Taming the Vampire: A Paranormal Romance Novella (6 page)

“Oh my God,” she said, jerking away. “I...I’m
sorry,” she said, staring at his shoulder. He glanced down, and saw
the impression of her teeth on his cotton shirt.

“Sorry for biting a vampire? That’s an
apology you never have to make, princess.”

He’d called her that before, with sarcastic
contempt. Now he heard the difference in his own voice, the
caressing tone that turned the word into an endearment, and wished
he could take it back. Soft words from him would only freak Liz
out. He forced himself not to tighten his hold, even when he felt
her tense up in his arms.

Every nerve in his body was attuned to her.
He felt the push and pull within her, and all he could do was
wait.

Finally she rested her forehead against his
chest with a sigh.

“This is weird,” he heard her say, and relief
flooded through him.

“A little,” he admitted. “But it’s only for
one night. And it doesn’t have to change anything.”

“So...you still hate me?” she asked, her
words muffled against his chest.

“You bet,” he said, his arms tightening
around her. “I hate your guts, Liz Marlowe.”

She hesitated a moment. Then her arms slid
around his waist as she turned her head slightly, pressing her
cheek against his breastbone.

“Tell me how much you hate me,” she said, and
he let himself stroke her hair as he’d wanted to do from the time
he’d met her. It was softer than silk against his fingers.

“I hate you with every bone in my body,” he
said firmly, and now he shifted his hold, sliding one arm behind
her shoulders and the other under her knees, standing up with her
cradled against his chest.

“Hey!” she protested, but her arms went
around his neck as she looked up at him. “Where do you think you’re
going?”

“I’m damned if we’re going to finish that
ritual on the cold floor when you’ve got to have a bed around here
somewhere. Over there, maybe?” he suggested, walking towards the
closed door at the other end of the room.

“No,” she said quickly. “I don’t want to go
in there. It’s too messy. I don’t—”

He ignored her protests and opened the door,
blinking a moment as he looked around the room, dimly lit by the
bedside lamp.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding,” he said. “This is
a pigsty.”

“I hate you, Jack,” she said, but she didn’t
fight him as he carried her over to the bed, piled high with
laundry.

“I know you do,” he answered as he swept the
laundry onto the floor and laid her gently in the center of the
queen-sized bed. “Tell me how much you hate me, Liz.”

He knelt beside her and stripped off his
shirt.

“I hate you...a lot,” she said breathlessly,
but her arms were reaching towards him, and then she was running
her hands ran over his bare chest.

He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch,
wondering why no woman, mortal or immortal, had ever affected him
like this one did.

“I wish I had time to do this right,” he
whispered. “I’d make you come until you don’t know your own name.
I’d make you belong to me.”

He’d gone too far, he realized as the words
left his mouth. Not just because he’d made Liz tense up again but
because he’d called to his own demon, the part of him that couldn’t
separate love from possession.

Love?

When had the word love come into this? Fear
swept through him—the same fear that was sweeping through Liz.

But he wasn’t going to let it stop him. He
moved quickly to strip off his jeans, dropping them onto the floor.
He was naked now. Vulnerable.

Liz was still tense. He couldn’t take the
words back, but...

“It’s just for one night,” he reminded her.
He grasped the hem of her skirt but didn’t tug it downward yet. “We
can do anything we want...pretend anything we want.”

He just needed to find a way past her
defenses, a way to make it safe for her to trust him. “Don’t you
get tired of being strong all the time?”

She wanted to give in. He could feel it.

He leaned in close. “Let me be the strong
one, just for tonight. Just for an hour. And then my strength will
belong to you,” he reminded her.

That did it. He felt her muscles relax, and
he wasted no time in pulling her skirt down her body and tossing it
on the floor.

He forced himself to look at her face and not
between her legs, even though the scent that rose from those damp
curls was almost killing him.

He reached for her tee shirt next, and she
didn’t resist him. He tugged it up over her head along with her
bra, and then she was naked, too.

“Have you ever wanted to pretend?” he asked,
looking down at her.

