Nefri made a soft sound of surrender as she dug her nails into his shoulders, her body instinctively arching in silent invitation.
Santiago didn’t hesitate. Tormenting her sensitive flesh with his tongue, he skimmed his hands down the curve of her waist. She tasted of cool power and sweet woman. An intoxicating combination, he decided as he easily dealt with the zip of her jeans and slid them down her hips.
With a last lingering taste of her nipple, he trailed his lips down the curve of her breast. Then, with a fluid grace he lowered himself to his knees, allowing the tips of his fangs to lightly caress the skin over her taut belly. She shivered, her fingers roughly tugging his hair out of its braid as he pulled her jeans downward, surprised to discover the tiny wisp of lacy . . . what were those under-thingies called?
Panties. Yes, his fogged mind acknowledged. That was it.
Panties.
Hmmm. Tasty.
Reaching down he yanked off her shoes so he could get rid of the jeans. Tossing them aside, he paused to simply appreciate her exquisite beauty.
The bit of lace only served to wet his appetite. Like a bow on a much anticipated gift.
And it was a gift.
The most precious gift.
Grasping her hips, he leaned forward to nibble along the edge of the panties. He smiled as she yanked at his hair, her soft groan sweet music to his ears.
“Good lord,” she muttered.
Tilting back his head, he met Nefri’s smoldering black gaze, her features tight with a stark desire.
“I need you,” he husked.
“I . . . yes.”
He swallowed a chuckle at her rare loss for words and instead lowered his head to slice through the tiny string of her panties with a razor-sharp fang. Barely waiting for the bit of lace to hit the floor, he was tugging her legs further apart to nuzzle a path down her inner leg.
Slowly he explored the curve of her knee, the muscle of her calf, and the delicate joint of her ankle. At last reaching the tips of her toes, he moved to reverse the same service up the other leg.
“Santiago, are you deliberately trying to torture me?” she demanded in thick tones.
“I’ve promised myself I’m going to taste every inch of you,” he said, recalling every restless day he’d lain awake, haunted by the memory of this woman.
Unaware of his dark thoughts, Nefri shifted restlessly beneath his lingering touch. “Enough . . . please.”
He smiled as he at last sought out the tender flesh that begged for his touch. “Your wish is my command.”
His tongue parted her, searching for the spot that made her hips jerk forward, and her toes curl.
“Santiago,” she groaned.
He laughed. “More?”
He spread her even further as he teased the tiny nub hidden in the soft folds. Her fingers stroked restlessly through his hair, the scent of jasmine filling his senses.
His erection threatened to self-combust at the drugging scent, but with ruthless determination he concentrated on Nefri’s tiny shivers. He wanted the taste of her orgasm on his tongue.
Only then would he seek his own pleasure.
Sliding his hands upward, he teased at the hardened peaks of her br**sts while his tongue began a steady stroke that had her groaning in quickening anticipation.
“Don’t stop . . .” she commanded, her voice unsteady as her head tilted back in mindless need.
Stop?
Hell, a tribe of rabid trolls couldn’t make him stop.
Sensing her muscles clenching in anticipation, he gave her one long, last stroke that sent her screaming over the edge.
Holding her hips in a ruthless grip, he coaxed her to yet another climax before he was rising upward and swiftly carrying her toward the bed.
Tumbling her into the center of the mattress, he followed her downward and positioned himself above her while she was still trembling with her release. Thrusting deep, he claimed her lips in a kiss of sheer possession.
His eyes closed and a moan was wrenched from his throat.
This was sheer paradise.
The slender female body that fit beneath him with absolute perfection. The feel of her slender hands as they swept down his back to grasp his hips. And the potent pulse of her outrageous power.
This was a woman like no other.
Rare.
Exceptional.
And . . . his.
With a slow movement he pulled out to his very tip before thrusting back into her silken body. Dios, but he was lost.
Completely and utterly ruined for any other woman.
Burying his face in the curve of her neck, Santiago pistoned his hips over and over, keeping his pace steady as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Her nails bit into his skin as she met him thrust for thrust, heightening his pleasure.
The climax was building and he lifted his head to press tiny kisses over her face.
“Nefri, I can’t wait,” he rasped.
“Good,” she muttered, cupping his face in her hands as he plunged within her.
He managed to hold on until he could feel her ripples of satisfaction clenching him, then with a last groan, he lost himself in the fierce orgasm that ripped away all pretense and left him with the unshakable knowledge his life would never be the same.
Just north of Chicago
Sally woke with a throbbing head and a nasty premonition that she was ass-deep in trouble.
Like a coward she kept her eyes squeezed shut and tried to will herself back to sleep. If something bad was coming, why be conscious for it?
Unfortunately, she was sprawled on a hard cement floor that was giving her a cramp in the neck. And since whatever might be lurking in the dark didn’t seem to be in a hurry to kill her, she grudgingly forced her heavy lids to lift.
She grimaced. On the up side, the large unoccupied room was thankfully empty of a ravaging horde. On the down side, it was coated in a thick layer of dust that now covered her from head to toe.
Stifling a sneeze, she managed to rise to her feet, pressing a hand to her aching temple.
Where the hell was she?
And more importantly, how did she get there?
Her gaze skimmed over the brick walls and the windows that had been boarded over. The floor was cement and the lofted ceiling lined with steel beams.
A warehouse? A closed factory?
Taking a hesitant step forward, she desperately tried to remember what had happened. She’d been traveling through the tunnel with Roke, right? And then they’d come to the end of the tunnel even as her powers were running on empty.
What then? Vaguely she recalled Roke leaving to search the building overhead.
Had he abandoned her? Or had something happened to him? Was he hurt?
Or worse . . . ?
Before the disturbing thoughts could fully form, she was shaking her aching head. No. He’d come back. Yes. That was right. He’d come back and . . .