was silent a moment, her brow creasing fractionally. “I understand. I feel the same way about my coven.”

  “It means that if you and I are going to have anything together, you’re going to have to accept me for who I am. I’m not asking you to condone our actions, or to play a part, but you have to accept this is my life and the club is my family. I vow I won’t bring Fae business into our relationship.” He ducked his head a moment, trying to find the right words. What he had to say next could not be said in any other way that would make her like it, so he said it the way he knew how. With honesty. “I vow never to reveal the location of the girl. That’s a betrayal to my family.”

  He looked into her blue eyes, across her beautiful face, following the line of her beautiful lips and knew it would hurt real bad if she wasn’t going to accept that, because if she didn’t, it would end them now. No matter how much pull he felt towards this woman, his loyalty was tight. He could never betray his family.

  She raised her hand and, using one finger, smoothed the crease in his brow. The one he was unaware he was carrying.

  “I thought I’d never say this, but I understand. My coven comes first. It always has. My grandmother schooled me the right way to make sure I would never fail in my duty. Sometimes I think it has hindered my life, sometimes I’ve felt resentful for the burden placed on me. But now I’m High Priestess, I don’t get to choose another way. Too much depends on me. So, Locke of the Fae, I know what duty means, and I understand what you say. But this is my vow. I will never stop looking for that girl.”

  “I accept that. And I vow not to stand in your way if you find her.”

  “What does this confession mean for us?”

  “It means I want there to be more between you and me. I don’t know what’s going on here, Selene. This is about as close to who I thought I was to me becoming a priest and delivering the Eucharist. All I can say is you’re addictive. I can’t explain it any more than that. Nor can I explain what’s happening inside me. It’s alien to me, but I can’t stop it. What’s even weirder, is I don’t want to. I’m hoping that we can find a path we’re both comfortable being on, one that keeps us close without compromising who we are. Do you think that’s possible?”

  “Yes, I think it’s possible, because I want it too.” She laughed a little. “God, I’m as surprised as you. If you were to ask any of my sisters if this would happen, they would laugh in your face. I think they’ll be convinced you’re playing mind games with me.”

  “They’re not my concern.”

  He kissed her again. This time something else infused his passion. If he could, he would’ve turned away from the feeling, would’ve left her there and bolted as far as possible. He couldn’t. She’d done it to him again, bound him. Only this time she was unaware, and as before, he was helpless.

  With one leg he nudged her thigh and she responded by moving both wide, at the same time breaking their kiss.

  “Um…I’ve just got to ask. Since you’ve experienced a lot of ladies…I was kind of wondering if we needed to use something.”

  He smiled at her attempt at being delicate. “We’re immune to anything humans carry.”

  “Oh. Handy.”

  “Anything else?”

  “I’m on the pill.”

  He nodded. “I think we’ve chatted too much.”

  To cement his believe he kissed her with all the passion he had, brewed for the last few days and now weighing heavy in his groin. She responded with an intensity to rival his, wrapping her arms around his back and her legs around his waist, placing herself in the right position. Locke wasn’t ready to take the advantage. His body screamed for completion of the one thing that had driven his dreams, day and night, since being fed her mental pornography, his mind, or the frustrating little emotion rearing its influence, attempted to plug the damn of his desire, hoping to build their intimacy slowly.

  He gently broke the kiss, tracing her lower lip with his tongue before running it down her chin. She arched her neck, allowing him to follow his intended line down her throat to the soft skin at the nape of her neck. The skin was damp from her hair with a hint of cit
rus from the soap. He nipped her a few times before licking his way further below.

  She moaned and moved under him with all the signals of a woman perched on the cusp of her ecstasy, ready to fire at any moment. She’d positioned herself perfectly for him to sink home, yet, he took the time to savor other parts of her body. When a woman signaled her readiness so openly, he usually obliged straight away. There was always after-play to explore. However, with Selene, he wanted to take all day. He wanted to hear all those sexy words she’d promised him in his head and taste every inch of her body first before he claimed her. That was why he licked a trail down to her breasts with the intent of showing them plenty of adoration.

