Turned (18 page)

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Authors: Virna Depaul

BOOK: Turned
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Then again, she probably just noticed the stiffness of his erection, something he wasn’t bothering to hide. Why should he? He was perpetually hard whenever he was around her. If he tried covering it up, he’d spend his time doing nothing else.

She cleared her throat and spoke first, which was exactly what he wanted. She already held too much power over him. It was best he didn’t give up any more to her.

“So, what now?”

“In two weeks, your old friend Miguel will be making a very rare public appearance at the fund-raiser for the Hispanic Community Alliance. It’s a black-tie affair. We’re going to attend the fund-raiser together and remind
Miguel what made him fall in love with you in the first place.”

“What’s that? I was eleven when we met, fourteen when I joined the gang. I wasn’t any more of a femme fatale then than I am now.”

“No matter. He loved you for your strength. Your bravado. Your determination to survive. That’s still an inherent part of you. In preparation for this fund-raiser and your overall mission, however, we’re going to train you in a variety of other things. Weapons. Surveillance. Social etiquette. Even what shoes to wear with what dress.”

She cocked a snotty brow. “So you match shoes and dresses. Tell me, what’s your go-to outfit?”

He had the insane urge to twirl just to make her smile, but he didn’t. Instead, he thought of the menagerie that was soon going to invade the Belladonna compound and shot her a sympathetic glance. “Afraid fashion’s not my expertise. For that, we’re bringing in the big guns—the rest of the team. You’ll meet them in a few days. For now, however, you’re mine.”

CHAPTER
SIXTEEN

When Ana opened her eyes, it was still dark outside. She
stretched, turned onto her side, then froze when she saw the man sitting in the chair beside her bed.

It was Ty. Her dream Ty, with light hair and blue eyes.

Slowly, she sat up. A sense of unease passed through her only to be chased away by the electric thrum of excitement. She licked her lips, and his eyes narrowed and followed the path her tongue took. Seeing the heat in his gaze caused a conflagration to spread throughout her body.

He smiled slightly, but there was nothing humorous in his expression. Instead, he looked like the very devil he’d previously admitted to being. “Be careful about teasing me, Ana,” he said, his words edged with a dark intent that made her shiver. “I’m barely hanging on to my control as it is.”

Then give it up
. A sense of self-preservation stopped her from voicing the thought. She should take his warning seriously. Yes, some crazy part of her wanted to prod him until his control shattered, wanted to revel in the knowledge that she got so deeply under his skin. But was she really ready for that? In their last dream encounter, he’d been gentle. Giving more than he took. How would she react if he took his fill of her? If he took without asking? Would his urgency call forth her fear and ugly memories? Unwilling to take that chance, she
pulled the sheet tighter around herself and asked, “Why are you back? Why now?”

She didn’t clarify what she meant, but she could tell he already knew. Why hadn’t he visited her dreams since that one time in Seattle?

“I’ve been fighting it. Fighting you. Fighting this. Just like you have. But something’s changed. You want me tonight. You need me. So tell me. Do I stay or do I go?”

Ana bit her lip, praying for guidance. Sure, this was a dream, but Ty had already invaded her waking hours. Inviting him to be intimate with her, even if in her dreams, could only bring trouble.

But it would also bring intense pleasure.

Pleasure she’d experienced just one time before. Pleasure she wanted to experience again.

As Ty stood before her, he looked right but … not right. She’d gotten used to seeing him with dark hair and eyes, and the difference in his physical appearance emphasized that he wasn’t real.

So if he isn’t real, a voice tempted her, it doesn’t matter what you do together. No one will know. Hell,
he
won’t even know. You might never get this chance again. Remember what they’re asking of you. Remember why you’re doing it. Take this for yourself.

Take him.

“I want to take you,” she blurted out, her chin held high. “I want you to lie on your back and let me do whatever I want to you. Will you do that?”

He held out his hand. With a small frown, she slipped her hand in his. He pulled her to her feet but didn’t kiss her as she’d expected. Instead, he took her place on her bed.

