Master of Fire (25 page)

Giada arched backward, grabbed her ankles, forced herself down, then dragged herself up, tormenting both her own tight, creamy flesh and Logan’s thick cock with sizzling pulses of delight.

It felt like something huge was gathering deep in her womb, some exotic blend of magic and sex, furious and wild as a thunderstorm, all crackling tension straining to escape. She needed to free it, had to, but she couldn’t quite . . .

As if he sensed her desperation, Logan’s big hands grabbed her hips and pulled her down, only to push her back up as they rolled and ground and strove together, trying to force that last little bit that would . . .

“Yes!” It was a scream of relief as much as climax, blending with Logan’s roar of pleasure.

Giada’s scream spiraled into a shriek as the magic exploded in her belly, jerking her back like a bow as the first desperate pulses poured out of her body. And into his.

The magic went on and on, jolt after blazing jolt, rippling through her body in long contractions, forcing itself into him until he convulsed, his big body writhing under hers.

Giada looked down. Magic danced around him in a whirlwind of energy, hot and golden, growing brighter and brighter with each pulse from her core.

Until all she could make out was furiously boiling energy in the rough shape of Logan MacRoy.

Even as the half-fearful thought flashed through her mind, another magical detonation shook her, one even more furious than those that had come before.

The force of the spell shot through her so hard, it picked her up and threw her like a rag doll. She landed in a heap, dazed and blinded.

When she lifted her head, she saw Logan shining like a star fallen to Earth.

Which was when he began to scream.

Every muscle of
Logan’s body cramped and jolted as wave after wave of magic poured through him. Giada’s power had triggered Merlin’s Gift, and now it was tearing through his body, remaking every cell.

Pain flared along his nerves, as searing as the white-hot pleasure of orgasm. His vision became a curtain of blinding gold.

A subjective eternity went by before the pain began to fade, the pulses of magic slowing as his body completed its transformation. The golden energy began to drain away, leaving him lying limp on the comforter, legs and arms still twitching helplessly from the final spasms.

Blinking, dazed, Logan saw stars burning overhead, brighter than he’d ever seen them. That damn mermaid seemed to be singing directly in his ear in high and piercing notes. He turned his head to look for her, but there was nothing there except the ocean, flinging itself in curling whitecaps that beat against the sand.

The night seemed much brighter, more like twilight than full dark. And the ocean roared like a storm, all thunder and wind.

“Giada?” he rasped. Clearing his raw throat, he tried again. “Giada?”

“Ummm. Yeah?” She sounded as hoarse as he did. Probably because she was shouting. Had she gone a little deaf?

Turning his head, he spotted her at last, lying half-off the comforter as if something had picked her up and thrown her. She sprawled there, naked and sweating, looking just as dazed as he felt. “You okay?” he managed.

“Think so.” She licked her lips and stirred weakly. “You?” He considered the question for a long moment. “Don’t know. That was . . . nastier than I expected.”

“I don’t remember my transformation being this violent.” Odd, she didn’t look as if she was shouting, but her voice rang as if amplified. “It . . . hurt, but not like this.”

A fragment of remembered conversation crossed his mind. “Lance told me once that getting a Magus’s Gift is rougher than the Maja version. Probably because it changes our bodies more than yours.”

They fell silent, panting together. Even their breathing seemed loud. And the mermaid’s music had acquired a percussion section, a thunderous
thump thump thump
that gradually slowed, settled into a slower rhythm.

Except the sound wasn’t a drumbeat, Logan realized as he recognized it at last.

Heartbeats. Hers and his.
He could hear their hearts beating
, even over the sighing thunder of the ocean.

His hearing had become far more sensitive. All his senses had sharpened, which was why the night seemed so bright.

Wondering, Logan spread his fingers across the comforter. He could feel each fiber beneath his fingers. And the air smelled of salt and wind and . . . something delicious. Sex and magic and blood.

And woman.

Giada.