“Pretend what?” she whispered, her green eyes
enormous as she stared up at him.

“Pretend you belong to someone,” he said,
grasping his cock in his hand and stroking her slit with the head,
drawing even more moisture from her depths.

“Never,” she said firmly, but her eyes closed
and her head arched back against the pillow.

“Will you now?”

“Will I what?”

“Pretend you belong to me.”

Her eyes snapped open and she stared up at
him.

He couldn’t know how tempted she felt. How
his words stoked some kind of yearning in her, so deeply repressed
she hadn’t known it was there. If she let her guard down, if she
gave up control, would it destroy her?

Jack was staring down at her as though she,
and not he, was the one with the power. Which she would be, in a
matter of minutes. Could it really hurt to surrender just once, to
let him be in control?

“Yes,” she whispered.

He kissed her, hard. “Spread your legs,” he
told her, and she was surprised at how eagerly she complied.

He grabbed both her wrists and pinned her
hands above her head. “Leave them there.”

She nodded, so turned on she didn’t trust
herself to speak. She was more likely to moan than utter a coherent
word.

He looked so magnificent looming over her,
like a gladiator or a barbarian prince. In the next second he’d be
inside her, and it didn’t seem soon enough.

But then, instead, he headed south.

“Hey!” she cried out, grabbing his head with
both hands.

He looked up at her with his eyebrows raised,
his head poised an inch or two above the danger zone.

“I’m fairly certain I told you to leave your
hands where I put them,” he told her, his voice a low, warm
growl.

If there was any man in the world she’d allow
to go down on her it would be this one, but that particular act had
never appealed to her. Sexy undead barbarian guy
notwithstanding.

She cleared her throat. “Sorry,” she said
gruffly. “But I don’t do that. Or, well, have it done to me.
Whatever.”

“I know.”

“What? I mean, how could you know that?”

“Because you’re a warrior. You’d never let
yourself be that vulnerable with a man unless he was very, very
sure of himself—sure enough to convince you—and none of the guys
you’ve dated have been that confident.”

He was grinning now, and she glared back at
him. “I’ve been with plenty of confident guys.”

“If they never tasted you, they weren’t
confident enough. Or else they were just bad in bed. Not that it
matters. Between us, it’s not negotiable.”

“What do you mean, not negotiable? This is my
body we’re talking about.”

“Not right now. Right now, you belong to me.
Remember?”

She opened her mouth to protest, to take it
back, but he grabbed her wrists again, pinned them above her head,
and brought his mouth down on hers.

God, that vampire could kiss. He kissed like
he fought, every bit of his strength and passion and energy fused
into a single physical act.

He kissed her into submission, and when he
knew it, he pulled away.

“Your hands stay there, Liz. I mean it.”

This time, Liz closed her eyes and kept her
hands exactly where he’d put them, above her head on the
pillow.

He knew the exact moment she truly
surrendered, and he settled down between her legs with his hands on
the curve of her hips.

For a moment he just breathed in her scent.
Desire, strength, vulnerability—a thousand different things. Then
he lowered his head and licked softly.

A shudder passed through her, and he smiled
into the sweet tangle of curls. Then he licked again, a little
light-headed from the flavor of his warrior, and he wasn’t sure if
the next tremor he felt was Liz’s or his own.

He pulled back slightly and moved his hands
down to frame her. Strange that a warrior should have such softness
at her very center, such satin and rose petals. He let his thumbs
press into that silky skin, spreading her open. He blew cool air
against her and felt her whole body shake.

He needed to taste the deep places. He
settled himself in for a slow assault, his tongue tracing every
inch of her honeyed folds. Liz’s muscles spasmed and her legs
started to close in, pressing against his shoulders. He grabbed her
thighs and spread her wide again.

He thrust his tongue deep inside her, the
heat and flavor so intense he had to fight to keep his demon down.
Liz was close now, her clit swollen and throbbing, and he flicked
his tongue across that nub of flesh again and again, feeling the
tremors taking his girl to the place he wanted her to be. When she
finally fell apart she screamed, and Jack almost fell apart
himself.

