When Darkness Comes Page 11

  “Abby?” he whispered.

  Not giving herself time to consider her rash behavior, Abby reached up to thrust her hands into his glorious hair. Her heart was already racing and her breath impossible to capture.

  “I don’t want to think about demons or witches or all the other horrid creatures that are trying to kill me.”

  His arms wrapped about her, tugging her easily to straddle his legs so they were face-to-face.

  “What do you want?” he rasped, his fingers trailing up the length of her spine.

  “You.” She kissed him with all the yearning that was burning within her. “I want you.”

  Chapter 10

  She heard his soft groan as his hands shifted to cup her hips, compulsively pressing her to his thickening cock.

  “Abby?”

  She arched forward, her body already on fire. Hell, at the moment she felt fully at home in this cave. Certainly her urges were as primitive as any Neanderthal.

  She want. She take.

  “What?” she muttered, tilting back her head as his lips nibbled their way down her throat.

  “You know you are not thinking clearly?”

  “I don’t care.”

  His tongue ran a searing path along the line of her collarbone.

  “I just don’t want you to come to your senses and discover some creative spot for that stake that you keep threatening me with,” he husked.

  In response, she leaned back so that she could pull her shirt over her head. She tossed it aside and quickly followed it with her plain cotton bra.

  “I’ve already accepted that I’ve gone completely insane. What is a little more madness?”

  His agonized groan echoed through the shadowed cave, his eyes flashing silver fire as his hands moved to tenderly cup her breasts.

  “Good madness, I hope,” he muttered, clearly distracted as his thumbs brushed over her nipples.

  She shivered with excitement. “Yes.”

  His head lowered, his lips closing over the tip of her breast.

  “And better madness?”

  Her eyes squeezed shut as a sharp, gnawing pleasure raced through her.

  “Oh . . . God, yes.”

  “Bloody hell.” Still tormenting her nipple with his tongue, Dante expertly attacked the fastening to her jeans and, with Abby’s full cooperation, swiftly had her naked and back in his lap. Pulling her close, he kissed her with a desperate hunger. “I’ve dreamed of this so long, lover. I need to know this isn’t just another fantasy.”

  “I’m no fantasy,” she assured him.

  He gave a soft chuckle, his hands trailing down her back and over her hips. “That’s a matter of opinion.”

  “Dante,” she whispered.

  “You are so warm. I could drown in your heat.”

  “I think you would be warmer if you got rid of some of those clothes,” she daringly offered.

  “Much warmer.” His movements were jerky as he helped her to remove the final barriers between them.

  Her breath caught as she glimpsed his full arousal, a sudden ache clawing deep within her. She wanted to make this a slow, delicious seduction, but the thought of having him buried deep within her made her long to abandon her plan and simply join herself to him in a flurry of pagan heat.

  Obviously misunderstanding her hesitation, Dante reached up to gently stroke her cheek. “Are you sure about this, Abby?”

  “Yes,” she managed to croak, wrestling control over her hot surge of desire. “At the moment it’s the only thing I am sure of.”

  Giving her a long searching glance, Dante slowly framed her face in his hands, pulling her forward to kiss her with an aching sweetness. Abby melted toward him. She had not exaggerated. In this moment there seemed nothing more right than being in this vampire’s arms.

  Feeling a strange confidence that was usually lacking within her, Abby ran her hands lightly over his muscled chest. His skin was as smooth as silk, inviting a more intimate touch.

  Without thought, she lowered her head to trail her lips over his shoulders, delighting in the erotic power that flowed through her blood.

  “My champion,” she whispered as she continued her persuasive caresses. “Do you like this?”

  “Yes,” he growled, his hands clutching her hips as he sought to remain in control of his building need.

  “And this?” she whispered, moving steadily lower.

  “God, yes.”

  “And this?”

  “Abby,” he choked as she reached the clenched muscles of his lower stomach.

  “Yes, Dante?”

