Dark Alpha's Lover

by Donna Grant

  And yet, she knew he was good. Not only because he’d sought to help her. Because she saw it in his eyes.

  She leaned close and pressed her lips over his heart. When she looked up at him, his red-rimmed, white eyes were locked on her.

  Cat smiled and took a step back out of his grasp. Never taking her eyes from him, she slipped the slim straps of her gown over her shoulders and pushed it down her hips so that it puddled on the floor around her feet.

  She stood still as he leisurely raked his eyes over her. His chest rumbled with a groan as her nipples hardened beneath his gaze.

  It was beyond her comprehension that anyone would chose to ignore or turn away in disgust from such a man. He stirred her blood like no other. With him, the future didn’t look so bleak—or lonely.

  He closed the distance between them and tenderly placed his hands on her shoulders. His palms skimmed down her arms before resting on her hips. Then he moved his hands upward into the indent of her waist and then higher to her breasts.

  His fingers caressed the outside of her breasts several times before lowering back down to her hips and around to her bottom.

  One of his large hands cupped her butt and brought her against him. The feel of his thick arousal pressing into her stomach made her mouth go dry.

  His other hand slid softly against her neck before moving around to the back. Her head dropped back. She felt his eyes on her, and her body responded shamelessly.

  Her breasts ached for his touch. They swelled in anticipation when she felt his breath brush her skin. But he didn’t touch her.

  Instead, he brought his mouth close to her ear and said, “I want three things from you. To touch you. To taste you. To be inside you.”

  Chills raced over her skin at the seductive words mixed with his sexy timbre. “Yes,” she said breathlessly.

  In the next instant, they were lying atop her bed, and Fintan no longer wore any clothes. She widened her legs so he could settle between them, and his weight caused her sex to clench eagerly.

  Her hands ran up his back, feeling the muscles beneath her palms. She couldn’t stop touching him. He was perfection in every way. From the way he looked at her as if she were a goddess to how he made her feel like said goddess.

  She’d never felt so beautiful or desired. The hunger, the longing was in his gaze and the way he touched her. She couldn’t catch her breath. Desire encircled them, bound them. It was red-hot, causing her to feel feverish and needy.

  Unable to stand it a moment longer, Cat rolled him onto his back and came up on her knees as she straddled his hips. White eyes watched her curiously, hopefully. Her heart hurt for that small bit of yearning she saw, and it made her want to seek out everyone who had dared to hurt him so she could return the favor.

  She took his cock in hand and stroked up the length. He groaned loudly. Wanting him to experience as much pleasure as possible, she scooted back and bent over until her mouth was even with him.

  Then she brought the thick head of his arousal to her mouth. She watched his face, noticed the way he stopped breathing. She pressed her tongue to him and parted her lips, taking him into her mouth.

  He mumbled something under his breath as his head fell back, and his hands clenched the comforter. Cat inwardly smiled. She took him deep into her mouth as she continued to stroke him.

  His breathing grew harsh and loud. She continued licking and sucking him before cupping his ball sac. A low groan passed his lips before he whispered her name in a voice laced with desire and need.

  And it caused her stomach to clench in longing.

  “I need to feel your body around me,” he ground out.

  She looked up at him and saw that he was barely holding onto his control. Cat gave his glorious cock one more suck before she brought him to her entrance.

  His eyes burned with desire, scorched her with hunger so great, she could feel it. Slowly, she lowered herself onto his rod, taking him in inch by inch as her body stretched to accommodate him.

  By the time she was fully seated, she was breathing heavily. His hands came to rest on her hips, and she slowly rotated them. His fingers dug into her. She flattened her hands on his chest and rocked back and forth.

  As she rode him, his hands moved upward until he finally cupped her breasts fully. He massaged them, learning the feel before he ran a thumb over a nipple.

  The pleasure that went through her was so great that she stopped moving, her breath locked in her chest. There was a smile on his lips as he rolled a nipple between his fingers.

