Ecstasy in Darkness (Alien Huntress #5)(16)
Author: Gena Showalter

“Is that what you’ve been doing today? Fighting vampires?”

A stiff nod. “Among other things.”

“Well, no wonder your wound wasn’t healing. Moron! Injuries require rest.”

His grip tightened on her wrists, almost bruising, yet managing to skate the edge of pain. “Yes, but someone made me a target for every vampire in the area. They scented me out, knew I was weakened and they’d never have a better chance to defeat me, and attacked.”

Her stomach clenched at the thought of this man being hurt, and she scowled. She was the moron. Concern for the enemy? Again? “Did you kill them?”

“Accidentally,” he grumbled.

Good. To attack a helpless man—she almost laughed. As if McKell would be helpless, even buried ten feet underground with his hands and feet tied. Still. Those vampires had deserved what they got. “I didn’t realize so many bloodsuckers lived up here.”

“They’ve learned to hide their race.”

And now he wanted to do so? Was that why he wanted to talk to them? To learn how they did it? “So you want me to question them for you, is that it?”

“No. Just … distract them for me.”

Not a bad deal. Afterward, she’d bring in McKell, as ordered, and look like a hero. She would also learn the names and locations of the other vampires, just in case Mia wanted to test their blood, as well. That wouldn’t be a betrayal to McKell. Okay, it would, but she barely knew him, and he was the enemy. The sexiest, most erotic enemy of her acquaintance, but whatever. Her loyalty was to AIR.

“I agree. I’ll help you find and distract other vampires, and in return you’ll talk with Mia Snow. So do we need to seal this deal with a kiss or what?” she asked flippantly. Or meant to ask flippantly. The heated catch of her breath gave her away. Longing … so much longing … since the very first.

For several seconds, he simply stared at her, gaze eating her up, leaving her panting, shaky. She tried to pull away, to end the madness. To destroy the minefield of awareness.

“Yes,” he finally said, and hauled her onto his lap.

Six

Holy hell, McKell thought.

As Ava gasped in shock, hands slapping against his chest to find balance, knees straddling his thighs, he thrust his tongue deep into her mouth. Warm, wet, sweet. That’s what she was, and she utterly slayed him, not fighting him but embracing him, giving as much as he did.

She’d wanted it; he’d known she had. Had smelled her arousal, as sweet as the woman herself. But there’d still been a question in his mind. She wanted, but would she acquiesce? She was a warrior, after all, and as fierce as he was. Maybe even more so. Not once since he’d entered her home had she truly feared him.

Now, though, he knew beyond any doubt. She’d acquiesced. Amazingly so.

He moaned in pleasure, and tragically the sound jolted his common sense. Shouldn’t be this good. Nothing should be this good.

Still. He didn’t stop. Couldn’t. Even though he was shaky and needed to remain on guard. Especially with this unpredictable woman. He let their tongues continue to play, to duel, to roll and thrust, sipping, feeding, driving them closer and closer to a ledge they might later wish they’d never built. For it was a ledge of their own making, one that promised a torturous fall, a fatal landing. He could have stayed away. She could have refused him. Neither of them had.

He could have left after she’d practically dared him to sample these tantalizing lips.

They were fools. He’d come here to drink her dry. He’d come here to yell at her, shake her, choke her, something. And he’d been primed for a fight. He’d had to avoid two doorways on the way here. Usually he merely encountered one a day. That was all. But they seemed to be following him now, more determined than ever to suck him inside.

One look at her, though, those amber eyes ablaze, and he’d forgotten the urge to fight and decided to bargain with her and she had agreed. Oh, yes. They were fools.

This kiss would have to suffice as “something.”

But he couldn’t regret his choice. Not while her nails sank into his shoulders, not to push him away but to urge him closer. Not while her core rubbed against his shaft, insistent, determined. Not while he plumped the sweet mounds of her br**sts, her ni**les rasping against his palms. Sweet heaven.

He’d thought he would have to force his way inside, but again, she had surprised him. Had allowed him to walk right in, teasing him all the while. She’d even doctored him, those delicate-looking hands gentle on his wound.

Why wasn’t she trying to hurt him further?

He knew why he was acting as he was. He was weakened from blood loss. He’d tried to feed before coming here. Many times, as he’d told her, but his stomach had rebelled and he’d vomited nearly every drop. He didn’t know why—that had never happened to him before—but he knew where to lay the blame.

Punish her as originally planned.

“McKell,” she said on a moan.

Forget punishing her. He must have suspected he would go this route. Why else would he have washed his mouth so many times?

“You don’t really like to be treated like a lady, right? Please tell me you don’t.” She’d told Noelle she was a fragile flower.

“I don’t. Treat me bad. Real bad.”

Thank God. He released her br**sts and sank his fingers into her scalp, forcing her head to tilt and allowing him deeper contact. As the kiss spun even closer to that dangerous ledge, intensifying, he slid his hands down her back, along the ridges of her spine, and stopped on her ass, dragging her closer … closer still …

“Ava,” he said on a moan. He tightened his grip on her, probably leaving bruises.

“I’m not convinced you’re serious about our bargain,” she rasped. “Convince me some more.”

“More. Yes.”

The tips of his fangs sharpened, ready, eager. He couldn’t help himself; he scraped them against her tongue. She jerked, unprepared, groaned, but didn’t pull away. She edged the rest of the way, connecting fully, only clothing keeping him from penetration. He sucked. A bead of her blood trickled into his mouth, down his throat, dancing in his stomach, and he jerked. The decadent flavor … like the sugar sweetness of her lipgloss …

Good no longer described this kiss. Exquisite, maybe. Perfection, definitely. Addicting, probably.

Addicted? Yes. He was. And he wasn’t sorry.

He needed more, as he’d told her. Had to have more. He sucked, and another bead formed. Once again the drugging sweetness astonished him. He savored before swallowing, the warmth instantly traveling through him, strengthening him, easing the sting in his wound. Finally, it began to heal.