Raging Passions (6 page)

Reluctantly, she complied. She left the door open. Rage had never been with Ripper when she didn’t fight him fang and claw, but her rage, the staff of much of her vampire strength until now, had evaporated. Before Ripper, she felt naked, vulnerable.

Ripper drew an arm from behind his head and held it out to her.
A request.

As he reached for her, Rage felt her heart recoil. A flicker of his power licked at her. Her arm even began to rise and her weight shifted as if to approach, but then she stopped herself. For all these years, even when they’d been intimate physically, her rage kept them apart emotionally. She’d felt powerful, knowing that the only way he could have her was by magical force. It was his right as her master to have her. But she never surrendered and that gave her rage a sense of satisfaction.

Her rage had been her armor. Keeping everyone outside, so they could not hurt her the way she’d been hurt before. The way Caden had hurt her. A wound that cut through the heart so wickedly that it seemed as if it might never heal.

Without her rage she was vulnerable.
Exposed.
Susceptible.

Ripper didn’t need to use more than a flicker of the Summoning on her to make her want to climb into his embrace. Their relationship was atypical for vampires. Most master vampires took marginal interest in their Offspring, using the Summoning power over them rarely. It was far simpler to destroy them and be done with it. While Ripper had his moments of anger, he truly had never harmed her. While he would lash out at his other Offspring, he tolerated her resistance when he was within his rights to slay her for it. Instead he would use the Summoning to force her compliance so he could almost pretend it was her truly giving him what he desired.

Even now, the longing on his ever-so-young-looking face frightened Rage. He’d had no other lovers since he claimed her. He’d not even rebirthed another female Offspring. Why he’d chosen her, why he kept trying to reach a compromise with her, she could not begin to guess. But he did. Ripper gave her very little leash, wanting Rage as close to him as possible. Even having her own room had taken her over a year of bargaining and threats while most masters neither expected nor wanted their Offspring in their private chambers.

Rage turned from Ripper before his power could compel her to his bed. She felt weakened since seeing Caden.
Unsure of so much.
Too fragile to endure another encounter with Ripper.
Before she rotated completely, the door closed before her. Ripper stood directly behind her, his body nuzzled up against her back and her thighs. His arms barred her between him and the door. With the flat of his palm pressed against the door on either side of her, his fingers arched and the tips whitened as he clawed into the wood. His breathing stirred her hair at the base of her neck and sent a shiver through her blood that drew her body back into his so her bottom curved into his lap.

When she responded to him even in that slight way and didn’t immediately retreat, Rage felt Ripper’s sudden stillness. He sensed the transformation in her. As her master, he would smell it in her blood, standing this close. Not to mention the scent of sex from her encounter with Caden. She hadn’t considered that until this moment, not that she and Ripper had an exclusive sexual arrangement. Slowly, he drew one hand up to her shoulder and brushed her hair from her throat. His nose nuzzled into the curve of her neck just beneath her ear and inhaled. He slid his hand from her shoulder, down in a slow, tickling glide across the swells of her breasts that crested over the top of her red leather halter and back up to her other shoulder. The hold, while still loose, was gently possessive. With the slightest flex of his muscles he could have had her in a headlock, but he didn’t. He never used physical force with her.

Ripper rested his forehead against the back of her head as though weary. “Can’t you just once love me without making me force you?”

Such sadness.
Such need.
The strain in his voice revealed the depth of his pain. A pain he seemed to think only her love could salve.

Weakening to the rising compassion inside, Rage felt the wispy fog of Ripper’s vampire magic penetrating the flaws in her emotional armor. His power soaked into her.
Compelled her.
Rage whispered his name, “Ripper.” The single word held volumes. Glancing back, she was devastated by his light blue eyes. They saw her, the real woman who’d been cloaked with anger so long she almost forgot how to feel anything else. Defenseless now, Ripper finally dominated her as he had always wished but never quite achieved before.

Ripper watched her a moment longer before slowly lowering his mouth to hers. His lips were warm and gentle, as if asking for her to deepen it. Arching back, Rage accepted him into her mouth and stroked his tongue with hers. Slowly, with each tease and taste, the kiss heightened.

Careful to not break the melding of their mouths, Ripper turned Rage in his arms. The door behind her supported her as Ripper kissed her with a force of passion that would have knocked her over otherwise. His hands closed around her narrow, bare waist and his needful massaging tightened her nipples.

