Chapter Seven
Onyx’s breath caught in her throat as his lips took hers. Her only warning had been the heat that flared in his eyes, along with a grim sense of determination. He wasn’t happy with what she’d done. He didn’t seem to understand or accept she was all in. There was no backing away from the coming fight or from him.
Magic sang in her veins as their tongues tangled together. He yanked his head back, ending the kiss as abruptly as it had begun. She was breathing heavily, chest heaving. “This is madness.” One of them had to make a stab at sanity. They were like two wild animals, circling each other, testing but not fully trusting.
A muscle in his jaw flexed. “I don’t care.” He tugged on her braid, bringing her head back. “A truce for the next two hours. Magic and the rest of the world be damned. This is between you and me.”
He’s going to be the death of me. The thought was fleeting, but she acknowledged the truth of it. She was already way in over her head where Dagen was concerned. Why else would she make a blood vow? She could have as easily told him there was no way to counter the spell the alchemist had woven into the fiber of the journal. He’d have been none the wiser.
No, idiot that she was, she’d wanted to prove herself. Not only to him but to herself. Her blood was tainted. Her entire existence had been dedicated to rising above it, countering it, gaining the skill and knowledge to battle it. She hadn’t asked for her life, any more than he’d asked for his. All they could do was rise to the occasion and prove their worth.
“Onyx?”
“It won’t change anything.” She echoed his words back at him even as her heart cried out that the opposite was true. It would change everything.
The muscle in his jaw flexed again. He didn’t like that. Too bad. She hadn’t liked it when he’d said it earlier but that didn’t make it any less true. His gaze narrowed, but he gave a curt nod. “So be it.”
“Aren’t you afraid I’ll take advantage when your guard is down?” She wanted to slap her hand over her mouth. Why would she say such a thing? Was she deliberately trying to push him away?
“Aren’t you?”
Frustrated at his non-answer, she made a sound of utter frustration. “This isn’t sensible.” They needed to focus on work, not the simmering sexual heat threatening to bubble over.
“Are you always sensible?”
She grabbed his rock-hard biceps. “Will you stop responding to everything I say with a question?”
“Why should I?”
“You’re the most aggravating man.”
A small smile played at the corners of his lips. “But you want me anyway.”
She’d find out soon enough if this was a game he was playing. Maybe she was setting herself up for a world of hurt, but what did it matter? She’d made a vow to protect him at any cost. Her life had already been tied to his. Now it belonged to him.
As he belongs to me.
She’d never say those words aloud. Any attempt to claim him would drive him away. He took the title “lone wolf” to heart. “Two hours.” She didn’t think there’d ever be a time when she didn’t want him. But he’d never accept a pledge of devotion and would never believe it. Two hours of hot sex might be all she’d ever have of him. Her life had been filled with pain for as far back as her memory went. At least these hours would give her something good to balance the rest.
Sex between them would be off the charts.
“Let’s not waste a second of it.” He scooped her into his arms.
“Wait,” she cried as he began to carry her away. “What about the journal? Is the fire out?”
He stalked over to the sink where a mangled blackened ruin lay. “It’s done.” Without another word, he took her to the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. “Unless someone beats down the damn door, nothing interrupts us for the next couple hours.” Rather than toss her on the bed and drag her clothes off, he set her down. “Agreed?”
If the muscles in his body grew any tauter, they’d snap. His biceps bulged; his chest rose and fell with every deep breath he took. His erection was outlined against the fabric of his jeans. She couldn’t look away.
“Onyx?”
What was it he’d said? “Agreed.” She was tired of running and hiding and fighting. Mentally, physically, and emotionally, she was exhausted. She wanted to lay down her burdens for a short time and lose herself to the pleasure of being with the man she craved, the man who’d whispered his way into her dreams.
He slid his hands under her top, his fingers warm against her skin. “Let’s get this off.” She raised her hands to make it easier for him. He gave a hum of pleasure as he tossed it aside. “You’re beautiful.” Fingertips trailed over the edge of her bra. Her breasts swelled inside the lacy navy cups.
Always on the move, she couldn’t accumulate things the way most people did. A vagabond, she had to be ready to run at a moment’s notice. Where she did indulge herself was with pretty lingerie and jewelry. Both were easily transported and bolstered her confidence.
He went down on one knee before her and dragged his tongue over the thin material. Her nipple puckered, tightening to the point of pain. She gripped his shoulders and let her head fall back on her neck, losing herself in the delicious sensations. Done with the first breast, he worked his way over to the other.
