Evading (Regent Vampire Lords Book 4) (8 page)

BOOK: Evading (Regent Vampire Lords Book 4)
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Shit.

He worked himself in and out, taking his time, trying not come prematurely like some sixteen-year-old feeling virgin pussy for the first time, but Christ. He couldn’t deny that’s what she felt like.

Once he was seated to the hilt, bottomed out, he let himself take in a deep, calming breath. Smoothing the sweaty hair from around her face, he managed to choke out, “You okay?”

Her walls clamped around him and he groaned so damn loud. He wasn’t going to make it. He was going to lose it right here, right now. She felt so…shit, mind blowing.

“Yes.” She nodded frantically. “Please move. Please. It feels so good. So good.”

He did then.

He withdrew and rammed himself back inside, all thoughts of lazy and slow now gone. All finesse forgotten. But who gave a fuck. Nothing had ever felt this good. Nothing ever would.

Pulling out again, he felt every ridge of her silky walls work against his rigid, veiny cock driving them up together. It wouldn’t be long. He wasn’t going to last and neither was she if the harsh breaths in his ear and the scores she was laying down his back were any indication.

He’d been with plenty of women, but it’s as if he’d been perpetually thirsty, always parched. With Giselle, he was quenched, filled. A lifetime of famine was coming to an end as his balls drew up tight and the base of his spine tingled with that familiar itch. He tried to hold back. He really did. “Fuck, Giselle, I’m going to come.”

“I’m so close,” she murmured. “Please.”

With Herculean effort, he held his own climax back to take care of his woman. Gripping under Giselle’s knees, he rose and pounded into her like a man lost and found. When her pussy clenched down like a vice grip around his dick and his name fell in a litany of prayers from her lips, only then did he let himself go.

“Now, Giselle,” he groaned.

But before he’d even finished his petition, her mouth was at his neck. Her fangs were buried in his vein. His blood was running down her throat. His body and soul came alive. Pure fucking euphoria bled hot and fast through him.

He came. Hard.

Mike threw his head back and roared. He emptied a lifetime of loneliness and longing and love into the female he would call his until the moment he took his last breath.

As he eased over Giselle, their sweaty, replete bodies sticking together and their words of love echoing in each other’s ears, he realized something. He was content. And it wasn’t because of a vampire’s bite or the massive amounts of dopamine pumping him up. It was because of the woman currently wrapped up in him like duct tape. It was because he was finally where he was supposed to be.

Mike had lived with regret his entire adult life. Fucking truckloads of it. It was a thick shackle clamped resolutely to his waist and, along with revenge, it was the one thing he never wanted to shuck. It was his burden to carry. He’d lived the last eleven years in sick, infected, willing martyrdom.

Except now, both of those feelings were gone. No longer filled with hate and self-loathing, he felt blessedly light and free. Unencumbered.

Yes, from the outside looking in, he and Giselle were unconventional. But his entire life had been, so why not this too? He still didn’t completely trust the rest of the bloodsuckers, but he ultimately realized evil was born, not bred.

Humans, vampires, animals. They all had bad seeds, but that didn’t make the whole lot bad. So while he wouldn’t have willingly chosen this path because up until only moments ago he had been weighed down with two tons of isolation and anger, he had no regrets whatsoever at the unexpected and crazy turn his life had taken.

Giselle purred contentedly into his chest, rousing an insatiable beast. Growing hard again, he grabbed her by the waist and draped her over him. Mouths welded together, without preamble, he slid inside her scorching heat once again.

No. Mike had no regrets.

Except…maybe one.

10

Giselle

V
ampires didn’t need sleep
. Not really. Maybe an hour or two every night to stay refreshed, but they could really go weeks without any and still be highly functioning.

That was one small favor for her kind, for her in particular. Giselle always hated to sleep. Sleep came with dreams and dreams in her case really meant horrific, realistic nightmares. So usually, she’d go as long as she could without nodding off. Once she went a record eighty-nine days. She was practically delirious, mindless with the need to recharge, but that had been in the early days after Dev saved her.

