Kiss of Darkness (15 page)

Oh, she didn’t think so. No way in hell was she giving control of her life to someone else and like lupines, nightwalker males had a reputation for uncompromising dominance. One they’d earned. But the only way to deal with this would be to go directly to the source. They were going to have this out once and for all. In a flash she was gone and once again standing in the foyer of the nightwalker Lord’s home.

Chapter Twenty

He’d been alarmed when he first woke, but it quickly passed. Marcus felt the bond between them, not yet strong but secure enough that Winter wouldn’t be able to break it. He let his mind open, reaching out to test his surroundings. He, Kadall and Marelle were the only ones in the house. He hoped wherever Luke was he was in control. The last thing he needed right now was his twin going ballistic. Since Luke’s mate had shut him out last night that was a very real possibility. He reached down the path that connected them and received assurance that Luke was fine. Only then did he turn his complete focus to Winter.

He knew she was all right. He was always in her mind, but knowing and seeing were two different things. She was in some kind of meeting, thinking. Always thinking. Working scenarios in her mind, trying to trace all the twisted paths of possibilities behind the demon attacks. She’d reached the same conclusion he had. It was almost certainly a hybrid feeding information to the demons. Someone who’d gone rogue or was so close to it there was little difference. What she couldn’t figure out was who—names, faces, backgrounds ran continuously through her mind and he felt her frustration. She didn’t know, really know, enough of them to make an informed guess. Buried under all that was worry. Worry about those she was responsible for. Worry about her own limitations, the risks she posed to her own people.

She saw herself as a liability. She was afraid she wasn’t strong enough or fast enough or smart enough. She didn’t see what everyone else saw when they looked at her. What he saw.

She was magnificent.

He shut his eyes, reveling in the scent of her, the feel of her in his mind. Even though she didn’t want this, didn’t want a bond with him, she was there. Had been there for weeks. He felt her trying to re-erect the wall she’d managed to put up just a couple of days ago and laughed. It was much too late for that.

She was also a pain in the ass.

She knew he didn’t want her leaving the house when he couldn’t follow and ensure her safety, but did she comply? Hell no. She rushed foolishly out into danger just to avoid him, to avoid what was between them. Then she tried to block him. It was his right to have complete access to her mind. He would be a bit more forceful in his explanation next time.

His stomach growled. Rising, he grabbed the first pair of clean jeans he could find and dressed in a hurry. Downstairs he could smell cooking food and went straight for the kitchen. Jerking to a stop as he entered, he cleared his throat.

Turning to face the doorway and thereby shielding his mate from Marcus’s sight, Kadall lifted his head from Marelle’s breast, but kept his hands firmly gripping her ass. Marcus arched an eyebrow, waiting as Kadall struggled against his instincts, struggled to contain the snarl Marcus knew he’d be feeling, not to mention contain the power of a mind that wanted to snap out at the intrusion, the possible threat. Restraining the urge, Kadall swept the woman up in his arms and edged past Marcus in the doorway.

He entered the kitchen shaking his head. Kadall should be beyond that kind of struggle, the bond between him and his mate strong enough, the claiming long ago complete, that he should be able to maintain the civilized veneer they all wore even when interrupted like he’d been. Marcus didn’t make it habit to interfere with mated pairs, but he’d have to speak to Kadall, get to the root of this new development. He couldn’t afford to have a senior soldier so unstable at this point in the game. Maybe he was simply feeling Marcus’s and Luke’s struggles. God knew the energy level in the house was off the scale.

Liquid popped and sizzled on the stove. Inhaling deeply, he approached and turned the heat down to low. Spaghetti sauce. Must be Kadall’s turn to cook; it was the only thing in his repertoire. Setting another pot, this one just water, to boil on the stove he entered the pantry in search of pasta. He finally located a box buried under a bag of dried beans.

Sighing, he returned to the stove. He really had to find a new cook. The last had left when she’d mated a human of all things. Rare, but it happened. The bond would keep the human alive and young as long as she lived.

That was when life was too boring, before he met Winter.

