The Warrior Vampire (28 page)

She rolled her hips up to meet him and Ronan jerked at the ripple of pleasure that crested over him from the contact on his oversensitized flesh. The head of his cock pulsed, swollen and tight, and his shaft was like marble. If he didn't come soon, he was going to fucking explode.

“What are you waiting for, then?” Her expression was gentle, her brow furrowed. She reached up and brushed the hair away from his forehead.

He swallowed so hard, he felt his Adam's apple bob in his throat. “I'm waiting for the necessary restraint to treat you with care.” The words were rough in his throat. “And not fuck you like I'm starved for you.”

“Oh, gods, Ronan.” A gust of breath escaped from between Naya's lips. “That's exactly how I want you to fuck me.”

Her words knotted his stomach tight and Ronan slid home in a single thrust that caused them both to cry out with relief. The rightness of it stole his breath.

He was home.

*   *   *

Naya was past the point of coherent thought. She was nothing more than a tangled knot of sensation, need, and longing. Ronan stretched her inner walls until she felt deliciously full. Complete. As though some missing part of her had finally been returned. For a moment they lay still and quiet, wrapped in each other's arms. She'd never known such bliss. The world could've burned down around them and Naya wouldn't have noticed. Nothing mattered but this moment and the male who made her feel things she'd never known she could feel.

The power that swirled within her was without comparison.

Ronan put his mouth to hers and Naya opened to him. Their tongues met and parted in a sensual dance as he began to move above her. The first hard thrust caused Naya to gasp, but she didn't break their kiss. She could taste herself on his lips and it only served to further ignite her desire. Ronan pulled almost completely out and she whimpered into his mouth, desperate that they stay connected. His engorged head teased her opening and he plunged back in, knocking the headboard against the wall from the force.

Gods, yes.

At this point, she wouldn't care if he brought the house down around their heads. He kissed her like he fucked her—as though he was starving and she was the only thing he needed to stay alive. Naya wrapped her legs around his waist and dug her heels into the tight globes of his ass. There wasn't a single part of Ronan's body that wasn't cut from stone. He was a magnificent male.

And he belonged to
her
.

Harder. Deeper. Faster. Mooooore.
Talking would require her to separate their mouths and that wasn't going to happen. He tasted so good. Felt
so
good. Words would do nothing but interrupt the feeling and Naya didn't want anything to get in the way of the sensations that danced over her skin and built inside of her much like the magic that manifested from his touch.

Ronan pounded into her, his tongue thrust into her mouth with the same desperate intent. He nipped at her lip and blood welled there. He licked it away, but not before Naya tasted the coppery tang. What would it be like to take Ronan's blood? The magic that manifested from any sexual contact with him was practically nuclear. To ingest his blood, to draw on that part of his innate power, could be the equivalent of a supernova. Would she be able to withstand it? Gods, she wanted to find out.

Blood and sex were closely tied in Ronan's world. In fact, she doubted there were very few occurrences where a feeding didn't end in sex or vice versa. She didn't need his blood to sustain her. But maybe just a taste …

“Ronan.” she broke their kiss and he lunged at her mouth. She put a staying hand between them and marveled at the play of muscles against her palm. “I want your blood on my tongue.”

His eyes flashed brilliant silver and Ronan smoothed her hair away from her face, searching her expression. “You do?” A low growl rumbled in his chest.

“I do.” She couldn't think of anything she wanted more. “I want it.”

Ronan's thrusts became shallow and Naya urged him deeper with her heels, rolling her hips up to meet him. His lips formed a half smile before his jaw locked down. When his mouth parted to kiss her once again, crimson stained his skin.

This time, Naya lunged for him. His blood added a sweetness to his mouth that she hadn't expected. Rich and heady like an aged burgundy. A trickle of power pooled in the pit of her stomach, not enough to manifest magic, but it gave her a taste of what dabbling in such mediums could yield. Ronan was like an electrical outlet, and Naya was some inanimate thing, useless until plugged into a power source.

She'd never known true power until now. And it came from this inexplicable bond that tethered them.

