Carpathians: Dark Crime Part 3

Her mouth watered. Her hand slid down his chest to his belly and then wrapped around that thick bulge just to feel the heat of him. That only made the destructive sensations whipping through her worse. She needed. She couldn't stop herself. She leaned into him, her tongue tasting his skin right over the thin mark on his muscle. She licked and then sucked. Then she bit down.

She actually felt the lightning whipping through him. Through her. He was violently aroused. His c.o.c.k jerked hard. Pulsed in her hand. She used her thumb to slide through the pearl drops, coated the sensitive crown, eliciting a satisfying groan from him.

Maksim growled, his hand coming up to cup the back of her head, the other hand on her shoulder, pressing. A subtle command. She sent him a dark look. He was hers. His body. Hers. She could barely breathe, the need and hunger in her so sharp and terrible.

"More, Blaze. Give me everything."

His voice was rough with command. With a hunger that matched or exceeded her own. She wanted that. Wanted him out of control, burning like she was burning. She bit him again and used her tongue to soothe the ache, leaving a trail of kisses down his chest and belly, her free hand stroking caresses while her fist slid up and down in a lazy pump. She was playing with fire. She could sense his predatory nature, the dark hunger that rose sharp and terrible in him.

His needs were not going to be met easily, but she wasn't afraid. He would take what he wanted from her, but she knew the rewards would be great. She had the same well of darker pa.s.sion in her, and she needed him to give her what she needed. She loved his taste. Loved the hard muscles rippling beneath his skin as she kissed and touched, memorizing his body, imprinting it in her mind.

She looked up at him, loving the look on his face. The dark stamp of sensuality carved so deep into the lines of his face. The hooded eyes, burning into her. The possession deep in his black eyes. True black. Unusual they were so black, but intense and very s.e.xual. Her heart beat harder and she wrapped both hands around his c.o.c.k and slowly began to lower her head.

His control was definitely fraying. She loved that most of all. That she put that look on his face. That she could shred his iron control. She felt him in her mind. Knew he had never really looked at another woman. Only her. That was power. This was heady power. Giving him this. She licked at the pearly crest, and his entire body shuddered under that light touch.

His hands gripped her hair tightly, stopping her, holding her absolutely still. She might think she was the one in control, but at the sharp bite of pain in her scalp, a thrill raced down her spine. Her gaze jumped to his. Her breath caught in her lungs at the absolute carnal l.u.s.t she saw there.

"Maksim," she whispered, knowing she sounded exactly as she felt. Hot. Needy. His voice was so rich, so commanding and dark with hunger. He touched her with his voice alone, stroking over her skin like a velvet rasp. Her feminine channel spasmed, and she thought she might have another o.r.g.a.s.m just from the way he held her, looked at her and spoke with that absolute command.

"Draga mea," he said. "Sweetheart. Kneel down right there."

He didn't loosen the grip on her hair and he didn't move, giving her little room. She had to slide down his body to comply, and his hands moved a scant few inches to allow her to kneel in front of him. Her mouth watered. He was a temptation, and she'd already had a taste of him. Exotic. Dark forests. Masculine. Perfect. She wanted more.

"Put your hands on my thighs," he said softly, his gaze burning into hers.

She took a breath. Shook her head. "I've never done this before."

"I know."

Those two words slipped inside her. Made her shiver. Made more hot liquid spill between her legs, to glisten in her fiery curls. He was so s.e.xy. Everything about him.

"Give me this."

She slid her hands up his thighs because right then, she would have given him the world. He wrapped his fingers around the base of his c.o.c.k, guiding it toward her mouth, and it was the s.e.xiest thing she'd ever seen. She knew her own hunger was growing out of control, but it didn't matter. She was lost in his dark spell, wrapped up in his hunger, tangled in her own.

He pressed the velvety crown against her lips. The sensation sent another spasm through her channel and she opened her mouth, licked at the drops there, taking the offering and savoring his flavor. His taste was addicting. So s.e.xy.

"Keep looking at me, Blaze. I need to see you, to make certain you want this."

In answer she licked at the drops spilling from his c.o.c.k in antic.i.p.ation. She wanted this. She wanted him. There was nothing else in the world but this man and his body and the pure sensual pleasure he had wrapped her in. She loved the husky groan that rumbled in his throat when he pressed the head of his c.o.c.k into her heated mouth.

"Feel what I am feeling." He whispered the temptation. "Come into my mind, Blaze. Feel all of me."

