Eventually, unless he found the will to walk away from her, Carys would one day learn all of the shame that clung to him even now.
If he had any honor at all, he’d have told her everything already. Before he’d let himself care whether or not she stayed. Before he’d let himself fall in love with her.
The words were right there now—poison at the tip of his tongue.
All he had to do was spit them out.
But then Carys kissed him. Her tongue thrust into his mouth, past his teeth and fangs, greedy and demanding. The erotic sensation of it arrowed straight to his balls. His fangs throbbed in time with the pulse now hammering in his cock, and what little honor he had was swallowed up by the consuming heat of her mouth on his.
He groaned, suspended between torment and ecstasy as she tightened her arms around his neck and her kiss took on a more fevered urgency. Their tongues tangled, fangs clashing as Carys pressed herself against him.
The leather shorts he wore from the halted fight barely held his raging arousal. His sex was hard as stone and starving to get loose. To get inside the temptress who was swiftly stoking him toward madness with her hot little mouth and merciless curves.
He slid one thigh between hers and ground against her, growling at the pleasurable friction of his shaft riding her hip as her tongue thrust in and out of his mouth.
It took all he had to keep a leash on his Breed instincts. It would be so easy to give in to the primal urge to take her plump lower lip between his teeth and bite down, hard enough to draw blood. It would be the act of an instant to break away from her mouth and sink his fangs into the soft flesh of her throat.
So goddamn tempting . . .
She had no idea how often he fought those urges with her.
Nor could she know. Because if she did, his beautiful, headstrong rebel would make certain he gave in to them.
Her mouth still joined with his, she dropped her hands to his bare shoulders and chest. Her fingers skated over his skin, tracing the swirls and flourishes of his glyphs as if she knew their patterns by heart.
No doubt, she did. Of her two Breed gifts, it was her photographic memory that was her most powerful where he was concerned. She knew exactly how to touch him, precisely how to bring him to the edge of oblivion.
When she reached down beneath the loose ties of his shorts to grasp his sex, Rune sucked in a tormented moan. His blood raced through his veins, most of it already heading south to meet the demand of his engorged shaft.
Carys palmed the blunt head of him, slicking her fingertips with the wetness that beaded there. Her caress glided along his length, a sure and steady motion that built swiftly toward an unbearable ache. She showed him no mercy, her touch leaving him taut as a bowstring and panting with need.
Rune still held his fighting gloves and steel torc in one hand. With each sure stroke of her fingers over his stiff cock, his fist tightened, driving the titanium spikes deeper into his palm. He barely felt the pain for all the pleasure of her touch.
And he needed to touch her too.
But not here.
The fighting pit was for pain and destruction, not anything he shared with her, no matter how hungry he was to take her beneath him regardless of where they were. But not in the cage.
He would never let that brutal part of his life brush too closely against what he had with Carys.
He pulled away from her kiss on a harsh curse.
Her touch stilled, confusion dimming the bright embers of her transformed eyes. “What’s wrong?”
He didn’t answer. He didn’t have words, only need.
Taking her hand from his chest, he laced their fingers together and led her out of the cage.
CHAPTER 11
He brought her through the vacant corridors of the arena to his private quarters, tossing aside his gloves and torc as soon as he entered his chamber with her. Carys sighed as his hands found her face and held her steady for his kiss.
Breathless, weightless on her feet, she melted into his touch, into his fevered claiming of her mouth. He stopped only long enough to bring her with him into his bedroom, saying nothing, even as he pulled her into his arms with another searing kiss.
He hadn’t answered her back in the cage. She knew part of his brooding silence could be blamed on need. She felt it too—the flashfire heat that ignited between them whenever they came together.
But something was troubling him. Had been, even before his abrupt exit with her from the arena. She couldn’t pretend she hadn’t noticed.
When their kiss finally broke, she rested her forehead against his and stared into his smoldering eyes. “What happened, Rune? Because if I did something, or said something that bothered you—”
He scowled and reached up to caress her cheek. “You’re doing everything right. All you have to do is look at me now to see that.”
It sounded like a line, something he’d never fed her before. But his eyes were blazing with desire. His fangs were enormous, filling his mouth as he spoke. Need had turned his deep voice to gravel.
Whatever shadows she had thought she’d seen in his eyes out in the arena were gone now, burned away by the twin glowing embers that locked on her now.
“But back there, in the cage . . .”
He drew her close, his large hands framing her face. “This is where I want you right now, Carys. In my arms. In my bed.” He bent his head and let his lips brush against her ear. “I want you on my tongue. On my cock.”
The words cleaved into her senses, conjuring mental images of the two of them naked and sweating and wild for each other. Whether he had planned to distract her like that, she didn’t know, but it was damn hard to hold on to doubts and misgivings when Rune was whispering wicked promises in her ear.
“The club is empty, just you and me now,” he murmured, his hands moving down to her shoulders, then around to grasp her backside. “So tonight, I plan to take my time.”
As if to prove his point, he dragged her into a slow, bone-melting kiss. Her pulse kicked into a faster beat. Her blood raced¸ sending rivers of fire through her veins.
