A Dark Kiss of Rapture (6 page)

“You’ll come until you can’t take anymore,”
he promised, feeling his fangs lengthen within his gums. Lifting
his hips, he withdrew then pushed deep again.

“Harder, Raze. Give it to me hard.”

Delicate muscles rippled along his length,
driving him crazy. Grinding his teeth, he fought the need to fuck
her without restraint. He wanted to drag out the moment as long as
possible, create memories for both of them of a hungry need so
powerful they’d reverberate for years.

“Not yet.” He slid in and out, his hips
working in a smooth, leisurely tempo. “Slow and easy now. Feel me.
Feel what you do to me. How damned hard you make me. As much as
I’ve had you tonight, I still ache for more.”

Her head pressed into the pillows,
unconsciously arching her neck at the perfect angle for the
penetration of his fangs. “Yes. More.”

Anchoring her hip with one hand, he fisted
her hair in the other, holding her immobile. The pulse in her
throat throbbed wildly, her heart pounding as he dominated her
completely. His tongue stroked over her madly pumping vein,
plumping it. He sucked gently on the skin, bringing it closer to
the surface. Her sex tightened around him.

“You feel so good,” he groaned, nuzzling the
spot beneath her ear. “I could stay right here forever.”

“Raze, please... I need—”

The first spasms of her climax fisted his
dick and his control snapped. He struck deep into her vein, his
eyes rolling back as the intoxicating flavor of her blood flooded
his mouth. The ecstasy of his bite burned through her and she
screamed, her body quaking with the force of her orgasm.

He was right there with her, coming as hard
as if he hadn’t come all night, his body inundated with ecstasy and
the power of her blood.

Then the deluge of her memories hit him with
the force of a sledgehammer to the face.

* * *

Kim lay with her cheek on Raze’s shoulder
and her arm draped across his hard chest. Her fingers drifted idly
up and down the bulge of his biceps. Draped along his side with one
leg tucked between his, she listened to the steady beat of his
heart and thought about how none of this night had gone as she’d
expected it to.

She had set out with the intention of
getting drunk, so she could sleep without having to take a sleeping
pill. Then she’d seen Raze and figured they’d screw each other into
exhaustion. Which they had, but she had pictured more of a rolling,
clawing, pounding rut. On the floor maybe. Or the couch if they got
that far. She hadn’t pictured a bed. She hadn’t imagined
luxuriating in each other. She certainly hadn’t thought about
cuddling afterwards.

There’s something here
, she thought.
Something that could become important to both of them.

“Kim.” His fingers were sifting through her
horribly tangled hair. His other hand was splayed over her
back.

“Hmm?” She snuggled closer. Everything about
the way he touched her made her feel good. Hell, he’d sucked on her
neck and she’d had the orgasm of her life. None of the hickies
she’d gotten in high school had ever revved her engine, let alone
blown the top of her head off.

“Would you tell me why you cried when you
first got here?”

She stiffened, unprepared for the
question.

“Shh.” He pressed his lips to her crown.
“You don’t have to.”

“No. It’s okay.” After a shaky breath, she
told him, stumbling over the words a little because she hadn’t
talked about it since the police questioned her. Saying the words
brought the painful and horrifying pictures in her mind to life,
making her relive the agony of finding her home a bloodbath and her
dearest friend lying in the gore like a rag doll. The tears came
with the words until she was sobbing violently.

Raze rolled carefully, covering her with his
body in a hot, hard blanket of powerful male. He tucked her under
him, sheltering her, his cheek pressed to hers and his arms caging
her shoulders. The quiet strength of him sank into her, shoring her
up. Anchoring her. She didn’t have to be strong for him. She didn’t
have to hide her pain to make it easier for him. She didn’t need to
shield her grief behind a smile so he’d think everything was all
right.

He didn’t say anything, which was such a
gift. She wondered if he knew that or if it was just his way. His
was an old soul. She’d sensed that from the moment their eyes had
met.

Eventually, Kim quieted, her heart feeling
so much lighter that she might’ve shed a tear over it, if she’d had
any tears left.

“There’s a lot of shit in this world,” he
said, kissing her softly. “I’m sorry you had to experience any of
it.”

