Blood Stained Tranquility (16 page)

Those lips, hot and ruthless, became the center of her universe. Zeniel went in without mercy, his tongue sliding home before she’d fully opened her mouth. His tongue was wet, hot and smooth as it connected with hers over and over, refusing to give her any control over the situation.

Eve arched, latched onto his hair, and moaned his name. The idea of fighting him was long gone at that point. Destroyed as if it had never existed.

She rubbed her chest against his, her nipples aching for contact. Zeniel pulled away, his breath teasing her. Hungry for more, she pulled on his hair and leaned in. He gave a warning growl, his hands retaliating and pulling on her hair. He jerked her head back hard, that luscious mouth of his attacking her too sensitive throat.

Weakness rushed through her, followed by a drunken lust that was agonizing.

A burn started to etch across her neck, too focused to be random. Too detailed to be a mere flush. It was her mark, she was damn sure of it. It hadn’t appeared yet, but she knew all mated beings got one. And when Zeniel’s teeth scraped against her while his pelvis rolled into her, pressing a good eight inches of hot, throbbing flesh against her pulsating pussy, the lines all but burst forth, tempting him to bite her.

He wasn’t going to fit inside her. That was the only thought that flashed through her head for a second, followed by pure, unadulterated, completely misplaced excitement. ’Cause there was a good chance he was going to hurt her with the monstrous thing he had going on between his legs.

And she couldn’t fucking wait to be torn by it, consequences be damned.

The burn in her neck intensified. Did he know? Fear hit her, fueling her with adrenaline. If he didn’t know, she couldn’t let him see. There was no way she was ready to let him know.

Zeniel pulled her away from the wall, dematerializing them both. They slammed back into form inside a room—
his
room. His scent was all over the place, even saturating the walls, and she was almost knocked to her knees right there.

“What are you doing?” She managed to pull away from him, her fingers reaching up to cover her neck.

“Evesse.”

“No.” She stumbled away from his outstretched hand. Confusion and lust robbed her of her common sense, but even so, she knew there was no way he could just barge in there and have her at his convenience. She’d gone through too much without him to allow that. She’d fucking
cried
over him.

The reminder gave her the dose of anger she needed to move away from him. Her body wept, every vein pounding to the point that everything around her seemed to do the same.

Zeniel took a step toward her, his black and red eyes watching her. His brow tensed, his fists clenched. It looked like he was barely holding himself back from flinging himself at her.

“Evesse.”

“No,” she said again. She stumbled back another step, her mouth torn between going bone-dry or overflowing as his scent invaded her. It was everywhere. God, help her, it was on her skin, covering her. She needed more. She needed . . . no.

“You. You left. No.”

It was all she was able to say. Her stomach cramped. She wrapped her arms around herself.

His eyes froze on her neck as he advanced. She had no doubt what he was looking at, and the lack of surprise on his face had her ready to commit murder. Or suicide in that case, because killing him meant killing herself.

So be it, it would be worth it. That bastard, he’d known. He’d fucking known she was mated to him and he’d still stayed away.

“Evesse.” Zeniel barked her name so forcefully that she found herself stopping against her will, her body obeying his command.

“You left.” Damn her, that time her words came out as nothing more than a whimper.

Zeniel flung off his jacket and began stalking around her, those unholy eyes scanning her body worriedly. “I had no choice.”

The more he looked at her, the tenser he became, muscles bulging with strain and veins swelling on his forearms. Eve almost bit her tongue. There was no way she could muster the strength to move away from him, not just then. Her legs shook. Her arms tightened around her middle as she tried desperately to hold onto her anger.

“Fuck that. There’s
always
a choice. Even I, an ex-human, know that. You made yours. So, I made mine.”

“And what choice is that?”

“Someway, somehow, I’m going to exist perfectly fine without you. Hell, I’ve been doing really well so far.”

The muscles on his beautiful face tightened. The lines on his jaw and neck began to writhe, and his features morphed in anger, becoming more dangerous. His cheek bones grew so pronounced that the hollows beneath seemed stark.

“Evesse, don’t push me. I still haven’t regained full control.”

Obviously. She was almost sure it was Mavrak she was speaking to, and hated that seeing his demon half had her seconds from dropping to her knees. Or flying onto the bed, legs spread, and body arched in a plea.

The sheer thought of baring herself to him had her gushing. The tiny, flimsy thing she wore as underwear wasn’t going to be able to hold back her wetness. It was seconds from dripping down her thigh. Embarrassing.

Zeniel’s nostrils flared and he stopped mid-stride, his eyes sliding closed and an agonized groan leaving him.

No. No. He knew Eve, remember. He left you like this and he knew you belonged to him.

“Isn’t that why you left in the first place?” she finally managed to ask, relieved when the necessary bite flowed behind the words. “Because you weren’t in control? Well, then. You can carry along in your search for that control. I’m leaving.”

Her legs actually functioned long enough for her to side-step around him. Zeniel flashed right in front of her, blocking her way. The markings on his face writhed even more. New lines appeared under the sleeves of his T-shirt, caressing his large biceps almost lovingly as they moved.

“Eve. You’re not helping me right now. You need to calm the hell down.”

Wrong thing to ever say to her. Ever. Especially considering what she’d been going through without him the last week.