His limp cock stirred on his belly. Something else moved in his mouth. Frowning, Logan ran his tongue along his teeth. Fangs. He had fangs. They’d emerged at the scent of Giada on the wind.

Yeah,
he thought.
I’m a vampire.

He caught his breath as a sudden compulsion engulfed him—the need to touch Giada, to drink in her scent and taste her skin. He rolled over onto his hands and knees, felt the distinct tremble in his thighs, and decided he wasn’t up to standing.

So he crawled.

Still looking a little dazed, she watched him come. The closer he got, the stronger her seductive scent grew. When he reached her at last, he cuddled in against her side and buried his nose in her hair to drink in that intoxicating smell.

His cock, stone-hard again, nudged her hip. He shuddered. Her skin felt impossibly fine-grained against his body, like sun-warmed silk.

Almost as intrigued as he was aroused, Logan touched her, stroking his fingertips over her delicate nipples, across the jut of her hip and the soft flesh between her thighs. The beat of her heart picked up speed, taking on urgency with every thump. The perfume of her body intensified, his cock jerking in reaction.

And his fangs ached, as demanding as his erection. Hungry for her.

 

 

Giada caught her
breath as Logan stroked her, his gaze wondering, as if he’d never touched a woman before. Amazement softened his dark eyes and the line of his mouth. His nostrils flared, as if to drink in the smell of her skin, her hair. He lowered his head and licked one nipple, then sighed in pleasure at the taste.

“You remind me of a cat in catnip,” Giada told him, and giggled as he found a particularly sensitive spot with his fingers.

“I feel like one, too.” He nuzzled her breast, then cupped it. “The way you smell. The way you taste. I’ve never experienced anything like it.” He took her nipple into his mouth and began to suck. His eyelids drifted shut, his expression one of pure delight.

After the physical storm of his transition, she’d have thought herself too drained for arousal. Yet each touch, each flick of his tongue, each caress sent another hot little flame licking along her nerves. Giada squirmed at the growing heat. “Logan . . .” She reached for him.

His hands snapped around her wrists, pinning them to the comforter as he reared over her. A low, feral growl sounded, more like Smoke’s than anything human. His gaze burned into hers as he settled between her legs. With a moan of helpless arousal, she hooked her ankles over his butt, opening herself for him.

He drove into her, the thrust jolting her. Giada caught her breath. He filled her so mercilessly full. His cock felt hot within her, and his big body surrounded her in heat and strength.

Logan began to stroke, long, deep, hard. Still holding her wrists pinned, he settled against her, so close she could feel his breath on her throat. His lips opened, and she felt the prick of fangs.
He’s going to bite me
, she thought, surprised when the idea brought only a thrill of arousal. She threw back her head, inviting him to do whatever he wanted. “Yes,” she whispered. “Do it. Do it now.”

And he was gone.

Startled, Giada lifted her head, feeling suddenly cold without his heat. The sea wind raised goose bumps across her naked body. “Logan?”

It took her a moment to spot him. He stood at the edge of the water, wavelets foaming around his ankles. His shoulders looked tight as bridge cables, and his hands were fisted at his sides.

She sat up and flipped one corner of the comforter over her body, seeking its warmth as she frowned at him. “What’s the matter?”

“I almost
bit
you.” He sounded shaken.

“Uh, yeah. You’re a vampire. It comes with the territory.”

He turned, and she frowned at the torment on his face. “What if I hurt you?”

“You won’t. Besides, I’m a Maja.” She grinned, trying to lighten the moment. “If you do something I don’t like, I can turn you into a frog.”

“You don’t understand.” Despite his obvious worry, his cock bobbed, still fully erect. When he spoke, she saw the tips of his fangs. “I don’t just want you. Giada, I
hunger
for you.”

“Good. I hunger for you right back.”

Logan whirled to face the ocean as if he didn’t trust himself to look at her any longer. “For God’s sake, put on some clothes. My control isn’t that good.” His voice dropped. “And you’re too damned beautiful.”

