Because this is where she belongs.
Where she will always belong.
The disturbing words floated through his mind before he could halt them.
“Raw energy,” she retorted, moaning as his tongue traced the edge of her lower lip. “Dangerous…unpredictable…”
“Oh, I can be very predictable, little one,” he corrected, grasping her hand to gently place it against his pulsing arousal.
Her breath caught as her fingers traced his hard cock straining against his zipper, her eyes darkening with awareness of her feminine power.
Desire clawed deep within him. He wanted to make this a slow, delicate seduction, but the thought of being buried deep within her was swiftly undermining his control. At heart, he was still a barbarian. A wild, pagan coupling was becoming a more viable option by the second.
Regan couldn’t have missed the sudden heat that filled the cavern, or the tension that clenched his muscles, but as if deliberately seeking to push Jagr over the edge, her searching fingers slowly tugged down the zipper of his jeans, releasing the heavy thrust of his erection.
“Gods,” Jagr managed to croak, shuddering at the hot surge of desire.
“Do you like this?” she demanded, lightly skimming her fingers down his thick length.
“Yes,” he growled, his hands clutching her hips as he sought to remain in control of his building need.
“And this?” she whispered, her hand moving steadily lower.
“Regan…” He muttered a curse, his eyes clenching shut as he battled to hold off the surging climax. “Yes.”
She discovered his tender sack and lightly squeezed. “And this?”
“Enough,” he choked, grasping her wrist to halt the exquisite torment.
“Why?”
Forcing his eyes open, he met the glittering emerald gaze. “Because just your touch is enough to make me explode.”
The sweet scent of her arousal deepened at his blunt words. “And that’s a bad thing?”
“Bad?” His sharp laugh echoed through the darkness. “By the saints, I would walk through the fires of hell for the feel of your hands on my body.”
Her lips curved in a smile of pure temptation.
A natural born Eve.
“Then why are you stopping me?”
Good question.
Oh, it wasn’t uncommon for him to deny himself pleasure.
His lair was a cold, barren series of cement tunnels beneath an abandoned warehouse. It had none of the luxuries that most vampires craved. His only concession to comfort was his vast collection of books, his high-tech computer, and his plasma TVs.
And certainly he never allowed himself to wallow in the self-indulgent pursuit of physical pleasure that many demons craved.
He never questioned his monkish existence. What did it matter if it was an obsessive need to feel in control after years of being in the power of others? Or some obscure hatred for being turned into the same monster as those who’d tortured him? Or even a boorish distaste for the company of others.
In this moment, he wanted to plunge into the swirling sensations that heated his blood to a fever pitch. He wanted to…feel. To melt the ice that had held him captive since he’d left those blood-soaked caves.
He wanted Regan in any way she would have him.
It was obvious that despite her innocence, this Were possessed a playful curiosity. Why not allow her to explore her potent effect on his body?
They had an eternity to satisfy any number of fantasies.
Endless, decadent, wicked fantasies.
With a slow, deliberate motion, Jagr released her wrist at the same moment he branded her lips with a searing kiss. She readily opened her mouth to allow the invasion of his thrusting tongue, her hand moving on him with awkward but shockingly blissful strokes.
He didn’t know why she’d suddenly lowered her stiff barriers. Why she’d accepted the passion that had pulsed between them since their first meeting. And to be honest, he didn’t give a shit.
Fate was rarely kind to him. He intended to take advantage while it was willing to smile on him.
Dragging his lips over the heated skin of her cheeks, he nuzzled the hollow just below her ear, his fingers trailing a determined path down the sleek line of her waist. She shivered in response, her heart pounding so loudly that Jagr didn’t need to be a vampire to hear it.
He used her telltale responses to guide his touch, intent on her pleasure even as his hips began to pump forward as her strokes became more assured, forceful.
Oh…hell.
In over a thousand years, nothing had ever felt so good.
Reaching the edge of her panties, Jagr ripped the fragile silk away, well beyond subtle.
