Fury of Obsession (Dragonfury Series Book 5) (8 page)

Time to shut it down and get back to business.

Mac made another attempt to catch Rikar.

“Shelve it, you two. Save it for another time,”
he said, admonishing his warriors, killing the possibility of a wrestling match before it got serious.
“Sloan—what’s the message?”

“Two words—Granite Falls.”

“What the hell is that supposed tae mean?”
Twisting into a sidewinding flip, Forge fell into line, bringing up the rear of the procession. The wind kicked up, clicking against his dark-purple scales.
“Person, place, or thing, lad?”

“Place,”
Mac said, putting knowledge of the state gleaned from years as an SPD homicide detective to good use.
“Small town in the Cascades, close to the Canadian border.”

“Exactly.”
The rapid sound of keystrokes came through mind-speak. The clickety-click-click meant one thing. Sloan was planted in front of his computer, doing what he did best—mining data, busting through firewalls, hacking into secure servers to pull pertinent information off the cyber highway.
“Not sure what it means yet. I’m just getting into it, but that’s not why I pinged you.”

Bastian tensed. The edge in Sloan’s voice spelled trouble. Whenever his warrior used it, problems followed. Guaranteed.
“Tell me.”

Springs squeaked as Sloan swiveled in his chair.
“Daimler came to get me. He can’t find Venom anywhere. He’s gone, B.”

“What the fuck?”
Blue-gray scales flashed in the gloom as Mac broke formation. He treated Bastian to a worried look.
“He left the lair alone?”

“Yeah,”
Sloan said.

Rikar growled.
“Christ.”

“Shit.”
Oh, so not good. A total breach in protocol. One Bastian couldn’t get behind. Venom knew better than to leave the lair without a wingman. Flying solo was dangerous. Alone equaled vulnerable. And vulnerable often led to dead.
“Where’s Wick?”

“With J. J.”

Bastian bit down on a curse.
“Go get him.”

“No way.”
The click of computer keys stopped mid-stroke. The pause meant one thing. Sloan was scrambling, thinking up an excuse to stay clear of Wick.
“I’m not pulling him out of bed and away from his female on his night off. I don’t have a death wish.”

With a growl, Bastian dropped another f-bomb.

Rikar sighed.

The wonder twins stayed silent for once.

Thank God. The last thing Bastian needed was more trouble. Or backlash from the pair’s warped sense of humor.
“Got any ideas, Sloan?”

“One.”
Leather creaked. Chair coils squeaked. The thud of boots on concrete sounded as Sloan started to pace.
“The Luxmore Hotel. Really upscale. Lots of females. Good feeding. I told him about it last week.”

Bastian nodded even though his warrior couldn’t see him.
“Address?”

Sloan rattled off a street name, pointing him toward the north end of Seattle. Putting on the brakes, Bastian wheeled around. The others followed, moving into flight formation, rocketing over the forest alongside him. Good thing too. He needed all hands on deck. The extraction would require some finesse. The kind that came with a truckload of brute force. Venom wouldn’t come quietly. He never did when it came to females. His warrior loved the fairer sex too much. Liked to take his time. Enjoyed the slide into ecstasy more than most males. Wanted a female to call his own, which—ding-ding-ding, give the man a prize—was no doubt why he’d ignored the rules and flown out alone tonight.

He was hunting for a female.

A forever one? Or just sex with one of his flavors of the week?

Hard to know. But one thing for sure? The second he caught up with Venom, mayhem would ensue. And the beat-down would get under way. He swallowed a growl. Idiot male. Flying out solo. Such a dumb-ass move. One he refused to leave unchallenged. Rules existed for a reason: to ensure the warriors under his command kept on breathing. S
o . . .
time to put the hammer down. Venom needed his ass kicked along with a reality check. Bastian snarled as he flew over Interstate 90. Just his luck. He was in the mood to give his warrior a shitload of both.