  It wasn’t long before both of his fingers were teasing the tight buds. Then he sat up and wrapped his lips around one turgid peak. His tongue danced around her nipple before he suckled it.

  Her arms went around his neck, her fingers into his hair as she held onto him while experiencing such heady delights. As he moved from one breast to the other, she once more began rocking her hips back and forth.

  And then suddenly she was on her back, and he loomed over her. She moaned when he pulled out of her until only the head remained, and then he thrust, deeply.

  * * *

  Desire knotted and tightened within her, propelling her toward the pleasure that awaited. With every pump of his hips, he was pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

  She wrapped her legs around him and lifted her hips to meet each of his thrusts. His rhythm quickened. Their bodies now slick with a fine sheen of sweat glided against each other sensuously.

  He thrust harder, deeper. She held onto him as their wild, fiery ride bound their bodies, their souls—and their hearts.

  Even as it was happening, she couldn’t stop it. Nor did she want to. From the moment she’d seen Fintan, she’d known there was something different about him.

  And she’d wanted him.

  She looked into his eyes as she felt her orgasm building. Their gazes held as he swept her up and over the pinnacle. She cried out as her body convulsed from the force of the climax. It sent her soaring, floating in ecstasy.

  A heartbeat later, he cried out her name before his orgasm claimed him. She held him as he gave a final thrust to bury himself within.

  Locked in each other’s arms, they soaked in the bliss of their union. They remained that way for a time. She kept touching him, caressing him. She wasn’t sure if it was too much, but since he didn’t pull away, she hoped it meant he enjoyed it.

  “I should take you away,” Fintan said as he rolled them to the side.

  She actually considered it, and the relief of finally being out of danger was appealing. Then she recalled what was at stake for everyone. “We should finish what we began.”

  “We don’t know what Bran wants with you.”

  “And we won’t unless we stay.”

  He sighed loudly. “I don’t like it. Any of it.”

  “We know he wants me for something. That’s to our advantage.”

  “Is it?” he asked as he looked at her. “Right now, all the odds are in his favor.”

  She smiled at him. “Then we turn some of them our way.”

  “How do you propose we do that?”

  “I was hoping you might know,” she teased.

  There was the beginning of a smile on his lips. “My plan was to lure him out into the open and kill him.”

  “That could still work.”

  “How so?”

  She rose up on her elbow and smoothed his white hair away from his face. “He doesn’t want to kill me. That means he’ll approach me again and attempt to sway me to his side. You’ll still be using me as bait, just in a different way.”

  “Bran will expect us to do just that.”

  “Then we use a different way to kill him. Instead of you, I’ll do it.”

  Fintan sat up, shaking his head. “Absolutely not.”

  “He won’t expect that.”

  “You don’t know what it is to take someone’s life. You don’t know the toll it takes.”

  She raised a brow and glared at him. “Really? Did
I not kill a Dark today? Isn’t that essentially what Bran is, a Fae?”

  “It’s not the same thing,” Fintan said and ran a hand down his face.

  “It certainly is.”

  His lips flattened. “This afternoon, you were in the midst of a battle and fighting for your life. It was self-defense. If you kill Bran, it’ll be murder.”

  “I don’t consider it that. I see it as taking out a great evil that has to be stopped.”

  “No.”

  “Then come up with a different way that Bran won’t suggest,” she stated.

  Fintan lay back and pulled her with him. “I will.”

  “I can do this,” she said after a moment of silence.

  “I know, but killing will change you. Trust me on this.”

  “It didn’t change you inside, only your appearance.”

  “Not true. The darkness took me quickly and easily. I gave in to it, delighted in it. Then, one day, I didn’t recognize the face staring back at me in the mirror.”

  She touched his long, white hair. “Because of this?”

  “Because I was everything I despised. I killed so many that there isn’t a shred of black in my hair anymore. Not to mention the red faded from my eyes as well. The only way I survived was by turning off every emotion I had. I buried them so deep, that they’d never come to the surface again.”

