Dark Crime Page 16
"Maksim? What is going on beneath this city?"
Maksim shook his head. He had no idea. If that many vampires had gathered in one place, there should have been a bloodbath happening above ground. His head jerked up. "Above ground we are not seeing the crimes we should. But we have no idea what is happening below us. They could be taking their victims there."
"So we should be monitoring missing people as well. Homeless and prostitutes will be taken first. Anyone they know will not be reported missing right away," Tariq said. "They have infiltrated the police department."
Maksim nodded. "I examined as many as possible when I walked in there a couple of weeks ago and I smelled a few of them as 'dirty'--taking money from a crime boss. Vadim has to be that crime boss. He is acting human and building a human organization above ground to aid him. They do not know he is vampire. After witnessing what went on in that nightclub, I think he has police and officials through blackmail as well."
"The restraint it would take for him to pull something like this off is unbelievable."
"Gather as many hunters as possible. We will have to take this fight underground, and they will have the advantage," Maksim said.
"I will need at least two risings to prepare," Tariq said. "Mataias will have to go back in for information. We cannot go into a hornet's nest blind."
Maksim shook his head. Mataias would do it. Either of his brothers would as well, even though it was most likely a death sentence.
"So be it," he said quietly and grasped Tariq's forearms in the traditional manner of the Carpathian people. "Arwa-arvo olen isanta, ekam--honor keep you, my brother."
THIRTEEN
BLAZE WOKE TO the touch of fingers smoothing over her skin. Her lashes fluttered and she looked up to see the ceiling of the master bedroom in the house. The bed was a deep carved four-poster, very ornate and made of a dark, dense wood. The ceiling was high with a moon window directly over the bed. She could see the night sky and the small sliver of moon, a thin crescent valiantly trying to shine through the rolling clouds.
She breathed in, taking Maksim's scent deep into her lungs. At once hunger gnawed at her. Real. Terrible. She heard his heartbeat. Strong. Steady. His hands moved over her body, just a whisper. His touch light. Cravings grew. Her sex clenched. She felt damp heat gathering.
"Maksim," she whispered softly, her hand sliding into his wealth of hair. She loved his hair, all that soft thickness. Few men wore their hair long. Instead of making him look feminine, his hair seemed to accent his strong masculine features.
He lifted his head and his eyes met hers. Her breath caught in her throat. A million butterflies took flight in her stomach. He was beautiful. Breathtaking. Her entire body reacted to his, going soft, pliant. Inviting. Her lips parted. Her tongue touched her lower lip in a small sweep. His eyes followed the gesture. Her breasts rose and fell, and his gaze lowered intimately.
"How do you feel?" he asked, his hand once again skimming her body. Sliding over the curves of her breast down to her hip bone.
She felt his touch like a brand. When she'd opened her eyes, she'd felt the coolness of the evening; now she was hot. Inside hot. Outside hot.
"Hungry," she answered honestly. Her voice didn't sound in the least like her voice. She sounded sultry. Tempting. An invitation. She ran her tongue along her teeth. She could already taste him in her mouth. "For your blood. For your cock. I think I'm addicted to both." She craved him. Needed. The need was dark and obsessive and more than a little terrifying, but she was honest with him.
He smiled against her breast, his tongue flicking at her nipple. His touch was light, yet she felt every stroke down her belly to her groin, like streaks of fire. Little darts that struck true, igniting something wild already smoldering inside of her. Those little caresses of his tongue sent a brutal ache spiraling through her.
"Maksim." She whispered his name. "I need . . ." She broke off, wanting to ravage him. Wanting to roll him over, straddle him and take everything she needed. Her hands tightened on his arms in preparation.
"I know what you need," he replied. "I just have to make certain you are alive and well. The conversion was brutal."
She felt him move in her mind. Filling her with warmth. His presence. She hadn't realized until that moment that she'd felt lonely. He was there with her. She knew him. Knew his needs. Knew what he wanted, yet until he was there, present in her mind, drifting into all those places that held sorrow and memories she couldn't face alone, she hadn't known exactly what she needed or why.
