Bound to Night (3 page)

“Come on, Jack, you know everything. Why won’t you tell me?”

He was silent for a moment, and Tasha couldn’t resist reaching out with her mind. She came up against the usual solid wall of his defenses and scowled.

Jack smiled, and she knew he’d sensed her attempt. Then he shrugged. “There is a…” he paused as if unsure of the right word to use, “a ritual which must be performed before you can come into your powers. But, Tasha, you know they’ve been using mind drugs on you, if you don’t want to turn, you’re better off not knowing. Now come here.” He held out one hand to her. “I must feed before your friend Johnson comes back for you.”

She went to him eagerly, sliding her fingers against the coolness of his palm and lifting her chin to tease him with the smooth flesh of her throat.

He laughed softly with a flash of fangs then pulled her to him, turned her, and backed her toward the small cot in one fluid move. As his fangs pierced her vein, she gave herself up to the sweet sensation of his mouth at her throat, the throbbing at her breasts, between her thighs, the heat pooling at the base of her belly.

Finally, he drew back, licking the last drops of blood from her throat, stroking his tongue across the wound to quicken the healing. He lay back with a sigh, pulling her close, holding her against his hard body. Tasha lay beside him, restless.

“Stop wriggling,” he said.

“Why?”

“Because it’s distracting, and I don’t need it.”

She wriggled some more, rubbing her small breasts across his chest, shivering at the delicious friction on her sensitive nipples. Jack lay still, but she knew he wasn’t immune to her advances because she could feel his huge erection pressed against her stomach. She’d been thinking about this for weeks now. Some part of her suspected that she would never leave this place alive, and she wanted to experience as much as she could of life while she had the chance. So far, Jack wasn’t assisting her plan.

“Jack, why won’t you make love to me?”

He stared down at her, a frown on his face. “You’re too young.”

“I’m twenty-one and all grown up.”

“Too immature, then.”

“Well, duh! Even you’d be immature if you’d been stuck in this dump for the last eight years.”

She looked at him, head tilted to one side. “You know, Jack, you could think of this as an opportunity to help me grow.”

He continued to stare at her in that annoying, inscrutable manner.

“It’s because I’m scrawny, isn’t it?” she said, glancing down at her body. “You can tell me. I can take criticism. It’s because I have small breasts and no hips, isn’t it?”

His eyes roamed over her body. “You just need to eat a little more,” he said. “You’re actually quite beautiful.”

“Yeah, of course I am. I guess that’s why you can’t keep your hands off me. Look,” she said. “I promise I’ll still respect you in the morning.”

He laughed, and she scowled. Why wouldn’t he just give in and do it? It wasn’t as if it was going to hurt him. She was twenty-one, well over the age of consent. She was lying on a bed with the most gorgeous man she could ever imagine, and he refused to cooperate. She propped herself up on her elbows and stared him right in the face.

“You know, Jack,” she said, injecting as much pathos into her voice as possible. “It’s a full moon tomorrow night. I may not survive. I’ll die a virgin, never knowing what a man feels like.”

He stared back, his eyes half-closed and there was something she couldn’t define in his expression.

“I won’t take your virginity,” he said.

She opened her mouth to argue, and then closed it again. He was telling her what he wouldn’t do, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t do anything. His eyes were hot on her, and her stomach muscles tightened with a shiver of anticipation.

“Take off your clothes,” he ordered.

“What?”

“You heard me. You said you wanted this, so take them off.”

Tasha scrambled to her feet. His face had gone blank, but beneath his half-closed lids, his green eyes gleamed. A flicker of nervousness ran through her. She yanked her T-shirt over her head, before he could change his mind, then kicked off her sweatpants to stand before him naked. She couldn’t look at him but could feel his gaze running, like fire, over her body.

“Come here.” He took her hand and tugged her to the bed, pulling her down alongside him. Tasha let him do whatever he wanted, her whole body trembling as he took her wrists in his large hands, stretched them upward, and wrapped her fingers around the bars at the head of the bed. “Hold on,” he said.