Chapter Six

Venom sighed as Evelyn settled in his arms. Hmm, she was exquisite. So warm in his embrace. So incredible pressed up against him. So beautiful with her dark hair and soft mocha skin. Everything about her lured him in. Strung him tight. Made him fixate on the smallest detail—the sensual curve of her hips, the generosity of her backside, the arousing stir of her scent. Inhaling deep, he indulged, drawing her into his lungs an
d . . .
oh, baby. Another gift. He loved the way she smelled, summer sweet, like dew-soaked skies and warm, sultry nights.

All natural. One hundred percent female. Not a hint of perfume.

Slipping his hand beneath her shoulder-length curls, he cupped the nape of her neck and dipped his head. His jaw brushed her cheek. She gasped. The soft inhalation strung him tighter as the Meridian hummed, opening a link between them. Her bio-energy flared, expanding around her. Setting his mouth to her temple, Venom took a sip an
d . . .
glory, glory, hallelujah. She tasted amazing. Was beyond good—everything he needed, yet hadn’t expected. Not surprising. He’d never experienced anyone like Evelyn. Her uniqueness—the sheer beauty of her energy—shocked him, locking him in place against her. Her potency kept him there, tempting him to take more as he fed from the source that nourished his kind.

Unable to help himself, he indulged in another sip.

His fingertips tingled with renewed warmth.

Shivering in his embrace, Evelyn shifted against him. Tipping her chin up, she nestled closer, strengthened the connection, giving her energy and him more access. The current intensified. Venom groaned as her aura pulsed, surrounding him in glorious heat. Another round of pleasure prickled through him. His heart picked up a beat, slamming against the inside of his chest. Blood roared in his ears. The rush thrummed through his veins, pushing arousal into full-blown need.

Or toward complete desperation.

Venom didn’t know which. Primal drive wiped his mind clean. Now deep-seated instinct ruled, rousing his dragon half, pushing compulsion to the forefront of his brain. He sucked in a breath. It didn’t help an
d . . .
oh, shit. Giving the beast inside him free rein wasn’t a good idea. Females ended up hurt that way. At least, while standing next to him. His venomous nature didn’t compromise. Neither did male needs. Both urged him to abandon his scruples, rush the foreplay and raise her skirt—spread her thighs and love her hard. Without preamble or mercy and—

Venom tensed. God help him. He wanted to do it. To touch and taste, tease until she moaned his name. Until she begged for him and all the pleasure he yearned to give her.

An excellent plan. But for one thin
g . . .

Rushing her would be tantamount to forcing her.

Something he refused to do.

A strange thought considering her willingness. But despite everything—his ravenous reaction to her, her profession, and the money on the table—he sensed her unease. Mistrust infused the air around her, drawing him in, making him aware of her upset. Evelyn teemed with emotion, her confusion driven by uncertainty. The tempest bubbled just beneath the surface of her skin—in the place modesty lived and integrity thrived.

Venom understood. He really did. She didn’t like her reaction to him. Was fighting the push-pull of attraction. Hell, so was he. The difference between him and her? While she fought to preserve her professional veneer and stay in control, Venom wanted to accept the turmoil and let go. To be free for once. To make love to a female who made him feel something—anything—instead of indulging in a meaningless romp in a dark corner of a club somewhere. The idea grabbed hold, enslaving him with possibility.

A whole host of interesting scenarios streamed into his head.

He’d love her more than once. Twice, perhaps. Maybe even a third time before the venom in his veins took over and forced him to leave her. So, time to decide—down and dirty the first round? Or a long, luxurious loving? Both held real promise, bu
t . . .

Venom shook his head. No. Not this time. No rushing. It wasn’t going to be quick and clean. Not with Evelyn. For the first time ever, he wanted to linger and enjoy. To savor a female. To prolong her pleasure until he couldn’t delay fulfillment any longer.

