Vermilion Lies

by L. D. Rose

  Her pleasure heightened and she writhed beneath him as he worked her to a fever pitch. Drawing her hand from his mouth, he noticed her battered knuckles, red and abraded from punching the Everlast without protection.

  His shiny lips curved slowly, erotically as he kissed each tender bone. “Don’t hit it hard,” he murmured, examining her wounds. “Hit it right.”

  He suddenly flipped her on her belly, emptying her just as her accelerating climax peaked. “Dax!” she objected, her voice muffled by the sheets, but he snatched up her hips and lifted them, propping her on her spread knees.

  She attempted to brace herself on her arms, but he bent over her body, his warm skin brushing hers as he gently pressed her head back down on the mattress. “Stay,” he whispered, stroking her hair back before he planted soft, shiver-inducing kisses down her spine.

  When he drew away, she trembled with anticipation, her body totally and utterly served up to him. No one had ever treated her like this before, prioritizing her needs first and teasing her the way he did. She sensed him crouch behind her as his hands gripped her rear and opened her wide.

  Then he licked her from behind.

  She yelped, nearly collapsing, the carnal sound unrecognizable even to her own ears, but he held her up while his tongue worked its magic. He lapped, sucked, and penetrated her with ruthless skill, pushing her to the brink of sanity. Her hands balled in the sheets as his fangs grazed her delicate skin, that piercing eroding her into a wriggling, whimpering thing, and she stuffed her moans in the mattress, buried under an avalanche of ecstasy. No matter how much she thrashed and bucked, he pinned her in place, leaving her no choice but to ride him higher and higher.

  And when he pressed a thumb to her throbbing clit, drawing slow, easy circles while his tongue delved inside her, orgasm bloomed in her core and rocketed up her spine.

  He consumed everything she gave him, just like she’d asked, while her mind soared with rapture. He didn’t stop until she begged and shook, then he hardly gave her enough time to float back down before he pulled away, kissing her aching flesh once more as he straightened behind her.

  In a single fluid motion, his cock surged inside her, tearing guttural moans from both of their throats.

  Oh my God.

  He stretched her to capacity, metal striking deep, before he slid back out and thrust again. “Oh, fuck,” he groaned as he pumped into her over and over.

  Pleasure rocked her with every blow. He gripped her hips hard, as if struggling for control, before he bunched a hand in her hair and tugged her head up. Dragging her almost upright, he leaned into her ear while she braced on her wobbly arms, drunk on the waves of ecstasy crashing over her.

  “Open your eyes,” he panted, and she did, her lids cracking to slits. She blinked in an attempt to clear the haze, instantly captivated by the sight of their sun-drenched reflections staring back at her.

  Dax smiled with pure male satisfaction when their eyes connected in the floor-to-ceiling mirror. He straightened, his magnificent body moving hypnotically behind her. They were both glistening with a fine sheen of sweat, hair tousled and in disarray, their mouths both wet and swollen. Her breasts heaved with every punctuated thrust, but she didn’t look at herself for long, instead mesmerized by the vision of him taking her with unrelenting abandon.

  He picked up the pace, ratcheting up the heat that lashed at her while she watched their sensual dance. Pressure built in her core again, moan after moan escaping her, his indigo eyes absorbing her every expression. She slipped her hand between her legs, her trembling fingers skimming along his shaft, his flesh so hard and soaking wet. He glanced down, biting his lower lip, then regarded her in the mirror again, his look scorching hot.

  And like pushing a button, she careened into bliss, her sheath contracting around him and milking him until he groaned.

  Yet he didn’t climax, and she reached back farther, clutching his wet sac and pulling on him with every pound of his hips.

  His breath hitched and his jaw loosened as his head fell back, the vessels in his throat standing out in sharp relief. Her mouth watered as his body stiffened, fucking her even faster, and she nearly shattered again. She didn’t let go, fueled by the erotic visual, and she reared back against him, meeting him strike for strike. Massaging his sac, she tugged on him again, massaged, tugged, and he hissed a sensual curse as his eyes squeezed shut.