He saw the child whose mother drifted away. The father that was her everything because there was only the two of them. Emeline. What she meant. The sister she'd never had. The love they shared. The secrets that made them so different from every other girl around them. He took that. Those burdens. He lifted them and made them his as well. Shared.
She felt the rise of emotion. Pure and strong. He was a man's man. Strong, not just physically, but in every other way. He accepted her for what she'd been shaped into from practically the time of her birth.
"You were already more Carpathian than human," he said softly, "yet you were all human. A strong psychic, but not one drop of Carpathian blood in you. Your lineage is strong, Blaze, and you came through the conversion with almost no problem. You make me proud."
He kissed his way up and over the curve of her breast to her throat. Her heart fluttered at his words, and her belly did a slow somersault. He ignited a fire in her that would never be put out, but there was that emotion as well, the one she never expected to feel for any man.
His mouth was on her neck. She felt the scrape of his teeth. Her sex clenched. Dripped. Hungered. Her hands caught in his hair as he lifted his head, his gaze moving over her face. She knew he could read her easily. The need there. The absolute desire. She could read it on his face. The lines were cut deep. Lust. Love. Hunger.
His mouth took hers and the light touch was gone. His lips were hard and demanding. She opened her mouth and let him pour himself inside, the way his mind had poured into hers. He tasted delicious. Perfect. She wanted to kiss him forever. Over and over. Hot. Commanding. Maksim had a way of kissing that transported her mind away from her body so she was all about feeling. Pure feeling. She lost whatever connection she had with her brain and just let him take her over. Let desire pour into her. Desire and hunger.
His mouth lifted from hers so that his lips whispered down her chin. Her throat. Lower to the swell of her breast. She couldn't stay still. Already electricity seemed to arc over her skin everywhere his mouth touched. Her breath came in ragged, desperate gasps. Her breasts swelled. Ached. She wrapped her arms around his head, lifting her own head to watch as his teeth scraped back and forth, sending those little darts of fire straight through her bloodstream to her most feminine core.
With just that, tension was building inside her. Coiling tighter and tighter. Her hips moved restlessly. He shifted position, his thigh over hers. She felt his cock. Hard. Hot. Hungry. She swore she could count every heartbeat there as he pressed against her inner thigh. She wanted. He was just out of reach and no matter how much she squirmed, there was no way to impale herself on him. No way to relieve the building tension and get relief.
His tongue swiped over the swell of her breasts. Swirled. A groan escaped before she could stop it. She fisted his hair, tugging him closer--as if he could get any closer.
"Please, Maksim." The urgency in her was beyond her comprehension. She knew she needed him desperately, and he had to do something. Right now.
His teeth sank deep. The bite of pain sent another spasm through her sex and then the feeling was purely erotic. Ecstasy. The bite sent her over the edge, the tidal wave taking her, engulfing her fast. The orgasm went on and on as his mouth pulled strongly and she felt the overwhelming pleasure in his mind. He was as addicted as she was. She could almost taste herself. His cock was harder than ever and leaked small, precious beads against her thigh that made her mouth water with her own hunger.
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br /> One of his hands shaped her left breast as he took her blood, sliding beneath it to cup the soft weight in his palm. His other hand slid lower. Just as her climax began to subside, his finger was there. Pressing in expertly.
Again, he demanded. I need that again.
He added another finger and then began to stroke and circle her hot little bud. Between his mouth and his hands working her body, he drove her up fast again. Taking her breath. Controlling her body. Her second orgasm swept over her so that she cried out, writhing beneath him, tightening her fists in his hair to anchor her. Already she was flying apart.
His tongue swept across the twin holes he'd made, and then his mouth covered the spot, suckling until she was marked. He kissed his way to her nipple and drew her breast into his mouth. That produced a streak of white-hot lightning sizzling through her body.
He rolled so that she sprawled on top, exactly where she wanted to be. She straddled him, pressing her hot, slick entrance over his hips as her hands ran up the defined muscles of his abdomen and chest. Hunger beat at her. Anticipation. His taste was there already, in her mouth, and she needed more.