He drew back, and her gaze fell to the bulge of his erection where it pushed against his leather shorts. She knew well enough that Rune’s cock was as impressive as the rest of him, but the thick outline of his shaft made her mouth water and her fangs erupt further out of her gums.
“Christ, the way you look at me,” he rasped. “Those eyes could ash a man in seconds.”
She smiled, meeting his own hot gaze. As he unfastened her slacks, she ran her fingers through his thick brown waves, gasping at the rush of cool air against her bare legs. Her skin was hypersensitive, eager for his touch.
Her panties went next. As he slid them off her hips, he ran his hands along her thighs, then slid his fingers into the slick wetness of her sex. She sucked in a sharp breath as he teased her sensitive flesh, then moaned in protest an instant later when he took his wicked touch away.
“So responsive,” he uttered, his voice thick with desire. His hooded eyes crackled with carnal intent. “Sit down on the bed and I’ll give you some more.”
Oh, God. She couldn’t obey him fast enough.
With her perched on the edge of the mattress, he came over and took off her blouse. His hands were gentle, but shaking with barely restrained desire as he pushed her bra straps down her arms. A kiss warmed the crest of each shoulder, his mouth tender, breath hot against her skin.
It was slow torture, but she loved it. Couldn’t wait for him to ease the impossible ache that was blooming in her core.
With deft fingers, he unfastened the clasp of her bra, freeing her breasts and revealing the dermaglyphs that hid beneath the lacy cups.
He growled, his broad mouth curving in a smile as he looked at her. “So pretty. I don’t know what’s more perfect, your breasts or these sexy-as-fuck glyphs that decorate them.”
His praise quickened her blood even more. But then he crouched onto his haunches to kiss her breasts and the
tremors of arousal began to vibrate through her.
She wrapped her arms around him, her head dropping back in pleasure as he suckled her nipples. The suction of his mouth and tongue sent streaks of fire into her veins. The fleeting graze of his teeth and fangs put the heat inside her on a boil.
Need raked her, made her writhe and squirm for more.
And as Rune promised, she could tell that he meant to give it to her.
He drew back and placed his palms on her inner thighs. He spread her wide, baring her to his fevered gaze as he lowered his head toward her sex. A low purr rumbled deep in his throat even before his lips touched her.
“I love the scent of you, Carys. Sweet, honeyed nectar and exotic spice twined together.” He glanced up at her then, his eyes hot and his sharp fangs gleaming. “And I know you taste even better.”
His dark head dipped between her parted legs. His mouth closed over her, his tongue cleaving her folds. When he found the aching knot of nerves nestled between them, she cried out at the sudden, searing pleasure.
He licked and suckled her without mercy. It didn’t take long before she shattered against his tongue, wave after rippling wave coursing through her.
Rune kept his eyes on hers as she came, his mouth still working its wicked magic, sending her spiraling toward another peak. She couldn’t bear any more. She needed to feel him filling her. She wanted to feel him coming with her now.
“Rune,” she gasped, her hands clutching at him. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, into his hair, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted him to stop or give her more.
“I’m addicted to the taste of you.” He groaned against her, lapping up all of her juices. “But my cock’s addicted to you too.”
He rose and yanked the ties of his leather shorts. They fell away, unveiling the heavy spear of his erection. If he thought she was beautiful, that was the only word she could use for him too.
No matter how many times she saw him naked and fully aroused, Carys marveled at the sheer size and power of her formidable lover. Like the man himself, his cock was breathtaking.
His veined shaft and the glistening plum at its crown jutted long and thick from a nest of dark hair. Glyphs tangled around the base and curled like admiring fingers around his girth. Those Breed skin markings were dark with pulsating color, as were the others that tracked over the rest of his body.
He pushed her back onto the bed. But instead of following her as her body was dying for him to do, he advanced slowly, delaying long enough to kiss her hip bones and belly, his hands roaming over her, driving her wild. He followed the pattern of her glyphs with his lips and tongue, tracing each arc and swirl.
Carys writhed beneath him, that unbearable pool of heat building between her thighs, reaching for its crest again. She arched up as he stroked her slick cleft. No teasing touches now. He played her masterfully, knowing just what she liked, just what she needed.
She hadn’t been a virgin when she’d fallen into his bed the first time, but having been with Rune all this time made the handful of her other sexual experiences blow away like dust.
When she thought she couldn’t take another second of agony, he stretched out alongside her and took her mouth in a deep kiss while fluttering his fingertip against her clit, making her quiver and snarl with a pleasure that bordered on savage.
“I can’t take any more,” she panted. “I need you to stop this ache. I need you to fill me, Rune. And I need it now.”
He made a low, approving sound in the back of his throat. His fangs were bared and enormous, his eyes searing her with amber heat as he positioned himself between her parted thighs.
Her body was drenched, starving for him. “Now, Rune. Please.”
He moved into place and she felt the delicious pressure of his blunt head at her body’s opening. Hunger and desire raking her, she grabbed his shoulders and pulled him down for a hard kiss as she shifted her hips to seat him more fully at her core.