She knew what he meant. A gift she had. She had always had. She took a breath and let go of all her sanity, reaching for him. Giving him that. Afraid of what she might find. But when she touched his mind, there was only pleasure there. Pleasure she was giving him.

The electrical current ran from her mouth, through his c.o.c.k, lashing his spine and whipping through his head.

"Feel that, draga mea? Feel what you do to me? It's so good. So very hot."

She tried to draw him deep into her mouth, suckling strongly, her tongue working him, all around the flared head and underneath. Licking. Stroking. Hungry for more. Hungry to keep the devastating sensations whipping through his body. Whipping through hers, because, mind to mind like this, she felt everything he was feeling. It was thrilling. Decadent. s.e.xy.

He pulled back and she gave a cry of protest, but then he was sinking into her mouth, giving her what she wanted, and she gave him back. He moved slow and easy, each stroke taking him deeper until he was nearly at her throat, careful of her, but she felt the way his body reacted as she sucked hard. It was beautiful, the violent way his muscles contracted from the searing pleasure. Giving that to him made her feel more empowered than ever. Greedy for more. And her own body was going up in flames. Needing him. So hungry for him.

She felt wild inside. Needing so much more. She worked him, wanting to drive him over the edge, feeling her own body giving up control. Tension building. Coiling tighter and tighter.

He watched with those hooded, black eyes, watched as his c.o.c.k moved in and out between her lips, the crown and shaft wet now from her mouth, glistening with the moisture. She loved that he watched. That his c.o.c.k was so swollen and engorged. She could feel the heat of him, scorching her tongue, tasting s.e.xy and exotic. Her hunger grew until she couldn't think straight. Until her brain short-circuited. Until she was a flame burning out of control.

She couldn't keep her hands still, couldn't keep from the wild need as she tightened her mouth around him and used her tongue to lash and caress as he slid in and out of her mouth, shallow and deep, controlling the moves until she thought she would go insane from the desperate hunger threatening to destroy her.

She needed more and, determined to take back control, she slid her palms up his thighs, feeling the heated muscles contract and pulse as she moved her hands inside his thighs, between his legs, cupping his heavy sac, feeling the velvet there, the tightness coiling.

Maksim pulled back, sliding from between her lips, watching her mouth follow, his eyes smoldering as his hands tightened in her hair, and the bite at her scalp sent an electrical current whipping from her b.r.e.a.s.t.s to her core. He reached down to capture her wrists and pin them together with one hand, holding them above her head as he guided his c.o.c.k to her mouth. She parted her lips and took him again.

He thrust deeper, feeling the tight suction, the vibrations surrounding his c.o.c.k and sending spikes of pleasure torturing him as she made small, desperate sounds around him. Sweat beaded and ran down his back as he tried to stay in control. She was beautiful with her silken lips wrapped around him and her green eyes dazed with pleasure. Wild for him. Frantic for him. So ready. So in need. It was the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen, and the pleasure was almost too much. He knew he wasn't going to last more than another stroke or two. Still, he couldn't stop, pushing his control as his c.o.c.k sought another perfect moment in the moist heat and tight suction of her mouth.

"Enough, sufletul meu," he murmured. The soft velvet of his voice had turned more of a rasping growl. She was destroying him with her wild, uninhibited gift to him. He would never get enough of her wild. Never.

Down through the long centuries he knew he would be so addicted to her taste, to her body, that he would never want to be anywhere else than right where he was. "Come to me, Blaze." A demand. Rough. Harsh. He couldn't help himself. He had to have her. The plea in her eyes, the pure fire burning in her, was too much to resist.

He used her wrists to pull her to her feet, catching her at her hips and lifting her to him with one arm. He used the other to wrap her leg around him. She wrapped the other instantly. He walked them to the bed as she circled his neck with her arms. Putting one knee on the bed, Maksim took them both down, keeping her under him. Her thighs were parted for him and he took advantage, lodging the wide head of his c.o.c.k into that scorching-hot haven.

He growled at the feeling as her body took just that much of him, squeezing down, molten lava surrounding him, so tight he thought he'd explode right then. He began to exert pressure, little short surges that forced his way through those tight muscles. So hot. So perfect. Too tight. Strangling him in paradise. The sensation was pure ecstasy as around him, her body stretched and burned, slowly, reluctantly accepting his invasion.

He reached that thin barrier and held himself still with an effort, the sweat beading on his forehead as he fought to stay in control. To give her body the time it needed to adjust to his invasion. He wasn't nearly in deep enough. It was a strain to stay motionless.

"Are you all right, sufletul meu, look at me." He had to see her eyes. She had them closed and he needed to know he wasn't hurting her.

