Born in Blood (The Sentinels #1)(69)

Fate.

Such a dangerous thing.

“What do you mean?”

Duncan pulled down her panties, a slumberous sensuality darkening his eyes as he glanced up to meet her searching gaze.

“This is more than mere lust,” he murmured. “This is an obsession that goes way beyond explanation. What else could it be but fate?”

She didn’t have a damn clue. It was another of those things to put on the worry-about-later list. For now her entire body was humming with an electric excitement.

“Who am I to fight against fate?” she sighed, her fingers threading through his hair in silent encouragement.

Something rippled over the starkly beautiful features before he leaned forward to place an openmouthed kiss on her inner thigh.

Callie shivered, her lashes fluttering downward as his hands skimmed up the naked curve of her butt and gripped her hips to hold her in place.

Not that she was going anywhere.

Hell, no.

She gave a small gasp as he turned his head to find the liquid heat between her legs. His tongue parted her, teasing her pleasure point with a tender urgency that soon had her entire body pulsing with an aching need.

God Almighty. It was just as wondrous as she remembered. Just as mind blowing.

Duncan had called it obsession. And perhaps that’s what it was. A hot, ruthless obsession that could easily consume her.

She sucked in a strangled breath, her knees feeling weak as he laved her most sensitive nub of flesh with a growing insistence. Oh, yes. Her fingers tightened in his hair, her breath rasping loudly in the silent room. That was the exact, perfect spot.

But Duncan was in the mood to tease.

Or maybe he just enjoyed torturing her.

Over and over, he brought her to the peak of fulfillment, only to pull away at the last second.

Her eyes fluttered open as his mouth shifted to brand hot, restless kisses over the curve of her hip.

“I intended to do this all afternoon,” he rasped against her skin. “But, I need to be inside you. Deep inside you.”

Hovering on the brink of her climax, she shifted her hands to grasp his shoulders and urge him upward.

“Then do it,” she commanded in a thick voice.

He chuckled as he straightened, lowering his head to stroke his tongue down the length of her neck. He nuzzled her pounding pulse before his head was dipping even lower and his lips covered the tip of her throbbing nipple.

Callie moaned at the dizzying sensations. Should she be worried that this man had the ability to make her melt with vulnerable longing?

Especially when they might soon be parted?

The brief moment of uncertainty was forgotten as he used his teeth to pleasure her nipple with a tender urgency that was tightening her muscles and making her legs weak. A low growl rumbled in his throat as his hands skated down her heated skin and grasped her hips. Then, without warning, he was turning her around and urging her toward the wall.

Caught off guard, she swiveled her head to regard him over her shoulder. “Duncan?”

The lean features were tight and bathed with a damp perspiration, as if he were struggling against a mighty force.

“Trust me,” he husked as he wrenched off his jeans and underwear. Then, he pressed his body to her back and buried his face in the curve of her neck. “I promise you’ll like this.”

“But . . .”

Her words came to a choked halt as his fingers slid down the gentle swell of her stomach and then through the dampness between her legs.

“I’ve spent a hundred nights tossing and turning on that bed, imagining what I would do with you if I ever managed to lure you here.” He gave a punishing nip on the curve of her shoulder while his finger slid inside her and began to stroke with a slow insistence. “This was number one.”

Her head fell back against his shoulder. A delicious pressure was beginning to build within her. Later she would tell him a few of her own fantasies.

But that would be later, she conceded as she felt his hard c**k pressing between her legs. With gentle care he removed his finger and then with one slow thrust he was buried deep inside her.

Returning to Valhalla, Fane entered his apartment for a quick shower and a change of clothing. Not that anyone could tell the difference. His wardrobe consisted of cammos, khakis, T-shirts, and shit-kickers.

The hunter Sentinels liked to prance around in expensive clothes and drive cars that made a real man wonder if they were compensating for something. But guardians ... they knew what was important.

And it couldn’t be bought in a store.

Making a brief stop by the morgue, he eventually made his way to the Mave’s office to update her on the medics’ examination of Leah’s body. Then, stepping into the hall, he was debating whether to catch a quick lunch in the public dining room or to return to his apartment when a prickle of power raced over his skin.

Slowly turning, he already knew it was his Tagos approaching. Wolfe carried with him an electrical energy that was like a punch in the gut.

The tall man with a hawkish profile was dressed from head to toe in black. His dark hair was left free to flow down to his shoulders with the white streak next to his hard face shimmering in the sunlight that poured through the overhead skylight.

Wolfe halted a few feet away. They were both predators in their own way. Space was a necessity.

“Did the medics find anything?” the Tagos demanded.