Undying Embrace (14 page)

Chapter Twelve

The ride on the rear of bike had been exactly what Elle needed. Her body pressed into Arran’s firm back, the feel of the wind on her skin, and the exhilarating rush of speed on two wheels as the world blurred past. She flattened her palms against his abdomen and smoothed her hands along the ripples of his muscles. He felt so amazing in her arms, strong, solid. When she was with him, he made her believe anything was possible.

He turned off the highway and onto a dirt road. Dust rolled like enormous clouds around them as they roared past open fields of tobacco. She clamped her mouth tight against the vibrations coming off the washboard ridges in the road. The bike dipped, then bounced back out of a large hole, knocking her sideways on the seat. Her hand slipped from his waist, but she found the next best thing lower to grab and hang on to. His thigh. Arran’s hand snapped to her wrist, making sure she couldn’t let go. Elle repositioned, and the dirt road smoothed out, allowing him to release her wrist.

Enjoying the feel of the broad muscle contained within the leg of his jeans, Elle dropped her other hand. She grinned to herself. This was wicked, and she knew it. He was the one always in control. But she couldn’t help but take advantage of the fact that he was driving and couldn’t do a damn thing about her small exploration.

Elle slid her palms along his thighs and dipped between them. The bike jerked, but quickly recovered. If the hard evidence contained under his jeans was any indication, though, he was quite happy with her world tour. He leaned to his left for a turn, and she flung her hands back to his waist, holding on.

A small, dark cabin loomed ahead. Pecan trees formed a canopy over the front porch but left the rear of the house open to the moonlight, which glowed off the metal roof. Beautiful. Isolated. Perfect.

He rolled the bike right up to the front steps and killed the engine. Before she had a chance to move, he was off the bike. Tossing his helmet to the ground, he grabbed her around the waist, yanked her off the seat, and into his arms. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak. The feral look in his eyes had her pulse thumping out of control and filling her throat.

His hands roamed up her sides, then followed the curve of her arms up to her neck. The rough feel of his fingers against her skin sent a shiver down her spine. Her nipples hardened and ached beneath her bra, begging to be touched. By him. Moisture pooled within her panties, and arousal swelled the folds between her legs. God, she wanted him.

Arran’s nostrils flared, and his mouth parted on a slow exhale. She knew he’d caught the scent of her need, and his reaction only ramped up her desire. His grip tightened at her nape. A low growl rolled from his throat. He leaned in. Her stomach fluttered. Slowly he dipped his head, bringing his lips and nose a mere inch from her cleavage. A soft breeze of air tickled her breasts with his inhale. He moved from her chest, lifting his head until he reached her ear.

“You smell so damn good.” The rusty and dark edge of his voice detonated along her nerve endings. Her knees liquefied, and her butt bumped the seat of the bike. Arran lowered his arms to her waist, jerking her back to her feet and into his body. His erection dug into the juncture between her thighs.

Elle couldn’t stop the whimper tumbling from her. The soft caress of his lips trailed across her cheek and then drifted above her mouth. She closed her eyes. His breath smelled sweet, enticing. Like mulled spices on Christmas Eve. Her tongue curled behind her teeth, craving his taste. “God, woman, you’re killing me,” he growled against her lips, right before he claimed them.

Hard.

Desperate.

He kissed her as if she was his last taste of life.

Elle had never felt so cherished, so wanted. How in the world a simple kiss could relay such feeling, she’d never know. But kissing him was anything but simple. It was profound. And somehow, she knew when this night was over, her very soul would never be the same.

Arran’s hand dipped from her waist and swooped down under her knees. She was in his arms, holding him. Tasting him. He moved on her lips and inside her mouth precisely how she imagined he made love. Fluid. Thorough. Like a dancer on her body who knew exactly what pleased her.

Her feet touched the floor, and she opened her eyes. They were inside. Arran’s mouth left hers, and she sucked in a hungry breath. Her head spun, partly from the rapid beat of her heart and from the speed at which he’d carried her into the cabin. He kissed her cheeks, her hair, and then his head dropped to her neck. His tongue was hot on her skin as he licked at her pulse.