He felt her drift slowly back to earth and he
made it as sweet for her as he could, licking her softly, his
tongue as delicate as a cat’s, before levering himself up to cover
her body with his own, absorbing the final waves of pleasure as he
kissed the sheen of sweat from her shoulders, her neck, her
face.

He lifted himself up on his elbows, and her
eyes fluttered open.

“Tell me who you belong to,” he said, knowing
it was foolish, pathetic even, but wanting to pretend she was his
for as long as she’d let him.

“You,” she whispered, her cheeks flushed and
her eyes dilated. Maybe he’d had to drug her with lust first, but
it was sweet to hear her say it.

“Tell me what you need.”

“You! Need you inside—please, Jack—”

And because he couldn’t wait another second
he slid in, to the hilt, and she was so hot and tight and wet stars
burst behind his eyelids.

Liz had been sure a split second ago that
nothing could feel as good as Jack’s tongue. Ten minutes before
that she would have sworn nothing could feel as good as Jack’s
fingers.

Now she knew she’d been wrong. Twice.

He was filling her, stretching her, touching
places no one else had ever reached. She opened her eyes, and saw
him staring down at her as if she were the only woman he’d ever
wanted. His neck muscles were corded, his jaw tight.

“Liz,” he said. His thrusts inside her were
hard and deep and possessive, each one sending a shock through her
over-loaded system.

“Liz,” he said again. “God, you’re so
beautiful.”

Something inside her began to crescendo, and
she could hardly believe it. “I can’t come again,” she gasped.

He lowered his forehead to touch hers, and
she thought he was smiling. “Yes, you can,” he told her. “I’ll come
with you, this time.”

His words sent her over the edge. Her muscles
spasmed, tightening around his cock, and she felt his whole body
jerk as he slammed into her one more time, calling out her
name.

A flash of light, a sound like thunder. Her
body was hotter than fire and colder than ice.

“Jack!” she shouted, confused by the light,
the noise, the riot of sensation that had replaced the sweetness
she’d been feeling just a moment before.

She reached out blindly, but Jack was gone,
his body no longer covering hers.

“Jack!” she cried out again, feeling for him,
and found him lying beside her. Her vision cleared, and he was
there, on his side, his face contorted with pain.

She rose up on her knees, frantic.
“Jack—what’s happening to you?”

The spell was hurting him, maybe killing him.
She slid an arm under his shoulders, and suddenly she was holding
him against her chest, cradled in her arms.

He didn’t weigh anything.

She carried him out of the bedroom, into the
living room, intending to end the spell by stamping out the burning
herbs.

“Liz—I’m all right,” Jack panted. She looked
at him and the pain was gone from his face. She set him on his feet
and he stared at her.

“My God,” he said.

Liz looked down at herself and saw that she
was glowing, tiny motes of light clinging to her skin in a nimbus
of radiance.

“I always knew we’d be good together,” he
said, and Liz looked up at him. He was smiling, but he looked
exhausted and ill.

“Jack, this isn’t a good idea. The
spell...it’s hurting you.”

“No,” he said quickly. “It’s taken my
strength, but I’m not hurt. I’ll be fine, I promise. The spell
worked perfectly. You should go now and find the Kraken. That’s
what tonight was about.”

She didn’t move.

“Go,” he said, his voice sounding stronger.
She hesitated another second, then turned to leave.

“Liz?”

She turned back immediately. “What?”

“I’m a little particular about who gets to
see you naked. The Kraken is not on my approved list. Maybe some
clothes?”

“Oh. Right.” She paused abruptly, looking at
him but seeing something else. “Jack, I can sense it. I know where
it is.” She took a deep breath. “It’s down by the waterfront. Near
Battery Wharf.”

She hurried back into the bedroom. She tore
some clothes before she figured out how to control her strength,
but after a few minutes she was wearing her usual jeans and tee
shirt and was striding along the deserted city streets. She could
still see the Kraken in her mind’s eye, down at the harbor, and she
knew the power flowing through her was giving her this ability.