Suddenly, he felt her anger, her determination. He closed his eyes and let it wash through him, connecting to her to see what had her so riled up, and smiling at what he saw. Mitchell had just informed her that she couldn’t stay with the pack, that he wouldn’t interfere in what was between her and Marcus. The wolf was smarter than Marcus had originally given him credit for.

The water started to boil and he opened the box, dropping enough pasta for two in. She might be furious with him but she still had to eat. She wouldn’t make him wait long.

He felt her presence in the house as soon as she arrived. The air crackled with fury. He didn’t seek her out, was careful to mask his presence in the house. He wanted her to use the mental connection between them to find him. Every time she used it, the link was strengthened. She knew exactly what he was doing and he laughed out loud at the surge of irritation she sent down the path.

He didn’t turn around when she entered but he felt her watching him, an almost physical stroke over his back. He knew she didn’t do it on purpose, had done it unconsciously, but it cheered him anyway. She could fight what was between them, but she couldn’t win. It was only a matter of time before she accepted that.

He drained the pasta over the sink, reached for two plates and put a generous helping on each. “Hungry?” he asked, keeping his voice neutral so none of the irritation he felt over her leaving showed. He didn’t acknowledge her anger either.

He heard her move, her steps soft in the still room. “I could eat.”

She stepped up next to him and taking the plate he handed her added sauce to it. She got two forks from the drawer and handed one to him. She must have been in the kitchen before she’d left this afternoon.

Winter had come back intending to give him a piece of her mind. Then he’d offered to feed her and now look at her, all docile and accommodating and quiet. God, what was wrong with her? She would have screamed in frustration but she was suddenly starving, her stomach reminding her she’d abandoned the bacon and eggs earlier without taking a bite. She ate. She could yell to her heart’s content later.

Neither spoke other than her murmured “thank you” when he handed her a glass of wine and his just as quiet “you’re welcome.” When her plate was clean, she carried it to the sink and rinsed it off, adding it to the others waiting to be run in the dishwasher. Such mundane tasks. So homey. She couldn’t decide if she liked that feeling or not. Turning to face the table she saw he was also finished and leaning back in his chair studying her, a self-satisfied expression on his face. Yeah. Right. She didn’t like the congenial atmosphere. Didn’t like the smirk that seemed to say she was going to give her life over without a fight.

“You had no right,” she said.

He arched an eyebrow but didn’t try to pretend he didn’t know what she was talking about. “I had every right. You’re mine.”

How could he sit there so calmly and make such an outrageous statement? It was impossible. She simply refused to
be
with someone that much, that completely. She shook her head. No. No way.

“You aren’t going to win this fight, Winter.” So damned calm, so cool. Nothing like the hot temper that had been in her head for the last two months. She knew he was angry, she felt it, but he kept a firm lid on it. Of course, some of the sexual tension had been eased and he’d fed from her. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. There was the obvious benefit, the lessening of the demon’s control. But it was one thing about the nightwalkers she’d always found kind of creepy. She snorted to herself. Like binding your soul to a demon’s wasn’t creepy? She wasn’t exactly in a position to throw stones.

And never mind any of that. She just wasn’t ready to tie herself to one man, to make the choice that felt like a betrayal of David’s memory. Maybe it would help if she explained. She doubted it, but it couldn’t hurt, right?

“I was married, you know. Before I joined the Order.”

“I know.” He said it softly, tenderness in his eyes.

It got her back up. She didn’t want his sympathy. She wanted space. She wanted to be left alone. She knew she was broadcasting the thought when his gaze hardened and his jaw clenched. He stood and stepped closer to her, taking her chin between his fingers and forcing her to look up at him.

I’m not going anywhere and neither are you.

His lips closed over hers, his tongue thrusting into her mouth. Stealing her over, digging deeper into her heart. Her body responded against her will, against her command for it to slow down. She pushed closer to him, rubbed her hard nipples against his chest, aching for relief. Her sex grew wet as he intensified the kiss, his tongue delving deep, mimicking the actions she wanted from his cock.

