Authors: Dark Seduction: The Kategan Alphas 5
T. A. Grey (17 page)
God, maybe he
was
letting her interfere with him.
A slash of movement in the forest caught his attention. Dmetri tensed. “Did you see that?”
Brayden’s answer was to slam both feet on the brake. He brought the SUV to a screeching stop of smoking rubber. They both jumped out of the car and were sprinting after the figure in the next second. They were only minutes from Kategan land and the sentries didn’t come out this far, whoever it was shouldn’t be here. God, he hoped it was Claude. He wanted a nasty fight and to bring in the bastard for the last time.
They ran hard, breaking through the trees and relying on their night vision to find the perpetrator. Damn, but he moved fast. Dmetri pushed his muscles until they burned, his lungs growing hot, his arms pumping fast. Brayden caught up to him.
“I’ll catch him from the side.” He ducked to the left and moved in a blur to corner the perp in.
Dmetri heard a soft sound, then the hard slam of bodies onto the ground. He mentally cursed himself that he hadn’t gotten there first; he wanted to be the one who finally brought down Claude. He ran by another dozen trees before he came upon them.
Brayden had the perp pinned to the ground with his knees digging into his back. Dmetri blinked, something was off. The figure was small and had long hair.
“Shit it’s not Claude.”
“I know,” Brayden said. The man’s eyes were bright, livid.
“Get the fuck off me you asshole!”
Dmetri blinked in surprise at the feminine voice and then started to laugh. The small figure below Brayden squirmed and struggled.
“Get off her. You can’t save her just to go hurting her now.” Brayden stood quickly, back straight, hands loose at his sides. Vanessa Kategan turned onto her back with a grimace, her face pinched in pain.
Dmetri knelt beside her. “You okay?”
She glared at him like he was the one who’d leaped on top of her. “No, I’m not okay. I was already sore from the...from the other day and now this asshole jumps on top of me. What the fuck?”
Shaking his head, he held his hand out to help her up. She grunted and when she stood, she swayed on her feet. A satchel sat in the dirt next to her. Dmetri picked it up and started rummaging inside.
“Hey, that’s mine!” She made a grab for it but Dmetri merely turned to the side.
“Clothes, a wallet, a phone. You planning on leaving again without telling anyone?” If her glare could hit, he was sure she’d just nailed him in the balls.
“Well, aren’t you smart.” She crossed her arms defiantly.
“And where do you think you’re going? At night, alone, with a killer who just attacked the pack, and you, mere days ago?” asked Brayden, his voice like ice.
She clamped her mouth closed and stared hard at the ground.
Dmetri sighed. “Come on, you’re coming with us.” He moved to grab her elbow but she jumped back a foot.
“No, I’m not going.” Dmetri saw the fierce conviction in her eyes and wanted to sigh.
Damn the Kategans and their stubbornness.
“You really think you could make it out of here alone still weak from the attack?” Brayden’s voice was hard, unforgiving.
Vanessa’s jaw clenched. “I’ve traveled alone before and I’m pretty sure I can do it again, vampire. It’s not like you have any say over me.” She gave him a hard look, her lykaen glowing eerily in her eyes.
“We’re taking you back, Vanessa. Either come willingly or not, it’s your choice, but that’s the only choice you get,” said Dmetri.
In a flash, she lunged for her satchel. Dmetri sidestepped and she went tumbling beside him. He moved to grab her in the next second, but she darted back into the forest at a full on sprint.
“Dammit,” he muttered. He started to go after her, but Brayden, once again, beat him to it.
The man must be livid because he reached her in a matter of seconds. He spun her around by the arm and tackled her stomach with his shoulder, lifting her up. She went, flopping against him like a ragdoll.
Her screech nearly made his ears bleed. “Let me go! You fucking asshole don’t do this!” Brayden ignored her and kept his arm clamped over her kicking legs. Dmetri smirked as she started beating her fists,
hard
, against his back. He led the way back to the SUV. Brayden held the girl still in the backseat of the car as Dmetri drove them home.