The position thrust her small breasts upwards, and he trailed one long finger over them. A small smile played across his lips as her nipples sprang to instant hardness, straining up toward him. He teased her with his fingers, stroking light patterns over the underside of her breasts. The strangest sensations ran through her, sinking deep into her belly, and the flesh between her legs felt hot and swollen. She needed him to touch her there. Would he?

“Please, Jack,” she whispered.

He heard her, his fingers moving to her stiff little nipples. He caught one between finger and thumb, twisting gently, tugging and pulling. She couldn’t hold back a whimper of pleasure. It was like nothing she had ever experienced. She peered up through the haze of pleasure to find him watching her, a look of intense concentration on his face. He leaned over her, taking the other nipple between his lips. Electric shocks ran from her breasts to her groin, and her hips rose from the bed.

“Let go and I stop,” he murmured against her breasts, and she tightened her grip on the bars.

He spread wet kisses over her skin as his fingers continued to play with her nipples, his teeth nipping her flesh, his fangs grazing the soft swell of her breasts. Then his head moved lower. He licked and kissed his way down over her flat belly, leaving a trail of fire. His tongue dipped into her navel then moved even lower. She needed something, and she pressed her thighs together, her hips coming off the bed at the sensations running through her.

“Open your legs, Tasha.”

She let them fall apart and groaned when he moved so his head hovered above the parting of her thighs. She couldn’t believe this was happening. She would die if he stopped. She might die if he continued. She didn’t care. His breath ruffled the curls of her pubic hair, and she melted, moisture oozing from her. He was taking too long. “Jack!”

Her eyes fluttered closed at the first long, slow lick of his tongue and behind her closed lids, explosions of color burst in her mind. His tongue probed between the folds of her sex, tasting her, slipping inside her, and then gliding wetly up toward her clit. He stopped short, and she bucked against him. He repeated the movement, and she had to bite back a scream of frustration. His hands moved down, slid beneath her to cup her bottom, his thumbs sliding between her legs to part the lips of her sex so she lay open before him. He paused.

“Please, Jack.” She moaned the words over and over, her hands still gripping onto the bars. At last, he touched her, teasing her tight little bud with the tip of his tongue. He stroked lightly across her, and she whimpered. Flames flashed through her, concentrating fire on that one small spot between her legs. He stroked harder, and she went mindless, her head rolling from side to side, her hips bucking against his firm hold. Then he sucked her clit into his mouth, bit down. Without warning, her climax exploded through her. He continued to suckle and waves of pleasure washed over her, dragging her under until she blacked out.

When she came to, Jack was lying beside her. She could feel his rhythmic movements. Letting go of the bars, she rolled onto her side. He was on his back, his pants open, his fist wrapped round his rock hard erection. It was beautiful, arching thick and powerful from a nest of midnight dark curls. Tasha couldn’t look away as he thrust his rigid shaft into his own palm. His movements were fierce, and she reached out a trembling hand.

“Don’t touch me,” he growled.

She lowered her hand and watched, fascinated as he pleasured himself. He was huge, his large hand hardly covering his shaft. The skin was silky pale, the head, purple, swollen, already oozing. The heat rose again in her belly. She licked her lips, and heard him groan. Tearing her gaze away, she peered into his face; his eyes were jewel green slits, intent upon her as he thrust himself into his palm. Her body ached for his touch. Without conscious thought, her hand drifted across her breasts, still damp from his kisses.

“More,” he said.

Instinct told her what he wanted. Emboldened, she played with a nipple, tugging it between her finger and thumb as he had done, and flames of fire licked through her. Her other hand drifted down, over her stomach, through her pubic hair. She was soft, wet. Opening her legs, she stroked a finger lightly over her swollen clit. It was still sensitive from her orgasm. She gasped, and moved her fingers lower to slide inside herself. Her flesh was hot, slippery with desire, and she moaned as she imagined Jack’s huge cock thrusting inside her. She arched her hips, opening her legs wider, pushing another finger into her sopping slit. Jack swore, his movements becoming jerky, until his back arched and his seed shot from him. He collapsed back onto the bed.

A moment later, he rolled onto his side, and his hand brushed hers, one long finger sliding inside her. It felt far better than her own and she gasped as he thrust a second finger into her, while he stroked her to orgasm with the pad of his thumb.