  “Harder, baby.” His breath was choppy, his words raw, every gorgeous muscle tense and on the verge of release. “Pull harder.”

  She pulled harder.

  And he detonated.

  His bellow echoed through her very bones, his thrusts relentless and punishing, but she reveled in every moment of it as he came undone in the mirror. His hips slowed their rhythm as he emptied himself inside her, his skin shining in the light, his lungs struggling to catch breath. When their gazes met in their reflections, his beautiful blue eyes had been engulfed by endless black, the tips of his white fangs emerging from behind his parted lips.

  Now it was her turn to smile.

  She rose up, a little unsteady and a lot weak, leaning back against him. With their bodies still locked, he cupped her breasts, her flesh overflowing his palms as she tilted her head, exposing the long, vulnerable line of her throat. He sighed, his breath caressing her skin, his obsidian eyes never leaving hers for an instant. She watched him kiss her neck, tonguing her rapid pulse, the piercings in both his lip and mouth sparking in the mirror. Dropping his tattooed hands away from her chest, LOVE grasped her jaw and PAIN eased between her legs, rubbing her swollen clit. His cock was still rock-hard as he delved deeper inside her, securing his hold on her, her eyes drifting closed as she moaned with surrender.

  His lips feathered the shell of her ear before he murmured, “You’re mine.”

  And she opened her eyes as his jaw unhinged, baring those wicked fangs before he sank them into her jugular.

  Pain ripped into her nervous system, followed quickly by pleasure, then pain, pleasure, until she couldn’t decipher one from the other. Another orgasm barreled toward her as he drew on her hard, warm blood spilling down her pale skin in crimson streams. He sucked, slurped, swallowed, a muffled groan rumbling in his chest as he tugged her closer, melding their bodies together. While his throat worked and his fingers spun her into nirvana, she dissolved in his arms, drowning in the tide of sensation.

  Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that not only was this bond between them dangerous, it was unstoppable.

  And she would die for it.

  ~ ~ ~

  When Dax awoke from a deadened sleep, it was dusk.

  No dreams. No nightmares. Only sweet, black oblivion.

  He spooned Cindy beneath the blankets, her head tucked into the hollow of his throat, her sex snug against his thigh, his arm hugging her waist and her legs tangled with his. He stroked a hand along the curve of her hip and she nestled even closer, sighing with content. Combing his fingers through her silken hair, he pressed his lips to the back of her neck as she slumbered on, her breasts rising and falling beside his arm.

  Dax opened his eyes and waited for his vision to adjust, reminiscing on their unbelievable tryst. Just thinking about it revved him up again, the look on her face in the mirror, the way she clenched around him, how she submitted to him completely while he ate her alive.

  Oh, and he ate her. Like fucking cherry candy.

  Her moans were so loud, the entire neighborhood probably heard them, and he loved every second of it. She called his name again and again, the sounds indelibly etched into his brain, as he dragged her pleasure out for as long as possible. He breathed in her darkness, devoured every last inch of her, but it was only when her blood rushed into his mouth—rich, ripe, fucking divine—that he knew he was done for.

  All he needed was one taste and he was out of c
ontrol.

  Tightening his hold on her, he listened to their bodies, soft breaths, languid heartbeats, the ebb and flow of life coursing through their veins. They were entirely in tune with one another, their souls syncing only the way blood mates could, and he never felt anything more right in his life.

  Shit. If he lost her now, it would wreck him.

  And as he lay there in the quiet twilight, staring at the white silhouette of a crucifix stamped on the opposite wall, he vowed to protect her—this—at any cost.

  Even from his own brothers.

  Cindy stirred, inhaling deeply, a low purr vibrating from her chest. “You’re awake.”

  “Mmmm.” He rubbed her shoulder, met her seeking mouth with a kiss. “Only for a little while.”

  Her onyx eyes eased open as she turned toward him, her palm traveling down the plane of his belly, circling his abs before brushing against his straining erection. She smiled, slow, sexy, her hand wrapping around him.

