Taken By Desire (3 page)

“You’re going to break your neck,” she yelled.

“Be calm. We are safe. Just relax. You will always be safe with me.” She buried her face in his throat, afraid they would tumble any moment. But the darkness also brought another problem. Under its cover she could smell him better, feel him, and sense the movement in his body. Each step he took was a glide as smooth as water, as graceful as a dancer. It didn’t take long for them to reach the bottom and he shifted her before he released her with one arm. A light came on and illuminated a large room with multiple computer screens and a large swivel chair in the center of it all. He lifted her back into his arms and bypassed all of that, heading for a door to the left of the computers.

The next room was a paradise of black silk and soft champagne-colored walls. His bedroom had a massive bed in the center, large enough to fit five, full-grown men in—comfortably. It was covered in black silk sheets with pillows in the same golden color that his walls were painted in. The golden duvet cover, rimmed in black, was turned down as if waiting for him to lie down. A large mirror, spanning one whole wall, covered one side of the room, facing the bed. Dual nightstands, one on each side of the bed, had lamps sitting on them with dark covers, providing soft light. But other than that, there was nothing in the room. She supposed his den took care of all of that, and one of the other many doors was his restroom and closet, assuming, of course, that is was self-contained down here.

He slid her under the covers with ease and then moved to turn off the lights. She buried her head under the covers he’d tucked her into as he left the room. He left the door ajar and she could hear him moving around in the other room before she heard soft footfalls on the stairs, followed by a door opening and closing. Surrounded in his scent, and comforted, she fell asleep.

Chapter Four

She was running for her life. Everyone in the mansion was gone, disappeared as if they never were. And Ice was here. He’d found her. She pounded on doors, knowing her stumbling escape was loud enough not to hide where she was. Ice had come through the door, pistol in hand with a silencer on the end, his black beady eyes boring into her as he spotted her relaxing on the couch. His black hair, slicked back from his face with gel, matched his dark T-shirt and camo pants. He’d come for war, and she was his enemy. Only her fight-or-flight responses kicking in, with her flight taking precedence and pushing her to leap over the couch, saved her from the first shot. It swung wide and to the left of her as she screamed. But no one was there. No one could hear her. He’d blocked the front door, her avenue of escape, and she rushed upstairs, unsure of the layout of the whole house.

On the second floor she struggled to find Cirro’s door, to escape downstairs to his sanctuary, knowing if she just made it there she’d be safe. That Cirro would save her. He had to. He told her that he would keep her safe. She screamed as Ice came pounding up the stair behind her and another shot whistled through the air. Plaster exploded above her head and rained down on her hair. She pushed herself faster, her chest heaving and her heart ready to leap from her chest. She ran with everything she had, testing every door until one gave and she saw the stairs she’d been looking for. But a hand gripped her arm, yanking her from safety, and turned her. Ice smiled evilly in her face, his straight, white teeth an atrocity.

“Caught you, bitch,” he whispered as he put the muzzle of the gun to her head.

“Cirro,” she screamed with everything she was worth, knowing he wouldn’t get to her in time, knowing he may be hurt if he rushed to her side now. She was going to die.

“Cirro,” she cried again in the darkness and the door slammed open, spilling in light. Cirro was there, gun drawn, his eyes scanning the room and his nostrils flaring.

“You’re safe, Sasha,” he whispered putting his gun down on the night stand and kneeling by her side. “Safe. There is no one here.”

“He was chasing me. I felt him. His hands on me, the gun to my head,” she said, trembling so hard her teeth clicked. Cirro sat on the bed next to her and pulled her into his arms.

“I’m here. He’s not going to hurt you. I would die first,” he promised.

“Take it away, make me forget,” she begged, not knowing what she asked for, but she wanted the fear gone, wanted Cirro to wipe away the memory of Ice’s touch. She clutched at Cirro’s shirt, bunching the material in her fists. He released her and then framed her face with warm, calloused hands.

“Sasha,” he began but she didn’t let him finish.

“Please,” she begged.

“As my mate wishes, so shall I provide,” he whispered before dipping his head.

