Born in Blood (The Sentinels #1)(31)
Author: Alexandra Ivy

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he muttered, his tongue outlining her lips. “Too long.”

Callie gave a welcoming groan as one roaming hand returned between her thighs to stroke through her growing dampness.

“No one’s stopping you,” she pointed out, breathless.

He crushed her lips in a searing kiss. “I want to worship you,” he husked as his finger slid into her tight flesh. “Slowly.”

Callie instinctively dug her heels into the mattress as she arched her hips upward.

“Slow is fine. But, this is … is …” Oh man, his finger was creating the most delicious sensations as he dipped it in and out of her. “Torture.”

His lips cruised over her cheek, then down the line of her jaw. “No, sweetheart, this is torture.” He pressed a kiss to the pulse racing at the base of her throat. “And this.” His mouth trailed down until he could latch onto the tip of her breast. “And this.” He used his tongue to lash the delicate nipple until she was panting with need.

The aggravating man. He wasn’t playing fair.

Lifting her hands, she shoved her fingers in his golden hair and wrapped her legs around his hips.

“You’re going to pay for this, cop.”

Pulling back, he regarded her with a faint smile, the flecks of gold shimmering in the hazel eyes.

“Do you promise?”

She deliberately rubbed herself against the granite-hard length of his erection.

“Oh, I promise.”

He started to lower his head, only to pause as his gaze caught sight of the tiny tattoo hidden behind her ear. His finger brushed the delicate black hieroglyph.

“What’s this?”

“A spell of protection against common diseases.”

“You can’t get sick?”

“Not by any human illness.”

His eyes narrowed as a blush stained her cheeks. “What else?”

“It keeps me from becoming pregnant until I’m ready to have children.” She shifted beneath him. “Of course I have to have sex before I need to worry about that possibility.”

His breath caught. “Callie.” Bracing himself on his elbow, he shifted until the tip of his c**k pressed against her entrance. “Are you sure?”

She tugged his hair, meeting his oddly watchful gaze. “I’m a big girl. I know what I want.”

“I just don’t want any regrets.”

“Duncan, if you don’t get on with it, I’m going to—”

Not giving her time to complete her empty threat, Duncan tilted his hips forward, sliding into her with a slow, relentless thrust.

Hissing softly, Callie clutched at Duncan’s shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. Yes, yes, yes. It felt … perfect.

Achingly perfect.

Already prepared for his entry, her body readily accommodated his erection. Still, there was a delicious sense of fullness, and a startling connection, that she hadn’t been expecting.

In this moment she was joined to Duncan. Joined in a way that seemed far more poignant than two bodies simply having sex.

It was …

Her mind instantly veered from examining the powerful feelings that sizzled through her. Dammit. This wasn’t supposed to be more than a fleeting pleasure.

“Callie,” he whispered close to her ear. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, just don’t stop,” she moaned, burying her face in the curve of his neck.

“Stop? Not even if there was a gun pointed to my head,” he muttered, pulling from her body before pushing back in with an increasing urgency. “I’ve never felt anything so good.”

Callie agreed as he was once again withdrawing and thrusting forward with a rhythm that stole her breath. Mmmm. This was what she’d wanted from the minute she’d laid eyes on Duncan O’Conner.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Callie scored her nails down his back, pleased when he hissed in pleasure. She dug her nails deeper, rewarded as his lips found hers in a wild, demanding kiss.

His hips rocked faster, his hands scooping beneath her hips to angle them upward to meet his deep, steady thrusts.

“Duncan … hurry,” she muttered against his lips, her body clenched so tightly she felt as if she might shatter.

“Just let it happen, sweetheart.” Angling his head downward, he tormented her tender nipple, his hips pumping faster and faster as she arched off the bed to meet him.

Callie’s breath rasped through the shadows, her concentration narrowing to the precise point where Duncan’s body surged in and out of her.

She was racing toward a critical goal.

And she was close.

So close.

And then … it happened.

With one last surge he catapulted her over the finish line, sending her into a convulsion of exquisite bliss.

He muffled her scream of pleasure with a fierce kiss, continuing to pump into her shuddering body until he stiffened with his own release.

Dropping his head into the curve of her neck, Duncan struggled to catch his breath.

“My god.”

Chapter Twelve

Dawn was barely creeping over the horizon when Zak entered the panic room built in the basement.

The six-by-six cement room was built for protection, not comfort. There were no windows, the door was six-inch steel, and there was no furniture beyond a narrow bed.

Certain the door was locked and Anya standing guard outside, Zak settled on the bed and closed his eyes. Slowing his breath, then the beat of his heart, he delved into the place inside himself that contained his power.

It was dark and cold. A bottomless pit that had nearly swallowed him whole the first time he tapped it.

Now he grimly braced himself as he touched the icy depths, battling not to be sucked in even as he forced the darkness to pulse through his veins, the frigid power searing through him with a pain few others would be able to tolerate.

For him, it was a reminder of the cost of failure.

One slip and the darkness would destroy him.

Submerged in his power, Zak reached for the small bowl on the mattress next to him. Once it was settled in his lap, he placed his hands over Leah’s heart, releasing the magic into the beating organ.

There was a brief, disorienting moment as he slid from his corporal body and winged his way south of town to a neighborhood even more exclusive than the one he’d chosen.

He entered Leah’s body, hissing as the darkness abruptly swelled up, trying to claim him.

No. He clenched his teeth, his muscles rigid with strain. He was the master. Death would bow to him.

Sweat beaded his brow, but with clenched jaw he leashed the power and carefully allowed it to trickle into Leah’s corpse.