In those days, even the simple act of blinking brought scenes of rape, breaths of torture, echoes of sobs.

The carnage she’d brought upon her tormentors may have freed her body, but it hadn’t released the demons that plagued her in the slightest. She’d believed the slaying of their souls, the stain of their sins would quell the interminable screaming trapped in her head. It hadn’t. So she’d refused sleep until Ren actually forced her down through utter exhaustion.

He must have known she teetered on the edge, ready to crumble any second, yet he never suggested she sleep. It would be pointless. Instead, he worked her harder the day she was ready to drop than he ever had before. Fourteen solid, nonstop hours.

First came sprints, for hours, followed by a grueling weight lifting session before heading to the martial arts studio for kickboxing, Wing Chun, Aikido, Jiu-jitsu, Keysi, Krav Maga. You name it. They did it. In between sets was yoga to relax her muscles, meditation to focus her mind, and implement training to hone her already deadly skills.

He worked her until she broke. Physically and mentally. Then he held her as she sobbed and sobbed until she couldn’t keep her eyes open another second. She slept for ten solid hours and when she woke, she was still in his arms. He’d stayed with her, protected her.

They never spoke of that day. Not then. Not ever. The only thing he said before he left her room was, “I won’t let them have you, so we’ll do this as often as you need until you get that.”

She’d never needed to be broken like that again, but for that first year she’d push herself to the edge of her limits and when she crashed, Ren somehow knew. And he was there. Could be that his room was next to hers and he heard her screams of terror. Could be the kinship they shared she could never quite explain. Whatever the reason, he knew she needed him and he was always, always there for her. She would fall into a fitful sleep alone; she always woke with him cradling her like a child. Then, when she was fully coherent, he would rise and silently walk away. And they would both ignore it when they saw each other later.

Then one day it stopped.

The nightmares faded.

The suffocation eased.

The other shoe never dropped.

The warmth of Dev and Ren’s cocoon of acceptance and affection finally sank in and stuck, starting to melt the ice block her heart had become.

She was finally part of a family. A real one. One that would lay down their lives to protect hers. Ren had worked his ass off, but he’d succeeded.

Now it would be Mike Thatcher.

Her detective.

Her Fated.

He would become her family, her protector.

She’d rest peacefully in his arms at night knowing he’d defend her where it mattered most.
Her very soul
. The hatred surrounding him at the mere thought that horribly unspeakable things had been done to her burned her in the most ridiculously charming way.

“You’re thinking awfully hard there, beautiful,” Mike’s gritty voice mumbled.

When Giselle smiled against his pec, the predatory rumble in the back of his throat that vibrated through her made her slicker than an oil spill.

It was eleven o’clock in the morning. She’d been lying in Mike’s arms for the last two hours listening to his slow, even breaths and relishing in the lazy rise and fall of his chest under her cheek. Her Fated had been resting peacefully and she was loath to wake him again, but her body ached so damn bad she thought she was getting sick. She had been hibernating for over a hundred years and his impressive bedroom skills—and, more importantly, his unwavering love—had awoken a sleeping giant.

She was like a rabid animal that escaped its cage. Now that she had a taste of freedom—and real freedom was sheer, mind-melting bliss—she was going to run wild. Mike was so in tune with her already he knew it. She’d lost count of how many times he’d been inside her the past eight hours. He was human but the male could fuck like a machine.

“Do you need me again, baby?” he gruffed.

“Yes,” she breathed heavily, almost in apology, clawing the sheets back that covered his hardening cock.

“You’re trying to kill me.”

Her Fated’s weak complaint morphed into a throaty groan when she straddled him and sank down, inch by long inch. She had no idea human males could be this well endowed. When she had him as deep as he would go, she started to slowly cant her hips, rolling and shifting until she had just the right rhythm.

His neck arched, causing his head to sink farther into the fluffy pillows. She smiled when his eyes rolled in the back of his head. “Fuck, Giselle. Yes. Just like that, baby.” She whimpered when he hit a magical spot that made stars burst behind her lids and her lover moan.

