Belonging (18 page)

“Oh,” she breathlessly replied. He rocked his hips, the head of his cock slipping in between her wet folds, still dripping with his come. Her head fell back, a moan escaping her parted lips. She was fucking perfection in every way.

One thrust and he’d hit the end of her womb, able to penetrate deeply in this position. He was getting ready to do just that when a knock echoed in the main room.

“
Sire, Katrina and I are here with the clothes you requested.”
Devlin.

Christ
.

In her lust-filled haze, Analise hadn’t noticed the knock and she was now rocking to get him further inside her. He groaned, pulling out. “Someone’s here, kitten. Go jump in the shower and I’ll be right back. It’s your clothes. We’ll finish this later.” He kissed her passionately, hinting at where they would pick up later.

Easily lifting her from his lap, he set her on her feet and swatting her butt, pointed toward the bathroom. “Shower.”

He could tell she held back a smart-ass retort, instead sauntering slowly into the expansive bathroom. She was definitely exaggerating the swing of her very fine ass. He was so tempted to punish her cheekiness, but they needed to get going.

Instead, he called, “You’re going to pay for that, kitten.”

Her laugh followed him all the way out of the bedroom.

C
hapter
26

Mike

He sat on his couch, nursing a beer in his hand. He should just throw it out, warm as it was by now. The TV was off and he was simply staring out the bay window into the darkness, alone.

Giselle had reacted exactly as he’d predicted she would. And when she awoke, her steely resolve slammed firmly back into place. She’d slept for a couple of hours and during that time he couldn’t help but savor simply holding her in his arms, acting as her protector. Which was ridiculous, because her strength exceeded his tenfold. But this was far beyond physical protection; he was her emotional guardian. She needed one, whether she would admit it or not. She held everything so tightly to the vest she was going to fucking explode.

Whether she knew or would admit it, she trusted him. No one would let himself or herself be that vulnerable if they didn’t trust the person they were with. And he was deeply grateful he was her person. She wasn’t too happy about that fact when she woke up, however.

“What the fuck are you doing, Thatcher?”

Ah…his foul-mouthed sleeping beauty was finally awake.

“Giselle, can we just lie here in sweet silence a bit longer?” She jumped from the couch so goddamned fast he thought she might have broken a spring or two.

“Are you out of your damned mind? Why are you holding me like we’re lovers anyway? We are
not
lovers, Detective.” Defensive much?

He slowly stood, stalking toward her until he was just inches away. “Not yet, we aren’t, Giselle. But it would be my pleasure to remedy that if you’d like.”

She blushed. Actually full-on blushed, redness rising from her neck into her exquisite pixie face. She was seriously off her game and what was he doing goading her into a fuck anyway? Complete role reversal.

“You fell asleep in my arms and I thought you’d be more comfortable lying down.” He didn’t know why he felt the need to explain himself to her. After all, she should be the one explaining why she had a nuclear meltdown on him, but he didn’t want her to think he’d taken advantage of her. The way she was acting, he had no fucking clue why he cared. But he did.

“Oh.” Oh. That was it. And that’s all he would get as she started in on what the bloodsuckers needed from him this time. Other daughters. Eau Claire. Adoption agencies. Police reports. Yada fucking yada.

So they’d spent the next several hours working side by side, neither one discussing or acknowledging the energy that hummed around them like an electric storm. They’d confirmed that a baby was dropped off with Child Social Services after a call from parents on a potential adoption scam. Analise Aster was the child’s name. She’d been in and out of foster homes until fifteen, when she ran away. She had no police record, not even a jaywalking ticket. Pretty impressive for a kid on the streets. They’d tracked down her last known address, still in Eau Claire, and then Giselle took off, not saying whether she’d be back or not.

Her reaction to their intimacy only solidified her vulnerability. Giselle did not let anyone into her inner circle, sarcasm her most powerful defensive weapon. Such dirty things should not fall out of the mouth of such a beautiful woman.