Her lashes fluttered and then lifted. His stomach muscles contracted violently. His body shuddered and his c.o.c.k impossibly thickened, throbbed, desperate for more. She looked so s.e.xy.

"I need more," she whispered. "Please, hurry. Please. I'm burning up. I need . . ."

"I know what you need." His arm tightened around her hips, lifting her. Instantly her legs wrapped tighter around him, her ankles hooking at his waist, her fingers locking at the nape of his neck, eyes pleading. He took a breath because the sight of her was killing him, destroying all control. He surged forward. Hard. Taking her body. Claiming her as his. Driving past her innocence and powering through her tight folds, the scorching fire taking his sanity as her tight channel had no choice but to accept all of him.

She cried out at the lash of pain, but he felt liquid flames wrapping his c.o.c.k tightly, dragging him deeper until he was lodged all the way. Her tight channel rippled around him, squeezing and milking like the tightest fist, or a hundred fingers, gripped and moved around him. He clenched his teeth, fighting for control again, trying to give her body time to adjust.

Her hips bucked. Her head thrashed. A small whimper of need slipped from her throat and stroked a flame over his c.o.c.k. The need to thrust hard and deep over and over nearly drove him insane, but he breathed through it, holding on for her.

"Are you ready, Blaze? Breathe for me, sweetheart."

Her green eyes met his. Wild. So wild his breath caught in his throat. He held her still while she kept trying to buck against him, desperate to move.

"Please," she whispered again.

Her voice sent him over the edge. Raw. Arousal making the sweet fire hotter than ever. He moved then, drawing back and then plunging deep into her fiery channel. Her inner muscles, so much scorching silk, gripped his c.o.c.k like the tightest fist imaginable. He felt the last of his control shred and he began to power into her. He was rough. Too rough for her innocence, but there was no regaining control once it was lost. The pleasure enveloped him, was so intense it actually bordered on pain.

His mind was in hers and he could feel her rising toward her o.r.g.a.s.m. Rushing toward it. The sensation of a tidal wave threatening to engulf her. He gripped her hips hard, flexing his fingers and then digging in deep, holding her, for a moment, savoring the tight, silken, wet channel, and then he surged into her over and over with hard, deep strokes, letting the fire streak through his body. Feeling his b.a.l.l.s tighten. Feeling the sudden, overwhelming convulsion in her sheath. The ripples surrounding him. Her cries filling his ears-his mind. Pleasure swamped him, took him. Took her. Each hard jerk of his c.o.c.k spilling into her was a punch of pure pleasure.

Maksim buried his face in her neck, that soft, sweet neck, listening to the pounding of her pulse, the ebb and flow of her blood. Her body was soft under his, his c.o.c.k still gliding and hard, but that dark l.u.s.t that drove him so hard, so brutally since the moment he'd heard her voice, knew she was going to defy him and fight her battles alone, eased enough to allow him to be sated.

She was unlike most humans in that she had been able to resist compulsion, but they'd exchanged blood. She'd allowed him into her mind. She wouldn't defy him so easily a second time.

He lifted his head and looked down at her, at the helpless, dazed pleasure on her face. Her lashes fluttered and before she could open her eyes all the way, he took her mouth. Gently. Tenderly. Completely at odds with his roughness earlier.

Sufletul meu, sweetheart, you need to let yourself grieve. She stiffened and her hands went to his shoulders to push him away. You are safe here with me. He slid the words softly into her mind.

All along he'd felt her grief. She had refused to face the reality of her father's death. Her only living blood relative other than a mother who had left years earlier and never returned or bothered to find out if her daughter was even alive. Sean McGuire had meant everything to his daughter. He had been brutally murdered.

You need to allow yourself to fall apart. Just this once, when I am holding you close. Tomorrow night you can be strong again, but right now, holding me, me inside you, give that to me, too.

He tried not to use a compulsion, but he knew she needed to grieve. To finally let go. The hard knot inside her was never going to go away until she allowed herself to acknowledge he was gone. She would never accept her father's death until she faced it and forced herself to realize he wasn't coming back. She needed to begin that process. She would never look at the future, and the last thing Maksim wanted was for Blaze to be thinking about giving up her life for revenge. She was far too accepting of dying.

Their lovemaking had been wild. Rough. Intense. It was an intense situation, and he stayed there in her mind, waiting for her to give him that last gift. Her sorrow. Her tears. Her absolute grief. He was her lifemate and, although she didn't yet know what that meant, she still felt their deep connection.

FIVE.