Her knees had turned to jelly by the time he kissed a path down her stomach to the waistband of her jeans. She sucked in a breath when he opened the snap and pulled down the zipper. The genuine smile on his face made her heart skip a beat. He’d always been handsome, but the almost boyish expression made her fall a little bit in love with him.
“I love that the panties match.” He traced the part of the band that was exposed.
“It’s a weakness.” Her voice was breathy. Speaking was almost beyond her.
“I approve. You were made to wear silk and lace.” Shoving his big hands inside her jeans, he pushed them down, leaving her panties. Steadying herself against his body, she waited as he removed each shoe and sock and finally the jeans, leaving her clad only in her underwear and jewelry. He sat back on his heels.
The urge to cover herself was almost too great to deny, but she managed. This was worse than being totally naked. He was seeing her secret vices, the parts of her she kept hidden from others.
“You’re a formidable woman, strong and intelligent, but this is an entirely different side of you I never expected.” Leaning inward, he nuzzled her mound.
The sound she made was almost a squeak. Her entire body was turning to liquid fire beneath his gentle touch. She’d anticipated hard, hot sex, not a patient lover. The unexpected contrast was intoxicating. Her panties were damp. It was impossible for him not to scent her arousal. Her skin ached for his hands to stroke it.
“Now you.” Time to take back a measure of control. Grabbing the fabric of his shirt, she yanked. As she did so, he raised his arms, allowing her to remove it.
His shoulders were broad and thick with muscle, strong enough to carry the weight of the world. And he had. He needed this respite as badly as she did. On his knees before her, he should have seemed a supplicant, but strength bled from every pore of his body. His dominance in no way diminished.
He placed his hand on her stomach and gave a small push, sending her sprawling onto the bed behind her. She bounced once before settling. Rather than join her, he positioned himself between her legs. Starting at her ankles, he ran his hands up her calves and over her thighs, pushing them wider.
The anticipation was driving her out of her mind, making her sweat. She was so aroused a breath of wind might send her careening over the edge. “Touch me.” She was tired of waiting.
He turned his head inward, kissing the inside of her knee before working his way upward. Her core fluttered. If she didn’t orgasm soon she might have to resort to drastic measures. She started to shove up on her elbows but his head snapped up and he growled. His eyes glowed, backlit with some inner light. “Mine.” The guttural word sent a fresh rush of arousal through her.
Dagen was no modern man. He was a primal wolf. And she was no ordinary woman, but a powerful mage. The normal rules didn’t apply. It didn’t step on her independence to have him claim her. It was an indication of how much he wanted her. And he wasn’t the only one feeling possessive.
“And you’re mine.”
Large fangs extended from his mouth, sharp and deadly weapons that could rip her to shreds. Heart hammering against her chest, she lay back on the mattress, her gaze never leaving his face.
One smooth fang dragged over her skin without breaking the flesh. She fisted her hands by her sides. He hooked it beneath the edge of her panties. Rip! Cool air blasted over her heated flesh as he caught the fabric in his teeth and peeled it back to expose her.
Oh, God. Talk about sexy. Dagen was danger and desire wrapped up in one incredible package. And it wasn’t only the way he looked—which on a scale of one to ten was a solid fifty—it was his intelligence, his loyalty to his fellow lone wolves and his people. It was how he did the hard tasks, making the difficult choices. Asking nothing for himself in return.
“I’m going to eat you up.”
Her legs opened in reflex. “Yes, please.” If he wanted her permission, he had it.
Dark laughter sent goose bumps skittering over her skin as his mouth settled over her core. Rather than take his time, he sucked her clit into his mouth and drove a thick finger inside her.
Primed, her orgasm blasted through her. Her hips pumped into the air. Hands ripped at the bedcovers. Tilting her head back, a low scream escaped. Lava flowed through her, thick and hot, pooling between her legs. A bead of sweat rolled down her temple.
Rather than stop, he kept going, drawing her release out until she was lost to the endless pleasure. Right when she thought she couldn’t take any more, he pulled back. Her entire body melted into the bed. Through slitted eyes, she watched him lick his lips. Her inner muscles quivered, on the verge of another orgasm.
He rose to his feet and methodically stripped off his boots and socks, ending with his jeans. He was commando beneath.
His cock was long and thick, wrapped in dark veins that rhythmically pulsed with the beat of his heart. The tip was broad and smooth and glossy with moisture. He gripped the base and pumped up and down. The sight of his big hand wrapped around his erection had her body heating up again.
