Black Desire (11 page)

Tristan's masculine
hands were spread on either side of her hips as he pounded away as only he
could do. Skin against skin, the sounds of frantic, wild sex. She arched her
back and pushed against his slim, muscular hips. More cock. More Tristan.
Deeper. She moved her ass until she took him all, right to the hilt. God, it
felt so good to have Tristan stretch her pussy while Devlin stretched her
mouth. She writhed and moaned.
Yes, more,
Tristan.

The cock disappeared from
her mouth.

"What in the
hell?" Devlin growled.

The yellow haze dissipated
from her vision. She glanced behind her. Tristan was not there and he had never
been there. She turned back and saw the naked, angry man standing in front her,
saliva dripping off his huge erection. What had she done?

"How dare you
bring him in here?" he growled. "I will not share a woman with him!"

Her mouth went dry.
What did he mean? "He…wasn't here?"

Devlin reached down
to the plush carpet, picked up her dress and tossed it to her. She quickly put
it on over her head, anything to cover her embarrassment.
 

"You spoke his
name aloud, so I looked into your thoughts. And there he was, fucking you from
behind. I won't have it."

"You can see
into my thoughts? How...how
dare
you?"
she sputtered.

Devlin pulled his
slacks over his muscular hips. "As I told you, a Thrope has many talents.
When someone is aroused we can sense and read certain thoughts. It was how I
read Black's that night in the bar on the dance floor. And yours."

"You forced
me—to suck on—oh my God." Katrina's hands flew to her cheeks in horror.
"You hypnotized me! Or drugged me, all I could see was yellow."

"We cannot force
anyone to do anything they were not considering themselves in some dark corner
of their mind. You wanted to suck my cock, or you never would have done it. Tell
Tristan Black that. Or maybe I will. You are quite good at it. Sure you don't
want to finish the job?" he sneered.
 
"I brought your deepest desires to the forefront. Little did I know
Black was part of a ménage fantasy. I should have guessed. You reek of him and
you wear his mark."

Her cheeks flushed in
embarrassment. She didn't go around giving blowjobs to virtual strangers. What
did the mark mean? Damn these men! They were dicks, literally!

"You put me in
some sort of trance, all I could see was yellow," she pouted.

Devlin pulled the
Polo top over his head. "It is a state of relaxation, I told you. I can't
control your mind. I did not force you to do anything. We often put our sex
partners in this state or they would never survive the act itself. I told you
sex can last hours. There can be no interruption." He leaned in close, his
lip curled. "Are you certain you don't want to take a walk on the wild
side? Deep down, you are game. You know it."

"Even if I was
attracted to you on some level, I would never act on it. Not any further than I
have already," Katrina snapped.

Devlin shrugged.
"Fine. Whatever. Be in denial. Get some sleep. I call Black in four hours.
He will want to talk to you. I will come and awaken you then."

Steele walked out and
locked her in once again. She dove into the bed, cuddled deep, and pulled the
blankets up to her neck. Shivering under the covers, Katrina realized Steele
spoke the truth. Her participation in the so-called ménage was of her own
volition. Shame and stark arousal flooded her emotions. The proof of her
deepest desire brought to the forefront was a little unsettling.
Creatures of the Shadow World.
Hot, sexy
beast men. She never really read paranormal romances before. Apparently she was
missing out on something. One thing she would rectify if she ever got out of
this mess, she thought with fleeting amusement.

And what of Tristan
Black, the half-Vampire hunk? She should be livid at him for putting her in the
middle of some creature feature. All she wanted was for him to get her out of
here. She wanted to feel Tristan's arms pulling her close to his hard, muscular
body in affection and protection. She wanted him to cup her face tenderly and
kiss her until her toes curled.

How could she feel
this way about a man she just met? But she did, and it hit her hard, the
realization she was falling in love with him. Totally, completely, as deep in
love as one can get and she didn't know what in hell to do about it.