His head fell back, resting against the couch. Huh, his ceilings needed painted. There were old yellowed water stains everywhere from when the roof leaked last summer. His hand found the cell phone in his pocket and a sly smile crossed his face. While Giselle had been sleeping, he’d looked at her cell phone. The foolish vamp hadn’t bothered to lock the screen.

He was now the proud owner of her phone number. So maybe she wouldn’t answer his calls, but she also wouldn’t be able to escape him completely like she had the last three months. Texting was a
brilliant
invention. Kudos to that guy.

The question rolling around in his brain was—did
he
want more? He couldn’t stop thinking about her. Her taste, the feel of her body next to his, her perky breasts squished against his chest. Her tight ass filling his palms. He’d had a massive hard-on the entire time she was in his arms, one that he had to take care of the second she’d left. It had taken about five pumps before he was spurting all over the tiled shower wall, fantasizing it was her pussy milking him instead.

The answer was yes, he wanted more.
But how much more?
Would one hard fuck get her out of his head? He’d like to say yes but, truth be told, he was scared shitless the answer was a resounding
fucking no
.

C
hapter
27

Xavier

“My lord, the female is not at work again this evening; however, I now have a detailed description of Analise Aster. Of interest, I did speak with Dragonfly’s manager, a human named Frankie. I have reason to believe she is with Damian DiStephano. According to Frankie, she left with him last evening and Damian called her in sick this evening. She hasn’t returned to the motel either. I have checked other hotels and she is not registered at any of them.”

“What the fuck is the East Regent Lord doing in Milwaukee?”

“Well, I was able to get some very interesting information from Frankie before his untimely demise. It seems as if Dragonfly is owned by none other than Devon Fallinsworth. And while the main part of the bar is for humans, there is a lower level that’s reserved for vamps only. Oh…and the females they feed on. Hired help. Seems like Devon is running a safe feeding club and this likely isn’t his only one.”

Brilliant. Xavier should have suspected they would do something like this, noble as the lords thought they were. Provide a safe haven for vamps to feed and fuck, without killing their prey. Stupid fucks.

“Were you able to get into the lower level?”

“Of course, my lord. I simply looked around, gathering information until I could get further direction from you. It appears Devon is out of the country on his honeymoon and won’t return for several weeks. The club is under the watch of Damian DiStephano and it appears that Romaric Dietrich has also been frequenting the place the last day or two.”

My, my, my. Could this be easier? Or was it too easy? He smelled a trap and wasn’t about to rush into a battle without a detailed plan of attack.

“For now I want you simply to keep watch. Frequent the lower level, sample the goods, but play by their rules so as to not draw attention to yourself. If you see Damian or Romaric, you are to let me know, but take no action and for fuck’s sake. Make yourself invisible. They both know who you are and won’t hesitate to try severing your head from your body.” And as powerful as Geoffrey was, he wouldn’t be able to hold his own against two lords without backup. Especially if Romaric was in town.

“Of course, my lord. I will report nightly.”

This could be the break that he’d been waiting for. Devon may be out of the country, and it looked like the lords got to his daughter before he could, but he still had the upper hand. They didn’t know he knew about Dragonfly.

He was already plotting his next move and it would be brilliant. Devon would return from his sweet honeymoon to complete and utter devastation. Once again.

C
hapter
28

Analise

They walked into Grina, the heavy bass reverberating throughout her body from Iggy Azalea’s “Fancy
.
” She was sexually frustrated from not only their last little bedroom session, but the limo ride. He kindly offered to take the limo versus flashing and she’d readily agreed.

During the forty-minute drive, they’d made small talk, learning little facts about each other. She loved her car; he’d never driven. They shared a passion for music. Damian raved about her angelic voice and told her she could sing in Grina if she wanted to. Of course, she said yes. She hated soup, loved pizza and brussel sprouts, but not together. He hated brussel sprouts. He’d read tens of thousands of books, so many he’d lost count. He had more than a hundred different tattoos, some inked over multiple times. She’d always wanted a tattoo, but could never afford it and couldn’t decide what she’d want permanently inked on her body anyway. Damian said he wouldn’t allow her to mar her perfect skin with any mark other than the bonding one.