  “Keep this up and it will be a fantasy for one,” he ground out.

  She gave a throaty chuckle as she deliberately rubbed her body back up the length of his chest.

  Her every nerve felt alive, sensitized to the point of near pain.

  “I’m only trying to convince you that I am no dream.”

  Without warning, he shifted her farther up his thighs. The air was wrenched from her body as the fierce jut of his erection settled in the damp heat between her legs.

  She shifted experimentally, the dull throb in her lower body rejoicing as the tip of him slipped just inside her body. She was prevented from a complete entry, however, as he grasped her hips and regarded her with smoldering eyes.

  “All you’ve done is made more certain this is a fantasy,” he murmured.

  “You need more proof?” she teased.

  “Ah, no, my turn for kisses,” he informed her, drawing her toward his waiting lips. “And I want to kiss you everywhere.”

  With a slow, deliberate motion, Dante branded her lips with a searing kiss. Then moving his mouth over her face, he stroked down the length of her arched neck. Abby’s fingers dug into his shoulders as he pulled her relentlessly upward, catching the hardened nipple between his teeth. She gave a soft cry as he tugged and suckled her, her head thrown backward at the insistent pleasure crashing through her. He turned his attention to the other breast, relentlessly driving her need to a fever pitch.

  She wanted him within her.

  She wanted the powerful thrust of his erection driving her to that wondrous edge and tossing her over.

  But even as she sought to bring them together, he was determinedly lifting her ever upward. She found herself on her unsteady feet as his mouth teased the contracted muscles of her stomach, occasionally nipping at the shivering flesh. She moaned in protest, and then her eyes flew open as he lowered even farther, and his seeking mouth found her moist parting.

  She momentarily struggled to stay upright as his tongue reached out to stroke the highly sensitive flesh.

  There was something utterly decadent about being poised above him as he expertly urged her to the point of no return.

  But then sensation took over, and, closing her eyes, she simply allowed him to pleasure her.

  With tantalizing care he searched to find her center of pleasure, holding her hips in firm hands. Abby gritted her teeth as he gently stroked the building pressure, so enthralled by the searing delight he was creating that she was nearly too late when she abruptly pulled away from his magical touch.

  “No, Dante,” she gasped.

  As if sensing she wished to have him inside her when she came, Dante guided her back to her knees and positioned her so that he could slowly penetrate her softness.

  Abby sighed in relief as she pressed herself ever deeper, knowing that nothing had ever felt so right as having him within her.

  For a moment she merely savored the full sense of completion. But as he remained unnaturally still, she reluctantly lifted her heavy lids to send him a puzzled gaze.

  “Dante?”

  “You started this seduction, Abby,” he rasped. “You can finish it.”

  With a slow smile, she placed her hands upon his chest and slightly lifted her hips before sliding back down.

  Dante moaned, his fingers convulsively clutching her hips. “My God, you are going to kill me. Again.”

  Abby moved,
pulling herself higher before plunging downward. His hips arched off the sandcovered ground, a pained frown forming on his forehead.

  Abby smiled with heady satisfaction, thoroughly enjoying the knowledge that Dante was completely at her mercy.

  For this moment he was hers. As intimately tied to her as if they were one.

  One soul, regardless if he possessed one or not.

  One heart, beating or not.

  One body.

  With slow, deliberate motions, she tormented them both to the edge of frenzy, refusing to increase the pace even as he gasped out a plea for mercy.

  Only when she realized that her muscles were inevitably tightening to an explosive release did she give in to his broken commands and allow him to grasp her hips so he could pump himself forcefully within her.

  He gave a shout of joy at the same moment she violently convulsed about him.

  For a moment out of time, she floated in pure bliss, pressed against the impaling flesh until with a low moan she collapsed against him in utter exhaustion.

  She was shaken by the force of her pleasure. But oddly comforted by the arms that encircled her to press her close against the hardness of his body.