The first touch of his lips against hers was soft and easy, an exploration of her lips. She tasted him, the sweetness of his tongue as he slid it into her mouth. He tilted his head and fit her mouth better to his as he laved the inside of her mouth with his tongue, stroking over each crevice. Her body heated, the cold of fear giving way to desire as she pushed closer to him even as she pulled him tighter to her body. Her breasts felt heavy, her nipples aching as they were crushed against his chest. His hands left her face and his arms wrapped around her. He pulled her into his lap and she felt the thick evidence of his arousal under her ass. She swirled her hips against him, and was rewarded with that purr that was unique to him. She broke the kiss long enough to speak.

“More,” she whispered against his lips and kissed him again, harder this time, communicating silently her need.

He lay her down on the bed, his body pushing hers into the mattress. His hands roamed down her sides to the hem of her shirt and lifted. He only left her mouth long enough to toss it over her head. She gripped the bottom of his shirt as well and ripped it from him. His chest, hard and muscular, pressed against her bra covered breasts. She need more. She needed him. Never had she felt so drawn to a man before. She arched her back and unclasped her bra, shrugging her arms out of the strap. He shifted enough for her to pull the material and then, sweet heaven, she felt him. Naked. Her stomach quivered with the sensation.

Finally he left her mouth, kissing his way over her chin and down her neck. His hands were busy, unbuttoning her jeans, and pushing them, along with her underwear, over her hips. Her pussy grew plump and moist at his urgent touch. His mouth made its way to her right nipple and he sucked it into her mouth as she kicked away her jeans. His black pants rubbed against the soft insides of her thighs as he settled between them. She groaned when his hands molded her breasts. His tongue flicked her nipple and then he nipped it with his teeth. She arched under him, gripping the cool strands of his hair to push him tighter to her body.

“Yes,” she moaned as he switched to her opposite nipple. Her body felt like it was on fire, lost under the tidal wave of Cirro. She’d been waiting for this moment, in the back of her mind, for a year, since the moment she’d laid eyes on him. No amount of avoiding each other had stopped the desire that had slowly caught fire in her. His touch felt right, perfect on her body. She wrapped her legs around him, grinding her pussy against his cloth-covered cock. He felt long, thick, and delicious. She wanted him inside. Screw nice and easy, she needed rough and hard. She needed him to claim her body in ways she’d never been touched before.

“Dammit, Cirro, please,” she begged and he seemed to know what she needed. He lifted off her and stood up. His hands went to his belt and he unbuckled it. He unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. And then, inch by slow inch, he pushed them down off his body. His cock sprang from a dusting of dark blond curls, just as perfect as she thought he’d be, but better. The head of his cock was broad, the top of his dick larger than the base. He would hit her G-spot nicely. She knew it. She couldn’t wait to feel him inside of her.

“Be sure, Sasha. There is no going back once I take you. No turning back,” he said, his eyes pleading with her with some emotion, some hidden knowledge she didn’t understand, but she wasn’t stopping. She wanted him.
Needed
him and she was going to have him.

“Take me,” she answered and his eyes slid closed and he exhaled roughly.

“Then we’ll be damned together,” he whispered roughly before he lay back down on top of her. He settled in between her thighs, his dick blazing against her clit like heated steel. She moaned, her body tensing just at the slight touch. Her pussy was leaking, ready for him, but he tested her with his fingers, pushing one thick digit in and then another. He pumped them in and out of her slowly, watching her. She held his gaze as her breath quickened and her body rolled into his.

“Take me,” she repeated.

“I’m a large man. You have to be ready. We’ll take this slow and easy.”

“No. I need it hard, rough,” she said then. “Now,” she urged. He shook his head and she roared her frustration. Taking matters into her own hands she gripped his cock in one fist and pumped, twisting her wrist as she went. He froze above her, his pupils dilating.

“So be it,” he said roughly and then moved her hand out the way. The head of his cock kissed the entrance of her pussy and he slammed in. She screamed at the first blissful glide but he wasn’t done. He set a punishing pace, gripping her legs by the backs of her knees and lifting them toward her chest. He slid in another inch and she screeched.

