Blood Hunt (34 page)

 

Hope was as beautiful inside as she was out. Being inside her mind was like Logan imagined bathing in sunshine would be. Warm. Soft. Gentle. He could live here forever and never grow bored.

He slid along her thoughts with ease, but it was different from being inside a human. The connection he felt to her was stronger and took less effort to sustain. There were no convoluted paths of logic he had to overcome, or flittering distractions that led him in the wrong direction. With Hope, sharing the same mental space was easy.

Perhaps this was what it felt like when mated Theronai connected.

Before that thought could bloom into something dangerous, Logan pushed forward, heading right to where her amnesia began.

“Show me this soft spot,” he whispered to her, though whether his mouth moved, he wasn’t sure.

Hope wrapped around his consciousness to guide him, and the instant she did, everything else ceased to exist. He was surrounded by light and joy, bathed in it. Time no longer mattered. His body could have shriveled and died and he would not have mourned the loss. This place or feeling—whatever it was—was magic, pure, perfect magic.

“Did you feel that?” she asked him. Her voice swept through him, shimmering along his nerve endings as it passed.

“Yes,” was all he could manage.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never felt it before with anyone.”

“Stay close. It could be some kind of trick, like a booby trap.”

Confusion flittered across him for a brief second. “What makes you say that?”

“Because nothing that feels that good can be real. It must be some kind of trick.”

Logan questioned her logic, but kept it to himself. “I’ll be careful. Show me.”

Hope guided him along her thoughts, taking him with her on the chain of logic that had led her to the soft spot.

There. He sensed what she’d felt earlier—a kind of dent in an otherwise pristine plane of do-not-pass.

“This wasn’t there before,” he said.

“It happened when I thought about how I might have allowed someone to take my memories. I can’t imagine ever letting that happen, but this seems to be proof that I might have.”

Logan prodded the spot and instantly felt a stab of pain vibrate through Hope. He pulled back, fighting against an instant flare of anger at himself. “Are you hurt?”

He was still connected to her mind, but his eyes opened so he could scan her body as well. She’d pulled her knees up as if someone had punched her in the stomach.

“That’s just a tender spot, I guess.”

“I won’t touch it again.”

“No. I want you to. I want you to see if this is a way into my memories.”

The idea of causing her more pain repulsed him. She must have felt it, because in the next instant, she was stroking over his consciousness as if to comfort him.

“Please, Logan. I don’t care if it hurts. I need to know what I did to cause these people harm.”

“You did nothing.”

“You don’t know that. Maybe I didn’t do it on purpose. Maybe this is all about someone I know who’s holding a grudge—someone I can’t remember.”

She could be right. If she recognized Krag, it could create another soft spot, or perhaps break through the one she’d found.

He took the image from Leonard’s mind—the one of the Synestryn lord with scaly, hairless skin and lips that did not cover his pointed teeth—and showed it to Hope.

She recoiled in revulsion, but there was no flash of recognition he could sense. “Have you seen him before?”

“No. What is he?”

“Synestryn. He’s the beast who ordered Leonard to hurt you, to abduct Jodi.”

He felt her take the image deeper, dragging it inside her mind where she turned it over and ran it along the barrier to her past. There was no reaction, no dent formed.

Her sense of defeat hit him hard. His immediate reaction was to wipe it away—to blunt the emotion artificially, but he doubted she’d appreciate his help. Instead, he wrapped himself around her and offered her what reassurance he could.

“We’ll find a way to get back what you’ve lost. I promise.” The weight that settled over him as he gave his vow wasn’t heavy. It was comforting. Given freely, without any thought of repayment, it reminded him of the man he used to be—the one he wished he could be again.

That man would have been good enough for a woman like Hope.

“I like the man you are now,” she told him, her words fervent and heartfelt. “The fact that you wish you could do more counts for a lot.”

“Not nearly enough. My weakness is shameful.”