  It was as if she had been thrown from the top of a skyscraper, only to discover she was being caught in the safety of Dante’s embrace.

  Perhaps sensing her tumultuous emotions, Dante softly stroked her tousled curls and placed a comforting kiss on her brow.

  “Are you all right, Abby?”

  She snuggled against his strength. “More than all right.”

  “And you aren’t considering any wanton staking?”

  “Not at the moment.”

  “Good.” He gave a soft chuckle as his lips absently smoothed over her temple. “Unlike most vampires, I enjoy my passion without pain, bloodshed, or the threat of imminent staking.”

  Lazily tilting back her head, she met his glittering gaze. “What about Sasha?”

  A decidedly smug smile curved his lips. “I’ve told you there’s no need to be jealous, my sweet. I put Sasha in my past the moment you arrived on Selena’s doorstep.”

  Her heart gave a jump even as she regarded him with a frown. “I don’t believe you.”

  He arched a brow, his unworldly beauty starkly pronounced as the rosy dawn outside the cave began to dispel the gloom.

  “That Sasha is in my past?”

  “That you even noticed me when I arrived on Selena’s doorstep,” she clarified in dry tones.

  His fingers traced aimless patterns over the bare skin of her back, his expression softened with amusement.

  “Oh, I noticed. How could I not?” His lips twisted with a hint of self-derision. “From the moment you arrived, I was plagued by that damnable purity. It taunted me until I couldn’t get you out of my thoughts. I knew I was going to seduce you even before I knew your name.”

  She gave a choked laugh at his outrageous arrogance. “Could you possibly be a little more full of yourself?”

  He shrugged. “There are some things that are inevitable.”

  Abby paused. She wasn’t much of a philosopher. Hell, she didn’t even know what a philosopher actually did. But she did know that inevitable or fate or providence were not words in her vocabulary.

  “No, there is no such thing as inevitable,” she said firmly.

  “Why do you say that?” he demanded, more curious than offended.

  “Because if fate was set in stone, then I would be a drunken whore working the streets for a cheap bottle of whiskey.”

  Her tone was light, but she felt him stiffen beneath her, his fingers pressing into her skin.

  “Don’t say that,” he rasped.

  She pulled back to regard him with a somber expression. “Why not? It’s true enough. My parents were both alcoholics who shouldn’t have been allowed to have a dog, let alone six children. My father spoke with his fists and did us all a favor when he forgot to return home after a drunken spree. And my mother left her bed only long enough to get a fresh bottle of whiskey. My brothers took off as quickly as they could, and I was left alone to watch my mother die. What sort of destiny do you think was waiting for me?”

  With a firm tug of his hands, he pressed her back against his chest, his chin resting on the top of her head.

  “Destiny has nothing to do with where you came from or who your parents might be,” he said fiercely. “Destiny comes from the heart, and the soul. You could never be anything less than extraordinary, Abby Barlow.”

  Wrapped tightly in his arms, she did feel extraordinary. She wasn’t the grubby little girl who roamed the streets because she was terrified to go home. Or the teenager who kept people at a distance because she didn’t want them to know the truth of her family. Or even the tedious, rapidly aging woman who struggled just to keep a roof over her head.

  She was bold and daring. A vampire’s lover. The woman who held the fate of the world within her.

  A weary smile tugged at her lips.

  God save the world if she was its best hope.

  “I don’t know about extraordinary,” she murmured, “but I’m definitely exhausted.”

  “Then sleep.” His lips pressed gently to her hair. “I promise to keep you safe.”

  Abby allowed her heavy lids to fall shut.

  No doubt she should be making plans and considering her options. Or even returning to the coven to discover if she could find any clue of where the witches might have fled.

  Who knew what might be stalking and closing in on her even now?

  At the moment, however, she preferred to play the role of Scarlett O’Hara to that of Lara Croft.

  She would consider it all . . . tomorrow.