She shuddered against him a second time and heard him chuckle.

He held her as her body trembled, then rolled onto his back and pulled her to him. Tasha relaxed. He was almost warm now from the blood he had taken, and she pressed closer, breathing in the male, musky scent of sex for the first time.

For a while, she was content, and it occurred to her, with a twinge of shock, that lying close to Jack like this was the only time she’d felt safe in long, long years. She wasn’t sure what she was to Jack, maybe nothing more than food, but in the five weeks she’d known him, he had become everything to her—friend, confidant, ally. She wished she could somehow crawl inside his body and be safe forever.

But she knew it was a lie. There was no safety for her here.

Johnson would come for her soon, and tomorrow night they would hurt her. She could do nothing to stop them, and the fear shifted deep within her, clawing at her like a living thing.

She’d lied when she’d told Jack she was all grown up. Inside her remained the memory of the child she’d been eight years ago. The child who had woken in this awful place, crying for her mother, pleading with them to let her go, not to hurt her anymore. She’d soon learned the futility of that, but the need was still there, buried deep.

Or maybe not so deep.

Her face was wet, and she realized she was crying silently into Jack’s shirt. She bit down hard on her lip, and blinked back the tears. Easing her hands between their bodies, she pushed herself up.

Jack’s hold on her tightened. His hand reached up to stroke her face, his fingers hesitating as they encountered the dampness of her skin.

“Tasha, what’s wrong?” he asked gently.

“Nothing,” she muttered. “Johnson will be coming soon. I need to get ready.”

She sat up, brushing his hands away. Jack appeared almost shocked, but she ignored him and scrambled off the bed. She pulled on her clothes, and sank to the floor by the cell door, hugging her knees to her chest.

***

Jack stared at the small figure huddled against the wall, her face hidden by a dark curtain of hair. She lifted her head and looked at him, tears welling up in her eyes as fast as she could blink them away. Watching her was like watching his world collapsing. She was always so strong, so brave, laughing off what they did to her in this evil place.

But what had her life really been like? He’d been here for just over seven weeks, and already he longed for freedom. A miasma of evil hung about The Facility.

What could it have been like being brought here as child? He longed to free her, take her away, but there was more at stake. He had a job to do, and he couldn’t leave until he’d done it.

Despite the fact he’d just come, his balls ached, and his cock was rock hard again. He wished he could make love to her but he knew it wasn’t an option if she didn’t want to shift. It was her choice. He wouldn’t take that from her. Instead, he’d given her what pleasure he could; he could still taste her on his lips. But now she was crying, and he didn’t know what to do.

“I’ve never seen you cry before,” he murmured.

She glanced at him, and scowled. “I thought I’d make it more realistic for Johnson. I’d hate for him to think I’d been enjoying myself in here.’

Jack rose from the cot and crossed the room to where she sat. He crouched in front of her, and rubbed one long, lean finger down her damp cheek. Then he lifted her chin. “What’s wrong, Tasha?” he asked again.

She stared at him, golden eyes huge in her small face. “What’s wrong?” she snarled and Jack almost smiled at the disbelief in her voice. “What’s right would be easier to answer—absolutely nothing!” She shook her head, and stared at him through narrowed eyes. “Maybe,” she said slowly, “it’s that my only friend in the whole wide world is a vampire. And what am I to him? Food! Nothing but bloody dinner.”

A shock ran through him at her words. “You’re more than food.”

“Oh, yeah? Just what am I to you, Jack?”

The question stopped him short. What was she to him? He admitted to a deep craving for her sweet blood. But it was far more than that. From the first moment they’d met, when she’d tried to probe his mind, he’d known she was special. But what did “special” mean? With a sense of surprise, he realized that in all his hundreds of years he’d never wanted a woman the way he wanted Tasha. But he also wanted to protect her, take her out of this place. His brain floundered. A vampire and a werewolf? He’d never heard of such a mating before. The two were natural enemies. Vampires loved were-blood. It was the sweetest and they took it by force when they could. But he’d never needed force with his little red wolf. She gave of herself freely. He stared down at her hunched figure, sensing her tension as she waited for his answer. He searched for a part of himself he could give to her.