****

When the phone rang a
little before six in the morning, Tristan answered it on the first ring.

“Put her on the
phone, now!”

“Tristan?” Her deep,
husky, smoky voice sounded unsure, weary and maybe a little frightened.

“Sweeting, are you
alright?” God, just the sound of her voice had his heart soaring. If that wretched
wolf touched her in any way he would tear him to shreds.

“Yes,
I am okay, but when…”

Her voice was cut
off, and Devlin Steele spoke. “Enough, you will be reunited soon. Has your
father agreed?”

Tristan fought to
control his temper. “Yes. He agreed. He is deep in slumber now.”

“When is he
available? I want it done as soon as possible.”

“Late afternoon,
about four o'clock,” Tristan growled.

“Then I will give you
directions to my compound. Just you and your father, no one else. Double cross
me, and your woman will cease to breathe. Understand?”

Tristan listened to
the directions then slammed the phone back in its cradle. He was tempted to rip
the landline from its socket and throw it against the wall until it smashed
into pieces. He would have no phones left at this rate. His anger was stoked
beyond all reasoning. No one put his mate in harm’s way.

He looked out the
picture window. When did he begin to think of her as his mate? God, how could
he make this up to her? Would she ever forgive him, accept him and love him? Vampires,
and Dhampyres for that matter, for all their self-confidence, strength and
menace, were compacted into dedicated, romantic and loving mates to their
desired partners. He could sense it, feelings he had not had since Georgiana’s
death. He knew what the emotions were, the overwhelming need to protect her and
fuck her all at the same time. He clenched and unclenched his fists. Tristan couldn’t
deny these feelings or hide them, because that was not a Vampire’s way. When
they chose their mate and when there was mutual, verbal acceptance, they stayed
bound and faithful until the end of one of their existences. He felt all that
for Katrina, in only a matter of days. Not even for Georgiana did he feel such
depths so quickly. His father explained it was different with every mate. In
the eight hundred years of Deegan’s existence, he’d had six mates and the
intensity was different for all of them. One surprising fact, they were all
human and he did not turn any of them. He would not elaborate if he had offered
or not.

Tristan walked to the
bar and poured himself a Hennessey and took a seat by the stone fireplace. He
laid back his head and closed his eyes. For some reason, Raynor’s Dhampyre
daughter entered his mind. Raylene was almost as old as himself. Funny he never
looked her direction. She at least was the same as him, half-Vampire. Granted,
they were second or third cousins, but that did not matter to the Clan. Perhaps
it was the look of longing he had seen in her eyes since she was old enough to
have such thoughts, a look she only had when his father Deegan was present. His
father never let on he even noticed. Now decades later, he still detected it when
Raylene thought no one was watching. Actually, she would be a good match for
his father. She was quite lovely, tall and svelte but shapely with Raynor’s
golden brown hair and exquisite blue eyes. She was strong and capable. Tough
even. She could stand up to his father and his overwhelming personality.

He took a swig of his
amber ambrosia and let it burn down his throat. His father was not stupid; he
would have sensed Raylene’s intense emotions. So why—he opened his eyes with a
sudden clarity. The Concealment, of course, could manifest itself in Raylene
and her brother Julian. Was that the reason? Or perhaps his father preferred
humans as he did. A question to ask when they got around to that frank talk his
father promised. In the meantime, it would be very easy to sit here and brood
and drink himself into oblivion waiting for his father to rise from his undead
slumber. Though with his Vampire blood, it would take a couple bottles of
Hennessey before he even felt a buzz. He supposed he should eat. Since Katrina
had been taken, he had eaten little and slept less. Not that he needed much
food anyway, one large meal a day. A Vampire needed even less. They could go a
few days without food but they needed blood almost every day. Luckily, he did
not.