  Dante was a card-carrying cynic.

  How could he not be?

  He was an immortal. He had done everything, seen everything, been with everything.

  Most of them more than once.

  There was nothing left to surprise him.

  Nothing but the woman currently curled in his arms.

  Bloody hell. He had already been amazed by her rare courage. And, of course, dazzled by her beauty. But to have her give herself to him with such raw, delicious abandon.

  Well, that was enough to make even a jaded creature of the night feel a bit stunned.

  A wry smile twisted his lips, and his hand ran softly over her curls. He was unaccustomed to holding a woman for hours as she slept. It was not the way of vampires. They were by nature solitary creatures. And even when together, they didn’t seek such tender intimacy. Passion was all well and good, but once it was done, there was no reason to linger.

  Only humans felt the need to hide animal instincts behind pretty emotional wrappings.

  Perhaps vampires were not nearly as wise as they had always believed, he ruefully conceded.

  Sensitive to Abby’s slightest movement, Dante was aware the moment she began to stir. Tangled black lashes fluttered and then at last lifted to reveal sleepy blue eyes.

  “Dante?” she murmured.

  His arms instinctively tightened. “I’m here, lover.”

  “Did you sleep at all?”

  Dante shrugged. “I have little need for sleep.”

  “Speaking of need, I have to step outside.”

  With a rueful grimace, Abby pulled out of his grasp and pulled on her scattered clothes. Dante rose as well, his gaze never straying from her awkward motions.

  “You won’t wander far?” he warned as she moved toward the entrance of the cave.

  She tossed him a wry glance. “Don’t worry.”

  She might as well have saved her breath, he acknowledged as she slipped out of the cave. He would of course worry. And fret. And damn the all-too-slow setting sun that prevented him from following after her.

  If something happened, he would be utterly helpless to save Abby.

  He paced the cave. That took all of five seconds. He rammed his fingers through his tangled hair and impatiently pulled it back to tie it at his nape. That took n
early three minutes. He paced again. And again. And again.

  Ten minutes later, he was seriously considering the notion of marching from the cave to assure himself that Abby was still alive. Thankfully the sound of her pounding footsteps prevented any hasty death-by-setting-sun; moving as close to the entrance as he dared, he stood directly in her path as she barreled right into his waiting arms.

  His brows swiftly pulled together as he felt her trembling against him.

  “Abby? Is something wrong?”

  She tilted back her head, her eyes wide. “I don’t know. There were . . . shadows out there.”

  Dante tensed in reaction, already considering how he could protect this woman while they were virtually trapped in the cave. Damn, he had not counted on anyone finding them so swiftly.

  “Shadows?”

  “No, that’s not exactly right.” She gave a frustrated shake of her head. “They were more silvery thingamabobs.”

  He gave a lift of his brow. “Maybe it would be better if you tried to speak in English, my love. I don’t know the translation for thingamabobs.”

  Turning about, she pointed imperiously toward the mouth of the cave.

  “There.”

  Edging dangerously close to the fading shaft of sunlight, Dante surveyed the nearby trees. His tension fled as he caught sight of the slender silver forms that darted through the shadows.

  “Ah.”

  “What are they?”

  Dante shrugged. “I suppose you would call them fey creatures.”

  She shifted to stand close at his side, seemingly unaware that her sweet heat was cloaking about him and causing all sorts of delicious reactions.

  “Fairies?”

  “Technically they’re demons,” he murmured in distracted tones.

  “Just great.”

  He glanced down at her tight expression. “You don’t have to worry; they’re very gentle and very shy. Which is why they prefer such isolated places.”

  His words were meant to be comforting, but Abby lifted her hands to press them to her temples.

  “This is insanity.”

  “What?”

  She heaved a deep sigh. “Until two days ago, demons were nothing more than something from a B-rated horror show. Now I’m tripping over them every time I turn around. They can’t just have suddenly appeared.”