  “Locke,” she whispered his name—very sexy. “Come on baby, let’s do it now.”

  That little demand sparked his cock. “I’m not done with the other parts of you yet.”

  “Huh.” She lifted her head off the bed and looked down at him, flushed, lips red with heat.

  “You need to come at least once before I’m ready.”

  She thumped her head back onto the pillow and grabbed his ass with her hands. “Is that so?” In one swift movement she pulled his butt cheeks forward, while lifting her ass off the bed, sinking him deep inside.

  “I want you to go hard, or I’ll squeeze my vaginal muscles and lock you inside.”

  “That’s too hard a choice to make.”

  She used her hands to push his hips back then once again raised herself up and pulled him in tight.

  He moaned with the first thrust and took control from there. The little witch would get what she wanted. Only he planned to tease her orgasm out of her, using slow deep thrusts, until she synced with his rhythm, and pulled him down toward her so she could bite him on the shoulder. The sting ignited his pace, and she ignited too, matching him thrust for thrust.

  They moved in harmony until he felt her body begin to tremble. Her head arched back on the pillow, and she yelled the dirty words he wanted to hear, while jerking under him with explosive passion. He followed her lead, thrusting hard and deep three more times, emptying himself inside.

  He collapsed on top, and her legs flung around his waist again. She cradled him close, kissing his shoulder and licking the mark where she’d bit him. He rested his head on her chest and listened to the heavy beat of her heart. Not ready to withdraw or move away. He'd wanted this moment, and now it was over, he wanted it again. Laying here in her arms, with the warmth of her body, he was content, something he’d never experienced with any woman before.

  She was his now. There were many obstacles in their path, that didn’t matter. Their kinds were enemies, that didn’t matter. She sought to take the one thing that would bring them salvation, that didn’t matter.

  She mattered, and that was enough for him.

  Akasha

  I wake to the smell of coffee. The new dawn pokes around the side of the heavy curtains. The windows are barred, and it gives me a disjointed view of the forest outside and cements the knowledge of what I’ve become. The room’s comfortable but sparse, a dresser, a chair and the bed.

  At the foot of the bed, all my clothes hang in the wardrobe. They took me, the morning after my arrival, outside for sun and exercise, no doubt, like a jailed prisoner, which is what I am, and when I returned my clothes from home had appeared. Somewhat a relief, it meant they didn’t plan on killing me anytime soon. I also thought perhaps they planned to pimp me, but so far, and it’s been days, they’ve shown no interest in doing anything with me.

  I’m in the country somewhere. I’m allowed out twice daily, morning and afternoon to wander, stretch my legs or do whatever. A guy always comes with me, his eyes sticking to me like glue. His name’s Slade. He seems to be the one in charge, although he’s neither of the two who came for me.

  He never ventures far, choosing the bench seat and just sits, watching me. If I go beyond his invisible boundary, he calls me back. I wouldn’t dare test his speed against mine. He looks like he could sprint a few miles without raising his heart rate. And I hate to think what he would do if he caught me after my failed escape.

  It’s not always him, though. Sometimes it’s a woman with beautiful green eyes, his partner, Aspen. When they’re both here, she rarely looks anywhere else but at him, like an obsessive love, strangulating.

  He loves her. It’s plain to see. He’s considerate and patient with her, despite her fluctuating moods. If it was me, I would slap her, but then perhaps I’m biased against her because of the way she treats me. Her eyes shred me every time they look my way. I don’t understand her hatred. After all, this is not my choice. I didn’t ask to be brought here.

  She refuses to care for me in any way apart from babysitting me outside—I doubt she gets choice about that. It’s always him that gives me my food or escorts me to my shower, dutifully standing outside the door.