She lapped at his skin, absorbing the way he felt with her tongue. She ran it over his muscles, tasting him. So strong. Physically beautiful. Her breath came in soft little pants and she couldn't stop herself from hurrying, although she wanted to explore. She just needed so much. There was no beating back the hunger. She actually felt the slide of her teeth, and her stomach rolled in a good way. It felt sexy. Erotic. Not at all as she expected it to feel. She leaned over him and he tugged the knot out of her hair, allowing it to tumble around her face and down her back, cascading over his skin as she pressed her mouth to the heavy muscle just above his heart.
That steady beat accelerated. His cock jerked. Kept beat. She swept her tongue across his skin. She didn't need his help when she thought she might. She wanted this. Just as she'd wanted to come into his world, she wanted to take what belonged to her without aid. Hers. He was hers. He always would be hers.
She found that strong pulse. Took it with a strong bite. Hers. He poured into her. His essence. Him. Maksim. Filling her in the way his mind filled hers. The exotic, masculine spice was amazing. An aphrodisiac that added to the growing hunger for him. Already, it was building and she shifted just a little, wanting him to fill her completely. Needing to be surrounded by him.
His hands moved over her back, down to her bottom, lifting her easily. She reached between them and found his gift, that strong, thick shaft, already pulsing with life. She squirmed, trying to impale herself, but he held her back.
Maksim.
Look at me.
She was busy. Her mouth took him into her. Her lungs breathed his air. Her mind accepted him into every dark corner so that he surrounded her. She lifted her lashes because he didn't move. She was strong willed, but she already recognized that Maksim had a hard, implacable edge to him and she wouldn't win if she came up against it. She lifted her lashes.
The look in his eyes burned through her. Ignited something wild and explosive in her. He looked exactly like what he was--a predator. He didn't bother to hide it, and she knew he was showing her what she was--and what she was to him.
His fingers dug deeper into the hard muscle of her hips. Holding her poised over him so she could feel the burning crown at her entrance. She could feel the intense heat and her body clutched emptily, desperate to be filled by him.
"This is not only because you are my lifemate. My miracle. A gift beyond all price to me. This is because I have fallen in love with you. Who you are. What you are. You need to know that."
She swept her tongue across the ruby red beads, instinctively closing the pinpricks and reached up to kiss him. He'd handed her the world. She felt the truth of his declaration spear through her straight to her soul. In accepting him, she knew she would never be alone and she would always have his loyalty and protection. She also knew he would accept her fully for who she was and not relegate her to the sidelines in a battle. More, she knew sex with him was off the charts. She hadn't expected--love.
Her mouth moved over his, her tongue sliding over his lips. He opened his mouth and let her tell him what that assertion meant to her. She'd never been particularly good at the woman thing. She hadn't been raised to be flirty or cute. She didn't know how to be. She hadn't been particularly attracted to anyone.
Maksim was different. Maksim was everything. He was all that she saw. Everything she needed or wanted. And he loved her. She kissed with everything she had and when he kissed her back, her body shuddered with pleasure, but it was her heart that turned over.
I love you, too, Maksim. You are my choice. Always. Because he was. She might not be able to say it aloud, but she could tell him telepathically and she knew that would be enough for him. He would know that she meant it, even before he'd tied them together, the moment she laid eyes on him--she'd known it was him or no one. She hadn't worked it out in her mind, but somewhere, in the back of her brain, the knowledge was there.
Maksim felt his heart swell. His cock did as well, which should have been impossible. He was already full and hard and pulsing with his need for her. He surged up as he pulled her down over him, impaling her, driving through scorching-hot, tight, silky folds. Her inner muscles gripped and squeezed, fighting his entrance, an exquisite torture that sent streaks of fire burning through both of them.
He rolled her under him, lifted her legs as he came up on his knees, not allowing a break in their connection as he pushed her legs over his shoulders. His fingers caught her hips again and he drove deep. Into paradise. She ignited as if he'd lit a match. He took her hard and rough, even though he felt soft and gentle inside. Even though she'd turned his insides into mush. Or maybe she'd just melted them.