He felt her hand on his skin and pulled back into his body enough to revel in her touch. Until now, he hadn’t realized he’d draped his body over hers at some point in his effort to comfort her. His arms were wrapped around her tightly, and her legs were hanging from the sides of the lounge chair to allow room for his body between her thighs.

Instantly, his cock swelled and hardened, painful in its haste to be ready for her. Pressed against her belly like this, there was no way to mask her effect on him—no way to hide his desire for her.

Her golden eyes glowed with womanly need. “You aren’t weak. It’s not your fault that you don’t have the strength to do what you want. Except when you take my blood.”

The mere mention made his mouth water and his hips kick forward against his will. The smell of her skin was intoxicating, but it was the scent of her growing arousal that pushed him to the limit of control.

She tilted her head aside, stretching her elegant neck, tempting him. “You can do it again if you want. I like it. A lot.”

Logan’s body clenched, his muscles knotted against the need for him to hold perfectly still. If he so much as breathed, he knew his self-control would give in and he’d take what she offered. “I cannot.”

“I feel fine. You’re not as hard on me as you think.” She reached between their bodies and rubbed her palm over his erection. “Except here.”

He pulled in a deep breath, hoping it would cool down the inferno raging inside him. She was so beautiful laid out like this, open and trusting. Her skin glowed in the dim light and the gold of her eyes seemed to brighten as they moved to his mouth.

She was going to kiss him. He could feel her muscles tensing to move, to lift her head forward toward his. Her lips parted and she pulled in the air that he breathed out. Heat swirled between them. He could feel it fighting back the chill surrounding them. Her pupils dilated and her tongue swept out to wet her bottom lip.

He needed to get up—to push himself away from her. He gathered his power to shove himself back, not caring if he slammed into the rotting barn wall. He’d take an injury over betraying her.

And if he took her, it would be a betrayal. She didn’t realize that now, but once she was settled with the man meant for her, she’d see that he’d used her for his pleasure, that he knew there could never be anything more between them than a few shared moments of physical bliss.

But after so many years of famine, he wanted the feast. He wanted to feel the slide of skin on skin, the damp heat of shivering lust as it overtook a woman. He wanted to hear her soft moans of pleasure and strive to make them louder. But most of all, he wanted to find a way to be closer to her, to make her feel good. Safe. Loved.

He could love a woman like Hope. Part of him already did, which was all the more reason to hold himself back.

She wrapped her hand around his nape and pulled him down, meeting him halfway. The touch of her lips to his was electric. Every rational thought in his head shorted out and in that space was the ravenous need to possess something he so desperately wanted.

Her tongue swept inside his mouth, playing along his teeth until she found one of his fangs. Her sigh of need filled his lungs, and he drank it in, greedy for more. His stomach tightened and his cock jerked against her belly, desperate to be closer.

He was lost, and while part of him screamed in defiance at his weakness, the rest of him was cheering in a roaring scream of encouragement.

Logan ripped the leather coat from between their bodies and kissed Hope back like she deserved. He shoved her shirt up and caressed the smooth skin over her stomach and ribs. She pushed him up, using more strength than he would have thought possible.

Not that he’d let her shove him away now. Not anymore.

He pulled his mouth from hers to tell her it was too late to change her mind, but from the flush of desire painting her cheeks, that wasn’t what she had in mind. Instead, she stripped her shirt over her head and shed her bra, baring herself to him. Her eyes dared him to stop her from getting what she wanted.

Logan stared down at her, reveling in her beauty. She was exquisitely formed, perfectly curved. Her dream self did not do her justice. Her nipples were hard and cherry red. A pink flush spread down her neck over her chest. As he watched, she reached for the button on her jeans.

“We’re doing this,” she warned him, her tone fierce and demanding.

He wasn’t sure if he found her assumption more amusing or alluring. Either way, he was along for the ride. He could barely speak, but he managed to push out a rough, “As you wish.”

