Fury of Seduction (Dragonfury Series #3) (42 page)

Her grip tightened around the ribbon binding her. Soft satin and intense lovemaking, a decadent combination. One that sent her over the edge so fast, Tania forgot to breathe. Suspended in pleasure, she heard Mac’s shout, felt his body stiffen and the warm throb deep inside her. Hmm, yeah. There he went, losing control, giving Tania her due, coming apart so fast she reached orgasm again, throbbing hard around him.

“Fuck me,” he groaned against the side of her throat.

Heart hammering like runaway voodoo drums, she gasped, “Thought I just did.”

He huffed, the sound half laugh, half moan a second before he went warm and heavy against her. With a sigh, Tania followed his lead. As she softened beneath him—cradling him between her thighs, her knees up around his hips, holding him the only way she could—the relaxing curl of afterglow took hold.

Minutes (or hours later...Tania didn’t know), Mac raised his head. Cool air washed in, prickling along her shoulder and neck as his skin left hers. She grumbled in protest, wanting him to come back. He shifted instead, making her hum, pressing deeper between her thighs to prop himself
up on his elbows. Languid, suffering from a serious case of fuzzy-brain syndrome, she forced her eyes open.

The color of turbulent seas, his gaze met hers. Hmm, so nice. Not to mention a huge switch. At the cabin, his glowing irises had freaked her out. Now? She loved it when the Mediterranean blue shimmered like that.

Now it roamed, warming her face as he brushed the hair away from her temples. “You okay? I wasn’t too rough?”

“Nah-uh. Sheer perfection.”

Satisfaction stole into his expression. Reaching up, he tugged at the satin knots securing her hands. A moment later she was free, and Mac went to work, unwinding the ribbon from around her wrists, massaging the marks on her skin, then the palms of each of her hands before moving on to treat her fingers.

She sighed. “So nice.”

He murmured in answer. When he was done taking care of her, he caressed the undersides of her arms, encouraging her to bring both down from above her head. She took the hint and, twining them around his neck, pushed her fingers through his hair. With a soft growl, he arched into her touch, enjoying her foray across his scalp. She gave him more, playing in the soft strands at his nape.

“God, unbelievable. You’re so fucking good, honey.”

Tania’s heart swelled at the compliment. It was one of many she’d received throughout the day. He liked to talk while he loved her into a pleasure coma, and she couldn’t get enough of him...or the wicked timbre of his voice every time he whispered something naughty in her ear.

Everything he said made her feel worthy.

Desired. Important for a change. More than just the pretty face men saw but never looked beyond. No one cared that she was smart, that she had feelings, ambitions, and needs of her own. All they saw was a curvy brunette. Not her. Never the real her.

But not Mac. He liked her sense of humor. Enjoyed her brain as much as her body. She could tell by the way he looked at her. How he laughed at her jokes and asked all kinds of questions: about her life, likes and dislikes, her favorite color. Nothing was out of bounds. And she’d answered them all. Which, of course, prompted the use of her two favorite things...

The color red and fancy ribbon.

“You’re a wild one, Tania Solares,” he murmured, twirling a lock of her hair around his fingertip.

Another compliment. At least by Mac’s standards. “So are you.”

“No question,” he said. “I just...didn’t expect you to want it like that.”

“Me, either. I’m not very experienced with—”

“The dom stuff?”

“With the sex stuff.” His brows rose. Tania swallowed, trying to decide. Go all in and be honest? Tell him she’d been with a total of one guy (which had been decidedly unfun) or gloss over the truth, distract him while she protected herself? But as she met his gaze, the damnedest thing happened. She didn’t want to lie to him. “I have a hard time trusting men, so I’ve never let any of them close, well...until you. You’re different. You make me feel safe. I know you won’t hurt me, and that makes me...I don’t know...bold, willing to experiment or something. I honestly don’t know what I like in bed.”

“I found a few things today.”

“Yes, you did.” Appreciation for his skill prickled through her. She wiggled beneath him, pushing her hips into his. “Question is...will you be able to find more?”