THE HEADACHE POUNDING through her head made it difficult to emerge from a heavy sleep. Normally, Blaze woke quickly no matter the time. She didn't linger in bed, or have to have three cups of coffee to clear her head, but the headache made it difficult to think. She felt disoriented and a little nauseated. Her body ached everywhere. Everywhere.

Heart pounding, her eyes flew open and she turned her head to see if someone else was in her bed. Clearly alone, she drew in a long, shuddering breath, the events of the night becoming much clearer in her head. She preferred the fog to reality. Groaning, because even the light hurt her eyes, she flung one hand over her face to protect herself from the bright light of day.

She had cried for hours last night. For hours. In his arms. Maksim. Virtually a total stranger. She groaned again, her face flaming. She'd done more than cry in his arms; she'd let him have her body. Not once. But again and again. In between her crying jags. She'd lost her mind last night. Totally lost it.

She couldn't pretend Maksim Volkov away or the things she'd done with him. There was no denying awesome s.e.x, and the s.e.x was both intense and incredibly awesome. She wanted to regret it. The man was a total stranger and she'd all but torn his clothes off of him, but then the entire night had been intense. That was the only excuse, the only explanation she had. She had expected to die. She'd been prepared for it and truthfully, a part of her had been wishing for it, which would have made her father very, very angry with her.

She groaned a third time and rolled over onto her stomach, burying her face in the pillow. She was fairly certain everything had happened just as she'd remembered it, with the exception of the blood part. That couldn't have happened, because blood didn't taste like that. Addicting and hot and totally masculine. Her mouth watered at the remembrance. If blood actually was so good that she couldn't even get the taste out of her mind and she craved more, people would be selling it on the black market and making a fortune.

As for vampires-she winced a little at the word-she didn't want to go there. She knew about vampires. She'd known since she was ten years old and Emeline had come into her life. Of course, in the beginning, neither girl had believed. Whenever they were together, they had the nightmare. The same nightmare. It was powerful and ugly and scary. They were together a lot. The more they had the nightmare, the more it unfolded and became longer and more detailed.

She groaned again, trying to shut down her brain, not wanting to think about vampires or monsters she couldn't control. Since she wasn't going to see Maksim ever again, for as long as she lived, she could pretend, like she'd been doing for years, that she didn't believe in any of it. In the meantime, she didn't have the luxury of lying around her apartment feeling sorry for herself. She had work to do.

Her cell buzzed along the end table, vibrating across the wood surface. She snagged it quickly, trying not to remember how she'd put her foot up on it and what had happened after. Still, her body remembered, even if her brain tried to shut the memory down. She felt an answering twinge deep inside. At once a smoldering burn started.

"You got Blaze," she answered.

"Where have you been? I've called you thirty times," Emeline Sanchez, her best friend, burst out without even saying h.e.l.lo. "You turned me into crazy stalker woman. I've been worried sick. Thank G.o.d you waited for me. I totally have your back on this, honey. I got a job at the strip club. You know, The In Place. Seriously. They hired me right away."

Blaze sat up straighter, shoving at the fall of hair cascading everywhere. "Em, are you insane? This isn't a game. These men killed my father. You cannot go undercover at the strip joint." She lowered her voice almost to a whisper. "You know why."

"I may not be a bada.s.s like you, Blaze, but I can get information. I'm good at it. You know I am. I have always had that knack and I'm not letting you do this alone. I'm not. You and your father . . ." Her voice wavered and she trailed off. She cleared her throat. "If it wasn't for the two of you, I wouldn't be here. You know that. I'm not letting you do this alone."

Blaze closed her eyes briefly. Emeline wasn't a fighter in the sense that Blaze was. Sean had tried to teach her, and she was capable, but it wasn't in her nature, in the way it was in Blaze's. Emeline was quieter. She was gorgeous. Truly drop-dead gorgeous. Of course the strip club would hire her. She also appeared mysterious, elusive and, just walking down the street, she was s.e.xy as all get-out. She rarely argued, although she had strong opinions, she just quietly went her own way. When she made up her mind to do something, no one could stop her. No one. Blaze had learned that early.

"Emmy, listen to me. It isn't safe for you to be in this city. It isn't safe for you to be in the country. It certainly isn't safe for you to be in that strip club. Especially that strip club. What did you do? Go straight from the airport to the bar and apply for a job?"

"Well . . . yeah."

As if that was perfectly reasonable. Blaze wanted to tear out her hair. Her life was out of control. Completely out of control. She should have known the moment she sent word to Emeline that Sean was dead and she was going after the killers, that Emmy would get on a plane, regardless of the danger to herself, and come back to help.

