More than Truth (Arcane Crossbreeds) (14 page)

With a noise that was more feral than human, Brit reached out and grabbed one solid cheek of his ass to jerk him to her. There was nothing tentative about her need, nothing exploratory about her touch. Her lips stretched taut around the width of his cock, and she took him to the back of her throat in one quick move.

“Ahhh.” Vin’s groan was guttural, and Brit rejoiced in the sound, stroking her tongue firmly over the underside of the throbbing flesh in her mouth.

“Holy fuck,” Tag groaned, fingers sliding over the slick lips of her pussy, moving to circle her slit. “Baby, you just rained all over me.” Two fingers slid deep, and her pussy clenched hungrily around them. “Can you feel how wet you are? How fucking hot?”

Brit moaned around Vin’s cock, feeling it throb against the roof of her mouth. She sealed her lips around the base and increased the suction until he was pressing forward with little jerks of his hips, a rumble of approval reverberating through his body. She clenched her fingers on his ass, nails digging in deep enough to have him surging forward with a grunt.

She needed more. She gripped Tag’s cock, her fingers not quite able to circle it. She tightened her grip and gave the silky, solid flesh a hard tug.

“I got the message, baby.” Tag chuckled, his fingers damp against her hips as he lifted her. She guided his cock to where she needed him, to where her body clenched in desperation. The wide tip stretched her as it slid through her wet folds. The burn of that stretch sent a wild surge of possession through her. They were hers. With a cry, she slammed down onto his lap, his slick hands losing their grip on her, the slap of skin resonating through the room.

Brit screamed at the pleasure and the intense burn. Vin’s cock slid from her mouth, and she arched her body back. Vin braced his arm across her shoulders as the sharp, unexpected orgasm clawed through her.

“Oh fuck.” Tag arched up into her, his hands sliding over her thighs to gain a firmer grip, holding her still. “Damn, Brit. Fuck. Did you hurt yourself?”

Brit squeezed her eyes closed and shook her head. Her body continued to convulse in mini tremors, and she turned her head to press her heated cheek against the cool material of Vin’s shirt. She’d never gone off like that before. Yet even as the orgasm faded, the raw craving for these two men rose harshly in her, and she contracted around Tag’s cock, enjoying the sense of fullness inside her, the bite of pain as the tip of him nudged against her womb.

Fingers brushed against her cheek, pushing the fall of her hair back. That gentle touch trailed down to trace over her swollen lips. “You are perfect, love.”

Vin. Opening her eyes, she angled her head to his cock, glistening wetly from her mouth, anticipating her touch. She nuzzled against it, breathing the musky scent of him in. It wasn’t enough. Fluid leaked from the tip, and she lapped at it with a moan. She needed that. All of him.

Rising up astride Tag, she gripped Vin’s cock and fitted her lips around the head, sucking the essence of him, craving that elemental part of him.

Tag pulled her to him, taking one turgid nipple into his mouth and sucking hard on it. A whimper escaped, and she gripped Tag’s shirt with one hand to give herself leverage to rock her hips. The hard slide of him over her swollen tissue sent little shots of pleasure rippling through her belly.

The taste of Vin rolled over her tongue, and she slid her hand down his shaft to cup the soft fall of his sac, massaging it with her fingers. She loved the sound of his groan and the pungent smell of his helplessness as he pressed deeper into her mouth. It sent a savage delight spiraling up through her, so addictive. She wanted them both helpless to her. Hers.

Instinct tore up through her, gripping her, and she became desperate to exploit their momentary weakness, to assert herself.

TAG SHOULD HAVE sensed it in her. If he hadn’t been drugged by the feel of her heat wrapped tightly around him he could have gained control before it was too late. After years, the truth was nothing like his fantasies. She was fire, intense, consuming. Turning them to ash before he knew what she was about.

As it was, he was barely able to brace their fall as she rocked violently against him, taking him deep and clenching down so hard his eyes rolled. The back of the roller chair snapped off. He barely had time to brace her over him as the base of the damn thing shot away and they slammed to the floor. Beside him, his brother hit his knees and groaned in agony as she drew him back into her mouth.

