“Oh,” she said, and the warmth of his breath might as well have been a touch. She felt it in the tightening of her nipples, the wet heat between her thighs. “Well, if you put it that way.”
He laughed again and stepped away from her, and she could hear him undressing, and she oh so easily could imagine what he looked like. But she didn’t want to imagine. She wanted to see that long, hard body in all his naked glory. But the promise of that wicked pleasure he’d vowed gave her willpower to wait. She’d see him and soon, even if it wasn’t soon enough.
“Ready for me?” he asked, standing behind her—she could tell—but not touching her. She started to turn again.
He stopped her with his body, his shaft, hard and thick, pressing between her thighs. “I’m not done with you like this.” His hands caressing a path down her arms, until his fingers tangled with hers. He dragged her hands up her body, to her breasts, where he melded her palms. “How does that feel?”
“Like you’re teasing me and enjoying it way too much,” she said without hesitation. In some far corner of her mind, she realized the directness she favored outside the bedroom had made its way inside it with Aiden. It was a first, and it was a good first. She knew he’d be gone soon, knew he wasn’t the stay around kind of guy, which meant she needed to enjoy every second of this freedom she felt with him.
And when he was suddenly on his knees, his hands and his mouth, exploring her legs, her cheeks, her hips, she was pretty sure that wasn’t going to be a difficult process. “Open for me, sweetheart,” he urged, his teeth scraping her back side while his hands nudging her legs apart.
Her bravado and daring, wanton self, slid into a moment of vulnerability over his dominant position. She had her back to him, her legs wide. It was terrifyingly erotic, and incredibly arousing. His fingers hooked forward and found her clit flicking it, even as he worked the wet, slick heat gathering around it.
“I’m going to fall down,” she whispered, holding onto the footboard. “Aiden I-”
He moved and before she could figure out his intention, he had turned around so that he was sitting with his back pressed against the footboard. Still standing, her knees were weak with anticipation. She faced him now, her stomach erotically placed near his mouth. His mouth that she desperately wanted on her skin, her body, and in the most intimate of ways. He wrapped his arm around her backside, lowering his head, his breath warm on her clit, teasing her a moment before he gave her what she craved. Before that mouth closed down on her, the wet, wicked heat of his tongue swirled around her swollen nub.
“Oh…ah…” She wasn’t sure what she was trying to say. “Aiden I…” His fingers slid inside her, his tongue doing amazing, incredible things, and she was so already on edge, so ready to tumble into bliss. Release came in a sudden intense rush that stole her breath, and then sent spasms through her core and delicious chills through her body. Time stood still, pleasure enveloping her, until slowly she began to slide downward, and the next thing she knew she was on top of Aiden, and he was holding her.
Their breaths mingled, their eyes locked, and even inside the darkness of the room, she felt that connection to her soul. This man was like no other before him, and perhaps none after. They didn’t speak, but they didn’t have to. That was part of what made him, them, so different.
He shifted her hips, and brought his thick arousal to the slick readiness of her body. She knew in some far corner of her mind that birth control was smart—and she was a smart person. Logic faded though, sliding into the feel of him pressing inside her, of their breaths mingling, as they seemed to become one. Slowly, she inched down the length of him, his shaft stretching her deliciously, until she had all of him. Until he was buried deeply inside her.
His hand stroked through her hair. “Dangerous,” he murmured against her mouth, a moment before his teeth scraped her lip, and she felt the prick, the blood. He licked it off, then slanted his mouth over hers, kissing with a wildness she’d not felt in him before now, a wildness she’d known existed. Wildness, she realized in that moment, that she wanted to unleash. The sensual, slow heat of making love shifted into a frenzy of touching, kissing—fucking. Yes, he was fucking her, and she was fucking him—riding him hard, rocking against him, with a burning need she had to answer. She’d never in her life wanted love making to become outright fucking but it had, and the shift from one to the other, was hotter than anything she’d ever experienced. She wanted it to go on and on, but the pleasure—the pleasure was so good, so intense. Too soon, she felt the rise of release—felt her body clench at his cock. He shook with her, pumping hard and pressing her hips against his, and she knew she’d taken him with her. They collapsed together, holding each other. It was perfect, absolutely perfect, peaceful—right. That was until a loud, shrieking sound of male pain radiated from the outer edges of the house.
Aiden was on his feet in an instant, taking her with him. “Go the bathroom and lock the door.”
She could hear him moving, getting dressed, and she blinked trying to focus. “What is it?” she asked, rushing toward the light.
He grabbed her arm. “No lights.” He tugged her towards the bathroom and shoved her inside. “Don’t even think about coming out until I come back.”
“What’s wrong?”
He shut the door. “Lock it.”
Unnerved by the darkness, Kelly ignored one of Aiden’s orders. She flipped on the light but quickly locked the door. “Aiden?”
No answer. He was gone. She drew in a breath, searched the room for clothes, and found an oversized robe. She quickly shoved her arms in it and tied it. Aiden had no gun. She would have known. Oh God. He had no weapon. Why was that? Didn’t FBI agents carry weapons? She didn’t let herself think about the danger to herself, only that of Aiden and Troy, and she couldn’t let them die for her. That was when she heard another sound, almost like a pained animal, but somehow, not. It was…oh god—it was Troy. Troy was hurt. She had to help, she had medical training. Another howl of pain echoed through the walls. A horrible, pained sound. She fumbled with the lock, yanked open the door, and started running toward the sound.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Aiden heard the shattering of glass, and the low growls that were coming from his brother, before he ever rounded the living room wall. The sounds a wolf made, not the sounds of a vampire.
“Troy,” he shouted, bringing a room filled with broken décor and shredded furniture into view, with his brother in the center of it all.
Troy whirled around to face Aiden, his eyes glowing a weird orange inside the blue, his fangs extended. Aiden saw more a vampire with bloodlust than he did wolf in Troy. Why that offered any relief, he didn’t know, but it did. Bloodlust wasn’t something a vampire recovered from. Bloodlust made them killers, like the vampire who’d killed their family and everyone else in their village.
“Troy,” he said softly, taking a step forward. “Talk to me, brother. What’s happening?”
Troy threw his head back and howled like a wolf in pain, like a wolf captive in a vampire’s body. Aiden charged toward him, determined to take Troy down, and confine him until this passed. Lord, he hoped it did pass. But Troy was as fast as Aiden, and that howl didn’t slow him down. They collided and went rolling onto the ground, after bouncing off what was left of Kelly’s couch.