  “What are you thinking about?” she whispered.

  He jerked in her grip, his breath hitching as she stroked him from tip to base. Fuck, she was as insatiable as him.

  And that was treacherous.

  “You.” He exhaled as she rose up over him like a gothic goddess in the dark. The blankets fell away from her as she mounted him, her free hand bracing on his pecs, right over his galloping heart. And it belonged to her now as she guided him inside her, sitting on him hard.

  God damn.

  He couldn’t suppress a groan as she started to ride him, tossing her head back, lips parted, grinding on him desperately as if she couldn’t get enough, would never get enough. And as he gripped her hips to meet her demands, a creak from the adjacent room hit his ears like a sonic boom, freezing him in place.

  Clamping a palm over her mouth, he stifled her gasp, and her eyes widened as she too ceased moving. He dropped his hand away as they stared at each other in the gloom, both panting and listening intently. When a weight landed on the edge of the mattress, she yelped and leapt off him while he snatched his SIG off the nightstand, aiming it blindly at the corner of the bed.

  With his heart jackknifing behind his ribs, Dax barely discerned the black feline, the cat’s eyes flashing with their creepy chartreuse sheen.

  His jaw fell open. “Oscar? What the fuck—”

  Then boots stomped up the stairs from the basement, reverberating through the house.

  The little bastard scrammed while Cindy frantically concealed herself under the blankets. Dax hardly had time to grab his shirt off the floor and cover himself before Lawan was at the doorway, popping her head in and leaning on the jamb.

  Her sable eyes found him first, then Cindy, before settling back on him with her slender brows arched. Her lips twitched as she gave him a onceover.

  With his breath still shallow, Dax lowered the gun and cursed.

  “Frosty.” Her contralto held an obvious note of amusement. “I didn’t know you were here.”

  He scowled at her, careful not to move else he reveal his raging hard-on. “I’m going to kill that fucking cat.”

  “You and everyone else.” She grinned, enjoying this thoroughly as she glanced at Cindy. “Sorry. Oscar has a knack for escaping. And well, invading your privacy.”

  Cindy managed a smile, even though her face, neck, and arms were bright red. “It’s okay. Cats are curious, after all.”

  “That they are.” As if on cue, Oscar jumped into Lawan’s arms with a smug feline expression, sneering at Dax with triumph. “Carry on, then.” Lawan gestured with a wave, every muscle on her face trembling with the urge to laugh. Then another set of treads rapidly scaled the stairs, and Dax vehemently swore again, repositioning his shirt to give himself better coverage.

  Lawan tried to stop the Fed en route, but Dax figured Jon wouldn’t miss this opportunity for the world. He appeared in the doorway, fully armed and geared, donning a shit-eating grin as he braced on the frame.

  Letting out a wolf whistle, he waggled his brows. “Hey there, stud.”

  Cindy dropped her head in her hands, clearly embarrassed, as Lawan cackled from the other room.

  “Get. The fuck. Out of here.” Dax growled each word with the promise of serious injury.

  Jon flattened a hand across his chest with feigned innocence. “Are we interrupting something?”

  “JJ—” Dax hissed, nearly spitting venom.

  The Fed raised his hands in surrender, but he didn’t look the least bit guilty, practically crying with mirth. “All right, all right. But you’re with me tonight, hot rod, and I’m leaving in ten. So pick up your blue balls and get packing.” He blew him a kiss, pouring the humiliation on thick as Dax’s face flamed.

  Snatching the nearest pillow, Dax chucked it at the door, but Jon vanished, laughing with delight.

  “I cannot believe you!” Lawan reprimanded from the hallway, unable to contain her own glee as their laughter faded into the basement.

  Shaking his head, Dax was almost afraid to meet Cindy’s eyes, sensing her staring at him. But when he looked at her, she grinned, humor lighting her beautiful face.