Naya lapped at his mouth with the starvation that spurred Ronan. She licked his bottom lip, his tongue, taking every last drop of blood into her mouth. The act drove Ronan into a frenzy and he renewed his pace, thrusting hard and deep, each jerk of his hips more powerful than the last. He pulled away as he drove into her, incoherent grunts echoing in the quiet room as he fucked her with mindless abandon. Naya gripped his biceps, her nails digging into the flesh as she rolled her hips up to meet his.

Naya's eyes drifted shut and she let her head fall back. Ronan cupped the back of her neck and her eyes snapped open to find his wild and silver, trained on her face. “Look at me, Naya.”

His voice was gruff, commanding, and a thrill chased through her. Pleasure built within her, cresting like a tidal wave that threatened to sweep her out to sea. “Oh, gods, Ronan, don't stop.” If she didn't find release soon, she'd burst out of her skin. “Please. Don't stop.”

He drove hard and deep and Naya's nails broke the surface of his skin. The orgasm swept her up, rocketed her past her own body, her own consciousness, leaving her floating in a vast universe. A formless mass of never-ending sensation.

“Ronan!”

His name burst from her lips as wave after wave crashed over her. Each sobbing cry intensified with her pleasure, and just when she thought she couldn't take another blinding second, Ronan buried his face in her neck and bit down. Another orgasm came on the heels of the first, sweeping her world out from under her once again.

Ronan pulled away from her throat with a roar, pounding into her with such force that it rattled Naya's teeth. She held on to him, met him thrust for desperate thrust as her voice grew raw and ragged from her impassioned cries. His body went rigid and a shout burst from his lips. He pulled out as he came, striping her stomach with jet after heated jet. So hot on her already-sweat-dampened skin.

Quiet settled over them and the sound of Ronan's music carried to Naya's ears in lilting tones that brought tears to her eyes. It occurred to her that the pitch-perfect tune wasn't the force that had attached itself to Ronan but the magic that was their
bond.
The tether itself was a mystical force, and it served to reason that where Ronan felt that bond as a vampire was meant to feel it, Naya
heard
it. That beautiful music that made her chest swell with emotion was the sound of their tether.

Amazing.

“You're so quiet.” Ronan nuzzled her ear, kissing a path down her throat. Chills broke out over Naya's skin and she smiled against his shoulder.

“I'm listening,” she murmured.

“To what?”

“Our tether. It makes the most beautiful music I've ever heard.”

Ronan guided her chin up and searched her face. “You can hear it?”

“Mhhm,” she replied dreamily. “It's…” She swallowed the lump that rose in her throat. “It's the perfect song.”

Ronan kissed her softly. Once. Twice. And again. “Your words are too lovely to offer to someone who rutted on you and marked your skin like a horny beast.”

Naya smiled. “Mmmm. Is that what that was about? Marking me?”

“You drive me mad with desire. I couldn't help myself. It was all I could think of—seeing my seed spread across your stomach.”

She knew the feeling. Her fingertip traced over his shoulder, down into the valley that curved his biceps, and back up over the hill of muscle. In the wake of her touch she left a blush-and-gold-colored trail. “Well…? How does it look?”

He rose up on his knees and her stomach flipped as his eyes raked her from head to toe. “It looks as good as I thought it would. Makes me want to do it all over again.”

Again, and again, and again. A contented sigh slipped from between her lips. She'd never get enough of him. “I like it, too. And if you haven't noticed, I've put my mark on you, too.”

He looked down at his body and a very male, very satisfied smile spread on his lips. “That you have, love. And I'm more than happy to bear your mark.”

Love.
Somehow, that word, no matter how innocently he'd used it, no longer filled Naya with fear.

 

CHAPTER

24

Ronan had never known a more extraordinary female. Naya was everything he could have ever asked for in a mate: strong, fierce, sensual. She was a warrior and a protector. Brave.

And ah, gods, when she'd asked for his blood … The request alone had nearly made him go off. Naya wasn't a vampire. Neither magic nor biology would allow for her to be turned. Ronan had despaired of ever experiencing that aspect of the bond with her: The sharing of blood was a sacred act between mates and lovers alike. But perhaps he and Naya could overcome that hurdle. It was a small thing in comparison to the many obstacles that still stood in their way.

