The Sanction (7 page)

He held his breath. For the life of him
he could not recall ever having a woman caress him so tenderly. Her
fingers gently clawed his tightened stomach. Graeme sank his
fingers into the thick, tangled mass of hair at the back of her
head and sat half way, the strain of his muscles pulled taunt.
Still, her lips and moist tongue journeyed south. His anticipation
heightened. Each dip and plane of his lower torso she explored with
her mouth. Unwillingly, his eyes closed. The things he wanted to do
to her…

“
You should feed,” he
croaked between heavy breaths. “You will need your strength for
what I have planned for you tonight.”

No sooner did the words leave his mouth
did her piercing fangs sink themselves into the flesh of his inner
leg. Graeme’s eyes darted open. The heat of pleasure was like a
furnace, exploding within him even as her fingers wrapped around
his throbbing member. The motions she applied there were slow and
uncertain, and he enclosed his hand over hers to demonstrate
tenderly. All the while she drank, pushing him to a place of
urgency. Almost violently he tumbled her beneath him, and it was in
hunger and desperation he slammed himself into her. She hollered in
ecstasy. Crimson droplets stained the corners of her mouth. Graeme
continued his hasty movements and captured her parted lips
greedily. The taste of his own metallic blood, merged with the
almost primal groans that escaped her sensual form beckoned him to
do the unthinkable – in a rush of rapture, his fangs lengthened.
Just one bite…to taste her…to mark her mine…Spasms claimed her body
swiftly, and the moment those convulsions tightened upon his rod
buried deep within her flesh, Graeme stiffened. His teeth grazed
the tender flesh of her shoulder where he lowered his mouth to give
into the temptation, but already the heat of such rapture had begun
to cool. He sighed in contentment and stayed there for a moment.
Little tremors still snaked through her frame.

“
The night has only just
begun,” came his voice finally. “I intend to be fully satisfied by
the time of the new moon.”

Her hands touched him lightly, and
before he gave into the need to hold her close, he moved away. “The
new moon…is that when I will be released?”

Graeme locked his hands behind his head
and did his best to calm his harsh breaths. His heart still pounded
from their exertions. “That depends upon the Hunters.”

“
The Hunters? I don’t
understand.”

“
They have agreed to pay
your ransom. If they are able to do so, you shall be
returned.”

She sat up slowly, her face flushed,
eyes glinting. The air was thick with the scent of their mating.
Graeme’s eyes fell to her breasts and reached out to caress her
non-too-gently. She batted his hand away in agitation. “If the
Hunters are paying my ransom, what have I been doing?”

He blinked, and then thundered
laughter. “Your body pleases me, but you cannot be compared to a
hundred Hunter heads!”

Amarinda felt a fist lock around her
heart and sucked in a gasp of breath. She thought about her mother,
possibly dead at the hands of wolves, of her dear sweet uncles who
would have given their very lives to see her safe, of the handsome
young vampires who had wanted so desperately to dance with her at
the manse those many long nights ago. Her heart broke in more ways
than one. Oh, she had known she would never have him. Her hunger
had driven her to become nothing more than she was now – a despised
whore of a dog! And now, after ripping the very soul from her body,
he would further humiliate her family, her species, by having her
ransomed for such a price?

Rage forced her to her feet. There in
the dark, the pleasure she found in his strong embrace was duly
forgotten. Mate or not, she would hurt this mongrel son of a bitch!
She would kill him where he lay, looking flushed and so sexually
sated – she hated to even remind herself of the fact that it was
all because of her need to feed. If only she had been born male,
she would have beheaded the bastard!