“Yes,” she cried. Looking in his eyes as he moved was the most erotic thing she’d ever done. Each surge was ripple pleasure over her nerve endings, each retreat had her weeping for more. He kissed her womb with each thrust. His grip on her legs tightened as he moved forward, harder, never breaking eye contact with her.

Something in her snapped, breaking away from her and rising to meet him. His eyes flickered from blue to gold before her eyes. Over and over again until they were completely gold, his jaw muscle working as he clenched his teeth.

“Mine,” he roared, lifting her ass off the bed and sliding in her farther. It was as if he couldn’t get close enough. The new angle had her panting, her body writhing beneath him with so much pleasure she could barely catch her breath.

“Yes, yours,” she said, unable to stop herself. And she did feel like she belonged to him. Mind, body, and soul. Everything was attuned to him, his smell, his touch, his very essence as he moved. His balls slammed into her ass with every pounded movement, the sound of wet sucking and flesh hitting flesh shooting her higher. Heat pooled into her belly, a white-hot burn that spiraled through her system. She couldn’t think, couldn’t focus, her sight growing blurry.

“No, look at me. Stay with me,” Cirro ordered and her sight cleared. As if he’d ripped a veil from her, and she could see him, his teeth bared, four fangs hanging down over his lip. He pushed harder, rocking into her body until the pleasure exploded through her body and tossed her into the sun. And then he bit her. The pain at the curve of her neck morphed into erotic torture, lifting her higher until she was screaming, eyes finally closing. Her pussy gripped and milked his cock as he thrust into her. Once. Twice. A third time and then he was bellowing into her neck, his hot seed jetting into her hungry womb. Each shot made her womb tremble. He held her like that, locked into his embrace long after he stopped and their breathing was even. Finally, their flesh moistened with sweat, he let her body slide back to the bed. He curled around her and covered them with the duvet. As she slid into an exhausted sleep she wondered about the changes that she’d seen.

And wondered what the hell he was, and why she felt safer now than ever.

Chapter Five

Cirro was a coward. He could admit that to himself. He claimed his mate, the one fucking thing he said he wouldn’t do. Now he was tied to a human, a fragile woman who couldn’t heal injuries, and wouldn’t live enough years to satisfy him. Now that he’d tasted her he knew that even a hundred years more wouldn’t be enough for him to ever tire of her. Her body was a paradise that even now he longed to return to. But he was a wereleopard, and she had no idea what she’d bound herself to. He’d asked her if she was sure, and she’d said yes, but he’d been unfair to her. He hadn’t told her
what
she was binding herself to. For all she knew she had just entered a relationship with a human male who was going to protect her.

She had no idea that animals surrounded her, and that even Selene was now one of them. The only one that couldn’t turn furry was Maddy, and that would change after the wedding. Werewolves could change their mates with no risk under a full moon with a mating bite. It was why Maddy wore the bite of Connor’s possession but not his mating mark. Cirro knew it was hard for the wolf not to completely bind his mate to him, but the two had made the decision. If he completely mated to her outside of a full moon, he’d never get the chance to change her. The couple relied on their love and their partial mating to sustain them until the chosen day.

Cirro would not be so lucky. The only way that Sasha could become a wereleopard would be to receive a mortal wound from a wereleopard in a partial shifted form, the magic of their transformation extending to her. Cirro couldn’t imagine hurting her like that, or allowing someone else to do it, despite the fact that it’d break the law of his kind. No matter how he looked at it he was now bound in the one way he had always feared, and had tried to avoid at all cost. But Sasha’s fear had done something to him. When she’d screamed for him he’d been talking to Connor about their plans for returning to her house to hunt the man who hunted her. In the middle of the conversation he’d raced to her side, knowing that she wasn’t in danger. He kept a watch on his wrist at all times that was synced with his alarm system. If anyone had gotten within five miles of the katafygio, he would have been alerted and on the move to meet them with his team. But he’d wanted to reassure her, so he’d tumbled into her room, gun at the ready, and making a show of making sure she was safe.

All to soothe a mate that he never was supposed to claim.