Shadow Rising (28 page)
The kiss deepened, and Ariane slipped her arms over his shoulders, sliding her fingers into the hair at the sensitive nape of his neck. Everything within him went loose and fluid at her touch, flooding him with warmth. She moaned softly, the sound a plea for more. It stoked the hunger in him, seemingly endless, and always for her. Her hands, as light as a butterfly’s wings, stroked his neck, his face, his shoulders.
When he slid his hand up to cup her breast, she arched into his touch while he teased her tongue with his own. She sighed into his mouth.
“Let’s go back to the house,” she said. “I need you.”
He shuddered, those words as pleasurable as a caress. But he had no intention of taking her back to the house, full of people. He wanted her here, alone… his. What was to be done would happen here, just the two of them in the dark.
“I’ve got you all to myself right now,” he murmured. “Do you really think I’m going to give that up?”
He toyed with the hard little bud of her nipple when she pulled back to look at him. “But… we’re in a graveyard.”
He chuckled and dropped a kiss on her cheek, then on her jaw. “It’s just grass and stone, kitten. Pretend we’re in a park.”
“A park,” she sighed as his mouth played against sensitive skin, tilting her head back to allow him better access. “I could try that.”
He nibbled at the soft skin of her neck. “Mmm. No one watching but the squirrels.”
She laughed, and the sound rippled through him, making him smile.
“That’s… creepy.”
“You’re right,” he murmured. “Forget the creepy squirrels. Just focus on me.”
“With pleasure.”
There were so many things he wanted to teach her, show her. If there was one thing he understood, it was pleasure. Funny how he had never cared much about anyone else’s until he had found her.
Damien kissed her again, allowing the feel of her, the taste of her to become everything. Every care and worry faded until there was nothing but the two of them, entangled in the grass.
Her need was so raw, so unguarded, that it fueled his own. Every small gasp she made, every moan was music to him. He took one of her hands in his own and guided it down, pressing it against the rigid bulge between his legs.
“See what you do to me, Ariane,” he breathed, his
breath catching when she stroked him, pressing firmly against him with the palm of her hand.
“I know,” she breathed. “I like making you hot.”
He gasped as she changed her rhythm just slightly, making the muscles in his stomach tighten. “I’ve corrupted you. Utterly.”
“Yes. Thank you,” she said, flicking her tongue over his earlobe, then biting just hard enough to hurt. He surged against her hand, suddenly more aroused than he’d ever been in his life.
“Enough,” he ground out, pulling her hand away. “I want to take my time with you. I want to make you burn like I do.”
“I want you,” she confessed, rising to her knees in front of him. “All the time.”
He thought that he had never heard sweeter words.
“Then you shall have me, kitten. Turn around and hang on to the stone.”
She obliged him without question, though there was a moment’s hesitation when he realized she was reading the name of whatever poor sod was buried somewhere beneath them.
“He doesn’t care,” Damien said. “And if there are any ghosts here, they’re cheering us on. Close your eyes, darling.” He positioned himself behind her, sliding his hands up her thighs and gathering up fabric beneath them as he went. He drew the material up over the silky little pair of underpants she wore and stopped breathing for a moment at the sight of her firm, rounded little ass.
“Hmm. These are lovely, but they’re going to get in my way.” He extended his claws, and with quick precision sliced the fabric at her hips so that the two pieces fell to
the ground beneath her. Then he reached beneath her to stroke and tease, finding her already deliciously wet. She shivered at his touch, and he saw her hands reflexively grip the top of the stone harder. He played her expertly, flicking a teasing finger over the tight little bud of her sex, then slipping it inside of her and back again. Her hips began to rock back against him, pressing hard into his hand. His own breath began to come in short, sharp little pants.
When he slipped his finger inside of her again, she came with a broken cry, arching back into him. Damien withdrew quickly when her climax began to ebb, shaking with need of his own. Her reactions to him were so open, holding nothing back, and here, in this, he would do no less for her.
“Don’t move,” he instructed her. She seemed to melt against the stone as he stood.