"Do you know who owns that club?" Blaze inquired softly. She glanced down at her body. She was naked. Completely naked. She never slept naked. There were smudge marks on her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Like fingerprints. And a mark above her left one that looked suspiciously like a bite. She closed her eyes, remembering the way it felt when he sank his teeth into her. Her s.e.x spasmed. Clenched. She felt the rush of liquid heat at the memory.

"No. And I don't care."

"Have you ever been in it before?"

"Of course not. I've never stripped before if that's what you're asking, but I took pole dancing to stay in shape and I've danced all my life. I have no doubt I can pull this off."

Blaze sucked in her breath. "Wait. Wait. They hired you as a stripper? I thought you meant they hired you as a waitress."

"Honey, how can I get close to the girls to get information if I'm not one of them?" Emeline sounded as if she was losing a little of her patience.

Blaze wanted to scream.

"Blaze." Emeline's voice softened. "I'm not walking into this with my eyes closed. I didn't come back on impulse. I know the risk and, just like you, I accept it. You and Sean are the closest thing I have to a family. I don't have anyone else, and living on the run doesn't exactly give me the incentive-or time-to make friends. They murdered him. They took him from us. I'm not going to let them get away with it any more than you are. I can't go into combat with you, but I can feed you intel."

Blaze rubbed her hand down her face. She didn't have an argument for that one. It was all true and she knew exactly how Emeline felt about Sean. Emeline had no real family to speak of. Her mother had died when she was three. Her father disappeared and Emeline had been shifted from home to home with apathetic relatives. Blaze met her by chance in an alley behind the bar, and they became fast friends. Emeline had been working in stores since she was thirteen for her various relatives, and she easily got a job and an apartment with Sean as her reference when she turned sixteen. Mostly, before that, she lived on the streets during the day and slept in Blaze's room at night.

Sean had paid for her dance cla.s.ses and anything extra she'd wanted to take as she was growing up. She went to school as if she had an adult watching over her. When Emeline came to them eight months back and told them she'd witnessed a murder and she was scared, afraid she was being followed, Sean had helped her leave the country.

"Em, you described the murder to the police . . ."

Emeline groaned. "I wish I'd never used the term 'vampire.' I said vampire-like and they didn't believe me. I know there aren't vampires. I even tried to backtrack and say that maybe he had that disease where he believes he's a vampire and murders people and drinks their blood. He had receding gum lines, was pale, his hair was in strings, and all that is explained by the disease. Once I said 'vampire' no one believed a thing I said."

"We both know it was a vampire," Blaze said quietly. "We didn't want to believe it, but that nightmare . . ." She sighed and pressed her fingertips to her pounding temple. "Emmy, hon, that nightmare is getting closer. You cannot go to work at that club. Some of the things in the nightmare are too real. We both know what happens if it all becomes true. You're safer out of the country. I need you safe, Emmy. Please, go back to France." Her throat closed. She knew Emeline wouldn't go. Not if their nightmare was going to become reality.

There was a small silence. "Honey, you know I love you. You're my only family. Sean was my father, too. I have to do this. I couldn't live with myself if I wasn't here helping you. I can't give you that. And you know why. If only I hadn't used the word vampire to describe him, the cops wouldn't have dismissed me like I was a lunatic."

"Emmy, listen to me. The cops believed you. They were dirty. Sean knew it and he got you out of here. Some of them work for this guy and his mob. His name is Reginald c.o.o.nan and he owns that club. Sean believed you and so did I. There are others who think . . ." She trailed off, reluctant to reveal anything about Maksim. It felt like betrayal, even with Emeline.

"Think what?" Emeline insisted.

"Think he kills like a vampire does. Whatever he is, we know the man calling himself Reginald c.o.o.nan murders and drinks the blood of his victims. You saw him."

"Two of them," Emeline reminded in a whisper. "I still have the nightmares every night. I'm afraid to go to sleep."

"I know, honey," Blaze said. "That's why you shouldn't go back to that club. If he sees you there . . ."

"I was hired under the name Sean gave me when he sent me to Europe. I'm doing this, Blaze. For Sean. For you. But most of all for myself. I'm tired of running and I want to come home. You're all I've got."

Blaze closed her eyes and threw herself backward across the bed. There was no stopping Emeline once she made up her mind to something any more than there was Blaze. "Okay, but we have to be smart," she capitulated. "It's really dangerous."

"I practically lived on the streets, Blaze, I'm good at this. I've got mad skills in manipulating people into talking to me about things they'd rather not."