Cupping his cheeks, she lifted his head and
looked into his eyes. “You experience a lot of it, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” He rolled to his back and heaved out
a sigh. “I have to wade through some of it today. Can I see you
tonight?”

Delight fluttered through her tummy. “Would
you like to come to my place? I can make dinner.”

He looked at her with those amber eyes and
smiled wryly. “I have some unusual dietary restrictions. How about
movies instead? I’ll bring over one of my favorites and you pick
out another one of yours. I’ll feed you while we watch the
shows.”

“Okay.”

“Okay? Really? That’s good?”

She bent over and nudged his nose with her
own, hiding a smile over his startled wonder. One could almost
think he’d never planned a date before. “It’s great. You’re
great.”

He answered that with an exuberant kiss.

CHAPTER 6

Raze had been wandering around the city for
half the day when he picked up a tail. He took a circuitous route
to be sure and when he was, he pulled out his cell phone and called
Vashti. “Problem.”

“Hopefully I’ve got a solution.”

“It’s two o’clock in the afternoon and I’ve
got a minion sniffing after me.”

There was silence, then a whistle. “Well,
that’s interesting.”

“It’s scary as fuck and you know it.” Only
the Fallen could take sunlight; minions were mortally
photosensitive. The only exceptions were minions who’d recently
drank Fallen blood, which afforded them temporary immunity that
would last seventy-two hours at most. “We have a full accounting of
the Fallen?”

“I’ll double-check, but I can’t think of
anyone in that area aside from you.”

“Let me know what you hear. In the meantime,
I’m going to have a little chat with my shadow and see what I can
shake loose.” He killed the call and shoved his phone in his
pocket.

A group of teenagers exited a store in front
of him, clogging up the sidewalk and providing the distraction he
needed. Darting behind them, he entered the store and shot out the
rear delivery entrance. He found himself in a small alley lined
with trash and dumpsters and framed above by fire escapes. Leaping
the two story distance to the first escape ledge, Raze settled in
to wait, knowing his tail would eventually follow his scent.

Ten minutes later, a tiny brunette stepped
out of the shop into the alley. He took a deep breath and smelled
vampire. Crouching, he prepared to jump when it struck him that she
wouldn’t be alone. She would be half of a pair.

He hopped down and blocked the swing of her
fist, then shielded his groin when she attempted to take him down
with a knee to the nuts. She pressed on, raining blows and kicks,
which he deflected with greater speed, his forearms parrying jabs
so quickly that to a mortal eye he would’ve seemed to be no more
than a blur. He waited for the perfect opening and took it,
stunning her with a blow to the neck and catching her in a
headlock. Spinning her around, he caged her with her back to his
chest.

He yanked her head to the side and bit deep.
Her memories flooded into him along with her blood, giving him all
the answers he needed... except for where to find Francesca. The
baroness had gone under, contacting her minions via phone or email.
His fangs retracted and he was licking the tiny wounds closed when
her mate rushed into the alley.

“Behave, Lake,” Raze warned her softly,
puzzled by some of what he’d read in her mind. “Or I’ll tell him
about your little piece of ass on the side.”

She stilled, breathing roughly.

Her partner, Forest—how sickeningly sweet
was the deliberate pairing of
those
names?—froze at the
sight of his woman helpless in Raze’s arms. “Hurt her and die.”

Raze grinned, but noted the shine of feral
madness in the minion’s eyes. He’d seen inside Lake’s mind and knew
what these two did on their dates—blood and pain were their
aphrodisiacs. “I won’t hurt her... yet. But I’ve got her scent and
I’ve drank her blood. I could find her in the Times Square crowd on
New Year’s Eve. Think about that.”

Forest’s hands clenched and unclenched
rhythmically. “What do you want?”

“Take a message back to the baroness. Tell
her to quit dicking around and face me. I have places to go, rogues
to kill. I can’t hang around Chicago indefinitely.”

“You’d fight a woman? A lady. One of your
own kind.” Forest began to shift restlessly, licking his lips. His
eyes were lit with a sick hunger. It seemed Forest found it
arousing to watch his woman manhandled roughly.