The smile reached his eyes a second before it curved his mouth. “Count on it, but not right now.”

“Ah, come on. One more round.”

“Night is falling,
mo chroí
. The others are already gathering, so...” He pulled out, leaving the cradle of her thighs. Supersensitive from all the loving, Tania sucked in a quick breath. A muscle flexed in his jaw. Hanging his head, he groaned through his teeth, gave her bottom a gentle slap, then slid toward the mattress edge. She threw him a look of feigned outrage. He grinned and, shackling her wrist, tugged her across the crumpled sheets. “Up and at ’em.”

“I need a shower.”

“Fucking A,” he said, his tone full of anticipation.

And oh boy.
Bleeping A
was right.

Showering with Mac was an experience, a frickin’-frackin’ fantastic one. So fun Tania didn’t want playtime to end. He was better than a water park with a gigantic wave pool; more intense, one hundred times more scream worthy, and an excellent surfer too. And as he whipped up minicyclones with his magic inside the oversize shower stall, she splashed around like a naked water nymph...enchanted by his awesomeness, getting carried away, asking him to do the tidal wave thing
again
.

Half an hour and another slap on the butt later, though, they were out, dried off, and Mac was all business. While he did the magical get-dressed thing, she wiggled into the pair of borrowed jeans, then pulled one of Myst’s T-shirts over her head. Unwrapping her towel turban, she padded
across the multicolored Persian carpet, tossed the terry cloth over the end of the four-poster bed, and stopped in front of the dresser. The glimmer of the antique mirror did its job, picking up her reflection. She shifted through the mound of hair elastics. Thank God for Daimler. The elf was a freak of nature, all knowing or something. He kept leaving stuff outside Mac’s bedroom door: food, clothes for her, and now hair stuff.

She grabbed a red band, then paused. J.J.’s letter. Warped by its swim with her at the bottom of the ocean, it sat beneath the pile of barrettes, the folded corners curled up and looking at her. Staring back, Tania looped her hair into a messy bun on top of her head.

Mac appeared behind her, his reflection dwarfing her own. “Ready?”

A mighty astute question.

It could’ve applied to anything, but Tania chose its direction. Honesty required commitment, the kind that crept into every corner of a person’s life. J.J. had made a terrible mistake, sure, but Tania wasn’t ashamed of her sister. And as she looked at Mac, Tania knew...just
knew
...she needed to tell him. To open up, trust him completely, and admit to something she’d only ever spoken about with Myst.

There were no happy mediums. Not with him. All or nothing. That was the way she wanted it to be.

Deciding on something, however, didn’t make it any easier to talk about. Mac was a cop at heart, ex-SPD. No telling how he’d react when he found out she had a felon in the family. Tania grimaced. Jeez, that sounded bad, and she hadn’t even said it out loud yet.

Nerves got the better of her, twisting her stomach into knots. She took a deep breath, reset her courage,
and reached for the letter. Paper rasped against her fingertips. The barrettes jingled, clicking together as she dumped them into a new pile on the dresser. Raising her gaze, she met Mac’s in the mirror. A solid, silent presence behind her, he tipped his chin, asking without words. Her heart picked up a beat, then another, pumping her full of uncertainty. She murdered her unease and, swallowing hard, handed him the letter over her shoulder, trusting him with her secret.

Holding her steady with his eyes, he accepted her offering. The smell of salt water rose as he unfolded J.J.’s letter. Tania watched him read it. He reached the end, then started again, scanning it from top to bottom.

“My sister...the convicted criminal,” she whispered, unable to stand the silence any longer. “How’s that strike you?”

“Doesn’t bother me at all, honey.” Wrapping his arm around her from behind, he settled his chin on the top of her head. He tossed the letter, aiming for the dresser top. The paper fluttered, seesawing in midair before it touched down. “But it bothers you, doesn’t it?”

