Tempting the Enemy (19 page)

Tempting the Enemy

himself from biting, but when she rocked back against him, wildly reaching her own completion, all control faded. She cried out, pain and pleasure clear in the ringing sound bouncing off the tiles, one of her hands reaching backward to cup the back of his head. His fangs sank deep into the muscle at her nape, the blinding pleasure coalesced only by the rampage of his climax.

Long moments later, his breathing only starting to return to normal, he realized he’d all but flattened her to the wall of the still-streaming shower. Water pelted their legs, the removable showerhead somehow knocked free in their desperation. His fangs retreated, easing out of her shoulder slowly. He licked the wound, soothing it. It would heal, the enzymes in his saliva speeding the process considerably, but it wouldn’t fade the way her scratches to his side and shoulders already had. When a wound was deep enough, even shifters couldn’t heal them completely. Like the scars on his body from the battles he’d fought to keep his people together, some things cut to the bone.

Or the soul.

He swallowed, the taste of her blood a flavor he took into himself without regret. The last step down the slippery slope. He didn’t bother flogging himself over it.

The line had been crossed. Willfully. He’d belong to her now no matter what. Bonded, connected to her, from this point on. But the circle was incomplete. If there was an emptiness in his heart because of it, that was no fault of hers.

Yet when he released her, backing away so she could breathe, that emptiness bled like acid. She turned, staring at him with something too close to fear to shrug off, her Dee Tenorio

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hand already covering his bite as if she couldn’t believe he’d done it. As if he’d somehow betrayed her trust.

Maybe he had. She didn’t know anything, not what he’d just given her, not what he’d just sacrificed.

Certainly not that there was no way he could ever let her go now.

Yes, he realized, as she walked out of the shower, out of the bathroom and through the door, her heavy braids swaying in opposition to the lush bottom he still wanted to bite. He had betrayed her trust.

He picked up the showerhead, replacing it on the hook on the wall and turned his face into the spray. If only he had the slightest trace of guilt.

He
told
you to leave
, Jade’s conscience reminded her as she grabbed a towel off the rack in the bathroom before leaving.
You should have listened.
She wrapped it around herself, her hand still clamped over the throbbing heat of his bite. And it
was
hot, even to the touch. It stung, but not like a cut. Like a burn.

She crossed to the bed, her legs wobbly and the oddest urge to cry itching her eyes. She sat, but even that wasn’t enough to offset the strangeness, so she lay on her right side, scooping the blanket out from beneath her so she could pull it over her still-moist body. Her braids were probably soaking the pillow, but she didn’t care. She wanted to ball up and sob, and she wasn’t sure why. All she could feel was a yawning emptiness opening inside her.

Why hadn’t he taken her? What was he waiting for?

She’d offered herself. He’d bitten her, marked her, and she’d have to be an idiot to think he didn’t want her. And it wasn’t that she hadn’t given him pleasure that stopped 164

Tempting the Enemy

him. She had yet to find enough strength in her limbs because of the effect they’d had on each other. Even the pain of his bite hadn’t shocked it away. More the opposite, the sense of rightness to it overwhelming, driving her orgasm from startling to almost frightening in its intensity. As if her sense of self had shifted, making room for something more. It was only when it was over, when he let her go, that she realized the something more wasn’t coming.

And when she looked in his eyes, shocked and confused, she saw a gleam of possession…and a world of pain. Whatever she was missing, he was missing too. And he had no intention of telling her what it was.

She felt the indentation of the bed behind her, saying nothing when he shifted the blankets to slide in next to her. His body fit around her like nothing she’d ever expected. All the broad, hard planes of him shouldn’t have fit her so well. Shouldn’t give comfort. But they did, feeding her warmth when she hadn’t realized she was cold.

His big hand covered hers, unclamping her fingers from the tingling bite before he lowered his mouth and licked it again. Gently. Soothing. So at odds with the fury between them when he’d created it. He took his time, each stroke melting her hurt inside as well.

“You weren’t ready,” he finally rumbled, his breath against her ear while he went about pulling her fully into his arms.