“
You animal!” she hissed,
trembling so hard it was difficult to form the words. He pushed
himself up and considered her with a twisted smile on his face.
Amarinda rushed forward without warning. One minute she was
standing there – the next she had succeeded in pinning him upon the
furs and pummeled his face in with her fist. His roar of pain was
very satisfying, for in his shock, he had not anticipated her
attack. Amarinda had never experienced blood-lust borne of rage –
she saw nothing but her target, heard nothing but the harsh
pounding of blood in her ear and felt nothing save the hatred that
burned in her heart and fueled her on. Her victory was not to last,
for in a flash he had flung her away and off of him. Her body
catapulted through the air and landed against the cold stone floor.
On her feet she darted, her eyes flaming, fangs protruding and just
as deadly as his.

He wiped the blood the oozed from his
lips with the back of his hand. He was angry. No, she corrected. He
was not just angry. He was livid. And by the way he stepped forward
with purpose, Amarinda knew that whatever mercy he allowed her had
reached its end. This was it then. This was where he would beat her
and leave her alive long enough to collect his ransom. Or where he
would walk out the door and starve her – again. Some of the starch
went out of her spine. A beating she could handle. Being deprived
of blood however…

By his fourth step, the vampire within
her begged to surrender. This was her mate for heaven sake! If he
demanded her beating heart on a platter she would give it to him.
But he was the reason she had lost everything! He was the reason
she was no long worthy of honor! He was the reason her family, her
Coven, would die!

“
I will kill you tonight
mongrel!” came her trembling voice. “I will drain the blood from
your veins and use the strength there to unleash hell!”

His jaw ticked. He approached her with
caution. “By all the gods when I get my hands on you I’ll whip the
skin off your back.”

He would do it. She saw the promise in
his eyes, in the determined manner of his advance. If she had to
die then so be it. Amarinda would die fighting. She moved with
lightening agility, and the back of her hand caught his cheek in
full force. This time, however, she did not foresee his
counterattack. Just as quickly, the favor was repaid. She hit the
floor so hard the room spun. Everything was blurred. Hot tears
stung her eyes, but she blinked them away even as she attempted to
stand. Tangled hair framed her face, and she pushed it out of her
line of vision to stare directly into his amber orbs. His nose near
touched hers. Her gasp of fear and shock froze her to the spot.
Everything about him spelled power. His length of dark hair curled
around his shoulders and the snarl he offered was accompanied by a
threatening growl of dominance. Amarinda stiffened her spine and
struggled with the will to stay on her feet.

“
Is that all the fight you
have within you?” he taunted, pressing his massive, naked chest to
hers. His sniff of disgust was like a slap to the face. “Any other
woman would have suited me better.”

Jealous rage sent another wave of
tremors through her form. He noted her slightly flaring nostrils,
for his smirk was one of mockery. Amarinda did not have far to lean
forward when her teeth sank into the muscle of his shoulder. His
roar of agony was very satisfying, especially since there were no
tender kisses to muddle her senses. Or so she thought, for the
moment he moaned, she scuttled away and considered him in wide-eyed
shock. His member was already stiff and pulsating, and there was
the look of smoky desire on his face.

“
Is that what you planned?”
he rasped, stalking her as she stumbled from his fierce form. “To
use your teeth?” She swallowed hard. What the hell just happened?
Surely her bite had caused him pain! Her back made contact with a
tapestry that hung from the wall. She was cornered. Penned. “I too
have teeth, leech. One of these days I will show you that I know
how to use them!” His grip upon her arms was brutal when he flung
her around. Her tender cheek was pressed against the coarse
material of the tapestry even as he locked her hands behind her
back with fingers of iron. Searing tears flowed from her eyes. She
struggled all the while.

“
Let go of me! You’re
hurting me!”

He rocked his hips forward to press
against the swell of her rump. Her gasp sent the saliva down the
wrong way. She coughed pitifully.

“
I’ve been too lenient with
you so far,” he hissed in her ear. His free hand slipped swiftly
between her trembling legs and found her core. She shook her head
in feigned denial. “This is how I want you…desperate for
me…”

To her utter dismay, she leaned back
into him. The head of his manhood probed her sleek entrance
harshly. Amarinda accepted the invasion with soft mewls of
pleasure. He took her hard and fast, releasing her hands in favor
of her hips as he pounded unceremoniously into her sheath. His
grunts of urgency near drowned out the moans of delight she
offered, and when the white heat of yet another eruption claimed
her, she felt his seed shoot into the depth of her stomach,
scorching and sure.