Lying back on the crisp white sheets, he folded his hands behind his head so his biceps bulged and his abs rippled. The light dusting of hair on his chest arrowed down his torso and disappeared into the waistband of
his sleep pants. At his groin, his cock pushed against the cotton seam as if straining to reach her, and her mouth went dry at the evidence of his girth. As she continued to watch, his hips arched, tempting her to action.

Her gaze shot back to his face. She expected him to be smiling again. Maybe even watching her with an arrogant look of triumph. Instead, he looked hungry. Famished. Ready to break down and beg if she didn’t touch him.

She knew exactly how he felt.

With more bravado than actual confidence, she stepped closer to him and pressed her palm against his chest. The strong thud of his heartbeat echoed the throbbing need between her legs. A slight hiss escaped him as her hand made contact. “Yes,” he groaned. “Touch me. Please.”

“I—I am touching you,” she whispered.

“Touch me with both hands. With your mouth. With your body. I need you, Ana. I need you so much.”

The naked vulnerability of his pleas made her breath catch.
He
needed
her
?

“Yes, I need you,” he said, making her wonder if she’d voiced her thoughts or he’d somehow read her mind. “And once we begin training, once you learn more about your mission, things are going to change. The way you feel about me is going to change.”

“Why? Are you going to be mean to me?” She pouted, skimming a nail across his nipple as if to punish him for any future transgressions against her.

He jerked. “I’m going to push you, and you’re not going to like being pushed. But more than that, you’re going to see me for who I really am. What I really am. And you’re not going to want me any longer. Not the way I want you.”

Instinctively, she pulled back at his pain-filled words. She had no idea what he meant, but when she opened
her mouth to question him, he shook his head wildly. “Don’t ask me to explain because I can’t. Just know that I want you and need you, Ana. Here. Now. I need you to take me, just like you said. Do what you want to me. Do anything. Do everything.”

Anything. Everything.

Most of the time, sex had always been about what someone else wanted to take from her. On the rarest of occasions, it had been about what she’d been willing to give up. She’d never thought of sex in terms of taking for herself. But now here was Ty, every luscious inch of him, begging her to do just that.

Her fears. Her insecurities. Her questions about what he’d said. They all disappeared as a maelstrom of desire overtook her. For once, she was in charge. For once, she had the power to take what she wanted.

She wanted him. She wanted to take from him.

Anything. Everything.

And she was going to.

Faster than she’d ever thought possible, she stripped them both naked. His gaze devoured her bare flesh, but he kept his hands pinned behind his head, giving her total control.

“Your fangs,” she said suddenly. “You had fangs before.”

He was trembling. Closing his eyes, he swallowed hard. “I don’t have to use them again. I don’t have to drink your blood.”

She remembered the sensations of fear that had overtaken her when he’d drunk from her before. How quickly that fear had been dispelled by fascination, then acquiescence, then mind-boggling pleasure. She shook her head. “I want you to. I want you to drink my blood, but not from my throat.”

His brows crinkled with confusion. “Then where?
Where do you want me to drink from you?” he croaked out.

“Anywhere I tell you to,” she said before climbing on top of him, flesh to flesh.

Heart to heart.

Ty moaned with delirious pleasure as Ana pressed her breasts against him, opened her thighs, and, with one soft, feminine hand guiding him, pressed his cock inside her.

He slipped in, her folds instantly closing around the head of his dick. Slick. Tight. A velvet glove that had been warmed by a fire.

Above him, her eyes were tightly closed and her head was thrown back in a paroxysm of agony, but it was pleasure that had her thighs clasping him tighter and her core taking him deeper. Bit by bit, she engulfed him while her fingers gripped his biceps, the bite of her nails a sweet sting that made his gaze lock on her throat in sudden hunger.

She wanted him to bite her again. She’d said so herself. But she hadn’t told him where, and suddenly he was cataloguing all the wonderful possibilities in his mind. Her throat. Her breasts. Her ass. The warm crease of her thigh.

