Dare You to Run (29 page)

Vitus shot him a look. “You were working up to that gem.”

“I was,” Saxon said. “And I'm standing across the room to keep out of your striking range while you filter the information through your brain and come to the only logical conclusion, which is to agree. We should go at first light.”

Vitus ground his teeth together, but his brother was right. He didn't like it—it felt like a noose was tightening around his neck as time ran short. Resources were running thin, and their cover was now blown sky high. One dead Russian from the French Quarter and Greer in the hospital along with a murdered kid in the back of a pickup.

“I'll go talk to her. You deal with Dunn.” Vitus turned and headed down the hallway of Dunn's city residence. He knocked on a bedroom door before pushing it open.

“Finally decided to fill me in?”

Damascus was pacing. There was a flash in her eyes that warned him she was in the mood for a fight. Not that he could really blame her. He'd take a straight-out confrontation any day as opposed to hiding out.

“You have to admit, Princess, making decisions without a clear head isn't a good idea.”

She settled her attention on him, squaring her shoulders. “And you have to agree that you'd need to be dead in order to sit around, in another room, while your life was being decided.”

“True, but that doesn't mean I don't see the wisdom—” He was cut off as he ducked out of the way of a book hurled at his head.

“Christ woman, you've got an arm on you!”

The book collided with the door behind him, the sound echoing through the room. Damascus looked a little shocked at the volume of the noise, her forehead furrowed as she frowned and her cheeks darkened with shame. “You bring out the worst in me.”

Damascus was utterly charming in that moment. She was his match because every damn time he was close to her, his self-discipline went flying into a billion bits.

“Not a chance, Princess.”

She stiffened, pulling in a harsh breath as he made his way closer. It was a magnetic attraction, too strong to resist. He slid his hand into her hair, feeling the connection bone deep, soul deep. All that he knew was that the feeling of her hair between his fingers was like a mind-blowing high.

“I bring out your passion. Don't you ever call that bad.” He was bent over her, enjoying the feel of her nape in his grip, the pure sensation of knowing she was his. “It's more honest than anything in your life. I give you that.”

Her eyes widened as she pressed her lips together like she was thinking about how much she wanted him to kiss her.

“You do that, all right.” Her voice was husky, sending blood rushing to his cock. It hardened behind his fly, giving an edge to his mood.

“I'm not sure it's a good thing,” she finished in a whisper, like the words had somehow slipped out of her soul.

“It's the only damn thing I'm sure of at the moment.” He leaned down closer, catching the scent of her skin. His cock started to throb, the need to get inside her pressing against his brain.

Which was just the way it always was when he had Damascus in his arms. He pressed his mouth against hers, feeling her shiver as she adjusted to his hold. He kissed her, holding her steady as she flattened her hands on his chest and then slid them up so that she could grasp his shoulders. He felt every fingertip as she curled her fingers into talons and locked him in place against her.

His damn cock was granite now, his balls tightening as the need to feel her body clasping his length became urgent.

“I really did come down here to talk,” he offered as he managed to break away from her mouth.

“This is how we communicate best.” She rose up onto her toes to get back in contact with him, pressing hot little kisses against his neck.

Vitus groaned, lifting his chin, exposing his throat. There was no one else on the planet who could have put him in so helpless a position, but Damascus could do whatever she pleased with him, so long as she kept doing it.

He took advantage of the moment, reaching down and finding the bottom of her top. He pulled it up, earning a hiss from her as she was interrupted, and yanked it over her head. The little scrap of a bra she had on didn't last long beneath his determined fingers. It was fluttering toward the floor a moment after her top, leaving the mounds of her breasts free.

“God I love your tits.” He bound her against him with an arm around her waist as he leaned over and licked one rose-crowned tip. She shuddered and he chuckled, pretty sure he'd never enjoyed anything more.

Except being inside her.

His cock reminded him of that fact, but he shoved it aside, unwilling to be rushed toward the conclusion. That was when reality would emerge again with all its specters and harsh edges.

