Authors: Lyn Gala
Instead, she sank down as slowly as she could. The slow
torture made Brady squirm uncomfortably and Paige’s body trembled with need,
but she liked the knife’s edge. She liked this unfulfilled thirst that made her
body yearn for more. She finally settled down and Brady’s eyes stared up at
her, begging her for more even though he was silent. She remained perfectly
still.
Brady’s fists uncurled, leaving behind wrinkles that looked
like two crumpled flowers on the sheets. Carefully, he brushed his hands over
her thighs, and with each pass, his fingers got closer to where their bodies
joined. Paige simply watched. Finally, his fingers stroked her curled hair and
a full-body shiver of need went through her. Her pussy tightened so that Brady
felt even larger and he gave an answering moan of either pleasure or pain.
His fingers returned, this time slipping between the lips of
her pussy to find the hard clit. Moving with great caution, he stroked a finger
over it and Paige couldn’t take any more. She rose up on her knees and then
slid back down on Brady’s hard shaft. She needed this. Oh God, she needed this.
She rode carefully, not giving him enough to come while she indulged herself.
Instead of complaining, Brady kept his fingers against her clit, stroking and
pressing as she rode him. Her muscles tightened, pulling her back into an arch.
Paige’s control slipped and she started riding him harder,
cries coming with each thrust. A distant part of her mind reminded her of
bruises, but the need was too great to stop for that. Besides, Brady started
pressing up to meet her. Their bodies worked together, point and counterpoint
as each thrust grew longer and faster. Paige’s legs started to ache and she
reached down and caught Brady by the shoulders. Immediately he stilled, but
then Paige threw her weight to one side while still impaled on Brady’s cock.
Luckily, he was a fast learner.
She rolled to her back and Brady rolled with her, supporting
his weight on his elbows as he took over the thrusting. Hooking her legs around
the back of his thighs, Paige pulled him closer with each thrust.
He was powerful and now she could feel every inch of that
power as he pushed into her, his breath against her neck as he moaned with each
movement. Paige cried out as her orgasm swept over her. Her entire body tightened.
She dug fingers into Brady’s shoulders and pulled herself up off the bed. Her
legs stiffened and her pussy tightened until Brady was almost too large as he
continued to thrust into her. She cried out again as the orgasm continued, each
thrust pushing her deeper into the orgasm until she couldn’t think. She could
only gasp for air as her body twisted.
Brady cried out and then his thrusts started slowing.
Eventually he stopped, his body still draped over hers. Only then did Paige’s
muscles begin to recover. Taut limbs slowly softened and her aching pussy
finally loosened. Brady panting even though he didn’t technically need to
breathe at all, his head buried against her neck, and Paige loosened the death
hold she had on his shoulders to slowly stroke her fingers through his hair.
She lay with her eyes closed as her body tried to
redistribute oxygen to muscles that felt overused. She’d run marathons without
feeling this worn out. Brady’s weight pinned her to the bed for a moment before
he rolled to the side, his arm still draped over her waist.
Without opening her eyes, Paige did a mental check. Her
heart pounded so hard she could feel it all through her body. Her legs were
starting to get chilly now that she was sated and her knee hurt. Brady was
lying on it. She pulled at her bent leg and there was a quick shuffling before
Brady moved and she could straighten it out.
“Sorry,” Brady said, his voice contrite. After deciding that
she was still alive, Paige opened one eye. “Hey,” Brady said with a bright smile.
The red had faded and his eyes were that pale shade of brown that made her want
to just stare into them.
“I’m feeling less than dead.”
“And I’m feeling very healed and nice enough to not say ‘I
told you so’.” Brady snorted. “Like I would ever kill my partner.”
Paige aimed a punch at Brady’s stomach, but she was too
exhausted to hit too hard. “Sometimes you have to be realistic. Realistically,
we’re still locked in this room.”
“Maybe. Maybe I can open that door now.”
Paige forced heavy limbs to move enough to roll onto one
side and prop herself up on an elbow. “Do you think so?” Brady did look good.
Actually, he always looked good, but he looked healed now.