When she licked her lips and reached for him, he blocked her. “Not this time. I want my cock buried deep inside you when I finally come.”
She opened her arms in welcome.
…
He hadn’t been this close to losing it since he was a teenager. Onyx looked like some pagan goddess spread out on the bed, jewelry glinting at her ears and around her throat and wrists. Her skin was dewy with perspiration. The spicy scent of her orgasm was one hell of an aphrodisiac. The way she’d given herself to him, open and without restriction, blew his mind.
The possessive satisfaction that ripped through him didn’t go unnoticed.
Two hours, he reminded himself. That’s how long she belonged to him. Ignoring the pang of regret, he lifted her higher on the bed.
She’d trusted him, even when his fangs had dropped. That had shocked the hell out of him. It hadn’t been intentional, but he’d gone with it. His wolf wanted to claim her, to mark her. He’d fought the temptation, focusing instead on her pleasure.
The remains of her panties were still secured on one side. Her bra was in place. Somehow, that added to the debauchery. It was the first time he’d ever lost control with a woman, ever shown his true self. It was yet another bond tying them together. It was both liberating and infuriating.
He didn’t want to want her this badly, but there was no way he was turning away from her open arms. He went down on top of her, supporting the bulk of his weight on his forearms to keep from crushing her. She was tall for a woman, but he had a foot on her, not to mention at least a hundred pounds of solid muscle, probably more.
When she opened her mouth to speak, he kissed her. He didn’t want to talk. Not now. That would come later. Her tongue tangled with his, challenging him. She would be his equal in and out of bed. Physically, she couldn’t match him. But her magic leveled the field.
This was a woman who fought her own battles, stood on her own two feet. She didn’t need him, but she wanted him. Talk about a turn-on. Conversely, it increased his need to protect her.
That wasn’t possible. His destiny had been set. In tying her life to his with the blood vow, she’d condemned herself. To save the other lone wolves, to protect his people, Solange and Charles had to die. He’d long ago accepted that it would likely cost him his life. It was a price he was willing to pay.
With a growl, he shook his head, banishing the thought. It had no place here. This time was for pleasure. First, he had to deal with practicalities. “Are you protected?” His kind carried no sexually transmitted diseases. As a witch, she’d be aware of that. But he’d been careful in his every sexual liaison to ensure there was no chance he’d ever father a child. He wasn’t sure such a thing was even possible. None of his research had uncovered a lone wolf having offspring.
It might be a genetic anomaly because of their immortality. He’d come to terms with never having pups, because, like a mate, they’d be a weakness to exploit.
Her eyes were glassy and her breathing labored, but she nodded. “I’m safe. I can’t afford to be pregnant and on the run.” She met his gaze, not flinching from the intensity. “A child would be a liability, give Solange a weakness to exploit.” Her logical words echoed his, but there was no disguising the longing behind them. Like him, she yearned for a family, for a home.
He shook his head, tamping down the softer emotions. They couldn’t be allowed to cloud his mind. This was about sex, nothing more. “Good.” He caught a flash of pain before her eyes fluttered shut. Damn, he was fucking this up.
Determined to get them back where they’d been before he’d opened his big mouth, he captured her lips, coaxing a response. Where she’d been sated and eager, there was now a barrier between them.
She’s pulling away. Not physically but emotionally and mentally. His wolf whined, unhappy with the situation. Dagen wasn’t exactly pleased with the turn of events. He had only himself to blame.
Taking all he’d learned in their short relationship, he dragged his tongue over hers and retreated. When she tentatively followed, taking the lead, he wanted to howl in triumph. Instead, he deepened the kiss until they were both breathless and her nails dug into his biceps.
She was more than ready for him, but it was no longer enough. He wanted her to be as greedy for him as he was for her. Nipping at her jawline, he worked his way down to her breasts. Manifesting a fang, he slit the band of her bra, exposing the creamy mounds. The hard tips rose proudly to greet him. He dragged the flat of his tongue over one.
Onyx gasped, her knees rising as she planted her feet on the mattress. “I love the roughness of your tongue.”
His cock jerked in response to her words. Need pounded through his veins, hotter than any fire. He licked a hot path over to her other breast and lapped at the tip before sucking it into his mouth. Her fingers gripped his hair, tugging him closer. Able to deny her nothing, he deepened the caress before doing the same to the other. Her soft moans had his balls pulling up tight.