“You like that?” he panted. Gripping her hips hard, he thrust upward to meet each downward stroke of hers.

“Uh huh,” she managed on a slight sob.

“Take what you need, baby. It’s all yours. Everything I have is yours.”

Her eyes, which had drifted shut, flew open and caught his piercing her, brimming with undeniable love. His intensity destroyed every defense she’d ever built to keep him out. With his taut, toned muscles bunching and heaving under her palms, she selfishly took. She shimmied her hips, her tempo gradually increasing until they were both sweaty and breathless. Mindless with the need to come.

“Squeeze that pussy, Giselle. Squeeze it hard. Right fucking now.”

Mike took control then, flipping Giselle onto her back. Bracing on his forearms with his hands securely wrapped in her blonde locks, he took her mouth like he took her body.

Savage. Rough. Ruthless.

He was relentless, a man driven by pure, raw need. It was exactly what she craved. When he bellowed his release, it triggered an unstoppable avalanche.

Ecstasy slammed into her as she took that last leap off a skyscraper and floated high above the ground. She was weightless. Suspended in that spot between space and time like she was nothing and everything.

Gravity eventually tugged, the inevitable fall back to Earth happening. It always did, sometimes faster than others, but this time, she drifted light as a feather. Blowing back and forth easily on the winds of pleasure. The landing was soft. Lazy.

Her senses gradually returned. Pinned between a hard, heaving body and the softness of bedding, she was wrapped in the heady, addictive scent of sex and her Fated.

“I never thought I’d say these words, but think I need a break, baby. My cock is about ready to fall off.”

She laughed, the sound muffled in the cords of Mike’s thick neck. “I’m sorry.”

He pulled back, cupping her face. “Don’t be sorry. I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m only a weak human.”

Sobering, she stroked his cheek lovingly. He was so much more than he saw. “You’re wrong. You’re the strong one here.”

“No, Giselle. I’ve never met a single person fiercer than you.”

A smile played with her lips before she let it out. She was relaxed and lighthearted. Two adjectives that would have never dared appear in the same sentence with Giselle before. “We could argue about that all day, but I guess we’ll just have to agree to disagree.”

“I guess we will.”

“Or we could fight about it and then have make-up sex.”

“Woman…” he groaned. “I need some rest.”

With her laughing, Mike kissed the tip of her nose before easing away. She marveled at both his fine, tight ass and how empty she felt with him gone, even just a few feet from her. In equal measure, she both liked and disliked the needy way she felt around him.
Is this overwhelming need for your Fated normal?
She wished she had someone to ask, like another female, because there was no way in hell she was asking her Vampire Lord, and Ren wouldn’t know.

Mike returned quickly with another hot cloth, gently cleaning her. Though she should be wrung dry, she squirmed under his touch and sighed when his hot breath hit her inner thigh before his lips landed for a sweet kiss.

“I love you,” he whispered against her abused sex.

“Are you talking to my pussy right now?” she asked on a chuckle.

Looking up from between her legs, his smile was lascivious. “Why wouldn’t I be? It is spectacular.”

Peals of happiness filled the small room. “Oh my God. You are insane.”

“Tell me you don’t love my cock.” He climbed up her body slowly, nipping her exposed flesh along the way like a predator toying with its food. His stiffening shaft pressed against her inner thigh and her moan was so loud she was sure the neighbors heard.

“No,” she teased breathlessly.
God, is this what normal couples do? Laugh, play, and have fun lounging in bed after countless rounds of sex? She’d been missing out on this for months.

“No what? No, you don’t love it or no, you can’t tell a lie?”

“No, I don’t love it.”

“A liar you are, eh?” he groused against her mouth. Tracing her lips with the tip of his tongue, Giselle sighed his name when he slipped inside her mouth and her pussy at the same time.

“I thought your cock was going to fall off?” she half groaned, half laughed.

She lost all ability to breath when he slid out and plunged back in hard and deep, practically lifting her off the bed.