Her smile of approval drove the breath from his body with the sheer power of her beauty. To possess something as perfect and potent as she was seemed too good to be true. His actions didn’t merit such a reward and yet he was going to take it, nonetheless.

Her hands slid up his ribs, shoving his shirt up as they went. He stripped the fabric from his body, not wanting anything to get in the way of her touch.

Her nails dug into his skin, scraping just hard enough to send a shiver up his spine.

“The jeans,” she ordered.

He obliged, stripping hers off before seeing to his own.

She lounged, one leg dangling over the side of the chair. The slim lines of her body had a perfectness of symmetry he’d never seen before in a human. Her hips flared just enough to fit his hands, before tapering to long, smooth legs. Faint tan lines marked her skin, and he stroked a finger over them, intrigued by the marks the sun had left upon her.

What he wouldn’t give to lie in the sun with her and make love, drinking in its warmth.

It was a fantasy that could never be, but he found himself hoping despite all logic. After all, if Hope was here, sharing her body with him, then anything seemed possible.

He tossed another cushion onto the floor and draped his coat across it to form their bed. “If I take you on that flimsy thing, we’re both going to end up on the ground, anyway.”

She lifted a brow in challenge. “Take me? That sounds awfully barbaric.”

“It fits my mood, then.”

She rose from the chair, naked and glorious. She didn’t try to hide from his sight, or strike any artificial poses. She needed no such artifice. Hope was perfect as she was.

He took her hand and eased her to the cushion, ensuring her comfort before he perched along the edge. A chill roughened her arms, and before he considered the consequences, he rolled atop her to cover her body with his.

The skin on skin contact was too much sensation. It stole his breath and made his heart pound in his chest. His head spun at the feel of her hard little nipples and the slide of her legs along his own.

She speared her fingers through his hair and brought his head down for a kiss.

He’d meant to be gentle. Slow and careful. But as soon as her lips touched his, thoughts vanished. The man in him gave way to the more feral part of him—the baser part of him. A sweet wooing was no longer an option. He needed her. He needed to be inside her and drive as much pleasure from her body as she could stand. He needed to fill her up and claim her for his own so no other man would ever dare to touch her. Only him.

The thought gave him pause, but he brushed it aside, refusing to let anything come in the way of what she offered.

Logan pulled his mouth from hers. She tried to follow him up, but he had other ideas, other needs. He laid his hand across the center of her collarbone to hold her still while he kissed his way from her shoulder down to her breast. He took her nipple into his mouth, dragging his fangs across it in a way that made her gasp and lift toward him.

“Yes,” she hissed out, grabbing and holding his head in place. “Just like that.”

Logan suckled her hard, then eased up, swirling his tongue over her to ease away the sting. Every time his teeth grazed her, her body tightened in anticipation.

He knew what she wanted. He could feel her need shimmering between them. She wanted his bite and the pleasure it could bring.

He refused. He’d already lost enough of himself coming this far. If he went any farther, he might never be able to return. And she would be the one who suffered—something he simply could not allow.

Her fingernails bit into his scalp. She slid her ankle up his flank, wrapping her leg around the small of his back. The move opened her so that his manhood nudged the wet heat of her core. And then she started pulling, using her leg to urge him closer.

Against his will, his hips shifted, gliding the slippery tip of his cock along her folds. There was still time to turn back. Somewhere deep in his mind, part of him was screaming for him to stop this before it was too late.

She reached between them and wrapped her fingers around him, giving him a long, hard stroke. Her fingers slid over him, lining up their bodies. One hard tug from her leg and he slid a couple of inches inside her core.

There was no place he wanted to be more than right here, right now. Despite his reservations, the perfection of the two of them like this, joining together, was simply too much to deny.

Hope held her breath and became still. He reached out for her, searching for signs of pain. He brushed against her mind, intending only to seek out what was causing her distress, and too late realized the folly of that plan.