Dragging himself away, he lifted his head. He wanted to watch her as they joined for the first time. And maybe the last. A growl rumbling up from deep inside him, he guided his erection to her opening. Her eyes began to close. “Look at me.” They snapped open. “Look at us.” Lifting his weight on his arms, he held his body over hers as he pushed his hips forward, sinking into her wet warmth.
She gasped as his shaft stretched her, her gaze riveted on where they were joined. It was hot as hell. Her inner muscles fluttered around his cock, squeezing it.
With a roar, he shoved the rest of the way in, throwing his head back. The pleasure was too intense. A tingle at the base of his spine warned he wouldn’t last. He paused to capture the moment. It was perfection, as he’d suspected it would be. This woman had been made for him in ways that had nothing to do with magic.
Supporting himself on his forearms once again, he began to move. There was no slow build-up. He was too far gone for finesse. Primal need crawled through him as he fucked her, driving hard and deep with each stroke.
And she was with him the entire way. The scent of fresh arousal incited his base instincts. Her moans and gasps urged him onward. Nothing would stop him from claiming her.
Her core fluttered, signaling another orgasm. Gritting his teeth against a howl that would be heard outside the building, he slammed home one final time. His release rocketed from the base and out the tip. Snarling, he buried his face in the curve of her neck, barely stopping himself from biting.
As he poured himself into her, she clutched at his back and shoulders. It was a pity the scratches faded almost as soon as they appeared. He wouldn’t have minded being marked by her. Rather than panic him, the idea was far too appealing. It was his last coherent thought before he collapsed on top of her.
When his breathing returned to normal, he eased the upper half of his body to the side to keep from smothering her. Not that she was complaining. Her eyes were closed, her cheeks rosy, and her lips flushed. The swelling at the base of his cock had them locked together—something that happened with all male wolves—making it impossible for him to get up and leave, which he normally did as quickly as possible after sex. Funny, the swelling usually retreated faster.
I don’t want to leave her.
Not liking that idea, he gritted his teeth and started to withdraw. When she groaned, he paused, not wanting to hurt her.
Her eyes fluttered open. “It’s okay.” That she understood his need to put distance between them perversely made him want to prove he could handle the closeness.
“I didn’t want to crush you.” It was a lame excuse and they both knew it.
Taking it out of his hands, she dug in her heels and scooted backward. He wanted to howl when his dick slid from her sheath. It was Onyx who slid off the bed and went to the bathroom. He’d barely caught a glimpse of her sweet ass before the door closed. Not with a bang, but with a soft click . That somehow made it worse.
He dropped down onto the bed and buried his face in the pillow. Huge mistake. It smelled of Onyx and sex. Rolling onto his back, he stared up at the ceiling. There were things to be done, plans to be made, yet he stayed where he was.
With his enhanced hearing, he listened as she cleaned herself up, washing away the remnants of their lovemaking. He was halfway off the bed to stop her when he realized what he was doing. Giving a huff, he fell back on the mattress, clenching his hands at his sides.
Several minutes passed before the door finally opened. Without glancing his way, she briskly walked to her clothes. Or what remained of them. The remnants of her bra and panties were on the bed.
Reaching out, he wrapped his hand around her wrist. “What?” she asked when she finally deigned to look at him. “You got what you wanted.” He winced at the almost wooden tone of her voice. “We both did.”
He might not have experience in relationships, but he understood he’d fucked up big time. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I know.” The sadness, the understanding made a knot form in his stomach. “That almost makes it worse.” She canted her head toward her wrist, which he was still holding. “Are you going to let me go?”
“Never.” She seemed as surprised as him by his vehement reply. “I wasn’t expecting the intensity.” Sex was something to enjoy, blow off some steam. This had been something else entirely. He never apologized or explained his actions, except to her. She was the exception in all the world.
“I was. There’s magic between us, more than the mystical kind. Call it chemistry.” She shrugged, seemingly nonchalant, but he caught the slight flaring of her nostrils and the tightening of her mouth.
He tugged. The unexpected motion made her tumble toward him. Catching her, he rolled until she was on her back with him over her.
“What are you doing?” she demanded. “Let me up.”
“No.” The spark of anger in her eyes, the sharpness of her tone, lightened his mood. Gone was the mask of indifference she used with the outside world. This was the feisty woman he was used to seeing. This was his Onyx.
“Dagen,” she began, but he shook his head, cutting off whatever she was about to say.
“No,” he repeated.
“Why not?”
“Our two hours isn’t up yet.”