“Oh God.” Vin’s hoarse cry sounded like it was torn from him as his body convulsed. The little moans Brit was making as she took everything his brother had to give had Tag’s balls drawing up against the base of his cock threateningly. When she left Vin crumpled on the floor like a damn rag to turn her attention on Tag, those blue eyes electric with power, Tag knew he was a goner. And it was too late to do a damn thing about it.

She fisted her small hands in the shirt and rode him, head flung back, hair falling in a red cloud around her shoulders. She took everything, giving him no choice. Sobs broke from her, and she dropped her forehead to his chest as she convulsed around him, the muscles of her pussy clamping down so hard she ripped his orgasm from him. Hands gripping her thighs, he arched and roared as she mentally drew him in, making his pleasure hers.

Fuck.

Heart thundering violently in his ears, Tag tried to touch her, to pull her down to him, but she jerked away, falling back on her ass between his sprawled legs.

“Brit.” He growled, and she lifted her head, long elliptical pupils dissecting her bright cerulean eyes. One corner of her pretty mouth lifted on a snarl as she pushed to her feet. She still wore those damn heels he found so sexy.

Brit stumbled back, looking around in confusion. The hunting vision was new to her and was probably disorienting. She smoothed down her skirt and pulled her shirt closed before running from the room.

“It’s too late.”
Vin’s flat voice came across their private link.
“Let her go.”

No shit.
Like he’d be able to chase after her right now. Tag looked down at himself. He was sprawled on the floor of the damn interrogation room, his jeans pushed halfway down his hips, and his cock lay limp, spent against his stomach. The back of the chair that broke away was still under him, and the base was…he looked around…under the fucking table.
Hell.

One look at Vin proved he wasn’t in any better condition, half-propped against the wall. Tag let his head drop to the floor with a thump.

“Fuck, that hadn’t gone quite like I thought it would.”

She’d left them both destroyed on the floor, fully mature Drachon. One of them could make two of her, and she’d taken them both to the ground. A satisfied smile curled at the corner of his lips, lips that still tasted of her.

“I think we lost that mating challenge,” Vin said in bemusement. “And my daemos is…proud.”

Tag snorted. Part of the mating ritual was the challenge between the female’s and the male’s daemos. The female wouldn’t accept the male as her mate and mark him until his dragon subdued her. Before he even realized what happened, she’d challenged their dragons, and the bastards had rolled right over just for the promise of a taste. Inside him, his dragon stretched lazily, completely content to let his mate have this one.

“She’s not going to go easy.” Vin sighed.

“No, she isn’t.” Tag smiled, folding his arms behind his head. “But she’s going to be so worth it.”

Chapter Eleven

Brit slid the keyboard away from her and arched her back, suddenly aware of the throbbing ache there. And the one in her head. She’d been bent over this computer transcribing the GenTest files from memory for more hours than she cared to recount. As was so often the case, she turned off the demands of her body to enable the demands of her mind.

Her body never failed to reassert itself into her consciousness, however, reminding her how human she was. She moved on stiff legs to the small lounge at the back of her lab and opened the mini refrigerator to pull out a flavored water. She eyed the sofa with longing but didn’t dare even sit on it. It would be heavenly to just lay her head down and prop her feet up for ten minutes, but it would take less than one minute to fall asleep. She’d learned her lesson last night when she attempted to avoid the Neanderthal twins and sleep on the sofa here in the lab. Sleep meant dreams, and dreams gave those invasive bastards another outlet to molest her mind.

“Molest?”
Tag’s mocking voice weaved through her own thoughts.
“That’s a bit harsh, especially since that dream was yours. Since I starred in it, I took it as an invitation.”

“Stay out of my head, Taggart,” Brit snapped and then closed her eyes in an attempt to calm the sudden surge of irritation. She knew he could hear her. He’d wired nearly every square inch of the Incog building for sight and sound. Of course she seemed to warrant extra attention. He couldn’t stop with his voyeur fetishes. He also had to invade her very thoughts.

“Lately your thoughts have been so very…interesting.”