  That was the Fae she’d glimpsed that first night, the assassin. But the Dark before her now was someone completely different. There were emotions within him. She could see them, feel them.

  “Then I met you,” he said.

  She touched his face, smiling.

  His hand covered hers and lowered it between them. “These . . . feelings . . . could end up costing you your life.”

  “I’ve lived with that fear every day since my siblings were killed.”

  “But I’m here to protect you.”

  She put a finger to his lips. “Stop overthinking this. Enjoy this interlude we’ve gotten, because it might not come again.”

  The muscle tightening in his jaw told her he was doing anything but enjoying their time together. His mind was on overload, and she couldn’t imagine what he was thinking or feeling.

  How long had it been since he’d buried his emotions? He hadn’t turned them all off. His morality was still in place, and so was his need to protect. And there was no denying his enjoyment in killing Dark.

  It was all the other emotions—desire, yearning, lust, and pleasure—he didn’t know how to handle. And she could feel him shutting them down even as they lay locked in each other’s arms.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Fintan jerked upright when something passed near Cat’s window. He looked outside but couldn’t see anything.

  “What is it?” she asked sleepily.

  He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. With only a thought, his clothes were back in place. “I don’t know.”

  “Wait,” she called and hurried after him, tugging on a robe as she did.

  Fintan didn’t slow until he reached the main living area. He was about to look through the closed curtains when someone pounded on the door.

  He turned to Cat, who looked at the door with a mixture of alarm and worry. She glanced his way before she headed to the entrance and looked through the peephole. “It’s the Gardaí.”

  An Garda Síochána was the police force headed by the Garda Commissioner. Fintan should’ve realized they’d be by to talk to Cat about the fire at the café, as well as her grandfather’s death.

  “Answer it,” Fintan told her. “I’ll be right here, only veiled.”

  When she gave a nod, he concealed himself and moved to a far corner so there was no chance anyone would bump into him. Cat then took a deep breath and unlocked the door before opening it.

  “Morning, Ms. Hayes,” said a male voice. “I’m Detective Sergeant Carmody. I’d like to talk to you about the incidents yesterday.”

  Cat stepped back and allowed him inside. “Sure.”

  Fintan watched as a man in his late forties walked into the house. Carmody’s gaze moved around, taking everything in. Fintan stared at the Sergeant with his blond hair and dark eyes trying to determine if it was Bran using glamour, but Fintan could find nothing. That didn’t mean Bran wasn’t responsible for sending the man.

  Or was Fintan looking for things that weren’t there?

  Before he met Cat, he would’ve had no problem determining if Carmody were connected to Bran. Now, he couldn’t see through the fog of emotions that filled his brain.

  And he hated it.

  “Can I get you a cup of tea?” Cat asked.

  The Sergeant gave a shake of his head. “No, thanks.”

  “Please sit,” she said as she tucked a leg and took one corner of the sofa.

  Carmody chose a chair and gave her a polite—if forced—smile. “I’m sorry about the loss of your grandfather. I know you’re grieving, but I must ask you some questions.”

  “Of course.” Cat clasped her hands in her lap and kept her gaze on the Sergeant.

  Her shoulders were tense, and Fintan had the insane urge to touch her to let her know he was there. But he held himself in check.

  What is fekking wrong with me?

  “Ms. Hayes, where were you when the café fire began?” Carmody asked as he took out a small notebook and a pen.

  She swallowed and said in a clear voice, “Right here in my house. I’m sure if you check with the owner of the shop next to my café, Norene, she’ll confirm that she called me. I’m also sure you can check the mobile phone records, which will show my location.”

  “You act as if you have something to hide.”

  “I’m merely pointing out the facts to hurry along this process. The café is my livelihood. Without it, I can’t pay my bills. So until the investigation is closed, my insurance won’t pay out so I can fix what happened.”

  “Do you know how the fire began?” he asked.