“Maybe,” Brady said. He stretched, and the muscle under his
skin bunched and stretched. Damn, he was a stunning man. “If I can’t get it
open, I can break the guard’s neck when he comes down here.”
“That sounds like a plan,” Paige said. It sounded like a
feasibly questionable plan, but considering how well her plans had been working
out, she didn’t have much room to complain. “Just give me a second to get
dressed,” she said. She dropped back down onto the bed.
“No hurries. Just rest a second,” Brady whispered into her
ear, his breath ruffling her hair. He moved away and she groaned at the loss of
contact. Before she could voice a complaint, a musty blanket settled over her,
and then Brady was back, pulling her close. Paige didn’t want to go to sleep,
but she did anyway.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Rise and shine,” Brady said. Paige peeled one eye open and
found Brady crouching beside the bed. He had put on pants. Where his hand
rested on her arm, her body started to warm.
“Either stop touching me or we’re going to end up in bed
again,” Paige warned. Brady jerked his hand back so fast that Paige almost took
offense. Her glare must have warned him about what she was thinking.
“Bed sounds good, but not that bed.”
Paige sniffed and promptly sneezed at the smell of dust and
mold. “You have a point.” Paige pushed the blanket down and sat up. “Clothes?”
she asked, pointing at the pile. Brady grabbed them and offered them to her.
“So, are you feeling okay?” Brady sounded worried.
Instead of giving him a quick answer, Paige stopped and
considered that. She felt loose and limber and ready to take on the world.
“Really good,” she said, “especially when I expected to wake up dead.”
“Take it from me, that’s not as much fun as it sounds,”
Brady said with a smile. He obviously felt better. The bruises had vanished and
he looked strong. Paige pulled on her pants before she could get distracted
again. “I still can’t believe you thought I’d drain you,” Brady complained.
“I expected you’d drain me before leaving me to uber-bitch
upstairs,” Paige said. “You have to save yourself first and worry about me
second. That’s the only way we’re getting out of this,” Paige said. Normally
she walked into a situation with a weapon, prepared to take care of herself
first and foremost, so it was strange to be the one in need of rescuing. She
didn’t like the feeling, but the rules didn’t change because she found herself
in a bad spot.
She looked over and Brady had a stubborn expression on his
face. “You follow your training or I will kick your ass myself,” Paige warned,
ignoring the fact that she couldn’t physically follow through on that threat.
As a short cop, though, she’d learned that the attitude meant more than the
size. Sure enough, Brady ducked his head. He still had a stubborn expression on
his face, but she’d wear him down eventually. “So, are you going to break
through the door?”
“I’m going to try.” Brady wiggled his eyebrows and broke out
in a wide smile. He was enjoying this.
“Have fun.” Paige waved her hand toward the heavy wood and
iron door. Hopefully, he could break through it. If not, they were still
royally screwed.
Brady moved to the center of the room, his knees bent as
though about to leap into battle. He tilted his whole body so that the shoulder
was lined up with the door like he was some cop in a bad seventies drama about
to charge through it.
“You are going to break every bone in your shoulder,” Paige
warned. All the wariness and readiness dropped out of Brady’s body language as
he turned to look at her. “Use your training, Brady. It’s not always about
brute strength.” She crossed her arms and glared at him.
She could tell the instant he realized what she meant. He
blushed, his whole face turning darker and his eyes taking on a pinkish color.
Without a word, he walked over to the door and looked at the area right under
the doorknob.
“Donkey or side kick?” he asked, but he asked it soft enough
that she figured he was mulling over his options. “This may splinter. You may
want to take cover,” Brady warned her. The wood was a lot heavier than the
standard training doors they taught recruits to kick through when they didn’t
have time to go for proper equipment. The door was heavy and old, so Brady was
right about the possibility of it splintering.
“You’re the one who’s going to be standing right in front of
it. Vampires and wood splinters are not friends,” Paige warned.
“Good thing I’m not a vampire.”
“I’m guessing a wooden stake to the heart would still kill
you,” Paige pointed out. “Actually, I’m pretty sure Hunter said that stakes
worked, so do you really want to test that theory?”