When she’d asked about the unusual name of his club, Damian’s eyes turned glassy with hunger seconds before she was flat on her back against the seat, his mouth plundering hers. His hands clawed at the top of her beautiful Persian blue dress, so low her ample cleavage practically poured out. Her nipple easily popped free and pleasure coursed through her as Damian took the rigid peak into his mouth, sucking hard. Then he bit down, hard enough to draw blood and she cried out in euphoria as he lapped it up with his tongue.

His driver interrupted, announcing their arrival at the club. After straightening themselves, he leaned over and softly kissed her lips, murmuring, “It means passion, kitten. In Basque.”

“Wow…okay. That’s original.” Her chest still heaved as he helped her from the car.

They made their way through the main section of the club and Damian proudly showed off his new renovations, which had only recently been completed. Grina’s doors opened a few short weeks ago, but it was already a hot spot, located on the east side of downtown Boston, just south of Cambridge.

The interior walls were rough dark limestone and the ceiling pipes were left exposed, but painted black. Grina had a large, open area with a center stage taking up a fair amount of space, along with the dance floor. The outskirts of the floor were lined with tall glass tables and chairs and there were comfortable leather couches and chair configurations on the outside perimeter. Sexual energy hummed in the room and the soft lighting added to the ambiance. A massive bar, lit with soft blue and red colors, was the first thing you saw when you walked through the doors.

Damian took her through several separate, smaller rooms offshooting from the main one. Each had a different type of music: rock, pop, jazz and rap. Each replicated the main area but on a smaller scale.

“Come, kitten. Let’s go downstairs and I can show you my lair.” He laughed evilly, eyebrows wagging. She chuckled along with him, loving that he was so carefree and fun. It’d been a long time since she’d let herself have any.

She’d been heartbroken listening to Damian’s story earlier, and for the first time she thought about sharing a bit of her past with someone else. Someone who understood some of the pain and suffering she had gone through. But she didn’t want to bring down the vibe of the night. She was having fun and for once in her life, was going to just go with the flow.

Damian moved them through the crowded bar with finesse. Of course, when one looked as intimidating as he did, people moved out of the way, their protective instincts kicking in as if innately sensing danger. Pretty soon they were in the back of the club, Damian punching a series of numbers into an alien-looking keypad. Downstairs, the more sophisticated system required a retinal scan. Wow…they took security seriously here.

“Welcome to Grina Bi, Kitten,” he purred.

“Grina Bi? What does that mean?”

“It means Passion Too, in Basque of course.” He grinned from ear to ear, bobbing his eyebrows up and down for proper effect.

Once the steel door opened, sultry music flowed through her. It was so dark, she could barely see, her eyes taking nearly a minute to adjust. Once they did, she was stunned. Bodies, many nearly naked, writhed on the dance floor, almost like snakes. The smell of blood and sex assailed her nostrils, and while it should repulse her, it had the opposite effect instead. Damian’s head snapped toward hers and she felt his hand tighten around her fingers.

“Oh, kitten, we’re gonna have fun tonight,” he said devilishly.

She couldn’t help the smile that broke out. Yes, they were going to have fun. She was horny and felt uninhibited. It was probably the pheromones in the air, and she may regret it tomorrow, but tonight she didn’t care. She was going to live in the moment. Whatever Damian was game for, so was she.

Someone called his name and soon they were surrounded by a group of very large, very male vampires. Damian tucked her tightly into his side, sensing her uneasiness and introduced her as his Moira. Even though they weren’t bonded yet, every time she thought about it, butterflies took flight in her stomach and comfortable warmth spread throughout her body. The more she thought about it, the more she wanted to just say yes, but she needed to be one hundred percent sure. Forever was a very long time. Plus with her human and him vampire, how long would their forever really be?