The first hit to his chest took Zeniel by surprise, his grunt and his expression both shocked. His shoes skidded across marble from the force of her blow. It was good. So good. It had the anger in her smiling and
ah
ing to its little heart’s content.

But it wasn’t enough.

“Damn you. I woke up and you weren’t there. You weren’t fucking there!” She beat against his chest repeatedly, so hard that the walls shook with each blow.

Still, he stood there, taking her hits.

“I know,” he said in a low voice that dripped with an apology she didn’t want to hear right then.

She pulled back, ready to aim at his face next. Zen’s hands shot out, grabbing onto her wrists before she could execute her move. Her spine caught fire as rage blew up inside each vertebra. She flung her leg out, nailing him in the knee with her heel.

Zen grunted, almost buckling, but he refused to let go. He flipped her around, her wrists in his grip, and she ended up with her back pressed to his chest and her arms forcefully wrapped around her. Before she could kick him again, he dragged her cursing and struggling straight into his body.

Eve froze and gasped, feeling that erection of his pressing right between her ass cheeks—huge, unrelenting, and oh-so-fucking tempting.

“Fight me all you want, I can smell how drenched you are, my female.”

With a growl that nearly scared her, Zeniel dove for her neck, moving her hair aside with his face, nuzzling her skin brusquely. Almost as if he wanted to merge his flesh with hers. He latched onto her mark, licking and sucking it so hard that a small piece of her skin actually ripped.

The moment her blood touched his tongue, an orgasm exploded inside her.

Zeniel moaned desperately, holding her still.

Then, right as she was about to lose her mind from the feeling of her empty walls convulsing, he snarled and sank his teeth into her neck.

Chapter 12

The violent shaking she had going on was nothing. Hell, the orgasm still playing squeeze-and-release with her inner walls was nothing. Not when compared to the shock of realizing that there was only one reason Zeniel would be drinking from her.

He was mated to her.

And hey, didn’t that send her orgasm onto a whole new level? Fireworks shot off between her synapses, sending glee-signals through every nerve.

“
Zeniel
.”

He was shaking now, too, moaning hoarsely, and taking long pulls from her vein. Releasing her arms, he grabbed onto her hips and ground into her ass. Deep rotations pressed him hard into her, and she felt his cock jerking inside his jeans.

He was coming.

She collapsed against him, her body convulsing angrily—empty. Her fangs descended. Her insides surged with hunger, leaving her deranged, desperate . . . wild.

Blindly, Eve searched out his wrist, latching on and pulling on it with all her might. It was almost like playing tug-a-war with an elephant. The man simply didn’t want to let her go. Growling, she yanked until she was able to pry the fingers of his left hand from her hip. In a flash, she had his wrist at her mouth. His skin seemed to draw her incisors in before she had even decided to bite down.

His blood rushed into her, almost as if it’d been desperate to do so. She turned into a livewire of pure sex, her orgasm abusing her womb. Their scents blasted into the room, a pulsing wave of high octane arousal.

Zeniel ripped his mouth away from her neck. His breath was harsh against her ear. He let go of her hip, and slid his hand between her legs, pushing her skirt aside. Eve writhed against him as if she were having a seizure.

“That’s it, my
R’ma.
Drink me. Take me,” he whispered roughly into her ear.

She groaned his name, a garbled, watery sound full of his blood since she hadn’t let go of his wrist. His fingers pressed against her swollen clit, above her underwear, teasing and torturing her.

“So wet for me.”

She let go of his wrist in a rush. “Zen. Zen, I need—”

He had her on his bed before she could finish the thought. Roughly, he grabbed her knees, spreading her wide. The smile that pulled at his lips stole her breath. It was vicious. And awed.

His hands shook on her knees. “Waited so long for this. You have no idea.”

His eyes met hers. She couldn’t focus on them for long. Peeking out of the collar of his black T-shirt was a new mark—a red, black and yellow tribal design that stretched toward his jaw. Tears shot into her eyes so fast she blinked in surprise and shook her head.

“You . . . you’re really mine?”

Zeniel sat back on his legs, his head falling back as he laughed. “No, female. This is a dream you’re having.”

Conceited fucker.

“Because that’s what I dream about. Right.”

So what if she was lying? He didn’t need to know that.

He caressed her knees, giving her a look that told her exactly what he thought of that comment. “Do you not?”

The way he arched his eyebrow had her torn between biting him and hitting him again.

She scowled. “Do you even
want
to be mated to me?”

He frowned so hard that his brows seemed to become one. The intensity of his stare nearly had her crawling away from him. Eyes locked on hers, he manhandled her knees wide open, making room for all six feet two inches of him.

“Female.” He cupped her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Tell me: How could you possibly think I wouldn’t want you?”

The way he asked her that was enough to make her almost come, her hips slamming up against his. Then he kissed her as she thrashed under him, his tongue heavy and rough inside her mouth.

Holy fuck. The taste coming off him. Too much. It was too damned much.

“Does this feel like I don’t want you?” He surged between her legs, his cock merciless as he pushed it into her throbbing clit over and over. “I’m trembling for you.
Feel
me.”

She had no choice; he was all over her, covering her. He rubbed against her like an animal marking its territory. Not that she was any better. She was soaking his jeans, she knew it. Could smell herself in the air between them. He kept driving her, his hips swiveling.