Never Cry Wolf (Night Watch #4)(46)
Author: Cynthia Eden

“She’s also the woman who saved your life.” The sheet seemed cool against her flesh. Lucas’s touch had been red-hot. “When she calls me, I’ll pay my debt.”

“No matter what? Marie’s a woman used to the shadows. Life and death . . .” A rough laugh broke from him. “They don’t always have meaning for her.”

She stared at him. Bright eyes. Strong body. Alive. “They do for me.”

The mattress dipped beneath his weight as he closed in on her. His hands came down on either side of Sarah, caging her. “You’ve been keeping secrets, sweet Sarah.”

Oh, crap, this was it. “Lucas . . .”

His lips brushed hers, stealing her breath. She wanted to press into him. To take his mouth, to take the pleasure.

But he’d already pulled away. “How many lies have you told me?”

The warmth chased from her skin. “I’ve told you the truth about myself. I’m a charmer, just like I said, I’m—”

“Fuck.” Bit off. His eyes glittered at her. “Right now I don’t give a shit what you are or who you work for.” His hands caught her shoulders. “I should . . . but now, I just want you.” Then his mouth took hers, hard and deep, the way she’d wanted.

Sarah gasped into his mouth, her heart thundering. Her tongue met his and the need, that reckless want built in her. A fierce desire to match his.

They were both already naked. The sheet was a thin barrier, one that he yanked out of the way, then his hot flesh was on hers. Strong, muscled. She wanted to touch him, wanted to make certain he was alive and safe—

But he pushed her back, easing her down onto the mattress. His mouth tore from hers and he licked his way down her throat.

He’d almost died.

He bit her collarbone. A light nip. “That bastard was gunning for us both.” His tongue caressed her wound. His hands traced down her body. Lucas’s fingers cupped her br**sts, made the ni**les ache for his touch. His tongue.

“The last thing I saw . . .” Now his mouth was near her breast, and his breath feathered over the sensitive flesh. “Was you.”

Her hands caught his shoulders. Her nails dug into the skin. “You were leaving me.” The accusation slipped from her.

He pushed her legs apart. Settled his hips against her. “No damn chance.”

He took her breast into his mouth. Sucked and licked and the need heated her blood.

“You . . . ah, Lucas!” She was wet for him, already. And he was hard for her. The length of his c**k pushed against her sex, not entering her, not yet. “You . . . scared me.” An admission that cost her, but the words were true. When he’d been slipping away, she’d been terrified. Not because her protector was gone. Not because she’d have to face Rafe alone. But because I was losing Lucas.

He pressed a hot kiss to the curve of her belly. “I heard you.” He glanced up at her, his dark hair tousled, lines of lust etched on his face. Lust and . . . fury? “I heard you calling me in hell.”

His fingers curled over her thighs. “Don’t worry. I’m not leaving you.”

Then he put his mouth on her sex. His tongue brushed over her folds, tasted her, then drove deep. Sarah’s body jolted as pleasure flooded through her. His thumb pressed on her clit, thrumming the nub, and she buried her fingers in his thick hair. “Lucas!”

He didn’t ease up. Just kept taking and stroking and—oh, damn his tongue—she came against his mouth.

He licked her while she came. Then he rose above her. His eyes watched her every move.

One thrust sent him balls-deep into her. The ripples from her climax still shivered through her and her sex squeezed him.

Then he withdrew. Drove deep. She wrapped her legs around him and let her nails sink into his skin.

Her hips arched toward him. Faster, faster. Harder. His gaze burned into hers. Strength and fury. Life. Not the cold whisper of death she’d felt in the dark hours of night.

Life.

Lucas.

The climax hit her, stealing her breath, and Sarah opened her mouth to scream. Lucas kissed her, thrusting his tongue into her mouth just as he plunged into her body. He erupted inside of her, his body shuddering against hers. She held him as tight as she could with arms, hands, and legs, not wanting to let him go. Not wanting the pleasure to end.

The rasps of their breath filled the air. His heartbeat drummed against her, and the beat as fast and wild as her own. After a moment, his head lifted slowly, and he stared down at her with a gaze she couldn’t read.

Sarah licked her lips and tasted him. “Lucas . . .”

“Are you FBI?”

Not the sweet, after-sex words she’d hoped to hear.

He withdrew from her body, a long, sensual glide of flesh that had aftershocks trembling through her.

“Are you FBI, Sarah?”

No way this was going to end well. Naked, sated, she stared up at Lucas and gave him the truth. “I was.”

Marie Dusean stared out of her window, watching the sun rise over the sky, its fingers already like blood on the day. Her body ached. Too many years. Too many lost lives. Too many souls that called to her.

She stared at the sun and knew what would come for her. But it was okay. Marie feared no man. She didn’t fear Death, either. Why fear what you controlled?

But she would regret. She would miss.

Belle fille. She’d miss the girl so.

Her guards were leaving. Drifting away with the daylight. What was the point in them staying? More bloodshed? No. Enough of hers had died already. She wouldn’t lose more souls.

She stared at the sun and waited.

“Fuck.” Lucas rolled out of the bed. He stalked forward and grabbed a pair of jeans. “You were playing me. You think I don’t know about the Feds and their damn extermination list?” He shook his head. “I’ve been on that list since I was sixteen.”

“You’re not on the list anymore.” She could give him that, at least.

He whirled on her.

Okay, maybe that hadn’t been the right thing to say.

“You were sent to take down the wolves.” Not a question. His hands clenched into fists. The jeans hung low on his hips. His body tightened with fury. “That bastard was right, you were sent—”

“A year ago, we found the first body.” She wouldn’t talk about death and hell while she was naked. Sarah didn’t know where her clothes were or who’d taken them, so she rose from the bed slowly, trying to hide the quiver in her knees. Her body still ached from the sex, but she wouldn’t show that, either. She grabbed the sheet, wrapped it around her, toga-style, then faced him.