A Hunger Like No Other (Immortals After Dark #2)(55)
Author: Kresley Cole

He’d given her the mother of all hangovers – a run-in with the wrath of grapes. Her very first. If he’d truly had "a dram or two," surely she wouldn’t have been that tanked and wouldn’t be this hungover now. Last night, as she’d dressed and set out to explore once more, she’d been buzzed all the way up until she collapsed in her blankets at dawn. And the floor of the massive castle had spun. She was sure of it.

He must have drunk like a frat pledge before coming to her.

Bastard.

When she exited the bathroom in her towel to go to her closet to dress, he followed, leaning against the doorframe as she picked out clothes. There were new pieces everywhere. Purses and shoes as well.

She padded along, checking out the offerings, analyzing them with a discerning eye. She was picky about her clothes and had always eschewed anything that didn’t conform to her hipster/contrarian fashion style. She’d found that any garment not vintage or D.W.O.T.B – damn well off the boat – didn’t conform…

"Do you like everything?" he asked.

She tilted her head, a flare of anger bubbling up when she saw that her own luggage was conspicuously absent. "Oh, I’ll be sending for everything when I go home," she answered with absolute honesty.

With her forefinger pointed down, she made a spinning gesture indicating he should turn around. When he complied, she hastily donned underwear, a bra and jeans for running, and a loose sweater.

She ambled past him and sat on the bed, only now noticing that every window was covered in shutters. Of course, he’d had this done. After all, he didn’t believe she was going anywhere – because he didn’t think she could escape him. "When did these come?"

"Installed today. They will open automatically at sunset and close at dawn."

"They’re closed."

He eyed her. "Sun’s no’ fully set yet."

She shrugged, though she did wonder why she’d been rising so early. "You haven’t asked me to drink."

He raised his eyebrows. "Will you?"

"Right after a Breathalyzer test." When he frowned, she said, "Measures how drunk you are."

He did not even look guilty. "I’ve had no liquor tonight and only want you to take." He sat down, too close beside her.

"Why did you rush to the shower last night? Do you find the act so unclean?"

A short laugh. "Emma, it’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced. In the shower, I took release so I doona break my vow to you."

She frowned. "You mean you – ?"

"Oh, aye." His lips curled as he looked down into her eyes. "Every night you’ve got me like a randy lad."

He was completely unembarrassed to admit he’d stroked himself to orgasm mere feet away from her. At that exact time she’d been rolling in his bed, struggling not to touch her own body. How…titillating. She blushed as much from his admission as from her own thoughts. I wish I’d seen him doing that.

No, no, no. If she kept staring at his sexy smirk, she’d forget her plan, forget the hurt she’d felt upon realizing he’d nicked himself and tricked her and held her in place against him until she drank.

Consequences. Messing with vampire Emmaline Troy now brought consequences.

When the shutters opened with a smooth hum, revealing the night, she said, "Lachlain, I have an idea." Did she truly have the mettle to retaliate? Consequences. Paying in kind. Surprising herself, she found the answer was yes. "I think there’s a way we could both ‘take release’ while I drink."

"I’m listening," he said quickly.

"I mean from the act itself." Her voice was a purr as she glided to the floor to kneel before him. With delicate, pale hands, she tentatively eased open his knees.

His jaw slackened as realization hit him. "You doona mean – ?" He should be recoiling. His c**k stood stiff as a pole.

"I want all of you, Lachlain." Purring words. Lovely Emmaline with her plump lips gazing up at him with beseeching blue eyes. "All that you have to give."

He wanted to give her anything she desired. Anything. With a shaking hand, she unfastened the top button of his jeans.

He swallowed hard.

Shouldn’t he at least be hesitant about this? Lord help him, he was fighting to keep his hands off the back of her head to rush her. He sensed she could easily lose her nerve, knew she had never before given a man this pleasure. To begin the night of the full moon with this…? He was dreaming.

She slowly unzipped his jeans, gasping when he sprang forth, then gave him a shy but seductive smile, seeming pleased by his erection. She held it with two hands as if she’d never let him go.

"Emma." His voice was broken.

"Hold out for as long as you can," she said, stroking his length once. His eyes closed with pleasure.

He felt her breath first, making him shudder. Then her slick lips, then her tongue darting and flicking over his flesh. Ah, she had a wicked little tongue –

Sweet God, her bite.

He gave an anguished groan, falling back on the bed, only to immediately raise his hand to cup her face and his head to watch her mouth on his cock. He was a twisted man… "I had…no idea. Always like this," he growled. "Always."

He didn’t know if he was going to come at once or pass out. Her hands were everywhere, cupping, teasing, driving him wild. She moaned against him, and her sucking grew greedy. She’d never taken this much, but if she needed, he would give. He was weakening, yet he never wanted it to end. "Emma, I’m going to – " His eyes rolled back in his head and everything turned black.

26

Don’t look back, put on my shoes in the car. Run like hell.

She did. Straight to the extensive garage, scanning for keys to the many cars, finding nothing. Frustration welled up. But then words were whispered in her head, like silk fluttering down.

Run.

She was trying to! No keys. She sprinted back and scanned around the castle for a work truck, a freaking tractor at this point.

She stilled and frowned, feeling warmth from just above the horizon. As if in a trance, she lifted her face to it. The full moon. Rising tonight.

She felt the light. Like she’d always imagined people did with the sun.

Her hearing was sensitive; things called to her from the forest beyond. She’d avoided that dark place in all her exploring. The sight of it had defeated even her newfound sense of courage.

Run there.

She had to fight the urge to sprint headlong into the abysmal-looking forest. Lachlain would catch her there – he was a hunter, a tracker. That’s what he did. She had no chance of escaping.

Still her body twitched from the battle, as if she missed running within the forest, though she’d never been. Was she going mad even to think of this?