“Don’t worry, I can’t,” she told him, her voice thick with pleasure.
He smiled and removed his clothes as quickly as he could. Kneeling behind her, he pulled her back against him, sliding his cock between her legs. She tensed reflexively, and his eyes nearly crossed with the pleasure. All this, and he wasn’t even inside of her yet. He unzipped the dress. Wordlessly, she straightened and lifted her arms, allowing him to lift it over her head. Both that and her bra were quickly tossed to the side.
“So beautiful. I can’t bloody think with you naked and on your knees,” he growled. Then he pulled her hips back into him and thrust inside of her, burying himself all the way to the hilt. Ariane gasped, and her muscles clenched around him. Damien’s mouth opened in a silent shout,
and he only barely clung to what little control he had left. She was so hot, so very tight.
Slowly, he began to move in her, his every thrust and withdrawal provoking the sweetest sounds from Ariane. He kept his rhythm measured, contained, not wanting to overwhelm her by pinning her against the headstone and slamming into her until he was spent.
Then she reached back to squeeze one of the hands gripping her hips, looking over her shoulder with an expression that was pure heat.
“More,” was all she said.
He couldn’t have disobeyed her even if he’d wanted to. As soon as she turned her head away, Damien tipped his head back, dug his fingers into her hips, and began to move in hard, deep thrusts that rocked her body. He felt his chest beginning to vibrate with the purr that was always close to the surface when Ariane was near, losing himself in waves of increasingly intense pleasure. He took her harder, harder, until her hands had slid to the ground and she was on all fours in front of him, allowing him to drive deeply inside of her.
He faintly heard Ariane gasp his name as she tightened around him. The thread of his control, already gossamer thin, snapped completely. He withdrew, grabbed Ariane, and dragged her to the ground beneath him, driving into her with such force that she cried out.
He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. All that mattered was Ariane, taking her, keeping her, making her his in a way no one would ever be able to question.
Every inch of her body was pressed against his, tensed at the edge of a climax he knew would shatter them both. Beneath him, her eyes were heavy-lidded, fire bright with
need, and her pale skin was flushed with exertion. Her mark, her wings, stood out in stark relief near her neck. The sight of them stirred the beast inside of him that he had always kept at bay. Until now.
He began to thrust into her again, his hips moving quickly as he pushed them both toward climax. Pure animal instinct had him lowering his head, putting his teeth to the soft skin of her throat. Her felt her press a hand to the back of his neck, urging him on.
“Yes,” she whispered.
For once in his long, sorry life, there was no hesitation. He knew exactly what he wanted. Her.
Damien sank his teeth into her, tasting blood that was bright, pure power. There was a flash of white light before his eyes. Then he felt the prick of Ariane’s fangs, and he was being bitten for the first time since his mortal life had been taken from him. His orgasm slammed through him, and he felt Ariane clamp tight around him as her body responded in kind. They rode each intense wave together, drinking deeply from one another as they joined with the sort of deep intimacy that only the night races were capable of.
It was bliss. It was everything. It was
right
. He felt it with every fiber of his being.
When the pleasure had ebbed and he could think again, when his mouth brushed hers as he gathered her against him, the two of them lay curled like a pair of kittens that had spent all their energy and needed a nap. Damien could feel the change Ariane’s blood had wrought in him as it worked through his system and knew he had fundamentally altered his existence.
He didn’t care.
Whatever happened next, Ariane would never be able to just walk away from him, something people had been doing with great regularity for both his mortal and his vampire lives.
Ariane was his. And he protected what was his.
Damien’s fingers brushed the single black cat now curling around the edge of Ariane’s Grigori wings, as though guarding them, and he was full of a single, satisfied thought.
Mine
.
D
AMIEN HAD NEVER BEEN AN EARLY RISER,
so he was surprised when his eyes opened to find the clock on the nightstand reading 8:34. Outside, in the world beyond the heavily lined curtains, he knew the sky was still beautiful and bruised as the sun vanished below the horizon.