“Tell me you love my cock.” His mouth crept across her jawline. It was very, very convincing, almost too convincing, but she wasn’t done playing.

“It’s okay, I suppose.”

Along with another cocky demand, he repeated the process, dragging their ultrasensitive nerve endings lazily along each other before driving back in. He was so damn deep she didn’t know where she ended and he began. She never wanted to find out.

“Say it.”

“Mike…” she hummed. She was unraveling. Fast. The road to rapture was short this time. She’d almost reached the top of the hill when he stopped. “What—”

“Say. It.”

“You’re actually going to withhold—”

“You’d better fucking believe I am.”

The corner of her lip curled. She ran a fingertip lightly over his carotid, practically moaning at the kick she felt in his pulse. It matched the one she felt pulsing deep in her core right now. “I bet I can change your mind,” her voice purred, dripping with a lure that was almost impossible for any human male to deny.

In a swift move, he had her hands pinned in his and above her head. “Yes. I bet you can. But I want you to give me this.”

Except apparently the male who was to be her mate.

“Why?” she panted.
Do it
, her body begged.
Give in.
But giving in wasn’t her strong suit. In fact, it wasn’t any suit she would ever wear.

“I need to know you’re as addicted to me as I am to you.” The steady, languid rocking of his hips resumed. But it wasn’t enough. Not even close to enough.

“I am. I’m worse than an addict.”

“Then tell me you love my cock.”

She was smiling so big her face hurt. “I genuinely like it. A lot, in fact.”

His laughter mingled with hers. Giselle definitely wasn’t a romantic being, but she’d never heard a sweeter sound than that of their combined genuine, relaxed contentment.

Trying to goad her, Mike picked up his pace until they were both panting. She was so close to orgasm, she could taste it, feel it, drink it almost. It was hers for the taking. Just one…more…thrust.

The bastard stopped.

Again.

“I’m not going to let you come until you tell me.” As if to prove his point, he flipped her onto her stomach and slid back inside before she could protest.

But in this position, the familiar swell of panic began creeping over her like a colony of fire ants cutting along her skin. Her flesh prickled and she started to sweat for an entirely different reason. This was the only way males took her in her former life. From the safety of behind.

Flashbacks assailed her. They tried to drag her flailing and screaming into their bruising hold once again. She fought. She wasn’t there, she wasn’t
there
, she
wasn’t
there.

Sensing her unease, Mike stopped and wrapped a palm around her throat, using his thumb to turn her toward him. The lines of his face were hard and soft all at the same time. “Watch me, baby. Stay with me. Only me. Yeah?”

Giselle nodded almost imperceptibly trying like hell to blink away the moisture gathering in her eyes.

“Don’t look away from me.” Withdrawing slowly, he eased back in just as unhurriedly.

“I won’t,” she breathed shakily. With his encouraging gaze, the dread began to lessen, but it still felt stifling, nauseating. Humiliation filled her to the breaking point. “I…I don’t know if I can…”

“Yes, you can,” he replied with a passion she’d not heard from him before. “I’m taking this from them. You hear me? They don’t get any fucking part of you. I get them all. You’re all fucking mine.”

Swallowing hard, a single tear fell. He lapped it up, letting his lips linger. “You’re mine. Say it.”

“I’m yours.”

“I want you to tell me they can’t have you.”

“Mike—”

“Giselle,” he retorted hotly.

“They can’t have me,” she eventually acquiesced. The declaration felt good. Powerful. She’d said them countless times before, but for the first time in her life…she meant it. She didn’t want this invisible hold tethering her to the horrors of yesterday. She wanted to be free. “They can’t have me,” she echoed, stronger this time.

“Good girl.”

Mike pressed back in on a long, broken groan. This time, she focused only on him. His ragged breathing against her throat, the flecks of amber dotting his irises, the song their bodies made together. Once again, he drove them up the sharp edge of bliss in tandem, but it was his heartfelt words that started her tipping. “God, I love you, Giselle.”

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