He downed the rest of
his drink and stood. Becoming a proficient cook over the decades was inevitable,
though Brennan sometimes prepared meals for him. But right now some scrambled
eggs with shredded havarti and green onions would be enough. A sudden desire to
cook for Katrina and show her other things he had learned over the decades
filled his thoughts. Tristan inhaled deeply. She was there with him. Her
essence and evocative scent covered him in a sensual comfort.
 
It would be with him always, until his heart
ceased to beat.

****

The day could not
have dragged any longer for Katrina. She was forced to endure Devlin Steele’s
company over brunch. The food she had to admit was delicious. Her ravenous
appetite didn't allow for thoughts of self-pity or fright.
 
Blueberry pancakes, a mushroom cheese omelet,
bacon, and fresh fruit washed down with English breakfast tea made up her feast.

Devlin Steele was the
personification of elegance in his dress and carriage, even in the way he ate.
He did not tell her what he wanted Tristan to do, only that he would be
arriving before six that evening. She met his younger brother Marcus, who was
also incredibly handsome, almost too beautiful to be a male. He had black hair,
sky blue eyes and golden skin, quite a contrast to Devlin’s brown haired, pale
handsomeness. He explained they had different mothers. She saw a few women in
residence but they stayed in the background. And they were obviously pregnant.
He kept referring to his home as “The Compound.” What was this, some kind of
cult? It was obvious he was the head wolf or whatever.

Last night’s ménage
fantasy episode seemed forgotten. He treated her politely as an honored guest.
The last forty-eight hours were the strangest in her life. She hadn’t forgotten
any of it because she was mortified. She had a strange man’s cock in her mouth
and she liked it. No, that wasn’t exactly true. She liked the thought of
Tristan behind her more than anything. God, best to forget it. She still wasn’t
convinced that he didn’t drug her or put her in a trance. Though Devlin Steele
spoke the truth about one point. She had been aware what was going on and fully
engaged of her own free will. What to tell Tristan?

If they were to have
any kind of relationship once out of this mess, she would have to tell him what
happened. Katrina had the feeling he would not take it well.

After brunch, Devlin
took her back up to her room so she could shower and have a nap. When he came
to get her shortly after six p.m., she felt quite rested. For a moment she
forgot she was a kidnap victim, but the stark reality of her situation rushed
back. Katrina was held against her will and it angered her afresh. Along with
the resentment came a nagging fear. Straightening her shoulders, she vowed not
to show her feelings. Tristan would handle everything.

Devlin brought her
downstairs to a large empty room. His younger brother Marcus was there as was
Tristan with another man. All her anger, fear and frustration dissipated when
she saw how worried Tristan looked. Katrina ran to him and threw herself into
his arms. Damn everything, she had to feel those muscular arms about her. He
embraced her tightly and laid passionate kisses on her cheeks and jawline. He
cupped her face and stepped back. Such love and tenderness radiated in his
eyes, she wanted to weep.

“You are untouched? He
did not force you to do anything against your will?” he questioned, looking
deep into her eyes.

“No. Nothing. I'm
fine. Oh thank God, you came.”

Regardless of who was
in the room, he didn’t seem to care for he leaned down and gave her such a deep,
hot, devastating kiss she was soon moaning.

A deep voice broke
through her haze of passion. “Son? Can you continue this later, perhaps? Let us
tend to the business at hand and be gone from here.”

Tristan released her.
“Katrina, my father, Deegan Black.”

She turned her gaze
to an astounding looking man. Only a couple of inches shorter than Tristan, he
stood about 6’2”. He had the same lean, muscular body as Tristan. His coloring
was paler, his hair very dark, but he had the same silver-gray eyes. Tristan
must have received his hair color and darker skin tone from his mother. Lord,
Deegan Black was gorgeous. His father reached for her hand and kissed it, giving
her such a devastating smile she could feel her knees turn to jelly. Like
father, like son. They both oozed sex. They could pass for brothers or maybe
cousins, not father and son. So this was his Vampire father. She was a little
dazed when he released her hand and stepped away.