But he wasn’t apologizing for whatever it was he’d done.

The towel she’d left wrapped around herself tugged from the back. She glanced down, ignoring the urge to Dee Tenorio

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help him pull it free. Was it the Heat putting her at odds with her own reason, or the man? Rather than deal with the answer, she nestled her head deeper into the pillow.

“You’re nerve-racking, Rysen.”

“I could return the compliment.”

But he wouldn’t. The jerk, he wouldn’t even insult her. Instead, he tugged at the towel again, just once, his finger tucking into the fold of fabric where she held it tightly under her arm. When she didn’t give, he just sighed, running his hand over her shoulder and down her arm before coming back up. Petting her.

Jade’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t say anything.

“Do you plan to be angry for long?”

“I’m not angry.” She wished that long stroke didn’t make her want to snuggle deeper into his chest.

He gave an impolite snort. “Now who’s brooding?”

“Oh, like you’d be any nicer if I bit you.”

His stroke stuttered for a second, the rumble in his chest delineating the pause. “I’d be much nicer, little Wolf.”

The testing pull on her towel had her looking over her shoulder. When it didn’t give, he moved his roving hand up and down the length of her body, his fingers catching on the hem of the towel on the way back up, lifting it a complete three inches before letting it go.

His eyes glowed, molten with a sensuality that rolled like silk in his voice. “So nice you’d never think of leaving me again.”

This time, her breath was what caught. He wanted her to stay? She put her head back on the pillow, deflating when reality kicked in. “I have to go back. It’s where I belong.”

“Are you sure?”

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Tempting the Enemy

She was sure they’d never let her go.

He seemed to sense she wouldn’t answer because he moved on. “Tell me what’s so good about your coven that you won’t leave them.”

“Enclave,” she corrected, sure he was smirking behind her. “We’re not witches.”

“That’s a matter of opinion.”

She had to admit that. People who demanded high payment for talents they could offer freely couldn’t expect affection. Luckily, the Sibile preferred fear.

“I don’t know that it’s good, but it’s home. There are buildings there, most of them hundreds of years old.

Homes and small farms. Animals. If we didn’t come to the city, we’d never know time has moved forward. Apart from the gifts we use, life can be very…simple.” Once a person knew their place in society, it was painfully simple, but she didn’t want to think about that.

“There’s a wealth of knowledge there,” she hurried to bring up, frowning as she realized that her thoughts weren’t positive in the slightest. “Things I can never learn anywhere else.”

Even if that knowledge was incomplete. Edited to put her people in the best light. Or to flat-out lie about them, she acknowledged, thinking of the omissions concerning the Sibile’s help in the shifter genocide.

“Protection,” she added, thinking of the reinforced iron gates and all the power that kept them closed. Power that was a double-edged sword.

“I can protect you.” His tone said he believed it, absolutely.

“My father thought so too,” she answered, knowing it to be true even though she couldn’t remember his voice.

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Couldn’t even remember the lines to his face or the curve of his smile. “He still died, both he and my mother branded traitors for all time.” No one could protect her from that.

“So far, you’re not selling me on the Sibile lifestyle,”

he concluded, a definite pleased note in his deep timbre.

“If you were to stay—”

“I told you, I can’t.”

“But if you did…” He traced designs on her bare shoulder. “Just imagine the possibilities.”

“Oh? Like what? Arguing in parking lots and rolling around in the snow?”

“Like all the hot chocolate you can drink. Being with someone who understands all those things about yourself you pretend aren’t there.”

She leaned back into him, picturing that. Being able to ask questions, not just because he would know the answers but also because she wouldn’t have to fear the repercussions for what those questions implied.

“And it isn’t as if arguing doesn’t have its benefits.

Making up can be fun.”

Jade tilted her head, but he was directly behind her so she couldn’t see his face without rolling over to face him.

She almost didn’t feel the towel slip, baring her back to him. She felt his smile, though, as he nipped at her neck.

Suspicion flared. He was being too nice. Too…seductive.