“I hate that she’s in there, but not for the reasons you think,” she said, close to tears, the if onlys rising to taunt her once again. If only she’d been a better big sister. If only she’d paid attention and gotten J.J. help. Gone to her rescue...whatever...before things escalated into an extreme life-and-death situation.
If only...if only...if only.
Two little words. A huge cross to bear. “J.J.’s a free spirit...a beautiful bird. She needs to fly.”

“But got a cage instead.” When she nodded, he asked, “What’s she in for?”

“Manslaughter.” He arched a brow. She leaned into his embrace, resting the back of her head against his shoulder. “Jerk-off boyfriend. She left him. He didn’t like it and—”

“Shit. He came after her, didn’t he?”

“Threatened to kill me first, then go after her.”

“The fucker,” he growled, his eyes darkening with fury.

“An asshole of the first order,” she said, holding his gaze. “But here’s the thing...J.J.’s parole board hearing? I need to be there. I’m all she has. Her only family. No one else will stand up and speak for her. She’s my baby sister, Mac. I need to get her the hell out of there.”

“I hear that,” he said, tying her in knots with his understanding.

Astounding, incredible, beautiful man. Instead of judging her as she feared, he listened and accepted, supporting her without hesitation. Holding on to her tears, she whispered a heartfelt, “Thank you.”

“No need.” Brushing aside her gratitude, he gave her a gentle squeeze. “Before we decide anything, though, let me talk to Sloan.”

Tania frowned. “Why?”

“He’s good with computers. He may be able to hack into their system...give us an edge on your sister’s proceedings and—”

“Oh my God!” she yelped as what he offered struck home. A miracle...a real chance at victory and securing J.J.’s freedom. Joy made her heart hitch. With an exuberant hop, she spun in his embrace. “Holy jeez, I love you. I love you!” Planting a kiss on his mouth, she threw her arms around him. “Thank you...thank you...thank you!”

Expecting to be hugged in return, Tania frowned when Mac went stone still against her. A nanosecond later he stiffened, his arms loosening around her. She pulled back to glance at his face. He looked, well...
stunned
was a good word.
Panicked
was another. What the heck was wrong with him? Confusion met concern, then shook hands and—

Ah...what had she said to him?

She replayed her reaction and resulting tumble of words.
I love you.

Oh, snap. She hadn’t meant to say that. But now that she had? Tania refused to regret it. Or take the words—and the unrelenting truth behind them—back.

Too bad for her.

’Cause sure as she stood there, staring up at the man she loved, Tania knew she’d pushed too far, too fast. And sent Mac into a tailspin while she was at it.

Standing under the blistering spray, Nian tossed the soap into its holder. Sudsing up a fifth time wouldn’t help. No matter how hard he scrubbed, he couldn’t get clean enough. Washing the ugliness away was an impossibility. So was the ability to forget. Psychological filth, after all, was a tricky beast. It stuck with a male, pervasive, persistent, but above all...

Unforgiving.

Planting his hands against the shower wall, Nian hung his head and with a mental flick dialed the temperature up another notch. Hot water scalded him, streaming over his shoulders, down his back to rush over the tops of his bare feet. He relished the burn
and craved the pain. He deserved it, and far worse, for what he had allowed to happen tonight. For standing by while others suffered. For abandoning the innocent souls trapped inside Rodin’s pleasure pavilion to return to the comfort of his home.

God forgive him. He’d watched and done nothing.

Nian frowned at the colorful mosaic tiles between his feet. Well, not quite
nothing
. He’d managed to save one female, a blonde-haired beauty caught in an untenable situation. Drugged into compliance. Shoved up on stage. Forced to stand on an auction block while males of his kind bid for her favors...for the right to own her in the way humans did their dogs.

The depravity turned his stomach. And yet he’d played his part to perfection. Made Rodin nod in approval as he dropped forty-five grand to possess one of the females on display.

Go along to get along. Wasn’t that the saying? Probably, but...

Nian closed his eyes. He despised himself for it. For staying his hand and allowing the slave auction to proceed without objection. Now he paid the price. The cost? His honor. So here he stood, dirtied by shame and trapped by circumstance. One in which an innocent female would pay with her life.