He took her up fast, staring down into her face when she came for him. He loved that look--the burst of shock and surprise--and he always wanted to see it there. He moved in her, slamming deep, needing to be there. Surrounded by fire. By scorching silk. Squeezed, nearly strangled, yet coming as close to ecstasy as a man could get.
He watched her face, drinking her in, absorbing what she was feeling there in her mind. Taking her was such a gift, the way she gave him her body, her soul, and now her heart. She was amazing. Her body was amazing. He had it all and he knew it.
He took her up again, loving the ragged breathing, the dazed look in her eyes, the way her body went after his every time he pulled out. The shudder of pleasure each time he surged deep. He gave up everything but feeling, allowing her body to sweep him away until he had no control. Until he hammered into her, rough and hard and deep with every stroke.
"More," she breathed into his ear. More, she whispered into his mind.
He loved that, too. That she wanted him the same way he wanted her. He gave her more. He took more. He wrung two more orgasms out of her before he allowed himself the ultimate release, spilling into her, claiming her body for his own, triggering another hard quake in her.
He slowly lowered her legs to the mattress before collapsing over the top of her, burying his face in her neck. He loved the way she smelled now, with his scent all over her. He was too heavy for her, but he stayed where he was, pinning her soft body beneath his, his arms around her, locked inside of her, feeling every aftershock, every ripple. He began a slow glide. Gentle. Loving. Giving her that.
"I am going to roll us, but I want to stay inside you," he said against her pounding pulse. He wasn't ready to let her go yet. He was still hard. Impossible when he'd exploded with such force.
He tightened his arms around her and she circled him with her legs, keeping her body locked against his, just as reluctant to let him go. Maksim rolled so he was under her, Blaze on top, straddling him. Her breasts were pressed against his chest, her nipples hard little pinpoints, her breasts soft, her body pure heaven. He swept his hands down her back, shaping her, memorizing the feel of her. He loved her tucked-in waist and the way her hips flared out. Her skin was sati
n soft. Her bright red hair, tumbling around him like a fiery waterfall, falling on his chest and shoulders, so beautiful she robbed him of his ability to breathe.
Blaze pushed up slowly, sitting over his lap, her legs pressed on either side of him, her breasts swaying as he continued to glide gently in her. His hands went to her waist, holding her on him. He watched her. Her face. Her body. All his. He'd gone from an unrelenting gray void to this--the colors that would forever shape his life. The beauty she gave him.
"We have discovered that we are dealing with far more than we expected," he shared, watching her small white teeth bite down as she threw her head back. One hand stretched behind her to rest on his thigh. She looked more beautiful than ever.
Blaze made a small sound, as if she couldn't quite speak. Her moan was low and heated. He loved that she couldn't. That what he was doing to her was keeping her right on the edge.
"We are still mapping out the labyrinth beneath the city. The head vampire is extremely dangerous. He will have layers of protection and that means he has created an army both human and of the undead. We do not know what he is up to and we need to find out. Until we do, sufletul meu, I want you to stay hidden and very close to Emeline. She is in great danger. We think the vampires were trying to acquire both of you, but in particular, her. Vadim Malinov should have sent lesser vampires against us, but he sent one master and came himself as well. You do not ever expose your hand like that, put one of your most valuable pieces in harm's way along with exposing yourself to your enemies unless the end result is worth it."
He couldn't help himself. He was having a bit of trouble concentrating. Fire was beginning to streak from her scorching-hot core, right through his groin, up to his chest and down his thighs. She moved now, finding her own rhythm and riding him slow. The burn was back, hotter than ever and he found that slow, leisurely pace was beginning to do things to his control.
His hands tightened on her waist. "I am trying to tell you something important, Blaze," he bit out between his clenched teeth, because suddenly nothing seemed as important as the heat in his groin. That silken sheath gripping and milking. He was already as hard as a rock, harder even, a steel spike, wide and thick, surging upward to meet her downward spiral.