Home > Bound by the Night (Bound #4)(13)

Bound by the Night (Bound #4)(13)
Author: Cynthia Eden

She clenched her sex around him, squeezing tight.

“Iona…so good…”

She’d show him better than good. She let the bite linger, knowing it would bring more pleasure.

Pleasure. It was what they both wanted. Craved.

He pulled her away from the wall. Wrapped his arms around her so that he held her fully. And his hips still pumped into her. Wolves…so powerful.

Another climax hit her, and this one had her crying out as she lifted her mouth from his flesh. Her breath was choked and the pleasure…it was so intense that it almost hurt.

Her whole body was electrified with feeling. So sensitive that every move of his flesh against hers had Iona tensing.

Then he shoved boxes off a table top. Put her down over it. Her legs dangled in the air.

“We aren’t done,” Jamie promised, his voice so dark and deep.

She wanted to smile. Couldn’t. He’d taken her legs. Hooked them over his shoulders so that she was wide open to him. He took her now, hard and wild, and it was exactly what she wanted. The rush of sensation just wouldn’t stop.

Iona didn’t care that his claws were out. That they’d slashed across the top of the table. She didn’t care that his eyes glowed or that his cheeks had hollowed, signaling the presence of his beast.

She liked the wildness. Wanted it.

His head lifted. She saw the flash of his fangs. Fangs that were even sharper than her own.

Blood and sex—that wasn’t just a combination that worked for vampires.

She turned her head to the side, offering herself to him. Only fair…she’d had her turn.

He took the spot where her neck curved into her shoulder. His lips closed over the flesh. His teeth pressed lightly into her. It didn’t feel like he was drinking from her though.

It felt as if he were…claiming her.

Then he stiffened against her. The hot splash of his release filled her and sent more waves of pleasure pulsing through Iona’s body. Pleasure, life, lust…she wanted it all.

This wasn’t sleep. Wasn’t death. Wasn’t whatever the hell had happened to her because of Latham.

Jamie’s body was pressed to hers. Flesh to flesh. He was the man who’d brought her from that nightmare. Who’d freed her. The man who’d just given her the best orgasm—or three—that she could remember having in this century.

His scent was on her. Her scent was on him. She’d marked him. He’d marked her.

Her lips began to curl. How perfect.

Werewolves were always so territorial. So driven by emotions and needs. By rage. By possessiveness.

Sometimes, their strengths could be weaknesses. Weaknesses that she could use in her battle.

Her frantic heartbeat began to slow down.

She stared up at the cracked ceiling above her, and her hands were still locked around Jamie. When she went to Latham, she’d be carrying Jamie’s scent on her. Revenge, step one.

Not yours, Latham. Never that. Despite what Latham had done to her, she’d escaped. She wasn’t the prisoner in his little trap any longer. Not his plaything for eternity. She was free.

And she’d just f**ked his enemy.

Payback was coming for Latham, and it had just started…

Wait until I bring my nightmare to your door. She’d make Latham scream, plead, then…die.

***

“Are the stories true?”

Iona didn’t glance away from the night sky when Jamie asked the question. She had her back to him. Her legs were drawn up, her arms curled around her knees, and she gazed up at the stars lighting the sky.

When he’d finally been able to speak—and move—again, he’d gotten her out of that back room. Out of the bar and to a safe place. A safe place that had a good bed and fresh clothing for them both. And more comfortable shoes for her. She’d smiled when he’d given her the shoes. He liked her smile. He liked having sex with her a hell of a lot more.

Having sex with her…

Mind-numbing.

The pleasure had been deeper than anything he’d experienced before, and even now, he wanted her again.

If the stories were true, he wasn’t the first man to feel this way for her.

“Which stories do you mean?” Her head tilted back, in what looked like an effort to better see the stars.

He sighed and eased down beside her. They were at a house Sean had found for him, a little place in the woods, and though Jamie had tried to get her inside the cabin, Iona had insisted on sitting outside. Sitting outside and gazing up at the stars.

He followed her stare for a moment, then glanced back at her profile. He much preferred that view. “Are you truly the oldest pureblood?” He asked after a moment of just watching her.

Pureblood…the term for vampires who were born, not made. Most of the vamps populating the world had been made or turned. They were humans who’d been bit, who’d taken vampire blood when they were near death, and who’d been reborn as something more.

But Iona wasn’t like those other vampires. He caught her left hand. Opened the palm. His enhanced vision easily let him see the small mark in the middle of her palm. Those who were born to the blood often had that mark.

That mark…and a circle of gold in their eyes.

Since her eyes were pure gold, the lady more than met that part of the pureblood requirement.

Her slender shoulders rolled in a little circle. “There could be others out there, probably are. I just haven’t met them.”

“When were you born?” Jamie pressed.

Her gaze was still on the stars. “Long before men ever thought they’d travel up there.”

“Iona…”

Another little shrug. “Around 600 A.D., give or take a few years.”

He tried not to let his surprise show.

“I know, I look good for my age, right?” Her lips had curled into a faint smile.

Very good.

He found that he was curious about her. Maybe too curious. “How did you know…what you were?” He’d always known he was a werewolf. When puberty hit, there’d been no surprise when he grew fangs and claws and had the urge to howl at the moon. Surrounded by others of his kind, it had been an easy transition for him.

“I got the first clue when one of my father’s warriors stabbed me in the heart, tossed my body in a shallow grave, and left me to die.” Her gaze drifted to him. The smile was gone from her face. “Yes, that was my first big clue. He left me to die, only…I didn’t.”

His hands clenched into fists. “Why did he do that?”

Her gaze turned back to the stars. “Have they traveled up there? While I was…under…did they travel more to the moon? Maybe to another planet? I’ve seen so much in the years I walked the earth, but I’ve always wanted to go beyond the sky…”

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