He growled. Oh, yeah, incendiary and slow sounded better. Like Christmas morning come early. And no wonder. Holding Evelyn was the best kind of torture. Pure bliss wrapped up in a curvy bundle. She felt so good against him. So enticing. So sweet. More than just pretty, she was sheer perfection. A feast for the senses. Without thought, he drew on her energy and, drinking deep, fingered the clasp at the back of her dress. A quick flick released the button hook. He tugged on the zipper. Metal teeth resisted a moment, then released, breaking the silence with sensual sound.

His hand slipped beneath the fabric, grazing soft skin.

Evelyn inhaled hard as his fingertips slid along her spine. He sighed and, attuned to her tension, nipped at her earlobe. She twitched, rebelling a little, resisting his touch, shifting away instead of toward him. Venom murmured her name, then waited, hoping his voice reassured her, an
d . . .
bingo. Sweet, sweet victory. Evelyn surrendered and, exhaling a shaky breath, relaxed into his caress. And he continued, sliding the zipper all the way down. The back of her dress gaped, exposing her to the chill in the room. Goose bumps rose on her skin. Shifting focus, Venom set his mouth to the corner of hers. Her breath hitched. He tempted her with a gentle kiss. A barely there caress. Not much of a touch at all.

But it was enough.

His patience paid off. Between one moment and the next, she fell into trust and, fisting her hands in his shirt, tipped her chin up. Her lips parted. The movement told Venom all he needed to know. Evelyn wanted him. Wasn’t shutting him down or tense in his arms. She’d moved past denial. Now she welcomed him, asking for more.

With a hum, Venom gave it to her, nipping her bottom lip before dipping inside. Hunger rose, urging him to deepen the contact. Venom killed the impulse. Slow and steady. A little at a time, and she would submit. Be his for the taking. One hundred percent committed to the sexual play. So he kept each caress light, brushing her mouth with each pass, tempting her to open for him, teasing her with his tongue until—

He dipped inside her mouth, an
d . . .
oh God. She was a dream come true. His ticket to untold pleasure.

Venom’s breath caught as she became the aggressor. Popping onto her tiptoes, she slipped her hands into his hair and pressed closer. Breasts brushing his chest, Evelyn grazed his scalp with her nails and kissed him back. With a groan, he opened wide, begged for more without words, praying she gave it to him, and—thank Silfer. She didn’t deny him. Accepting his tongue, she deepened the contact. Her taste invaded his mouth. Desire went cataclysmic, cranking him tight an
d . . .

Frigging hell.

She was unbelievable. So goddamn good he needed another round. More of her skin against his. More of her taste in his mouth. More of the sexy sounds that she made. Right now. This instant. He couldn’t wait a moment longer. Didn’t know how to stop the sensual slide. Or slow his rapid spiral into mindless need. His brain was fried, ping-ponging all over the place, killing rational thought along with his restraint. Now he couldn’t string two thoughts together, never mind control his descent into bliss-fueled oblivion.

He was losing control. Coming apart at the seams. Allowing a female to lead him.

Something he never tolerated.

Dominant in bed, he always dictated the play. The tempo too. But somehow, Evelyn pushed past his limits. Now he was lost. In a lifeboat and at sea with nothing but her to guide him home. Not a good idea. He was so much bigger—so much stronger, a Dragonkind male in control of powerful magic and a venomous nature. Which didn’t bode well for her if he couldn’
t . . .
if he didn’
t . . .

Goddamn it. He needed to bear down and reassert himself. Put his brain back in gear and yank Evelyn out of the driver’s seat. The toxins in his veins—and the damage he could do to her without meaning to—dictated the play. He had rules. Ones he followed to the letter, no matter what when dealing with females. The first and most crucial? He kept his coo
l . . .
at all times. The second, third, and fourth? Deliver bone-melting pleasure, receive some in return, then get out before the female ended up injured.

Tonight, however, his rules had gone to hell and not come back.