His urgency was gone, leaving behind a quietly pleased Wolf that she almost didn’t recognize. One who had all the time in the world to touch her.

As if she already belonged to him.

“What are you up to, Rysen?”

“I’m just teaching you to trust me.” His open hand caressed her hip, his thumb extended to smooth the curve 168

Tempting the Enemy

of her bottom. That faint, pleased growl sound came from his chest again. “Learning you.”

He sounded more as if he were enjoying her, but since she could feel the near-singing heat of his erection nudging at the back of her thigh, she wasn’t sure if that was the right word either. Before she could ask for more clarification, he continued with his inquisition. “Is that all there is for you in there? Knowledge and protection? A few animals?”

“No, I have friends.” Sage, irreverent Sage whom Jade hadn’t realized she’d relied on so heavily. She never had to wonder what other people were thinking, since Sage shared without being asked. Jalla, who taught, even when the lessons were frustratingly vague. Like that dream…

“But no family?”

Her thoughts veered away from Jalla’s message like a cart on a rail. “I told you, my parents are dead.”

“You had no other family?”

“Did you?” she asked tightly, rolling onto her back so he couldn’t touch her so freely. She glared up at him.

He didn’t try to keep her in position or complain. He looked down at her, none of the ire she expected in his eyes.

“I find it’s the family you make that matters most,”

he answered, bringing his disturbing touch to her face. He traced her chin, running his fingers to her throat, watching them wander over the swells of her breasts to the line of the towel. His finger hooked the edge again.

“Pull and I’ll bake you alive.”

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A crooked grin revealed one of his fangs. “Strength is a desired trait in a female. Makes a male want to dominate.”

And that grin made her want to be dominated. Her want tightened her throat, because she couldn’t have him knowing what she craved. “Good thing you’re above that kind of stupidity.”

The tip of his finger drew more patterns on her breast, turning the stern tone she’d gone for into a breathless one she’d never used before. He leaned down, brushing her lips with his. Her eyes slid shut against her will. She lifted her head for him, sighing her lips open when he licked at them. His palm slipped under the towel, pushing it out of the way and cupping the mound he found with unmistakable possession.

“Isn’t it though?”

Questions disappeared from her brain, melting like butter in a hot pan, as he took her mouth. His kiss demanded her response, firing her body from its cold tension to languid passion. The towel forgotten, he molded her against him, wrapping himself in her limbs.

Her arms around his neck, her leg over his hip. She arched into him, reveling in the sensation of his skin against hers, his heat and strength beneath her hands. He lay over her, his weight pressing her down into the soft mattress. For a moment, she fought him. Strained to control the embrace, but he surrounded her: his size, his power, his desire.

Every sense she owned filled with him: human, Wolf, Sibile…even simply female, recognizing that he could master her, could break her, but chose not to. That he valued her too much to break her.

Somehow, with that knowledge, that recognition, she felt reassured. Her place next to him inexplicably 170

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outlined. She relaxed, melting into him. With all trace of her argument gone, he simply held her, pulling both of them onto their sides, their hearts beating against each other in slow, even time.

“What just happened?” she asked, confused and content all at once. She didn’t want to move, didn’t want to fight anymore. Her body was lax, as if it were exactly where it was supposed to be and if it had its way, she’d never move again.

“You yielded,” he said, which didn’t make her feel better but seemed to please him in a way nothing else she’d said ever had. The rumble was back. He settled his back on the bed, pulling her halfway over him, her cheek to his heart. His hand swept up and down her bare back.

“For future reference…
this
is helping.”

Helping what, she couldn’t decide, but rather than feeling the Heat drawing her, she felt sleep wrapping tightly around them both. Peaceful, healing sleep. And when she gave in this time, there were no dreams at all.

Chapter Twelve

Become light.

Jalla’s whispered voice snapped Jade’s lids open on a gasp. Just as quickly, she already knew that Rysen was gone from the room. She blinked at the light sneaking through the thick curtains, rolling toward his side of the bed.