Nudging her thighs with his own, he guided her backward through the dark interior. Her back bumped a door, and it fell open, banging against an interior wall. Their breaths came in short pants. “Arran…” His name was a gasp on her lips. “I need…” Her mind whirled, searching for the words to describe the sensations, the desires her body demanded.

The sharp points of Arran’s fangs grazed her throat, and every hair on her body stood on end. Her back arched, and her core spasmed. “Oh God!” she cried out. She hadn’t expected this reaction, this feeling. Arran jumped back as if he’d been stabbed.

“I’m so sorry.” He scrubbed his face with both hands. “Gabrielle—Christ. What the fuck is wrong with me?” He turned his back. “You don’t need this right now. After what you’ve been through tonight—what you’ve seen. The last thing you could possibly want would be a vampire at your throat.” Arran groaned, and she would have sworn he’d been wounded.

He was so wrong and had completely misinterpreted her reaction. She eased forward. “You are exactly what I want.”

Arran whirled around. His eyes blazed with insatiable lust. “You’re confused, kitten.” He shook his head. “We’ve been down this road before. This isn’t what you want,” he said, taking a step in reverse, putting more distance between them.

What an ironic change. In the blink of an eye, she had somehow become the predator, and he the prey. She shivered, the power a heady rush. Witnessing the physical and mental pain Markus and Marguerite were capable of inflicting on her sister had been a wake-up call. It cemented in Elle’s mind just who the real monsters were. And the vampire standing before her was not on that list. Human life, like a candle’s flame, was so easily snuffed. She wanted to live and love, and her past wasn’t going to keep her from her future another minute longer. Tonight, she was ready, and Arran would be hers.

With every step Elle took toward Arran, he matched hers in the opposite direction. When his legs bumped an object
, h
e came to a halt. She peered around him. A large bed occupied the middle of the room. “You’re out of running room, vampire.” She quirked her lips and took the last few steps that placed her in front of him. “For the first time in seven years, Arran, everything is crystal clear. The wall of fear and denial inside my head has come crashing down. I know what I want. Who I want.” His breathing sounded harsh to her ears, as if he’d run a marathon. Yet he stood perfectly still. And if her words weren’t enough, she had a feeling what act would break the leash on the vampire’s control.

Reaching up, she wrapped her fist in the hair at his nape and pulled his head down toward hers. He moaned.

“Gabrielle, what are you doing?”

She lunged forward, burying her blunt and human teeth into the flesh at the base of his neck.

His entire body shuddered against her. She’d barely broken his skin, but it was enough to get her message across: she was ready for
everything
that came with loving Arran MacLain. The coppery flavor of his blood tingled her taste buds. Her heart stuttered and then surged in her chest. She yanked her head away and gasped for a lungful of air. Her pulse roared in her ears and beat in time between her legs. A wild, guttural noise rolled from him. The sound made her want to drop to her knees and rip at his zipper.

His large and roughened hands circled her arms. He jerked her into his hard chest, forcing her gaze to his. Fire circled his irises. “What have you done?” His body trembled. “I won’t be gentle.” His voice was like nothing she’d ever heard.

“I don’t care,” she breathed. “I need you inside me.”

“Fuck!” His eyelids lowered to half-mast.

“Yes. God… Arran. Please, fuck me.” Her shirt was over her head before she had the chance to ask twice. He grabbed at her bra, breaking the clasp at the front. She pulled at his T-shirt. “Off,” she ordered. “Let me touch you.”

He yanked his shirt from his body, then fumbled with the button and zipper to her jeans. Arran fell to his knees, taking her pants with him. Staring at the small patch of cotton covering her mound, he groaned. A second later, the material lay torn in two on the floor. Damn, she couldn’t be more wet. Arran straightened, and her feet left the floor. Turning, he lowered her onto the mattress.

She sprang back into a sitting position and reached for the button to his jeans. “I want to see you. Touch you.” His fingers beat her to the zipper.

“Not this time. I can’t do slow.” His jeans hit the floor, and his cock surged forward uncontained. He was large, thick, and the sight made her mouth water, her palms itch.

His broad chest lowered over hers, forcing her back as he descended. She inched farther onto the bed, making room for his massive build.
Oh God
. This was happening. He was above her. His cock brushed between her thighs. Her breath hitched, and she ran her palms up his arms, his biceps flexing beneath her touch.