He wanted to explore the damp heat he could already sense. He wanted to feel her tremble in need. He wanted to hear those tiny cries of pleasure as he made her come.
Allowing his hand to slide over the curve of her thigh, Jagr gently parted her legs to allow his fingers access to her most tender flesh.
Growling low in his throat, he parted her folds and discovered her moist and eager for his touch.
“Holy crap,” she muttered, her fingers unwittingly tightening on his erection.
Not that he intended to protest. Instead, he muttered soft words of encouragement as he caressed her with a growing urgency.
His fangs ached, his hunger roaring through him, but Jagr ignored the burning need to take her blood. The blissful pressure clenching his lower body was swiftly reaching the point of no return. He was fiercely determined to ensure her pleasure before claiming his own.
Dipping his head lower, Jagr sucked the tip of her nipple in his mouth, using his tongue to tease and torment her as his finger dipped into her slick channel. She whimpered softly, her hand stroking him with greater speed in response to his persistent caress.
She was close.
So close.
Her breath halted, her back arching, and with a soft cry she shuddered in completion, her last lingering tug of his erection causing him to shout as the sensations gathered and the world exploded in pleasure.
Folding her close, Jagr had to smile.
Maybe Regan hadn’t been wrong when she claimed she smelled lightning.
The gods knew he’d just been struck.
Floating on a little cloud of paradise, Regan made no effort to struggle as Jagr swept her off her feet and waded into the chilled water that ran through the back of the cavern. Not even when he gently but thoroughly scrubbed her with the expensive soap and shampoo he’d obviously brought from Chicago.
For the first time in her existence, she felt…deliciously pampered.
Just like a normal woman who was being spoiled by her current lover.
Lover.
Regan shivered. Yes…lovers.
Oh, she wasn’t stupid (okay, that might be debatable), but she understood the basic principles of intercourse, and the fact she was still technically a virgin. Who could watch Pay Per View and not have waaaay too much info?
Still, it had been…
Wow.
Yeah, that about summed it up.
And while a part of her wanted to blame her bout of insanity on mere pity for a creature who had suffered such agony, she couldn’t make it stick. Not when she’d wanted to have her way with the gorgeous vamp since his orgasmic bite in that hotel room.
There, she’d admitted it, if only to herself.
She might not understand why a vampire who was arrogant, aggravating, and only with her because he’d been commanded by his mighty Anasso to protect her, could make her entire body quiver whenever he was near, but there it was.
And obviously the quiver factor didn’t disappear even after a mind-blowing climax.
With every sweep of his hands, tiny jolts of awareness tingled through her, stirring the wondrous lethargy that held her captive.
“You’re very quiet,” he murmured.
“And no one’s allowed to be the strong silent type except you?” she demanded, keeping her eyes closed. One glance at the impossibly beautiful face and she would be flat on her back, begging for mercy.
A woman had to have some pride, didn’t she?
He chuckled softly. “You’re certainly strong enough, but you haven’t struck me as being particularly silent.”
Her breath caught as his hand outlined the curve of her hip. “I spent thirty years forced to keep my mouth shut while Culligan blathered for hours on end. From now on, I intend to say what I want to say, when I want to say it, and as often as I want to say it.”
“So I’ve noticed.”
Unable to resist, she opened her eyes to meet his coolly amused gaze.
“If you don’t like it, you can always…”
Regan didn’t even try to avoid the starkly possessive kiss that stole her words.
“I didn’t say I didn’t like it,” he muttered against her lips. “Besides, I know how to silence you when I want.”
“Arrogant jackass.”
“Always.”
With one last burning kiss, he rinsed off the lingering soap, and hauled her out of the water. Then leaving her to dry off with his discarded shirt, he pulled on the faded jeans, a clean black T-shirt (that stretched with oh-my-God results over his wide chest), and a pair of heavy biker boots before disappearing into the outer cave.