Inside, he appeared to have spent the day curled around Ariane’s lithe form, his nose buried in the silken cascade of her hair. Tentatively, he raised his head just enough to see her mark. It stood out dark against her skin, his cat guarding her wings.
He hadn’t dreamed it. He’d joined with her. She was his.
Damien ruminated on this as he nuzzled her hair again, breathing in Ariane’s scent. She stirred slightly, making a pleasant little noise in the back of her throat. He felt the purring start up in his own throat and didn’t bother to fight it this time. It was no use.
Besides, he knew very well that he’d spent most of the previous night making the same sound.
Mind-bending sex would do that to a man.
Damien rested his hand on Ariane’s hip, stroking it absently, and mulled where to go from here. She would need things. The
best
things. A lovely home, clothes, baubles, whatever struck her fancy. He protected his treasures, and Ariane was the greatest treasure he now possessed. He hadn’t been a fool for imagining what it might have been like to have a woman like her after all, pampered, guarded, tucked away so that he could enjoy her light during every spare moment he had.
Somehow, he’d actually made it happen.
Damien smiled lazily, satisfied. They were well suited, really. He adored everything about her, and she seemed willing to put up with him even though he’d made no secret of his limits. He had little to offer a woman, or anyone, really. Not even his heart—he’d given up on the nebulous idea of “love” ages ago. He didn’t believe in it. Love was just a word, a cudgel used to bludgeon someone into submission with until they got sick of it, or you.
But he wanted her. He needed her. He could provide for her.
That
was all real enough. So here they were.
Damien looked down at Ariane as she began to waken. Her hair fanned out on the sheets in a pale semicircle, draped over the arm he rested on and feeling like rare silk. Her long, inky lashes were still twined together, though he could tell she was no longer truly asleep by the way she rubbed her feet together where they rested against his legs. Her skin was luminous, as though the night they’d spent exploring one another had left a glow.
A pretty thought. She’d spoiled him for all other women. Nothing, he knew, would ever top last night… though he intended to spend centuries trying.
On the nightstand, his cell phone buzzed into life, the fact that it was vibrating instead of ringing making it no less annoying.
Ariane gave a soft groan. “It’s
early
.”
“I know, darling. I’ll make it go away.”
Damien lifted up on his elbow and looked at the number.
Drake
. Of course it was. The man had a knack. Damien bared his teeth at the phone, then slid out of bed and fumbled around for a pair of pants to put on. Ariane barely stirred, opening one bleary eye to watch him.
“I have to take this, sweet. Just business. Close your eyes, and I’ll be back in no time.”
“Mmm,” she murmured. “It’s cold in here without you. Don’t be gone long.”
He left the room thinking that he would gladly spend the rest of his days lounging in bed with her. He always seemed to be hungry for her—her voice, her touch, her smiles. Her body. And though Damien knew it was archaic, knowing he had been her only lover had ignited the sort of possessiveness in him that even his rarest treasures could not inspire. She had given herself to him. Only him.
Now he would make sure he was all there would ever be.
The phone began to vibrate again, and Damien slipped out the door, padding barefoot down the hallway and then ducking into an empty bedroom to take the call.
“You’re up early.”
“So are you. I thought I’d have to call at least five or six more times to get your ass out of bed.”
Drake sounded like he always did, gruff and in a
hurry. Nothing seemed amiss… except for the dread that rolled through Damien the moment his employer began to speak. Which was nonsense. He’d known a new job would come in. He would simply tuck Ariane into his life, and go on about his business. Nothing had really changed.
Except that apparently, everything had changed. He rubbed at his mark, barely aware he was doing it.
“What do you have for me?” Damien asked.
Drake chuckled. “No small talk? You must really want out of there. I wouldn’t have left you hanging for so long, but there was always the off chance the Grigori would come back to the table. It didn’t seem right to pull you out until I was sure.”
“Meaning they came to collect their diamonds?”
Drake sighed. Money was the only thing he ever got wistful about.
“They came to collect their diamonds. We won’t be seeing anything like those again. Doesn’t it figure that you’d find the damned missing Grigori anyway? Bastards.”