“Please…” She was going to die if he didn’t bury himself inside her.

“Wrap your legs around me.”

Lifting her legs, she followed the hard feel of his thighs against her calf until they rested around his hips. The broad head of his cock slid between her folds, and her legs shook.

“Fuck, you’re so hot and wet.” He groaned. “Can’t hold back. Forgive me.” His hips pistoned forward. She cried out as every inch of his cock filled her. Stretched her until his balls tapped her rear. “So tight. Damn. So damn good.” He leaned in and feathered kisses across her lips.

“Yes, so good,” she murmured against his mouth. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

He pulled back, and she wanted to scream from the loss. Arran surged forward again, awakening every nerve inside her pussy. She’d had sex before. It wasn’t like she was a virgin, but it’d been years. Not since she was nineteen, the year Arran had saved her life, and she’d become a part of the Enclave. But it had never felt like this. So good. So…right. She tilted her hips, matching his stroke, taking him deeper. Arran leaned in, grinding his pelvis into her clit.

“Yes, please… Right there.” She tossed her head back, squeezing his hips with her thighs, and he slammed his mouth down onto hers.

Dominant.

Claiming.

Yet she didn’t submit. Instead, she kissed him back with as much possession as he took. His growl vibrated inside her mouth. A second later, Arran broke their kiss but kept his lips connected to hers, bathing them with his.

“
Is gradhaich leam thu
,” he breathed into her mouth. She had no idea what the words meant, but the ragged sound of his voice as he uttered them rocketed her to the brink of release.

Elle moaned, her climax so close. As if sensing her need, he rotated his hips and picked up speed. Each thrust of his cock rubbed and thumped the collection of nerves inches inside her entrance, and every rotation of his hips applied the pressure she desperately needed. A euphoric wave of sensation, centering deep inside her, expanded. Her core clenched, wanting more of the hard feel of his length. The wave crested. Her body tightened. She squeezed her eyelids shut, but the pleasure couldn’t be contained.

“Arran!” she cried out, digging her nails into his arms as it rolled through her. Rocking her.

She hadn’t come down from the bursts of ecstasy skating along her nerve endings when he captured her earlobe in his teeth. Elle’s breath caught, and her eyes popped open. He continued to pump his hips, slowly working his cock in and out of her, maintaining a constant buzz to her mind and body.

One of his callous hands settled on her breast. His fingers lightly squeezed a nipple, drawing her hips up and into another downward thrust. She whimpered under the exquisite pleasure-pain.

“Tell me what you feel,
annsachd
,” he whispered at her ear. “Who do you feel?”

Oh God
. “You.”

The warm, wet feel of his tongue brushed her ear.

“My name.” The moist heat of it, then dragged across her neck. “Say it.” His hips stilled, his erection deep inside, but holding more of the pleasure she craved hostage.

“Arran, it’s you. I feel you.” Whatever he wanted, she’d say it as long as he didn’t stop.

“Who’s loving you, kitten?” His fangs scraped her flesh, stealing her breath. His shaft eased from her one hard inch. She gasped, clamping down on his retreat, not wanting it to end.

“It’s you, Arran. You’re loving me.” Her voice trembled. “Don’t stop.”

“Whose cock is deep inside your pussy?” He slammed home again as if to make his point, driving a moan from her throat.

“Arran’s. Only you, Arran.” She reached up, grabbed his head, sinking her fingers into his hair. “Now. Please…do it now.”

“
Annsachd
.” His lips brushed her skin as he mumbled the strange word again at her throat. A sharp sting pierced her flesh. She jerked, but strong arms held her still. His lips pulled at her neck, and her mouth fell open on a soundless scream. Not from pain, but from the most incredible electric storm of rapture. Her hips lifted from the bed and drove into his. Deeper. Yes, more. More of him.

Another orgasm seized her, sweeping her back into the storm. His mouth jerked from her neck, and her name filled the room on a shout. Hot seed filled her depths. She wrapped her arms around him, floating in bliss as he rocked through his climax. His heartbeat pounded against her breast. She kissed the hollow of his neck, reveling in the knowledge that she’d been right about tonight. Her soul had been changed forever.

She’d lost a piece of it…and it belonged to Arran MacLain.