He pushed inside, stretching her tight, and—oh, God, yes—driving in all the way to the hilt. She cried out in pleasure and relief at the overwhelming invasion. Her fingers clawed his shoulders as he plunged deep, then withdrew with achingly perfect slowness.
“You’re so hot and wet,” he ground out, pushing their rhythm to a more urgent tempo. “Fucking you feels so damn good.”
She could only nod in agreement, her words fleeing her as she spiraled toward another shattering orgasm. She clamped her legs around him and held on as he drove harder, deeper.
When her release slammed into her, his name was a raw cry on her lips. He followed a moment later on a sharp, vicious shout.
It took a long while for them to drift back down from their peak. Carys held Rune close, his body a heavy comfort on hers as the aftershocks of orgasm rippled out of them.
They were as intimate as two people could get, but she couldn’t help feeling that tonight, somehow, he’d been distant. He’d been pulling away from her.
If she was being honest with herself, Rune had been holding something of himself back from her for weeks.
Maybe even from the very beginning.
As he rolled off her and drew her against his warmth, Carys tried to tell herself she was imagining things. But the small, gnawing coldness that settled in her heart seemed to warn her otherwise.
CHAPTER 12
It felt strange waking up in her own room, in her own bed, back home at the Darkhaven that next morning. Strange, yet comforting too. Her time with Rune had been incredible as usual, a blissfully exhausting gauntlet of pleasure and release that never failed to leave her sore in all the right places and longing for the next round.
But as she showered and dressed, it was the other persistent ache that clung to her.
Was she anything more than just a good fuck to him?
Did she even know him?
She knew he cared for her. More than once in the weeks they’d been together, he’d even told her he loved her. She believed him. Even now, she wanted to believe that what they had together was real.
But there were missing pieces to the puzzle that was Rune.
There were secrets.
Last night, she saw for the first time that there were walls built up around him too. Steep walls she hadn’t even realized she needed to climb. Walls he obviously wasn’t ready to let her get close to, let alone begin to scale.
Rune came from dubious beginnings; she knew that. He’d told her that he’d grown up on the streets, a denizen of Boston’s underworld. He’d scraped by most of his life, making his living on his fists and other dangerous means.
He’d told her all of that the first time she had asked about his past. He hadn’t seemed proud of where he’d come from, but he hadn’t seem bothered by any of it either.
Now, however, she wondered . . .
Those heavy thoughts followed her as she left her room and walked to the main living area of the Darkhaven mansion. The place was quiet, no one around. Then again, at nine in the morning, her father would be deeply entrenched in Order business with his warrior teams down in the command center.
Carys strolled toward the kitchen, following the aroma of fresh baked goods and brewing coffee. She found Brynne seated at the island counter, enjoying both by herself. She wore jeans and a crisp white button-down shirt, with her long sable hair twisted up into a messy bun on the top of her head.
Carys smiled as her mother’s half-sister glanced up. “Good morning.”
“Morning.” The Breed female’s expression turned sheepish as she chewed a big bite of blueberry muffin. “I know, I really ought to go find a blood Host this morning, but honestly. How am I supposed to resist temptations like this?”
Carys laughed. “Just one of the benefits of being winners of the genetic lottery. Not only can we walk in daylight, but we can eat and drink anything we like.”
Brynne lifted her coffee mug in salute. “And not a bit of it ever goes to our hips.”
Carys walked over and took a muffin off
the serving plate. She popped off the top and began nibbling at the crispy edges. “I suppose everyone is down at the command center already?”
“For about an hour now.”
“My mother too?”
Brynne smiled. “She left me with muffins and coffee, so I can hardly complain.”
It wasn’t unusual for Tavia to be part of patrol reviews and mission strategy meetings. She’d been involved in Order business since her mating to Carys’s father, and it was obvious Tavia was at her happiest when she was working at her mate’s side. But her impeccable manners would balk at abandoning a guest—family or not—for so long by themselves.
“Today’s meeting must be important,” Carys mused out loud.
“Must be,” Brynne said. “Lucan’s called in personally this morning, from what I understand. Something about a new lead on one of the ongoing operations.”
Carys nibbled on her muffin, her mind running a hundred miles an hour. It couldn’t be her lead they were discussing, could it? Had the information she’d found last night proven useful? Had it possibly led the Order to another Opus Nostrum member? The very idea spiked her veins with a jolt of adrenaline, the thrill of the hunt.
“Why don’t you go find out for yourself?”
“What?” She blinked at Brynne.
“If you want something, sweetheart, you have to be willing to reach for it.”
She gaped. “What are you saying? That I want to be part of the Order?”
“I didn’t say that at all. But you just did.”
Carys shook her head, but the denial didn’t quite make it to her lips. “They haven’t asked for my help.”
“Just because you don’t have an invitation to the party doesn’t mean you don’t belong.”
Brynne picked up her empty plate and coffee cup, then carried them to the sink. As she washed both, her phone chirped on the island countertop. Murmuring her excuses, she dried her hands and took the call into the other room.
No sooner had she gone, than Carys set down her half-eaten breakfast and headed for the command center.