Hunt the Darkness (Guardians of Eternity #11)(23)

Her hands lifted, somehow slipping beneath his leather jacket to explore the wide chest covered by nothing more than the thin tee.

“Roke.”

He growled in satisfaction as his seeking lips found the pulse that beat at her temple.

“This isn’t the mating.”

Her fingers grasped his shirt, her brow furrowed in confusion as tingles of excitement raced down her spine.

She could barely breathe; how was she supposed to think?

“What?”

“This heat that burns between us.” He pulled back, the candlelight reflected in his pale eyes. “It has nothing to do with the mating.”

She shook her head, refusing to admit that she’d been in lust with this man since she caught sight of him.

She needed to cling to the pretense that there was nothing but the spell between them.

Otherwise . . .

She slammed the door before the dangerous fear could form.

“Of course it does.”

There was a hint of fang as he trailed his mouth over her flushed cheek, his fingers sliding down to circle her throat.

“You can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to me,” he growled. “This desire ignited the moment we met.”

The denial died on her lips.

He was right.

The scent of her stirring arousal had to be blatantly obvious to Roke. Her short time in captivity had taught her there was no hiding anything from a damn vampire.

Just one of the countless reasons they were such pains in the ass.

Instead she did what every witch trained in the dark arts did when backed into a corner.

She went on the attack.

“You mean the same moment I was locked in a cell and you told me how much you hated witches?”

He stiffened, unable to deny her accusation. “I didn’t claim our first meeting was particularly romantic.”

“You wouldn’t know romantic if it smacked you in the face.”

“Probably not,” he grimaced. “My social skills are questionable.”

“You think?” she snapped, trying to ignore the unexpected emotion that flared through the silver eyes.

That hint of the stark loneliness did something dangerous deep inside her.

“But I do recognize when a woman wants me,” he stubbornly warned, his hand slipping to cup her nape. With a tug he had her pressed against the unyielding width of his chest. “And you, Sally Grace, want me.”

“Why you arrogant . . .” He swooped down to steal a kiss. She jerked her head back to glare at him. “Ass . . .” He kissed her again, his lips unexpectedly tender. “Roke . . .” she pleaded, shivering as a honeyed heat flooded through her. “Stop that.”

“Why?” he rasped, blatantly rubbing his fully erect cock against her lower stomach.

She sucked in a strangled breath, a fierce need jolting through her and for a dazed second she couldn’t remember why.

She’d wanted this aggravating vampire with a fierce craving that was making her nuts.

Why not rip off the tee and lick her way down his body? A few tugs and she could have him stripped of his clothes, then she could take that cock in her mouth and bring the proud vampire to his knees. From there it would be a simple matter to press him backward and climb on top of him and . . .

The vivid fantasies refused to be banished, even as she kept her hands from straying over the chiseled muscles beneath her palms.

“We’re supposed to be finding a way to get rid of each other, not making things worse.”

“How could this make things worse?”

He lowered his head and nuzzled a path of destruction down the curve of her neck. Sally trembled, raw heat flaring through her at the erotic feel of his fangs scraping against her tender flesh.

“I—”

“Yes, my love?”

She struggled to hold on to the unraveling thread of her protest.

“I don’t have sex with men who hate me.”

He jerked his head back, as if genuinely surprised by her words.

“You think I hate you?”

“Don’t you?” she accused.

“No.”

“You blame me for the spell that forced you to become my mate.”

His lips twisted, his brooding gaze sweeping over her tense body.

“I feel a lot of things, but hate isn’t one of them.”

“If the spell was broken—”

Stark hunger flared through his eyes. Oh . . . goddess.

“I’d still want you,” he growled, lowering his head, to allow his fangs to scrape down the curve of her neck. “Like this.”

“Roke,” she breathed.

A tiny voice warned that she should be terrified by the threat of those enormous weapons so close to her veins, but her body instinctively arched to rub against the hard thrust of his erection.

Roke groaned, his hands slipping beneath her sweatshirt to tug it up and over her head.

The cool air brushed over her skin, but it did nothing to ease the feverish heat that flowed through her veins. A heat that only intensified as he cupped her bare breasts in his hands, his thumbs teasing her nipples to tight beads.

Sally squeezed her eyes closed, savoring the agonizing pleasure of Roke’s touch at the same time she could feel the hunger that pulsed through him.

Perhaps their bond was an illusion, but there was a heady sensation in experiencing their mutual reaction as his lips traced the line of her shoulder and then down her inner arm, sketching the intricate crimson scrolling with the tip of his tongue.