  In some ways I’m grateful to him, my captor. This place seems to be Slade’s and Aspen’s, but other men come through the day. I usually end up sharing the long dining table with a handful of others during dinner. All have, at sometime, looked at me with greedy eyes. But Slade always says a word and they look away. His watchful gaze follows me whenever I’m freed from my room, and I get the feeling it's as much about my safety as anything else. Safety from the other men, or Aspen.

  Yesterday at breakfast he placed a plastic bag on the table next to me. “You’ll be needing these at some point, I guess.” That’s all he said before disappearing out of the room. I looked in the bag and a flood of heat rushed to my cheeks. Inside were a few packets of tampons and sanitary pads. I wanted to shrink under the table. I hadn’t thought of that, but was washed with gratitude he had, or was it Aspen? It seems too unlikely. Did he make her go and get them or was he forced to do the task himself? I don’t know how I managed to find my humor, but I did, imagining him standing in the aisle of the supermarket unsure of his selection amongst the huge variety.

  I open the curtains and looked out at the view, trees as far as I can see. All I remember from the other night was their arrival. Some hazy bits about me running down corridors unable to find my way clear surface every so often. The next memory is waking on a bed with black sheets. The place had the feel of a brothel with fantasy rooms for the clientele. I was in the dungeon. Not only were the sheets black, the walls were plastered to look like rock and Dom's equipment hung from a rack on the ceiling. That’s when I thought I’d gone to hell and been made a prostitute. But Aspen appeared, lasering me with her eyes, even back then. I was given a drink, something to eat, then blacked out again. Only to end up here. At least there were no whips in sight.

  I sit on my bed and reach for my coffee. Slade brings me a cup every morning. I knew it was him, because the other mornings I've been awake when he arrives. His care confuses me. I’ve been kidnapped, and I’ve never read a happy tale where the person's kidnapped for good reasons. Yet, the guy protects me and feeds me well, even considers my personal hygiene. He doesn’t say much to me, but when he does, his words are never harsh or threatening, even when he calls me back after I’ve wander too far when outside. It’s more a gentle warning.

  Every day I relax more when I see him. I’m here for a reason, but it's got nothing to do with murder or the sex industry, and I can’t think of anything else worse then those two outcomes.

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  Renee Snow & Terina Adams

  About Renee Snow

  For as long as she can remember, bringing characters to life has been a passion of Renee’s. Prior to writing novels, Renee scripted plays to star in alongside her sister before moving on to more serious productions in theatre, film, and television.

  By day she works as a phlebotomist, fondly referred to as a vampire by her patients. By night she creates chilling contemporary & paranormal romanc
es long past the witching hour.

  Cocktails, chocolate, and Italian cuisine are her weaknesses. Dancing to her own tune and having fun are her strengths.

  The highlights of her life are her four children, two grandsons, & the hero of her own story.

  Become a Snow Angel to be one of the first to know about book releases and author updates.

  About Terina Adams

  When I wasn’t riding a camel through the Rajasthani desert, white water rafting the rapids on the Zambezi, bungee jumping off the Victoria Falls bridge or hiking the peeks in Pakistan, I was piloting a twin prop into remote aboriginal communities in northern Western Australia or staring down a microscope in a laboratory.

  Now somewhat tamed, the microscope has morphed into a computer and I spend more time plotting dire situations for my protagonists than being in them myself.

  I am the author of books that won’t stay normal.

  Also by Renee Snow

  Paranormal Romance

  The Dreamweaver Series

  Dark Angel

  Fallen Angel

  Red Rum Academy

  Hunter

  Contemporary Romance

  Pathways

  Just Swipe Right

  Fake it ’til you make it

  Mystic Cove

  Highfliers

  Opposites Attract

  Rustic Charm

  Also by Terina Adams

  Dominus Series

  Dominus

  Califax

  The Broken Kingdom series

  The King’s Marked

  The Wraith’s Rising