Giada blinked, impossibly flattered. There was no doubt he meant every word. She opened her mouth to say something flip, then frowned and shut it again. His hands were shaking, and it looked as if every muscle in his body was drawn tight in his battle for control.

By all rights, she should be afraid. After all, he was a big, powerful man even for a human. As a vampire, he had superhuman strength he hadn’t yet learned to control. Between that and the fact that the hunger of new vampires was powerful enough to drive some of them mad . . .

She really should be afraid.

But she wasn’t. Now all she had to do was convince him to trust himself as much as she did. Which was more than a little ironic, since she’d told him not an hour ago that she didn’t trust him.

Seems she’d lied to both of them.

“Logan.” Giada moved up behind him and touched his strong, naked back. He trembled under her hand.

“Giada,
please.
” He gritted the words through set teeth. “Gate out. Gate out now. I don’t want to hurt you, dammit.”

“You won’t.”

He shot a tormented look over his shoulder at her. “I could.” His eyes caught the moonlight, flashing red.

“Yeah, you could. But you won’t.” Giada looked up at him, hoping her serene certainty showed on her face. “I
know
you, Logan. You’re a strong man, a good man, and you won’t lose control.”

He stared at her. “You sound so damned sure.”

“Because I am. Your body may have changed, but Merlin’s Gift didn’t touch your soul. You’re still the same man you’ve always been. Just like your father.”

As she spoke, his gaze dropped to her throat and lingered there, hunger flashing nakedly across his face. He dragged his eyes away. “I’m not my father. I’ve never been that strong.”

“Oh, bullshit.”

He blinked, startled at the uncharacteristic curse, and looked at her just as she’d intended.

“You just transformed, Logan. You’re hungry because your body needs blood.”

“I’ll go to the Lords’ Club.” A muscle flexed in his jaw, and he turned to stare at the horizon again. “They’ve got bottled blood there.”

“Bottled blood won’t work for your first time. You don’t just need blood, you need the magic you’ll get from me. You
know
that.” She took a step closer until one bare breast brushed his arm. “Just as you know Majae need to donate blood as much as vampires need to drink it. I haven’t donated in weeks.”

He frowned, dragged out of his absorption with his own transformed body. “Giada, that’s dangerous. You’ve got to at least bottle it every couple of weeks, or you could end up having a stroke.”

“Exactly.” Deliberately, she laid a hand on his shoulder. His skin felt almost hot enough to burn, blazing with a fever of need. “That’s why I want to give it to you. Now.”

Logan had never felt such hunger. His hands shook with the driving need to take her, to press his fangs into her throat and feel her blood fill his mouth. To gulp hot red life from her veins.

He thought of the junkies he’d met in his law enforcement career—people willing to whore or steal or kill for whatever drug held them in thrall. He’d always felt nothing but contempt for those people.

Now he understood. And he realized the only difference between them and him was he’d never known that kind of razor-blade need.

Now he did.

He thought about all the debased things he’d seen junkies do—the lies, the casual betrayals of family and friends and lovers. A junkie’s drug was a jealous god that permitted no love of anyone or anything else.

Which was why he had to get the hell away from Giada and her soft, tempting throat. He turned and started to walk away, ignoring his body’s frustrated howl of need.

“Damn you, Logan MacRoy.” He’d never heard her sound so furious, not even when she’d thrown him out of her house.

He kept going.

The spell hit him in an explosion of sparks. The next thing he knew, he lay spread-eagled in the middle of the comforter. He tried to roll to his feet again, only to find himself pinned.

He lifted his head to see bands of golden light binding his wrists and ankles. “What the fuck is this?”

Giada walked over to stand over him, her fists propped on her hips, irritation on her lovely face. “What does it look like, you big idiot?”

To his horror, she straddled his hips and coolly settled herself on top of him. Sweeping her hair aside with one hand, she positioned herself so that her throat touched his mouth. Every square inch of the rest of her lay spread over him—soft naked breasts pressing against his chest, her wet sex against his erect cock, her long legs clasping his hips.

His body roared. Fangs, cock, demon hunger all clamoring to
take her now.