A Hunger Like No Other (Immortals After Dark #2)(37)

“I see.” He gave her a solemn expression. “You must have a verra real fear that I can succeed.”

She shot him an impatient glare. “Hey, there are your hands—let me play right into them.”

After a moment, the corners of his lips quirked at her comment. “But it’s true. If you’re confident I will no’ succeed, then my ‘agenda’ is nothing more than an idle musing.”

“So the game becomes, who gets what they want first.”

“I suppose you could say that. Do you think you can reach your goal before I start enjoying you?”

She stifled a gasp and crossed her arms over her chest. For all he’d put her through, he owed her recompense. She’d earned every piece of jewelry she would separate him from! “You know what? I’m going to agree to continue. Mainly because I know you won’t let me out of my promise anyway. But I’m also going to clean out your stash. And don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He leaned forward, far too close for comfort, putting his face directly beside hers to say in a low voice, “And I’m going to have your legs wrapped around me and your cries in my ear before the week is out. Count yourself warned as well.”

She jerked away from him, her cheeks heating as she groped for a reply. “Then…then let’s see your prowess with driving!”

He drew away from her slowly, only taking his eyes from her face for a last look at her legs, then put the car in gear. As he pulled out onto the street, she prepared herself to be amused, strapping her seat belt in place, waiting for him to screw up.

But—of course—he drove perfectly.

He was always analyzing everything she did—why would she think he hadn’t been watching her drive? “When did you learn how?” Her question was sharp.

“Practiced in the parking lot when you showered. Doona worry, I could see the entrance at all times.”

“I’d told you I would not leave.”

“That’s no’ why I was watching. You look annoyed about this. If you want to drive…?”

“It usually takes people longer to learn.”

“It usually takes humans longer to learn.” He patted her knee, making the gesture patronizing. “Remember, I’m preternaturally strong and intelligent.”

He slid his hand higher and got it slapped away. “And preternaturally arrogant.”



When Lachlain had seen her tonight outside the hotel, looking curvy in a sinfully short skirt, with her hair shining and full, his heart had hammered in his chest for her. He’d seen her sexy little shoes and imagined the heels digging into his back when she wrapped her legs around him. Her eyes were bright, her skin glowing.

He was stunned to realize that even the moon had never held his gaze so completely.

And she was staying with him by choice, lured by jewelry. Which was already hers.

He’d spent his entire life acquiring the pieces in anticipation of giving them to her, never having imagined a mate quite like her.

As Lachlain drove down the roadway, he felt optimistic for the first time since his capture some fifteen decades ago. No matter what had happened, he’d escaped his enemies and could go about building his life again. With Emmaline—who wasn’t the killer he’d thought her. Who was unique among all the many vampires he’d encountered in his long life.

She was unique among all the females he’d ever seen.

He couldn’t decide if she was fey or a siren in appearance. Her wrists, finely wrought hands, and collarbone appeared fragile, the pale column of her neck so delicate. Her face was ethereal, exquisite. In other places, especially now that she’d fed, she was all woman with her generous, sensitive breasts and soft hips.

And she had an arse that made him hiss “mercy” under his breath.

He glanced down at his arm, smirking slowly at her wee fang marks, disbelieving his reaction to her bite. Knowing his beliefs and aware of how sick others would find it, he reasoned he must be depraved—because he’d reveled in it.

It was as if she’d opened up a new sexual venue that he had never imagined. As if all there’d ever been was straight f*cking, and then out of the blue, Emma had said, What if I lick and suck your shaft into my mouth. He shuddered, his erection pulsing.

Though it should be a mark of shame to be hidden, he found he liked to look at her bite because it reminded him of this foreign, secret pleasure—and that she’d never drunk from another. Only to him had she delivered that dark kiss.

He wondered who had taught her not to. Her family? Were they truly Forbearers, different from the rest of the vampires, forced to live in Louisiana because they were split from the Horde? He didn’t see answers forthcoming. She was the most tight-lipped female he’d ever encountered, and after his blunt questioning debacle in the restaurant, he planned to refrain for a while.

But he was her first and would be her only, and that made him proud. He fantasized about the next time she would drink. He’d get her to take from his neck, freeing both of his hands so he could pull aside her lacy undergarments and finger her wetness. Once she was ready for him, he’d work her down his length….

He stifled another shudder, then turned to ask her for the tenth time if she was thirsty yet, but he saw her curled up in the seat, looking soft and relaxed under his coat. He’d spread it over her, partly because he thought it would make her more comfortable and partly because it made him more comfortable not to see flashes of her thighs. She leaned her head against the window, staring out with that thing attached to her ears, and didn’t seem to realize that she sang softly. He didn’t want to interrupt her. Her voice was beautiful, lulling.