She offered one last smile, lifted her arm, then vanished.
Alison turned to Kerrick. “I’ve noticed ascenders often lift a hand or an arm before folding. What is that?”
Kerrick shrugged. “Just a warning, I guess, like hitting the turn signal in a car.”
Alison laughed. “That makes sense. I suppose it’s nice to have notice before someone disappears.”
Kerrick refilled his mug and tried to quiet the hammering of his heart. This was getting worse and worse. During the time Havily had conversed with Alison and performed her job, his gaze had been all for Alison. He’d been struck by her kindness toward Havily.
This was Alison’s true gift, and it had nothing to do with preternatural power. She listened and she cared. Goddamn that got to him, worked in his heart like a miner after a vein of gold. And for whatever biological reason, the same sensation drove straight into his groin demanding possession.
Why the fuck couldn’t she have been selfish and small-minded? Instead, while she was in the middle of an experience that essentially meant she was battling for her life, she had culled from Havily a single stunning fact—Havily was passionate about making significant changes in hopes of altering the course of the war.
We need Alison, he thought. Hell, I need her.
Then there was the whole business about White Lake. He had lived too long on Second not to comprehend that the dream was significant, which meant her role on Second Earth would become increasingly important, another reason she shouldn’t be anywhere near a Warrior of the Blood. Christ, this whole thing kept getting more and more complicated. Fucking breh-hedden.
“You’re very quiet and you’ve been stirring a mug of coffee I happen to know has no sugar or milk in it.”
Even her voice worked over his body as though every part of her was designed to torment him. “Yeah,” he responded. “Just cooling it off.” A lie. He just didn’t know how to turn back to her without picking her up in his arms and carting her off to his bed. Like now.
“I’m smelling spice, lots of spice, sweet exotic Moroccan spice.”
He still didn’t turn around. He nodded and kept stirring.
“Did I do something wrong? I mean, I know I have a lot to learn. Do you think I offended Havily? Do you think talking about White Lake upset her?”
He let go of the spoon and the mug and turned to face her. “No, not at all. Havily looks delicate but she’s tough as nails, and no, you didn’t offend her.” He returned to the stool he’d inhabited earlier.
“So I didn’t do anything wrong?”
He refused to meet her gaze as he said, “Actually, you’ve done everything wrong. You’ve been kind and generous, tender, concerned. Shit, this has become a fucking nightmare. I don’t want to do this, you know. From the first moment I saw you, I knew I was in trouble, and the longer I’m with you the worse it gets. I took vows, Alison. I won’t go back on them.”
Alison saw the set of his jaw and the way his green eyes darkened and shifted over the granite, his gaze hunting for a place to land. His fangs would emerge next because the room was so rich with his scent, she was sure if she took a deep enough breath she could taste it on her tongue.
She saw his struggle, and she appreciated he’d taken some kind of vow, which was now directed against her, yet in this moment everything shifted for her.
The past caught up: how he’d protected her from the death vamp at the medical complex, the kiss in her Nova, how she’d awakened to his fangs on her neck and let him drink, how he’d used his hand to give her such wonderful release, how she had only to look at him and desire tightened her internal muscles and sent shivers over her skin.
She touched her fingers to her neck. From his peripheral vision he must have seen the movement because he turned and his gaze followed. He growled softly and his eyelids fell to half-mast. She couldn’t feel the puncture marks, but she remembered the sublime sensation.
She didn’t fully understand what was happening between them. Part of it made no sense. He had lived for centuries, he had fought as a warrior for over a millennia. He had transformed into a vampire when he ascended. She, on the other hand, had grown up in her cloistered world, protecting everyone else from her powers. Though she’d gotten a master’s degree and had set up a practice, she had lived a bare thirty-plus years of an isolated life, of tight self-command and no relationships to speak of except with her family. How did being with an ancient winged vampire warrior therefore make any kind of sense?
She moved to stand next to him. The height of the stool allowed her to meet his gaze straight-on. His lips parted and his nostrils flared. His scent tormented her. She could barely draw breath.
She put her hand on his bicep, savoring the feel, as she had before, of the sculpted muscle. When she shifted to look at him, her gaze fell to his mouth. He had the most sensual lips she had ever seen, and she already knew exactly what they felt like. The tips of his fangs showed again. This time, instead of being afraid or overwhelmed as she had been in the car, and because he’d already taken her blood, desire flowed. The same growl, throaty and possessive, rumbled in his throat.