It could wait.

Because he was in the mood to steal a moment of bliss.

He picked her up and turned around to put her on the bed. She looked up at him.

“I can walk, Vitus.”

He was pulling her shoes off, making quick work of the laces as he focused on having her body bare, completely free for him to enjoy. To water the parched parts of his soul. It was more than a desire to get next to her. It was a need that was wringing every last shred of personality out of him, leaving just a bundle of hunger, and she was the only one who would satisfy him.

She snorted at his lack of response but gasped when he came toward her, pushing her back and pulling on her fly. A moment later he had her jeans hanging from one hand.

“Damned if you don't look proud of yourself,” she muttered, her voice edged with uncertainty. Her teeth were set against her lower lip as she worried it.

“Don't be self-conscious.”

She was, and it tore something inside him, reducing him to uncertainty, a place only she took him. She had crossed her ankles, closing her thighs as she tried to decide if she was going to lean back on her elbows or sit all the way up.

“I tore your clothes off you because I love the sight of you, Princess.” It felt like an awkward wording of his feelings, but she offered him a shy smile and relaxed back onto her elbows.

“So, it seems like you know how I feel.” She was biting her lower lip again, but this time with anticipation. He watched her warming to the moment, relaxing beneath his gaze. It was more potent than white lightning and more humbling than anything he'd ever experienced.

“Go on, don't stop now,” she encouraged. “You're doing a splendid job of stripping.”

He chuckled and pulled his shirt off. Her attention went to his chest, enjoyment flashing through her eyes. When he opened his belt and fly, her expression tightened as his cock sprang through the opening. It was a damn fine sight, the look of hunger on her face said. Lust was there, but there was something far more attractive—need. It was a deep core sort of craving, the same one clawing at him.

“Come here, Vitus.” She crooked her finger at him as he finished undressing. “Come do what your face is telling me you want to do.”

He was pretty sure nothing could have stopped him. The bed rocked as he moved over her, covering her smaller frame and lowering himself onto her. She welcomed him, opening her arms and legs and wrapping him into her embrace. It was primitive, basic, and soul-shattering. More honest than anything on the planet. He groaned as she clamped him between her thighs, the folds of her slit wet and slippery. She arched back, pushing her hips up to take his length.

“I meant … to go slower…”

“Don't,” she muttered as her eyes slipped closed. He felt his cock penetrating deeper.

It was too much temptation, that slick hot feeling of her body encompassing the head of his cock. Everything fell aside, like a shell cracking to allow what was inside to be free. At his core, he was a pulsing bundle of need, all craving and appetite for her.

Vitus caught her wrists and pinned them to the surface of the bed. She opened her eyes for a moment. He thrust into her, controlling the motion so that it was strong and hard. Her nostrils flared, betraying her pleasure.

“That's the way you like me, isn't it, Princess?” He pulled free and thrust back into her. “Hard and demanding. Admit it.”

She snorted at him, twisting her hands as he set about fucking her with a tempo he knew she couldn't resist. But she bared her teeth at him.

“Don't be such a caveman.”

He grunted and thrust against her hard, leaning down so that his breath was teasing her ear. “I'm civilized enough to hold back my pleasure until you scream, Princess.” He rose up again, riding her, gritting his teeth against the feeling of her pussy gripping his cock. “I'm going to make you scream.”

It was a vow, one linked to the cravings he had to empty himself deep inside her. They were like two parts of the same seed. He was breathing hard, the muscles in his ass burning as he held her in place. Listening to the sounds she made, watching the way her nipples puckered tighter and tighter, told him she was nearing the edge.

She was trying to hold onto his hands when she peaked, her body arching, straining toward his as she clamped his hips between her thighs. He felt her pussy milking him, pulling on his cock trying to claim his seed. Vitus didn't last a moment longer. He hammered into her and ground himself deep as his balls burned while sending up his load. It was harsh, slamming into his brain as he held Damascus to the surface of the bed and groaned through his pleasure. It was spine tingling and left him gasping for breath in a pile of quivering limbs. Somehow he landed next to her, easing onto his back as he pulled her against his side.