  “I’m sorry,” he apologized, hoping she wasn’t too mortified. He threw his shirt aside, his erection long deflated, and sat at the edge of the bed, his back to her. “They’re just reaping their vengeance.”

  She crept over to him, resting her head between his shoulder blades as he clicked on the button for the floor lamp with his foot. Soft, golden light filled the room, chasing out the shadows and unveiling the ultimate irony spray-painted on the wall in front of him.

  And lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil.

  “Vengeance?” she asked, rubbing his back.

  “You don’t want to know how many times I’ve done that to them.” He chuckled. “Especially when we were renovating the church.”

  She smiled against his skin. “They seem happy.”

  Dax nodded in agreement, noting a book on the end table. Harry Potter? “You have no idea.”

  “I envy her,” Cindy admitted as he grabbed the tome off the shelf. “Her strength. Her attitude. She frightens me.”

  “Me too.” Dax laughed softly as he shifted toward her and she straightened, enfolding the sheet around her body as if she were suddenly ashamed of it—as if he hadn’t licked every square centimeter of that smooth, porcelain skin. “Law isn’t as scary as she looks. And she reads Harry Potter.” He tilted the book at her with a smirk. “Not very villainous.”

  Cindy bristled and it was adorable. “Lord Voldemort is quite the villain.”

  “I prefer A Game of Thrones. Now that’s villainy.”

  “I’ll have to read that one next.” She chuckled as he tucked her hair behind her ear, and for the first time, he noticed her roots. Pausing, he studied the haphazard part zigzagging across her scalp.

  Red. Holy shit. She was a redhead.

  She didn’t acknowledge his revelation as she flicked a finger at his nipple piercing, the bud hardening from the contact. “I wish I were stronger, like her. Braver.”

  Dax caressed her cheek, deciding not to bring up the past, filing his questions for later. “If you ask me, you’re more than strong and brave enough.”

  A faint curve of her lips, her gaze casting downward. “You’re leaving.” She made it a statement, not a question.

  Talk about changing the subject.

  He frowned, the memories of last night’s sweeps looming over his eyes, demons lying in wait. “Yeah.”

  “And you fight every night?”

  He nodded, sliding his hand behind her nape in a slow massage. Maybe if he kissed her, she would drop it. “Pretty much.”

  “And you might not return?” She stared at his lap a little too hard, her throat working.

&nb
sp; “I always do.” He lifted her jaw to meet his eyes, his thumb tracing the graceful curve of her chin. “But Alek’s forces—”

  She visibly flinched at the mention of that asshole’s name.

  Dax’s stomach flip-flopped. Shit. The last person he wanted her to think about was him. “The Temhota have been carrying out an offensive under his command. The sires all across the country are doing the same. Every Order is stretched thin, so we don’t have much time for anything else but fighting. Especially as of late.”

  She nodded tightly, remaining silent for a beat. When he kissed her forehead and stood, she spoke up.

  “I saw what happened last night. To you. I saw it when you fed from me.”

  He stilled, abruptly nailed to the floor by her words. Craning his head over his shoulder, all he could muster was, “What?”

  “Sometimes when I feed from someone, or when someone feeds from me, I see things about them. We all do . . . vampires do.” She cleared her throat, evidently uncomfortable with the confession. “Certain moments manifest, usually the most recent and memorable. You had many of them. Terrible ones.”

  Alarms blared from every recess in his skull and now it was his turn to look away as she ventured into unchartered territory. The idea that she’d witnessed any of what he’d endured last night twisted his gut into knots even he couldn’t untie.

  When he said nothing, she murmured, “I’m sorry, Dax—”

  “We’re not talking about this,” he cut her off, shutting it down.

  “Dax, look at me.”

  No. He wasn’t about to let her see the horror and shame in his eyes. Snatching his pants off the floor, he yanked them back on. “I’ve got to go.”

  “I want to tell you about him.” She raised her voice and he faltered with his shirt in hand. “Alek. Taylon. Jacques. All of them.”

  Pivoting, he stared at her, his chest aching at the heart-wrenching expression on her face.