Sore, exhausted, and too ashamed to
look at him, she almost crumpled to her knees. He lifted her
haphazardly with one arm and leaned her against the wall. The peeks
of her breasts faced him once more. He suckled them harshly, one
after the other. Amarinda felt her body respond even to the brute
force he used. She swatted his hand away tiredly.

“
Enough…” He paused, his
eyes gone serious again. Already she saw that he was more than
willing to rise to such a challenge. She swallowed some of her
pride and allowed her eyes to fall. “Please…”

He half dragged her almost limp form to
the bed. There she tumbled in an exhausted heap, eyes already moist
with tears. He would not spare her. He would not deal with her
gently after she had so foolishly allowed her anger to rule her
head. The wound on his shoulder oozed blood and trickled down the
length of his chest. Her nostrils flared at the hot, enticing scent
of it. Desire swam beneath the liquid in her eyes. Amarinda knew it
had nothing to do with her hunger. She was sated for the time
being, but the need within her, the desire to be filled by him
stirred, even as he pinned her hands at the sides of her head. A
sign of his strength. A sign of his ultimate control. A sign of his
dominance. Sweet shudders swept her. His glowing amber eyes
narrowed in determination. A self-righteous smile quirked the
corners of his mouth.

“
Patience Amarinda,” he
drawled in a husky baritone. “We are far from finished…”

Her toes curled in
anticipation.

Chapter Six

It had been several days of insatiable
pleasure. The ache in her limbs throbbed sweetly through her body
as she stretched beneath the thick furs. Amarinda groaned and
rolled over – only to be met with hard warmth. Panicked, her eyes
darted open. At her side, he slept. The deep breaths he took fanned
her face and forced her to blink. Her first thought was to move
away, but the temptation to cuddle close was too great. Ever so
slowly, she inched closer still, not wanting to awaken him. He
would push her aside and grumble curses as was his habit each
morning. He regretted having spent the night, he said. She was
blamed for her witchcraft, for seducing him each time he saw her
fed. In the nights passed their joining had taken on a new
intensity she did not understand. He was thorough, fierce even.
There were instances she swore his features shifted, as if he was
at the brink of undergoing the change right before her eyes. Then
he would kiss her, or pull away, or hold back on how violently she
knew he wanted to ravish her.

Surprisingly, Amarinda was not afraid.
She had been regaled with so many stories about the Weres, she knew
his near explosive violence stemmed from the fact that the full
moon was already rising. Tonight, if she was not
mistaken.

A quiver began in her belly and ended
in her toes. Absently, she allowed her eyes to assess him. The furs
covered his lower half. Her cheeks near flamed. She knew what it
covered and how fulfilled it made her feel. Light fingers trailed
the line of hair that disappeared there up his abdomen. Every dip
and valley she outlined, wanting to remember him as he was now,
unguarded and asleep. He boasted many scars she saw, some more
pronounced than others, some healed uglier than some. The hair that
matted his wide chest was silken to the touch. She twirled her
fingers there and pressed her nostrils to his shoulder to inhale
the very essence of him. His scent put her in mind of the clean
mountain brooks and the stones on the river bed that made wading
through the water near uncomfortable. The memory made her smile,
and she lifted her hand to stroke his jaw line, to outline the
shape of his mouth that was always twisted in a scowl – and froze
like a thief that had been caught.

His eyes were focused upon her face.
The depth of the almost orange taints there forced her to swallow
hard. Flushed, she allowed her hand to fall. That he should see her
so, near worshipping his form mortified her. She made to move,
wanting to be away from him before he pushed her away as he was
wont to do each morning, and gasped, stunned, as he gently slid his
arm around her waist and pulled her onto his chest.