Rage cupped his beautiful face. Her fingers spiked into his soft hair and her thumbs caressed his cheeks. The Kinsman was one hell of a kisser, and for the first time ever she lost herself in the enjoyment of his skill. She wanted him as fiercely as she’d ever desired anyone before. His magic had her fully, carrying her to heights of desire so dizzying that she could barely catch her breath. There was nothing outside this room. He had her and it felt amazing.

Reaching lower, Ripper’s groping hand closed around her thigh. Slipping up the silk of the fishnet stockings, he sparked heat and excitement in her core. He traced the lacy top of the thigh-high, found the strap of the garter and with his fingers curled around it he followed it up, leaving a burning trail of excitement on her skin. Before he reached the top, he detoured to touch her intimately. She wasn’t wearing panties. Easily his finger delved into her moist heat.

Gasping, Rage arched into Ripper’s touch. Her body gripped him, on the verge of a full spasm. Her very blood awoke with fire and need. She could feel it coursing through her, soaking the sexual stimulation into every muscle, every cell. Every beat of her heart caused the sensation to build.

She’d heard that the touch of one’s master could surpass any other sexual experience. Fighting Ripper had prevented her from experiencing him fully. And now, drugged with his magic, Rage moaned wantonly into Ripper’s mouth.

Drawing back from the kiss, Ripper watched her face as his touch stroked deeper into her pussy. Rage rode his caress, clutching to Ripper’s shoulders until the material of the shirt bunched beneath her curled fingers. Rising to meet each delving stroke, Rage tossed her head back and cried out.

As he performed magic with his fingers, Ripper unzipped the halter and discarded it with his other hand. Rage helped him, not wanting anything to cause him to stop pleasing her. He closed his strong hand over her full breast and rolled her tight nipple with his thumb. With a voice as smooth and powerful as distant rolling thunder, he observed, “You are enjoying my touch.”

Rage’s eyes fluttered back in her head as she gasped. The swirling rhythm he set rang through her body like the beat of a drum. “Yes,” she whimpered. “Oh yes.”

Moving too quickly for Rage to follow, Ripper swept her onto his bed. His pants were gone. So was her skirt. His silk shirt remained, open and hanging from his shoulders, but it didn’t get in the way. He was poised at her entrance, with her legs hooked behind his knees. Lying on top of her, Ripper propped himself on his elbows so he could toy with her hair. His sculpted abs and chest covered her.

Ripper lowered his head to her breast and dragged his tongue across her stiff nipple, shooting needles of joy through her entire chest. He glanced up at her. “Say you want me.”

Ripper only used the slightest influence of power on her, and she wanted Ripper to fill her body just like he was suddenly filling her soul. Her protections were gone.
Forgotten.
There was only Ripper.
Ripper and his pain.
His need filled her, becoming her need. Fulfillment hung so close and yet not realized. Rage whimpered, “I want you, Ripper.”

With a feral growl he flexed his hips forward, plunging inside her. Rage embraced Ripper so tightly she could barely breathe, let alone scream from the massive intensity of his body filling hers. With each slide, with each penetration he made her more his. His power left no shred of her unscathed. It was her body, her heart that betrayed her. Rage gave herself to Ripper just as he’d always wanted.

Ripper closed his lips around the pulse in her throat. As he moved like music in and out of her, he pricked her flesh and then licked away the seeping blood. His tongue probed at his bite marks to keep them from closing, but each lick and taste sent a flurry of excited chills through Rage.

Clutching to him, Rage could no longer contain the pleasure building with volcanic force. Her pussy flamed to life, gripping Ripper’s cock with her immense joy. She came for him in waves that lifted her against him. Cradling her head, he drew her mouth to his. He kissed her wildly as her body spent itself. The taste of her own blood was still on his tongue as he consumed her with his needful kiss. When his body convulsed with his own orgasm, he slammed himself vigorously into her and brought Rage a second time until she felt as if her soul turned into liquid and poured itself over him. Their united release flared their bonded blood, their connection as Offspring and master, opening a momentary door between their souls, revealing each of them completely to the other.

Their eyes locked as the mental connection slowly closed like an iris. Still hard, still inside her, Ripper said, “You love Caden.”

