A Hunger Like No Other (Immortals After Dark #2)(8)

Need to be inside her. Haze. She would make him wait longer for the mindlessness he craved? Torturing me just as her kindred did. He bellowed with rage, his hands shooting out on each side of her head to crush the marble behind her.

Her eyes went stark once more. Why couldn’t she have been of his kind? If she had, she would have been clawing him to fill her, begging. She would have fed him into her body and sighed with relief when he rocked into her. The mental image of this creature doing that made him groan in misery at his loss. He wanted her willing. But he’d take what fate had given.

“I’m going tae be inside you tonight. Best relax.”

She gazed up at him with her brows drawn as though with despair. “You said you wouldn’t hurt me. You p-promised.”

Did the witch think that promise would be enough to save her? He gripped his cock, dragged her leg up to his hip….



“But you said,” she whispered, devastated that she’d believed him. She hated being lied to, especially since she could never lie back. “You said….”

He stilled. With a deep growl, he released her leg and hit the wall again. Her eyes widened when he grabbed her and turned her around. Right when she was about to scratch him, bite him, he pulled her into his arms again, her back against his chest. He shoved her hand to his erection, inhaling sharply at the first touch. His voice gone guttural, he said, “Stroke me.”

Glad for the reprieve, she tentatively held him, in no way able to fit her palm around him. When she didn’t begin at once, he bucked his hips. She finally ran her hand over him in long strokes, looking away.

“Harder.” She tightened her fingers, face hot with embarrassment. Was it so apparent that she had no idea what she was doing?

As if reading her mind, he rasped, “That’s it, lass.” He was kneading her breast, his mouth against her neck, broken sounds coming from his chest. She could feel his muscles tensing. His arm tightened around her until she didn’t think she could breathe. His other hand dipped down to cup her sex.

He growled, “Going tae come.” Then, with a raw groan that drew her gaze back to the sight, his seed came, pumping out into the shower. “Ah, God, yes.” He pawed her breast, but she scarcely felt it, her eyes widening as it continued on and on.

When he’d finished, she realized she was dazedly continuing to stroke him. He stayed her hand as he shuddered, the muscles of his torso rippling.

She was losing her mind. She should be appalled, yet she recognized her body was aching. For him? For the firm hand he’d removed from between her legs?

He pushed her back against the unmarred wall under the showerhead. Leaning his chest against her, he placed his chin on her head and his palms by her face to box her in. “Touch me.”

“Wh-where?” Was that her voice sounding so…husky?

“Doona care.”

She began rubbing his back, and as she did so he kissed the top of her head, absently, as if he didn’t realize he was being kind to her.

His shoulders were broad and, like the rest of him, hard and thick with muscle. Seemingly of their own accord, her hands glided over him more sensually than she would have liked. Each movement brushed her achy nipples against the ridges of his torso. The golden hair on his chest tickled her lips, and despite herself, she imagined kissing that tanned skin. Her sex still throbbed for the semi-erect penis pressed high against her belly, yearned for it even though she’d seen how huge it had grown.

Just when she thought he was about to fall asleep, he murmured in her ear, “I can scent you’re still aroused. Deeply so.”

She sucked in a breath. What exactly was he? “Y-you say these things just to shock me.” She thought he spoke so bluntly because he’d quickly determined how uncomfortable it made her—and she resented him for it.

“Ask me to make you come.”

She tensed. She might be a coward, without accomplishment or talent. But right now she felt fiercely proud. “Never.”

“Your loss. Now, take down the braids. You’ll keep your hair loose.”

“I don’t want to—”

When he reached down to do it himself, she unraveled them, trying to keep her pointed ears covered.

His breath left him with a sharp exhalation. “Let me see them.”

She said nothing as he brushed her hair back.

“They’re like the fey’s.” He ran the backs of his fingers against the sharp tip at the top and she shivered. By his watchful gaze, she knew he was noting her reaction. “Is that a trait of female vampires?”

She’d never seen a full-blooded vampire, male or female. She shrugged.

“Interesting.”

He rinsed her hair, studying her face with an inscrutable expression. When finished, he ordered, “Turn this water off,” then drew her from the stall. Taking a towel, he dried her completely. He even pinned her still—by hugging an arm around her waist—to run the cloth slowly between her legs. Her eyes grew wider as he continued to inspect her as if she were a prospective purchase. He palmed the curves of her bottom, then brought his hand down hard on each side, making sounds of…approval?

He must have noticed her bewildered expression, because he said, “You doona like me learning you?”

“Of course not!”

“I’ll allow you to do the same.” He placed her palm flat on his chest, dragging it down, a challenging look in his eyes.