  Fintan moved closer and watched the Garda carefully as he jotted down notes—some relevant to his questioning, and some comments to himself about her answers.

  Carmody wasn’t accusing Cat, but there was something in the man’s dark eyes as he watched her, that set Fintan off.

  “A fire burned down my café,” Cat stated. “I don’t know how it started.”

  “We’re investigating that now. We should know something in a few weeks.”

  She gave a shake of her head, anger spiking her voice. “A few weeks? You can’t be serious.”

  “These things take time, Ms. Hayes.”

  “It took the Garda office three days to rule on a business fire last year.”

  Carmody’s lips twisted as he shrugged. “I don’t make the rules, miss. Do you know anyone who would want to harm you?”

  “No,” Cat said and blew out a breath. She braced her elbow on the arm of the sofa and propped her fist against her temple.

  Fintan frowned when he saw the word frustrated was circled several times. There was a question mark beside the word innocent.

  But it was the knowledgeable about phone tracing with an asterisk next to it that caused a spike of fury to flash through Fintan. How dare Carmody think Cat manipulated events to suit her purpose?

  Carmody coughed softly. “Did you set the fire to claim the insurance money?”

  For long seconds, Cat merely stared at him. Then she got to her feet with irritation flaring in the emerald depths of her eyes. “No. Would you like to look at my books to make sure I was in the black? I’ll be happy to hand them over to prove my innocence if it will take me off your suspect list.”

  “Ms. Hayes, you need to understand that it wasn’t just the fire at the café. Your grandfather’s body was burned, as well. There’s a connection there, and I aim to find it.”

  Fintan knew the correlation: Bran. But it wasn’t as if Cat could tell the Garda that. Which left her looking like the prime suspect.

  “I know full well what occurred with my grandfathe
r. I’m the one who saw the smoke and went to him.”

  “With what?” Carmody asked. “Your vehicle was parked in the driveway.”

  Fintan fisted his hand. That was his fault. He was the one who’d teleported Cat to the beach. If only he’d have thought things through, he would’ve known she needed her car. But he’d only wanted to help her. So he’d acted rashly.

  That never happened.

  Now, his thoughtlessness might very well ruin things for her.

  “I’d needed to walk to clear my head after the café fire,” Cat said. “I headed to his cottage. Halfway there, I saw the smoke and ran the rest of the way. Of course, I didn’t have my car.”

  Carmody nodded. “What did you find when you reached your grandfather’s?”

  “I already went over this yesterday,” she stated irritably.

  “I need you to do it again.”

  While Fintan listened to Cat explain finding the shed burning and then discovering her grandfather inside, he watched Carmody. It was clear that the Garda didn’t exactly believe Cat was a victim, but Carmody didn’t have any evidence to prove otherwise.

  “That matches your statement from yesterday,” Carmody said as he stood. “That’s all I need.”

  While Cat walked him to the door, Fintan looked through the slit in the curtains and spotted a Fae watching the house. The Dark had used glamour to alter her hair and eyes. When Carmody exited the house, the Dark vanished.

  “He thinks I did it,” Cat said as she shut and locked the door.

  Fintan dropped the veil. “With both events happening within hours of each other and both connected to you, it only seems natural. Yet there is no evidence against you.”

  “That we know of,” she said crossly. “For all we know, Bran is planting evidence now.”

  He followed her to the bedroom. “If Bran wants you on his side, I doubt he’d take the time to put you in the crosshairs of the Garda.”

  “Why not? Then he could get me out. That’s what I’d do,” she said and peeled off the robe.

  The sight of her naked body made his balls tighten. Her pale skin and pink nipples had him aching to be inside her once more, to feel the profound and exquisite pleasure she’d shown him.

  In one night, he’d experienced more bliss than the whole of his life. She’d freely and willingly touched him, caressed him. Learned him. She’d given herself to him. And in doing so, she’d shown him sensual decadence that was now branded upon his soul.