“I need to go talk to Paul.”

Her voice was little more than a whisper in the darkened room. Ronan shifted, rolling over and tucking her back against his chest. He slung one arm over her torso and she wove her fingers with his while she traced his knuckles with her free hand. Such a peaceful, blissful moment. And it fucking sucked that one of those obstacles he worried about would interrupt the intimacy that had begun to grow between them.

“Wait for sundown. I'll go with you.”

Naya let out a soft snort. “The hell you will. Did you forget there's a bounty on your head? You're not going anywhere near Paul or Joaquin.”

Her tone didn't carry the usual sharp edge. Ronan reached up to comb his fingers through the dark tangles of her hair. Gods, he loved the way it slid against his skin like silk.

“Tell me about Siobhan,” Naya said just above a whisper. “What sort of female is she?”

A twinge of jealousy and hurt flared through their tether. It pissed Ronan off that the spiteful dhampir would affect Naya in such a way. Siobhan should have been a part of his past, already forgotten. Not a glaring presence that would have to be dealt with before their relationship could move forward.

“The sort that would eat her young,” Ronan said with a soft laugh. “She's a fighter. Intelligent. Calculating.” Obviously. She'd secured his troth, hadn't she? “She's loyal to those who are loyal to her.”

“Is she beautiful?”

Siobhan's beauty was fierce, like a fire burning through dry forest. “Yes.” It wouldn't do either of them any good to lie for whatever reason, and Ronan knew that Naya would consider it an affront if he tried to spare her feelings. “But so are roses. And yet, they're riddled with thorns.”

“Heh,” Naya chuffed. “True.” A pregnant pause followed and Naya continued to trace up and over his knuckles. “Did you love her?”

Ronan had felt many things for Siobhan, but none of them was love. “No. Siobhan is not a female who you love.” In fact, Ronan couldn't imagine her feeling a tender emotion for anyone or anything.

“I see,” Naya said. Pity rippled through the tether and it turned Ronan's stomach. “She's just a female you fucked?”

He supposed the context of his relationship with Siobhan came off as callous. They'd both been aware of the terms, though, and Siobhan had never been the sort of female to cleave to any male. She was above the sort of weaknesses created by love and attachment.

“Naya.” He'd never been an articulate male. Ronan took action and asked questions later. He'd never had to explain himself to anyone. “If you knew Siobhan, you wouldn't feel sorry for her. What we had was a mutually beneficial relationship with no strings attached.” That is, until she'd felt the need to claim ownership of him. “Siobhan didn't demand the blood troth because she harbored a deep affection for me. It's because she hates to lose. Anything. And she knew I was slipping away.”

“I don't feel sorry for her.” Naya turned in his embrace to face him. Her expression was etched with so much tender emotion that it settled as a deep ache in Ronan's chest. She reached up to cup his cheek in her palm. “I feel sorry for you. You must have been lonely to seek out such a cold and emotionless relationship with a female who would treat you like you were some sort of possession.”

Had he been lonely? Ronan had never thought about it. He existed. Worked. Though his line of business was hardly morally rewarding. He spent time with Jenner and Mikhail. Fed when his thirst crested. Fucked when there was a willing female. Siobhan had satisfied his needs well; she'd been a skilled lover and never held back in bed. But there had not been an ounce of tenderness between them. He'd never held her in her arms. Never stroked her hair. He'd never searched her emerald and silver gaze and wondered what she might be thinking.

“Perhaps I was lonely,” he admitted. “Empty.” He let the pad of his finger follow the curve of Naya's shoulder and the magic that dusted her skin scattered in its wake. “But not anymore, Naya. Now, I'm full. Complete.”

A sad smile curved her mouth. He brushed her bottom lip with his thumb, full, almost pouty and petal soft. “It can't always be like this,” she said. Her gaze darted to the left before she looked at him once again. “There will always be obstacles, Ronan. My people. Yours. I have a feeling that non-vampire pairings aren't the norm. Non-Bororo pairings sure as hell aren't.”