Brady eyed the door. “No, but this is the best escape strategy.
So I have to be in the line of fire here. You don’t. Use your training,
Silver,” he said with more than a touch of sarcasm.
“Asshole,” Paige said softly, but she also went over to the
far side of the bed and crouched down. He was right that they didn’t need to
both put themselves in danger. That didn’t mean she had to like him being
right.
“Just looking out for my partner.”
Paige didn’t have an answer for that. Ducking her head
lower, she waited for Brady to place his kick. The kick right below the
doorknob would do a lot more damage than any shoulder jammed into the center of
the door. She couldn’t believe he’d even considered that. Then again, maybe
demon Brady was used to having enough strength to bull through most obstacles.
A hard crack echoed through the still room. “Shit,” Brady
muttered. A second crack and then a third filled the air before the fourth
crack came with the horrible screech of metal against wood. A near explosion of
sound filled the room. Chunks of wood clattered down, metal bits fell with a
tinkle of iron against rock.
Paige stuck her head above the bed and looked at the mess
Brady had made out of the door. The latch-side of the door had shattered and
Brady stood in the middle of the ruins with a huge smile on his face. “Door zero,
Brady one,” he announced proudly.
As Paige was getting ready to stand up, a sound made her
freeze. A woman gave a low chuckle and Paige was pretty sure she knew who was
standing in the hallway.
“My demon emerges,” uber-bitch said. She came into the hall
so that the tatters of the doorway framed her. “Like a butterfly out of the
cocoon, you have embraced your power.” She gave a little golf clap that really
made Paige want to bitch slap her. Actually, bitch slapping would be number two
on the list. The first thing she wanted to do was shoot the woman in the head.
Brady fell into a crouch, his hands curled into claws. If
Paige thought he had a chance in hell of winning, she would have stood up and
cheered him on. However, considering how round one had gone, she wasn’t holding
her breath for the outcome of round two. And she was one backup plan short of
having a backup plan.
“Killing the woman was the wise choice. You’ve healed
beautifully.” The woman stepped into the room, raising her hand halfway as
though she would stroke Brady’s cheek. Brady fell back a step and physically
braced himself. “The time for fighting is over.” Her voice got brittle now.
“You’re physically weaker, you’re ignorant of your own being and you need my
guidance.”
“Lady, I don’t need anything from you, except for you to get
out of my way,” Brady disagreed.
“That is not going to happen.” She stepped carefully over a
large chunk of door that was drunkenly propped against the wall. “I created
you.”
“You created nothing.” Brady’s voice was shaking with
emotion and Paige could feel the disaster coming. She could feel it and there
was nothing she could do to stop it. “You killed the first Brady and you opened
a door, but you never created me. Do you really think you can control me?”
Her eyes narrowed to slits. “That’s how it’s done in our
community. The strong set rules for the weak, and until you can fight your way
free, you are mine.”
“So, who are you trying to fight your way free from?” Brady
asked coldly. Paige had wondered the same thing, but she had more common sense
than to ask.
The woman sucked in a breath and gave Brady such a cold look
that Paige thought they’d start round two on the spot. “I am strong enough to
have my own court, my own rules and my own consort. And I will have you obedient.”
Brady looked her up and down, his gaze equally as cold.
“Well, that’s not how I do things.”
When she smiled, the expression was toothy and full of
danger. “You do things the way I tell you, unless you want to test your
strength against me. You may be healed, but I promise, you are not strong
enough to take me on.” She made a strange hand gesture and sighed as though he
really were nothing more than a pitiful annoyance. “I’m trying so hard to not
break you, but if I must, I will.”
“That’s what happened to you, isn’t it? Someone told you
that the strong controlled the weak and you were weak.” Brady’s words hit her
like a weapon. She took a step back and the veins in her eyes turned red. It
made it look like she had red spider webs clinging to her eyeballs. It was not
a good look.
“I am not weak,” she hissed. Paige could tell that the
woman’s tenuous grip on reality was starting to give and Brady just kept
pushing.