“What’s your problem? I’m nothing to either of you. Just stop the car and let me out. I don’t belong here.”
Dmetri heard the pain and frustration in her voice and felt bad—a little. But no way was he going to let this little Kategan roam around unprotected while Claude was out there. Vane might kill him, or Claude might kill her.
Dmetri looked in the review mirror and saw Brayden sitting with the young girl next to him, his arm banded tightly around her shoulders. She slowly looked up at Brayden with a glare as mean as the devil’s.
“I hate you.”
The only indication that Brayden took heart to her words was a slight furrowing of his brow that was gone again a moment later.
“I know,” he said.
Christine had a plan. Was it good? Probably not considering she’d thought it up after drinking a bottle of wine with Vera. Still, she lumbered up the stairs to his cabin and tried the door handle—it opened easily.
“Sweet.”
He was out somewhere, probably doing Justicar things. She closed the door behind her and stared at the couch. Memories of their first time together, after Dmetri was attacked by Claude, were still fresh as if it happened yesterday.
“Good times,” she said, petting the couch as she walked by it, “but you won’t do tonight.”
She stopped at the hallway and closed her eyes as the walls swayed side to side. Whoa, there. After a good deep breath, she continued down the hall to the small bedroom.
This was her one last chance. It was either this or nothing, and she couldn’t blow it. She pulled off her clothes with clumsy hands that didn’t want to work, and then lie down on the bed.
That mattress was stiff and not nearly as comfortable as her own, but still her eyes started to flutter shut. She forced them open until her eyes burned. But it was useless. They closed and she didn’t open them again until she heard the front door open sometime later.
She came to in an instant. Luckily, the dark room didn’t spin around her as it had before.
She actually lamented that the alcohol was nearly gone from her body, now she’d have to rely on her own courage without any excuses.
She heard the footsteps stop at the front door, and then the door closing softly. The steps came and she recognized the sound of his shiny black loafers on the wood floors. Click, click, click. He appeared in the doorway a moment later. His hair was disheveled, windblown, and looked like he’d run it through with his fingers. But his eyes held her prisoner. They landed on her, piercing with intensity, before slowly traveling down her naked body. Her body responded to his perusal. When his eyes met her stomach, it clenched in response; when they traveled over her legs, she spread them the barest of inches.
He cleared his throat. His voice hoarse he said, “This is a welcome surprise.” The corner of her mouth curved up with a hint of a smile. “Hi.” He came into the room and stared unbuttoning his shirt, baring inches of pale, hard chest and skin. He dropped the shirt to the floor and began tugging on his belt.
“If I could always come home to you like this I’d forever be a happy man.” She chuckled at the way he said it—seriously as if he meant it. And he probably did. If only she didn’t love him.
“Where were you?” she asked.
He sighed and the belt hit the ground. “Had an impromptu meeting with the new Master of Claude’s clan. We’ve made an arrangement with him.”
“Oh.”
She watched as his hands reached for the button of his trousers and opened it. Her mouth watered, tongue darted out to wet her dry lips. He started to pull the zipper down, but she held out her hand to stop him.
“Wait...let me.”
His eyebrow cocked in surprise but he moved his hands away. Christine walked over to him, putting a little extra sway in her hips that drew his attention. She stopped in front of him and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing kisses across his chest. His chest expanded against her lips with each breath he took; so full of life, so virile.
Slowly, she kissed her way down the middle of his stomach, in the indentation between the sets of muscles he packed there. The muscles bunched and flexed under her touch, sending her own breathing shaky.
“
Millaya moya,
what are you doing?”
The sweet endearment in that thick accent made her feel even sexier. She felt drugged, needy, and eager for his touch—to touch him. She pulled down his zipper with a gentle tug and swept his pants around his ankles. The black silk boxers he wore contrasted dramatically against his pale skin.
His cock, erect and hard thrust against the flimsy barrier, begging her to touch it. And so she did.
With one last longing look up at him, she took in everything. The heated, possessive look in his eyes, the slackened look of pleasure across his face, and then she covered his silken cock with her mouth.
