"No, no, no, you got me all wrong. That was just theater... a little drama, baby. I'm cool."
She walked up to him and when she slipped her fingers in his pants he shuddered at her touch. She snatched the C-note out of his belt, and flung it in his face. He'd forgotten about it, but her scent almost made him reach out and pull her to him. Hope would do that sorta thing to a brother after a hunt. Even now he had to steel himself against the insistent incoming female vampire calls. They were on fire and lighting up his senses like a Friday night police station switchboard. Red pulses were everywhere in his brain, but there was one... one that was so primal, so fantastically alluring that he was almost afraid to even admit it was there. Definitely female, whatever it was. And it definitely was not Damali. It was coming strong from a distance... All right. Focus.
He led Damali to a densely wooded area where he knew deer were plentiful and placed her by a tree. "I'll be right back. This won't take long, I promise."
She folded her arms and looked up at the moon. He was getting on her nerves so badly, she wanted to scream. It didn't have to be all this. Truly, it didn't. This was the most reckless, dangerous, unnecessary... Then she froze.
She watched him walk into the underbrush and disappear, but a long, black velvet tail parted the foliage before it vanished. She took a deep breath. She knew masters and second-generations could shape-shift, but seeing Carlos do it was a whole other story... she'd only been teasing when she'd asked him to show her that before. And they were still connected. She could feel the power rushing through him, rushing through her. Oh, no, it had never been like this. Yeah, they'd been hanging pretty tight, but there were areas of his mind that he kept telling her not to wander into. He had a black box around them. This was one of those areas. She knew it the moment his focus wavered. Sometimes it even gave him pause. His blood lust side.
Suddenly she heard branches snapping, a low growl that cut through the night and made the crickets stop singing. She heard a hard thud. He'd brought something big down fast. The desire that ran through him made the hair stand up on her arms. Then she felt it. All the adrenaline, energy, everything that had been coursing through him before, during, and after the race. Yeah, he'd taken her to a safe private glen a few times to make love, and had left her side to go discreetly feed himself from deer. But she'd never experienced the quiet terror of the woods like this, never connected to the lurking predatory power within it. Never understood the true danger hidden in the underbrush.
She glanced around, and felt for her blade. Tonight she needed it. He was on a mission. She'd definitely been playing when she'd asked him to shape-shift. Pure curiosity. Hadn't understood what that meant. And the moment she thought it, two golden eyes appeared in the thicket, and she could feel something huge, were-like, stalking her.
Damali took slow steps, drawing away from the presence until her back hit the tree. But she was forced to hold onto it for support as a rough, catlike tongue licked up her leg, a strong velvet jaw forced them open, and she could feel the rough wetness slide between the crack of her butt, come up her front, opening everything in its wake, then taste her navel, dragging a rough moist trail up her torso.
Her sphincter muscle twitched and contracted at the delicious invasion, but she tensed. Uh, uh, not the back door, when he was like this. No way. She could feel him probe every orifice on her. But the eyes in the bushes hadn't moved, so she knew he hadn't physically touched her. She heard a low constant rumble that sounded oddly like a threatening purr.
Then just as suddenly, the sensation passed, and Carlos stepped out of the bushes. Carlos, the man, that is. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, looked at her with longing, then glanced up at the moon. "I have got to get you home."
She wasn't about to argue with him as he walked toward her, his motions still fluid like the thing he'd temporarily been. His breaths were ragged, his gaze intense. Something was definitely wrong with his vibe. Vampires were smooth; tonight he was...
"Sorry about that," he murmured. "You smell so f**king good, and..." He closed his eyes and breathed deeply for a moment. "Like I said," he whispered, opening his eyes slowly and holding her stunned gaze in the moonlight. "There are some things you do not want me to do." Then he smiled, fangs coming down without censure. "Unless you want me to?"
She lifted her skirt and unsheathed baby Isis in response.
"Please, don't do that," he said, his voice a tense plea. He wiped his brow and took a deep breath. "Not while serving a red thong underneath that skirt. Put it away."
The shudder that ran through him made her hands shake as she fumbled with the weapon and tried to sheath it. He closed his eyes and walked away from her while she did, but she could feel the blatant desire wafting around her. In all the times they'd been together, she'd never seen him like this. He was so aroused it was turning her on, and yet, she didn't know why. This was crazy. Curiosity was drugging her, and the lingering urge to mark her own territory was lighting a dangerous fuse within her. She had to know what the female vamps had been talking about. And if there was something they could do for him that she couldn't...
"What's the double plunge at V-point?"
He turned around so fast that she backed up two steps.
"Don't ask me that shit right now! Are you crazy?"
"All right," she said softly. "Okay." But the image that slammed into her brain nearly set her on fire. Apparently the double plunge required her to bear fang... They were right, she couldn't accommodate him. And it disturbed her, deeply, that they could do something apparently mindblowing for him. But there was also no way she was going to sit at home and watch TV with Marlene, while he prowled the streets in this state. He wasn't going to make it through the night without answering a vamp call.
"Damali, you have to understand that there are some things about my world... It won't mean anything." Carlos tilted his head as though listening to something in the distance and breathed out slowly. His voice dropped an octave. "It won't mean what it means when I'm with you. Let me take you home. You don't want me to take you like this."
Furious, she stood tall, pulled out her blade, hiked up her skirt on one side, and cut her thong with it, then let the flimsy red fabric drop to the grass.
The minute the scrap of material hit the ground, she froze. The Isis blade was not supposed to be used like that, and she knew it. This thing had passed through the twelve major religions and then had come from the Vatican. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. But she was on a mission. No vamp female was calling her man out into the streets over her. She touched the blade with shaky fingers then cast it to the ground.
She turned away, walked off a few paces, and got down on her hands and knees, then glanced over her shoulder. She could see him trembling where he stood. Knew he'd be on her in seconds. But also knew that tonight, whatever he did, it would be over quick. Ten hard strokes and brother would be done.
"Go for it," she told him, her voice low and sure. "Just don't turn into something that's gonna scare me."
He walked over to her slowly, knelt behind her. His palm caressed her exposed cheek, and he groaned before he melted na**d against her tense body. He covered her like a hot seal, drawing a hard gasp from her. She braced for impact when he paused at her still-virgin opening, hovered just outside of it, then wrested himself away from it. She released her breath when he sought refuge where he normally entered her. Oh, this man was close to the edge.
He filled her so hard and so fast that she nearly choked. There was no gentle nuzzle at her neck. He held her by her waist with one arm, and braced himself against the dirt and grass with the other. No fore-play, nothing. No tender words, no whispered endearments. Just deep pants keeping time with his hard strokes, his body hot and sweating, lunging.
She couldn't see him. She peeped at his extended arm through squinted eyes to make sure his form hadn't changed. If he had, she didn't want to see it - not while he was in her... But the size of his forearm was nearly twice what it normally was. Veins were standing up beneath the skin on the back of his hand. It was almost as though he was drawing strength right out of the ground. A steel biceps bulged and released his weight near her shoulder, and what was moving inside of her felt like granite.
Her arms and legs were trembling as she tried to hold herself up and take his thrusts. Pleasure and pain became one as the width of his shaft stretched her to near-tearing, but the length hit every glorious place that she needed it to, and then some. She dropped her head forward, breathing with his rhythm, and felt the night air thicken around her when her cries blended with the other noises of the forest.
A long, soulful growl came up from his abdomen with a shudder that made her clutch the earth. The timbre of it was so primal that it shot hunger through every opening she had. It made her throw her head back and dip her spine into a deep sway and release a primal call of her own.
He threw his head back, and shuddered.