It was a terrible fact that the majority of
minions lost their minds after the Change. Mortals weren’t designed
to live without their souls and the Change took that from them. If
it were up to the Fallen—who were the source of the dark gift—only
carefully selected mortals would be Changed, but vampirism was like
a secret shared only with trusted friends, who in turn shared it
only with their most trusted friends, and so on. The spread had
long ago become uncontrollable as the unstable minions began to
Change others indiscriminately. It was Adrian’s job to mitigate the
fallout, an endless mission that pitted the Sentinels against the
Fallen in a contentious battle of wills.

“The baroness is no lady,” Raze shot back.
“I’ve watched a video of her slicing an innocent man
open—alive—while humming a merry tune. She can do that, she can
fight me. So give her my message: I’m not wasting my time hunting
someone who hides behind their minions. She’s got forty-eight hours
to take me on or I’m passing her off to Adrian.”

“I’ll tell her.” Forest smiled with eager
malice.

Raze shoved the vampress forward into her
mate. “I’ll be seeing you two again.”

Hopping back onto the fire escape, he
climbed to the roof and set off from there.

* * *

“No way.” Delia planted herself on one of
Kim’s kitchen island barstools and shook her head emphatically.
“Guys that look like Biker Boy are personality deficient. That’s
the trade-off for the hotness—they’re self-absorbed jerks.”

Kim smiled and continued putting groceries
away. “You’re right. Absolutely. Except for Raze.”

“There has to be something wrong with
him.”

“Yeah... He doesn’t live in Chicago.”

“He snores.”

“Nope.” Although she realized she’d never
been awake while he was sleeping. “Actually, I’m not sure.”

“So that’s a maybe. He’s an early
ejaculator.”

Kim laughed until her eyes got teary. “Oh my
god... No. Definitely no.”

“Being good in bed is a challenge to him.
He’s a womanizer who views sex like a sport—all technique and no
heart.”

“He’s not the least bit detached. In fact,
part of what I loved about sleeping with him was how into it he
got. Like having sex with me was toe-curlingly, eye-rollingly good.
As for being a womanizer... Yes. Probably. He was going to screw
somebody last night. I was just lucky enough that it ended up being
me.”

“So, there’s another con—a pretty big
one—right there. Does he talk about himself constantly?”

“He doesn’t talk about himself at all.”

Delia’s sloe eyes narrowed behind her
glasses. “Maybe he’s married.”

“Married to his job. Trust me, I know the
type. I lived with two cops.”

“Self-centered? You had to spell things out
for him to get yours.”

“He knew what I needed before I did. He
noticed my goose bumps for chrissakes.” Kim shut the fridge door
and returned to the island, curling her hands around the bullnosed
edge. “It’s going to sound corny, but it’s like he’s totally in
tune with me. He knew when I was hot or cold. He knew where to
touch me, how to touch me, how long to touch me... Jesus, I cried
all over him about Janelle and he didn’t freak out. He didn’t tell
me everything was all right or ask me to stop crying. He didn’t go
into another room or make noises about it being time for me to
go.”

“Damn it.” Delia pouted. “That’s so not
fair. I blew him off and you reeled in Mr. Awesome Sauce.”

“I’d apologize, but I wouldn’t be
sincere.”

Delia smiled. “I’m glad he’s not a serial
killer.”

“Me, too.” Although he just might slay her
when all was said and done. She’d been thinking about him all day,
thinking about things she wanted to do with him, places she wanted
to take him. Like her favorite pizza shop. And the Field Museum,
where he could see the real lions from
The Ghost and the
Darkness
.

“You’ve got bags under your eyes, Kimmy
girl, but you look all happy and glow-y. I’m really glad about
that.”

“I haven’t felt this good in a long time,”
she admitted, tidying up the countertop because she wanted Raze to
like her place and feel comfortable in it. “A part of me thinks
that’s stupid. I’m a mature, successful, professional woman. I
shouldn’t have such a crazy mood boost over a guy I’ve known less
the twenty-four hours. But that’s the way it is. I needed him and
he was there.”

Delia tucked a strand of her chin-length
hair behind her ear. “What will you do if you still need him after
he’s gone?”