Immortal Danger (Night Watch 0.5)(24)
Author: Cynthia Eden

Then her tongue touched him. Licked away the drop of moisture that had beaded on the head of his c**k and slowly moved down his erect length.

Her hand wrapped tight around the base of his shaft. Began to pump as she licked.

Sonofabitch.

His muscles were taut. His heart slammed against his chest. He could smell her, was breathing her in-and he had to take her.

Her mouth closed over his cock.

His control shattered.

With a snarl, Adam locked his arms around her and jerked her back up the length of his body. He kissed her. Hard. Deep. Then he rolled her under his body, pinning her beneath him.

Her legs spread immediately for him.

Her gaze met his. Hunger blazed in her eyes, a hunger to match his own.

He parted her folds, pushed his c**k against her moist opening-

And drove balls-deep in one long, swift thrust.

Her legs clamped around him, her heels brushing his ass, and she bucked against him.

"More." One word, husky with need, slipped past her lips.

Adam withdrew, pulled to the very entrance of her body, and thrust inside. Again, again, again.

She met him each time, her hips rising to drive against his as they fought for release.

The bed squeaked beneath them, the harsh sound blending with their moans and ragged breathing, and seeming to drive the passion even higher.

More. The order had been hers, but the need was his. He wanted to feel more of her, to taste more, to have more.

To have everything.

Her ni**les pressed against his chest and he just had to taste her br**sts again. Her back arched when he tongued her nipple, then he drew it deep into his mouth.

And he thrust. Plunged deep. Withdrew.

Her fingers raked down his back. Her hips bucked beneath his.

The base of Adam’s spine began to tingle. His balls drew tight against his body as his orgasm approached in a powerful, driving wave.

His fingers pushed between their bodies. Found her clit. Rubbed, tugged.

Her sex clenched around him in a spasm of release as she cried out, shuddering beneath him.

Adam drove into her one final time and stiffened. His release barreled through him, stronger, harder, than anything he’d ever experienced. Pleasure exploded, singeing his nerves and rippling through his muscles.

When the climax ended, when the haze of lust and need finally cleared from his eyes, he looked down at Maya.

She gazed back at him, a faint furrow between her brows and a wet tear track sliding from the corner of her right eye.

He stared at her, not sure what to say or do. His c**k was still cradled in her moist heat, already stirring again.

Slowly, the furrow smoothed away and a slow smile stretched her lips. She said, simply, "More."

He was only too happy to oblige.

When she slept, she turned from him. Curled onto her side and faced the pale blue wall.

He didn’t like that.

Adam gazed at Maya’s back, aware of a simmering sense of discontent within him.

His body was replete, the voracious hunger for Maya temporarily satisfied. But…

It seemed as if something were missing.

Because she’d turned from me.

Curled in on herself. Hunched her shoulders and drifted away from him.

He didn’t know how to pull her back.

His hand lifted, stroked a lock of her hair.

She didn’t stir.

His fingers clenched into a fist.

Sleep pulled at her, but Maya’s eyes were open as she stared at the peeling wall. Her sex still quivered with little aftershocks of pleasure. She clenched her thighs together, enjoying the feeling.

As she’d enjoyed Adam.

He was touching her now. Stroking her hair. She held carefully still when she felt that tentative touch, aware of a sudden yearning to turn toward him, to curl against that muscled chest and sleep cradled in his arms.

Ridiculous, of course.

She didn’t need to be held to sleep. Never had.

They’d just had great sex-pretty amazing sex, actually, but just sex. She didn’t need anything more from him.

Didn’t need anything more from anyone.

She closed her eyes and deliberately pushed Adam’s image from her mind. A battle waited ahead of her. She needed all the sleep she could get.

She pictured darkness, complete and empty in her mind. It was an old trick, one she’d perfected as a child when the sounds from the room next door grew too loud and she had to shut them out to sleep.

To stay sane.

Darkness. Always the darkness.

She pictured the darkness closing around her. Shielding her.

Darkness.

Silence.

Her breath began to slow. Her body to relax.

She went into the darkness.

"Bitch!"

At first, Maya thought she was dreaming. Or remembering. Sometimes the dreams and the memories got all twisted together.

Luckily, she didn’t dream much.

Just saw her blessed darkness.

"I’ll f**king kill you!" A man’s voice. Screaming with rage.

A loud crash sounded and a woman began to cry, harsh, gulping sobs.

Memory.

She’d hoped that being a vampire would have at least come with the perk of uninterrupted sleep.

In all the movies, Dracula climbed into his coffin, closed his eyes-and wham-the guy pretty much died until sunset.

Maya figured you didn’t have to battle nightmares and memories if you were dead during the day.

Unfortunately for her, a vampire’s day sleep was all too normal.

She couldn’t hide from her past while she slept.

Dammit.

" No, Chuck, don’t! I-I’m sorry!" A woman’s voice. Thick with a southern accent and shaking with fear.

What the hell? Maya’s eyes flew open.

Her mother didn’t have a southern accent. She’d been born and bred on the streets of L.A.

A thud shook the wall behind her, sending a tremble through the bed.

" No, please!"

"Fucking bitch!"

Breaking glass. A scream.

Not a dream.

Not a memory.

Maya jerked up in bed, glanced to the right. A faint imprint on the mattress was the only sign of Adam’s presence.

Where the hell had he gone? "You’ll be sorry for playin’ me, Rosie."

A whimper, barely discernable through the thin walls.

She grabbed her clothes. Jerked on the jeans and shirt, didn’t even bother with shoes. The ass**le was hurting the woman, and if she didn’t stop him-

A woman lying twisted on the floor. Mouth bloody. Bruises around her eyes-eyes that stared up at nothing.

Damn memories. She hated them.

She ran for the door, yanked it open, and immediately had her eyes flooded with blinding light.

Figured. The sun would still be high and she’d be weak as hell.

Another scream.

Maya pounded on room 206, slamming her fist hard against the door. "Open up!"

Silence.

Her fist thudded into the door. "I said," she snarled, "open this damn door!"