Brit snorted. Right. Her thoughts? More like fantasies. After their little interlude in the interrogation room, she couldn’t seem to stop thinking about them, imagining what it would feel like to have one of them deep inside her body again.

Stop. Stop thinking
, she commanded her libido and ignored the sexy chuckle that echoed through her mind.

Brit twisted the cap off the bottle and lifted it to her lips. She caught sight of the sleek metal bracelet that surrounded her wrist. It was an electronic device that monitored her whereabouts. Tag could tell where she was at in the building through the damn thing. It was like being under house arrest. That was her punishment.

“It’s not a punishment, baby.”
Tag’s voice was serious now—cajoling even—which just made the invasion all the more infuriating.
“It’s a security measure for your protection. A lot of people would kill to get their hands on that talented little mind of yours.”

Brit fought the urge to throw her bottled water at the camera mounted in the corner of the room and struggled to strengthen her mental barriers. She was tired, exhausted really. Her throat ached, she assumed from the constant struggle not to scream.

“And being denied access to the victims coming from the GenTest facility? Is that for my protection as well?” Brit sniped back before taking another drink of water.

Silence. Right. Because that
was
a punishment.

Somewhere floors above her lab in the Incog building, the victims of Dr. Rupple’s mad science were being treated. Her sister could be among them, but Brit wouldn’t know, because she now lacked the security clearance to access those floors. She was restricted to her lab and Tag’s suite of rooms. All she had to do was tell Tag about her sister still being alive, and she knew he would find her. Yet she hesitated to share the information. Why? Was it the same reason she hadn’t told anyone just how serious Katya’s condition was?

It was her responsibility—her weight to bear. She had caused all of this back in the Dublin labs all those years ago, and she would make it right. She just needed more information—more research.

“Will I at least have access to the data they’re collecting from the victims?” Brit smoothed her hand down the front of her lab coat. If she had access to the medical information on those poor people, she would certainly be able to determine if her sister was among them. It would buy her more time before she had to tell Tag everything.

“Forestor brought in the best scientists the Arcane has to offer to work on this, Doc,”
Tag responded, but he sounded distracted.

Brit turned to face the camera and used her haughtiest voice. “I am the best the Arcane has to offer, Taggart, without contest.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”
Tag sighed.
“In the meantime, try to take a nap. You haven’t slept much in almost twenty-four hours.”

Brit turned to gaze at the sofa with longing. It wasn’t happening. Her body was already responding to them in disconcerting ways, and she wasn’t opening herself up for worse. She’d taken a blood sample earlier to do a work-up on herself, afraid that her body was changing to accept them as her mates. Tag had refused to donate, and she hadn’t seen Vin since that incident in the interrogation room.

Heat flushed her body at the memory, and she took another drink of water, stifling the urge to press the cool bottle to her cheek. Tag was watching her; she could practically feel his gaze on her skin like a touch, which only made it worse. There was no way she would give him the satisfaction of actually seeing his effect on her.

Brit cleared her throat, but her voice still came out thick. “I have some files yet to transcribe, and Katya and Agent Merrick are coming to the lab for blood work.”

“Then take a break and eat. Forestor had the kitchen on the upper level opened up to feed all the extras we have.”

Brit eyed her water with a sigh. She’d been in this lab for over a day, even opting to shower here. It might be beneficial to get away for a short period, collect another change of clothes, because she was certainly not staying in Tag’s apartment tonight either. Just then her stomach rumbled. A decent meal wouldn’t hurt either.

“Very well.” It only took her a moment to hang up her lab coat and log out of her computer, careful that the information she’d inputted would be protected. She was still discomfited by so many unseen strangers having access to the records she held in her memory, even if Forestor did trust them. However, she was capable of seeing the benefit. There were more than a hundred subject files from the GenTest data, which meant more than a hundred victims to process and treat. It would be easier to match and combine the subject files with the actual person if Tag and Katya worked their program magic.

It didn’t mean she had to like it.

Brit walked to the door and waited. Her security clearance had been revoked in every department of the building. Tag had to remotely open each door from the control room, or she had to be with another person who was authorized. A buzz and click signaled the door was unlocked, and she pulled it open, carefully suppressing her sense of rejection at that loss of trust.