In the space of a few minutes, the landscape had shifted, dragging awareness to the forefront of realization. Evelyn did something strange to him. His reaction to her surpassed
need
and pushed passed
want
. Somehow. Some way. For some reason, his dragon half recognized her for what she was—the missing piece to an unfinished puzzle. Venom frowned as instinct screwed with his mental map, leaving him with a crazy conclusion.

Maybe the rules didn’t apply to her.

Mayb
e . . .
just mayb
e . . .
Evelyn could take him all the way. Forget the usual forty minutes. He could take his time. Be as intense as he liked. Stay as long as he wanted. All night. Into the wee hours of the morning and throughout the day—without hurting her.

His dragon half served up the facts.

Venom kissed her again. Deeper. Harder. Taking her mouth with enough ferocity to test his theory. Paying attention to every nuance, he walked her backward. Her back bumped the wall and he pressed in, caging her in his arms. She moaned and tightened her grip in his hair. With a murmur, he cupped her backside and, hands sliding over silk, lifted her feet off the floor. A precise shift put him in front of the dresser. Tangling his tongue with hers, he set her down on the wooden edge.

The flat screen TV wobbled behind her.

Venom didn’t care. The place could fall down, break into pieces around him, and he wouldn’t have noticed. He was too busy with Evelyn, kissing her, shoving her skirt up, settling his hips between the spread of her thighs. Gasping his name, she hooked her knee over his hip and arched in welcome. The Meridian surged, hammering him with a pulsing wave of energy. His brain buzzed, scrambling reason, destroying restraint. Unable to resist her, he drank deep, glutting himself on the astounding taste of her. Magic crackled in his veins. His body hummed, prickling with vitality as she moaned into his mouth. The soft sound gripped his heart. And realization struck.

She was more than just an HE female.

Evelyn was energy personified. Powerful and intense, the ideal bedmate. At least, for him. Her bio-energy—the frequency at which she connected to the Meridian—matched hi
s . . .
perfectly. No deviation in the energy fields. Not a single thread out of place. Which meant she could satisfy him. Was designed to feed him until he was full and keep him healthy. Could love him into oblivion without suffering a single side effect.

Shock struck like a closed fist.

His breath shuddered, stalling inside his chest.

He flinched, then froze. His mouth against hers, he struggled to understand. It defied reason. Simply
couldn’t
be, and yet, the truth circled, refusing to be denied. Despite everything he knew about himself—and the curse of his venomous nature—she proved him wrong. The glory of her bio-energy—the absolute beauty of her—cinched it, pushing past shock to reveal the truth.

Evelyn belonged to him.

He belonged to her.

They’d been made for each other.

He’d found his mate. His equal in every way. The only female who would ever match and meet his need
s . . .
in a fancy hotel under unsettling circumstances. Holy shit. It was wild. Nearly incomprehensible. He’d imagined her so often. Pictured her in his mind’s eye over and over. Again and again. What she would look like. How she would feel. The sound of her voice along with the unfettered intimacy she would bring into his life. Venom quivered against her. His hands started to shake. Goddamn. He’d dreamed and hoped and prayed. All without believing he had a chance of finding her. Ever. But here, in this moment, he held her in his arms. Was a breath away from claiming what he longed to possess. A female to call his own. Which mean
t . . .

He needed to stop. Right now.

He couldn’t claim her this way. Refused to make love to her with money on the line. The claiming needed to be pure and honest, a meeting of minds, hearts, and bodies. Not like this—two strangers in a passionate exchange that meant nothing and would mean even less in the aftermath. The realization sent him spinning. Digging in, Venom stopped the mental whirl and, tucking desire back into its box, gentled the kiss.

Evelyn grumbled, protesting his retreat.

The sexy sound made him come back. He kissed her again. And then again. One more time before he pulled back to cup her cheek. Her face settled in the palm of his hand an
d . . .
oh, man. He was an idiot. For smothering the incendiary burn of desire. For coming to his senses. For allowing Evelyn to come to hers. But with his conscience screaming and his mate in his arms, Venom couldn’t fault his reasoning.