You’re throwing lavender, he sent.
That sound you’re making is getting to me.
Good.
He growled a little more, only louder this time. The vibration hit her chest and shivers slid down her abdomen.
I want in, she sent.
Funny how she knew he meant her mind. While he remained seated, she drew a little closer to him. He moved his right leg wider. He slid his arm around the small of her back and pulled her deeper between his legs. She put her hands on his shoulders then opened wide, letting down all her mental shields.
He held her gaze and dipped heavily into her mind, an experience well beyond simple telepathy. He was inside her head, deep inside her head. She gasped. It was like being surrounded, comforted, and taken all at once by an enormous wave of warm tropical waters. Pleasure cascaded through her body all over again. He growled as he swam through her thoughts and memories.
To be possessed in this way, his mind penetrating hers, moving over her, was a sensation she had never imagined before, yet it made sense. If telepathic communication was possible, why not this kind of deep penetration, even possession, of the mind?
She opened her mouth to breathe better and he took the opportunity to pull her against him fully and kiss her, his sensual lips warm and soft against her mouth. He drove his tongue deep, all the while remaining inside her mind. She moaned as his tongue pleasured and teased the sensitive recesses of her mouth.
Yes, she could really be with this man. It scared her yet it explained so much, the how and why of everything. Now she understood. What she needed was a powerful warrior, even a vampire, who could command her mouth while he moved an ocean around in her mind, who apparently didn’t get blasted against a wall when she orgasmed.
A little more of her tightly held self gave way.
Kerrick, I want you inside me. We have some time, don’t we?
He shifted, slid off the stool, and gathered her into his arms, his lips still molded to her mouth, his tongue thrusting hard.
His presence in her mind worked her body into a sudden outrageous frenzy. Her muscles ached everywhere. She drove her hands into his hair, her fingers tingling from the sensation.
Your thoughts are so beautiful, Alison. I love being in here. I want to stay forever but I can’t. Tell me you understand.
I do. You’ve lost too much, haven’t you?
Yes.
Kerrick, please take me.
Are you sure? Even if this is temporary?
Yes.
He caught her buttocks with one hand and pressed her against him. She writhed against the hard ridge of his sex. A long string of moans left her throat, the sound trumped by a powerful growl that passed from his chest to hers and reverberated like a steadily blowing breeze.
This wouldn’t take long. This would be quick, hard, and fast. She wanted nothing more. She began tugging his shirt out of his jeans. His hands slid under her top and all her movement stilled as he found her breasts, then with one large hand fondled them both at the same time.
Kerrick … so good.
Yes.
His kiss deepened and the pressure on her nipples reached a place of pleasurable pain, which buckled her knees. He caught her waist with his free arm and held her close.
He lifted her up and planted her on the granite. He spread her legs and moved between them, reestablishing the connection. “Pants off,” she whispered as she dragged a breath into her lungs.
“So impatient,” he murmured. He pushed her onto the granite until she lay flat against the cool stone, one hand still kneading her breasts. She closed her eyes and let go of the burning need to having him inside her. Clearly he had other plans and as he stripped her pants off her, then her thong, she let go of a long lusty cry.
I’m here, he whispered deep in her mind, a sensation that sent ripples of desire … everywhere.
I love you in my head.
He growled then kissed her breasts, the fabric shoved up high, the bra as well. He suckled. Oh, how he suckled. She writhed against the granite, her body on fire, the cool stone below, his callused warrior hands working over her thighs, her abdomen, her ribs, her shoulders. One finger found her mouth and she took him inside and sucked hard.
He nipped at her breast then pulled hard.
She arched off the granite and because he was present in her mind she almost came. Kerrick … No words followed, just a series of whimpers as he released her breast and started a burning trail of kisses down her body. Her skin and muscles jumped, her hips rocked. He kept moving down and down. He drew his finger from her mouth and grabbed her waist with both hands. He pushed her farther up the granite until her feet found purchase and almost at the same moment, his lips met the soft curls then the flesh of her labia. He nuzzled and kissed, nipped and sucked, all in tender little flurries. Yet he avoided reaching the sweet spot.
She moaned and her fingers found his hair, digging deep and guiding.
So impatient, he sent.
Kerrick. Such torture. Oh, your mind inside me … your lips … oh, God, your tongue. He pressed her apart and blew a stream of air over her until tears tracked down her cheeks.