The black silk grew wet under her mouth, clung to his rigid staff like a second skin.
Dmetri tensed, hands clenching before slowly releasing. He kept his hands stiffly at his sides as if he struggled with the need to touch her, or at least that’s what she hoped.
She trailed her mouth over him twice before she’d had enough. She wanted to feel the heat of him on her tongue, wanted to taste him and not the cloth. With a vicious tug, she yanked his boxers down, then lovingly grabbed his thick shaft.
His thighs bunched hard, breathing grew labored, and it was like music to her ears.
Between her legs she grew wet and hot. She wanted him to touch her, but first she wanted to torture them, and prolong the pleasure for as long as she could. Because she knew, that if he touched her right now, she’d fly apart and be done for.
So she sucked him deep, learning the taste, texture, and feel of him against her tongue.
He was warm, so much warmer than he usually was. Hard but soft as the silk of his boxers, he filled her deep and wide, spreading her lips open until her jaw nearly protested. She curled her fist around him at the base, squeezing and tugging gently as she sucked him in repeatedly. His breathing came out in pants, and she loved the sound.
“Christine.” He said her name as if he were choking.
She only smiled as she rubbed her tongue along his shaft up to the round head; she followed the path with her fist. The wetness from her mouth made the pass an easy glide as she pumped him up and down.
“I do not want to come in your mouth,” he warned.
She moaned around him and dove down until he neared the back of her throat. Slowly, she sucked on him as she retreated up to the tip of his cock. Her mouth made a wet popping sound like she was pulling out a sucker as she released him.
“Oh, really? Well this tells a different story,” she said, pumping him in a steady rhythm.
“Perhaps, but you will listen to me,” he said between clenched teeth.
It took Christine all of a second to think about it, and then she closed her mouth around him again bobbed over him, filling her mouth, licking him, sucking. Her hand pumped him at the base, and his cock actually flexed in her palm, growing hotter under her ministrations.
“Christine,” he warned.
Her sex pooled with hot cream, nipples pulled tight into hard points. She couldn’t resist trailing her own hand across her breasts, scraping the hard nipples across her palm before squeezing a plump breast. She needed this, and so did he.
His breathing grew heavy and labored; hips rocked thrusting his cock deeper into her mouth. Christine moaned at the heady, masculine taste of him coating her tongue. She wanted his release to fill her, spill down her throat. She didn’t have to wait long.
He choked out her name in a garbled growl, and then his cock pulsed hard in her hand.
She jerked her hand faster and felt the pent-up pressure grow inside him. With a harsh cry, his hands finally tangled in her hair to hold her. He pushed deep and then hot, silken streams shot into her mouth. She heard moans, her and his, as she drank all of him, swallowing his hot creamy essence.
The hands in her hair vibrated, and she realized he was shaking. Christine pulled back to take in his pleasure-drenched features. His eyes could barely stay open; his lips were wet and parted, thighs trembling with the effort to hold himself up. He looked gorgeous and satisfied, and she’d done that.
Her heart swelled in her chest until it was on the tip of her tongue to tell him she loved him. But she couldn’t.
Dmetri finally opened his eyes. The look in his eyes was so dark and possessive that it reminded her of the way Vane looked at Sarina. It was a look she’d always craved, but had never gotten. Though her eyes may be playing tricks on her, or her heart was anyways. This might be wishful seeing.
“Come here,” he said and pulled her up against him. His arms came around her, pulling her close.
She rested her cheek against his heart, listening to the pounding beat. Her eyes closed and she sighed against him, loving the feel of his hands caressing her back up and down. His touch mesmerized her, made her feel like she was floating somewhere way up high in the sky.
The beating of his heart suddenly pounded hard and fast. Christine yanked herself away and saw Dmetri glaring towards the front of the house. The sound came again, and this time registered in her muddled mind as knocking.
“Stay here,” he said and quickly pulled on his pants.
Christine debated on dressing with him, but decided to huddle against the bedroom door and listen instead. What she heard made her pale.
Her mother was here.
* * *