And she did.

He’d seen the truth at the very heart of her being that Rage hadn’t been willing to admit. What she’d refused to accept since Caden’s betrayal.
Always had.
Right or wrong, she always would.

As dangerous as it was for Ripper to know that secret, it was what she’d seen in his soul that surprised and worried her.

Chapter Five

At one o’clock in the afternoon, the clan house was as quiet as it was going to be. Most of the Kinsmen and Offspring would be sleeping away the daylight hours. But not Rage. On light feet, she descended the steps and made her way silently to the main floor. The stretchy, hip-hugger, black pants cut off just below the knee and didn’t rustle when she moved. Her soft tennis shoes made not a whisper on the deep carpet. The tee shirt was a tummy flasher, not extending more than a few inches from the bottom curve of her breasts where it clung. Nothing she wore would make the slightest rustling sound. She’d braided back her hair to keep it out of her face. While she told herself she just didn’t want to disturb anyone, Rage hadn’t dressed in fighting clothes for nothing. The clothes not only didn’t make a sound, but they allowed her full range of unrestricted movement. And while she wasn’t as impressive as Shade in the arena, she knew how to hold her own.

Morgana’s suite filled the small wing that jutted out the back of the mansion. To reach her chamber Rage poised at the entrance to the greenhouse. Dappled sunlight peeked through the curtain of ivy that overgrew the glass walls and ceiling. Shade-loving plants grew in a thick jungle on every table and from dozens of hanging planters dangling from the exposed rafters. Even though the greenhouse was just twelve feet across, Rage cringed back from the flecks of sunshine glittering on the flowers and leaves filling the space.

Rage balanced on the balls of her feet, contemplating rushing across the dangerous lances of acidic sunlight. Her gaze flickered around, searching for something to spare her the flash burns. Metal plates hung in rows along the rafters, forming shutters. Following the exposed mechanism, Rage tracked the control to chains dangling by the doors on either end. She pulled on the chain experimentally and the shutters closed smoothly.

Not trusting the shutters or the shade they provided, Rage jogged to the far side. She huddled close to the opposite door. The handle would not turn. Frantically she rapped on the door. The warm summer smell of the garden, once so familiar and friendly, held more dread for her than the dungeon. At least there was no sun in the dungeon.

Morgana opened the door. With just one look at Rage, she ushered the younger vampire inside. “Your vexation must be acute for you to venture to my abode at this unearthly hour.” She smiled, knowingly. “You’ve come to a decision about your human?”

Rage slipped deeper into the shadows of the parlor. “Sort of, but that is not exactly why I am here.” Her fingers rubbed over the sweat in her palms. Had it been the heat of the sunlight so nearby that made her sweat? Or just nerves? She scrubbed her palms against her pants to dry them.

Morgana closed the door. In a flutter of silky robe and nightgown, she swept like a ghost to the settee. Her pale hands folded ladylike into her lap. Her nails were unpainted but finely manicured to feminine but dangerous tips. Rage sat down briskly across from Morgana, her nerves uncamouflaged. Her words rushed out much more haphazardly and indelicately than she’d rehearsed. “I know I can’t be the first who has ever asked you this, but…how can an Offspring escape her master’s will?”

Morgana shifted from sitting forward to lounging back in the settee. Her eyes glittered as the conversation veered from the direction that she’d expected. “I am assuming you mean in a way other than death.”

Blinking at the shocking reply, Rage nodded. “I prefer not to die, yes.”

“I mean Ripper’s death, love.”

“Oh.” Rage hadn’t even considered that recourse. “Yes.
Other than death.”

Morgana relaxed. Rage hadn’t even noticed how stiff the other woman had become. Rage thought of Morgana as a friend to the Offspring. She’d not even considered that Ripper and Morgana were also clan mates, with an obligation to defend each other, mainly for mutual survival. Lone vampires were far more vulnerable to the dangers of the various dark creatures that shared the night. Apparently Morgana took that clan bond seriously. For Rage’s sake, she’d answered the question satisfactorily. If she hadn’t Morgana could have disemboweled her right there for her defiance. Morgana continued as if Rage hadn’t just nearly stumbled into her doom. “And you don’t wish to be rebirthed as another Kinsman’s Offspring, I gather.”