She slipped one hand up the back of his shirt, swallowing his groan when her skin contacted his. Then she reached a hand between them, outlining the bulge of his erection, rubbing it before trying to pop the snap at the top of his jeans. He stopped her with a low growl and secured both her hands at the base of her back. Need crawled through her and she choked on a sob. Would he fuck her already? Or was he going to torment her, going to deny her because she’d snuck out of his bed earlier?

He tugged on her hands, forcing her to arch her back so that her breasts thrust forward and up, the hard tips clearly outlined in the tight shirt she wore.

“Is that really what you want? You want me to fuck you like any other woman? Like someone who means nothing to me?”

Leaning forward, he scraped his teeth over her nipple. At the same time, he thrust into her mind, sending wicked image after wicked image of what he wanted to do to her, what he wanted to make her feel. She almost screamed at the overload of sensation, almost came at the feel of him at her breast and in her mind. Almost. He kept her just on the edge. She felt the purpose in him, the intent to prove he meant more to her than some casual sexual encounter. He moved his thigh between her legs and lifted her on it a little, rubbed it against her sex. She trembled with the need to come.

No. You haven’t earned it yet.

Her mind froze for a split-second, then rebelled at the command, the dominance in that voice. She struggled against him, tried to force him to release her even as her body yearned for him, yearned to be taken in every way he’d ever shown her. But the level of trust required was something she didn’t think she was capable of.

He released her abruptly and she stumbled back. Wrapping her arms around her middle she paced away and struggled to regain control, forced herself to remember all her responsibilities, all the reasons she couldn’t just give herself over to someone else’s care. She couldn’t
be
soft and weak. There was no time and no room in her life for it.

By sheer force of will, she didn’t jerk away when his hands settled on her shoulders. He leaned closer, his lips brushing the sensitive skin under her ear and her body did what it predictably did at his touch.

“It’s not a weakness to let your mate take care of your needs. And it’s my right. My privilege.”

He sucked her skin between his teeth, bit sharply and her womb convulsed. His hands moved under her shirt, sliding up her torso to cup her breasts, lightly pulling on her nipples. Oh the hell with it. She pushed her ass back against him. She’d give up control if it appeased this incredible need.

That’s it, baby. Give over to me. Let me take care of you.

She couldn’t respond, couldn’t think about anything but the orgasm that was just out of reach, the tension spiraling tighter and tighter through her body. He spun her around, kissed her as he picked her up and left the kitchen. Up the stairs. Back to his room. Right where she’d started out the day.

She dropped her weapons in a chair and stripped out of the rest of her clothes as fast as she could while he did the same. He met her gaze, eyes an inferno of desire and demand. She felt fevered, impossibly hot as she backed up. He grabbed her when the backs of her knees hit the mattress, before she could sit and scoot back.

“Not this time. On your knees, Winter.”

She rolled over to her knees, upper body supported by her elbows. She knew he meant it as a kind of punishment, felt his need to prove to her once and for all she wanted more than just easy sex from him. But she also felt his excitement as he circled the bed, as he removed the rest of his clothes. He wanted her, needed her like this. Submissive. Presenting herself for him and only him. The only man who’d ever receive her surrender. She was surprised he saw it that way, would never have reached that conclusion on her own and wasn’t sure she was quite ready to go that far now. She would submit this time, right now, and leave the future to worry about later.

It seemed to be enough for him.

The bed dipped when he climbed on behind her and she held her breath as he moved into position. The head of his erection pushed against her entrance, but he waited, stroked her back and her ass with cool palms. She wanted to push back against him, wanted to demand he take her, but she knew this was a test, knew if she did what she wanted she’d fail and he’d deny her again.

He leaned forward over her back, whispered in her ear as he thrust into her. “See? You can submit.”

Straightening, he gripped her hips and started to move. There was no slow easy buildup. It was fast and hard and rough. And she loved every minute of it, coming almost immediately. He fucked her through it, kept her coming with mental fingers on her clit every time she started to cool down. She was sure she couldn’t take anymore, sure each new orgasm was the one that would kill her.