That was the second-most important thing he needed. This moment, when passion no long reigned supreme and he still needed her, was the most. He wanted to feel her heart beating against his side, feel the soft impact of her breath against the hair on his chest. Smell her. God, he needed to have the scent of her skin, of her sweat mixing with his filling his senses. All the little things that confirmed she was there, really there and not just a memory from a time when fate had somehow allowed him to touch a Goddess before she had to return to the realms of her kin.

Just a little while longer—hell that was a fucking lie, he wanted forever. Needed it more than anything else in the world.

He brushed her hair back from her face and watched the way her eyelids fluttered as she slept.

“I'll find a way, Princess.”

Or die trying.

And it would be worth it because he couldn't face going back to living without her. He refused to. All or nothing.

*   *   *

Damascus stretched and felt her back pop. It wasn't sharp, just a release of sorts. She drew in a deep breath and let it out, feeling more rested than she had in, well, in forever. Something was filling her head and she realized it was the sound of Vitus's heartbeat. She opened her eyes and couldn't resist pushing her fingers through the crisp hair on his chest. He had her cuddled up against his side, the edge of the comforter pulled over her. He was toying with one of her curls, the bay area weather making her hair a mass of corkscrews. The windows were a hazy gray, announcing the arrival of dawn.

“I've got to go soon, Princess.”

There was reluctance in his tone but a lazy smile on his lips. She indulged in a moment of savoring the feeling of him against her before she pushed herself up. “We got distracted.”

“I like the way you capture my attention.”

She offered him a roll of her eyes as she turned around and slid her legs over the edge of the bed. The floor was littered with their clothing. She went searching for hers, all the while conscious of him watching her.

“So, what's happening?”

Vitus grunted, his expression tightening. He rolled up to a sitting position and off the bed. “Saxon and I need to go touch base with our section leader, the one who sent us off-grid. We're not doing it from here in case he's been marked.”

“Jeb would've had a list drawn up of who might be in contact with you.”

“Tyler Martin knows. He used to work for Kagan too.”

She finished dressing and started to try and get her hair under control. Vitus pulled his pants on and reached for his shirt. It felt like they were being ripped apart, the layers of clothing like blunt facts of reality all coming between them.

“You really need to just take me back.”

Vitus's sent her a stone-hard look of refusal. “Let's get one thing straight Damascus. I will not ever willingly leave you to that bastard who fathered you.”

She'd known he'd say that. Still, it felt like a concrete block landing in the center of her chest. The weight was crushing the breath out of her because she knew what her sire would do. He'd use that determination against Vitus. In fact, Jeb was counting on that spirit, that core of integrity to help him carry out his insane idea of justice.

That was why she had to intercede, to protect Vitus. It simply wasn't in his nature to walk away, even knowing the risks. Actually that knowledge was only spurring him onward, fueling his determination to shelter her.

Well the truth was, a worthy princess was someone who did what was best for those who held her in such a high position.

He was finished dressing. The last thing he did was pull a gun from where he'd hidden it between the mattress and headboard. She'd never woken up when he'd stashed it, so content in his embrace.

Well, she had to shake it off now and get done what had to be done.

“Dunn's people will look after you while we're gone.” He didn't like saying it. “I will be back soon, Princess.”

“Got it.” She moved toward him, reaching up to lay her hands on his shoulders. She rose onto her toes, stretching to kiss him. Vitus watched her for a moment before he leaned down to kiss her back, his mouth moving over hers in a slow, determined motion that made her heart race.

But he set her back, breaking off the kiss as his expression tightened and she witnessed the flare of determination in his eyes. She turned away before he saw the same thing in her, before she was given away by the fact that he could read her just as easily as she could him.