Any and all would be nirvana, but even as his mind spun with the memory of how sweet her blood tasted, the feel of her body fully enveloping his made him groan. He was buried to the hilt inside her. Right now, this was what he wanted. This was enough.

It was everything.

As if she could read his mind, her eyes flew open and she began pumping him inside her, rising and falling, her hips undulating with ever-increasing speed, swirling and circling him like a joystick under her complete command.
One made solely for her pleasure. And that was fine with him.

A soft sheen of sweat coated her body, making her skin glisten. He reared up, anxious to have one of her tight berry-red nipples on his tongue. When it filled his mouth, he sucked softly, then harder, and without conscious thought he began pumping his hips up, urging her to greater speed and stronger thrusts, taking control away from her without quite meaning to.

She gave it to him, wrapping her arms around his head and pulling him closer, feeding him more of her breast. Her hitching breaths and soft moans were sweet music to his ears, and, God, it was glorious—the sound of her, the feel of her. The taste. The smell. It surpassed anything he’d ever experienced as a mere human and made him feel like the damn luckiest vampire to ever exist.

She was the best sex he’d ever had.

“Now,” she moaned. “Bite me. Take blood from my breast,” she begged.

At her plea, Ty felt himself swelling inside her. He could feel his balls tightening with his impending release. He was going to come and he wanted to take her with him. Every single way she’d let him, he wanted to take her.

When her orgasm started and he could feel her vaginal muscles fluttering around him, he gave her what she wanted, plunging his fangs into the soft upper globe of her breast. She screamed, the sound rife with skyrocketing pleasure, and the gush of her blood mimicked the gush of his semen as it burst out of him and into her.

Liquid pleasure. Their life’s essence. From her to him and then back again.

Nothing had ever been so wonderful and yet so sad. The intense pleasure and emotions that swirled through
him quickly receded and were replaced with the cold, brutal truth.

When his eyes snapped open, he cursed.

She was gone. His arms empty.

Once again, the best moments of his life had been a dream.

And no matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he wanted it, further sleep eluded him, taunting him with everything he could never have.

CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN

Ana was going to kill Ty. Somehow, she was going to end
his miserable life in exchange for all the sadistic hell he’d been putting her through. It had been seven days since she’d arrived at the Belladonna compound and no sooner had she had her first team meeting with Carly than Ty had begun her training. At least, that’s what he maintained he was doing. Only it felt more like torture.

Not that she’d ever cop to that. She’d die before she asked him for mercy.

And based on how she felt at the moment, death wasn’t too far off.

Her recent shower had done little to relieve her sore muscles. She supposed that when one had bruises upon cuts upon sprains, only heavy-duty pharmaceuticals could bring relief, but she wasn’t allowed those. No, she had to make do with ibuprofen because otherwise her senses might be muddled and her reactions slowed. And then what kind of pseudo agent would she be?

What she wouldn’t give right now to have her senses muddled with tequila and fresh lime juice on ice.

With a wince, she pulled on some clean clothes before face-planting herself on her bed. God, it felt so good to lie down. To clear her mind of countersurveillance tactics and proper gun-handling techniques and self-defense moves and body-language clues and all the other shit that Ty had been shoving down her throat.

According to him, when the rest of the team arrived she’d be learning social etiquette. How to walk. How to talk. What to wear. What wine to pair with what food.

Truth be told, she dreaded charm school FBI-style far more than her next training session with Ty.

Truth
really
be told, she’d enjoyed every brutal minute of her time with Ty and feared the moment their solitude would end. True, their time together had been as far from romantic as one could get. No matter how the air sizzled when they were in the same room, no matter how her skin sparked when they touched, Ty had kept things purely businesslike once her training had begun. But she’d still loved every second of it.

He pushed her, physically and mentally. He pissed her off and sometimes he made her want to cry, although she never did, at least not outside the privacy of her own room. But he also treated her with respect. As someone worthy of being taught. As someone who was going to accomplish great things, like … saving her sister and other innocent women and children from a cult.

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