Devoured by Darkness

Her eyes widened, but it wasn’t fear that flared in the midnight depths. He smiled as her ready arousal filled the air with a heady perfume.



“No, Tane,” she breathed. “We can’t.”



“We’ve already proven we can,” he said, his voice deepening, thick with need. “With spectacular results.”



Around him he sensed Victor’s clan bustling through the manor house, no doubt discussing the best strategy of dealing with the traitorous Lady Havassy and her mage sidekick. Not to mention the threat of a looming apocalypse.



Discussions Tane should be a part of.



Instead he was wholly focused on the woman who challenged him on every level.



He needed … what?



To prove his dominance? To mark his territory? To reassure himself that she was unharmed and back in his arms where she belonged?



Something knotted in his chest.



Something that was too dangerous to contemplate.



As if battling her own inner demons, Laylah lifted her hands to knot her fingers in his hair, attempting to hide the raw need he could sense spreading through her body.



“I have …” She caught the betraying words. “Things I have to do.”



His lips twisted. Would she ever trust him with her secrets? “Collecting the child?”



Her breath caught at his blunt question. “How did you know?”



“Levet was urged to confess what happened after you snuck away.”



Her eyes narrowed. “Urged or forced?”



He shrugged, his fingers skimming along the lacy line of her bra before headed down the warm satin of her stomach. Pure male satisfaction raced through him as he felt her muscles contract in pleasure beneath his light caress, even as he growled in frustration at the amulet that hung around her neck.



He could savor her delectable heat and her rising passion, but the unique aroma of fresh spring rain was hidden by the witch’s spell.



For reasons he couldn’t explain, he wanted to be wrapped in her distinctive smell.



“I’ve made preparations for our return to the States,” he assured her, his fingers making short work of the button fly so he could tug off her jeans. With a toss they landed next to the sweatshirt.



Her eyes flashed with annoyance, but she made no effort to halt the soft brush of his hand over her bare thigh.



“I don’t need you making my travel plans. I’ll return the same way I came.”



“Brave talk, but you forget that we’re bound together.” He leaned down to nip at the lobe of her ear, not bothering to mention his awareness of her had nothing to do with her magical powers, and everything to do with a male fascinated with a particular woman. “I can feel your lingering weakness.”



She stiffened, as if troubled by the knowledge he could so easily detect her vulnerabilities.



“I’m not powerless.”



“No,” he was swift to agree, his lips tasting a path down the temptation of her throat. Laylah was fragile. Not only had she exhausted herself fighting off the bitch vampire and mage, but she was mentally traumatized by her introduction to her supposed family from hell. Tane, however, understood her need to appear strong. It was a part of who she was. And for all his sins, he would never crush her spirit. “Never powerless, but you’re drained and in need of rest.”



She stirred as his fingers found the edge of her panties, her hip pressing against the thickening length of his erection as her lips parted on a soft moan of anticipation.



Still, she struggled against her body’s need.



“I don’t have the luxury of resting. If those freaks get their hands on the baby …”



“Laylah, Victor has a fleet of private jets at his disposal,” he interrupted in rough tones, abruptly rolling to press her into the mattress. He didn’t want her able to think when he was seducing her. He wanted her consumed by her lust. Consumed by him. He buried his face in the tender curve where her neck met her shoulder. “One is currently being prepared for us.”



She gripped his shoulders, arching in silent invitation as he jerked off his khakis before settling between her legs.



“Vampires fly?” she husked.



He lightly scraped his fangs down her collarbone, using his centuries of experience to unhook her lacy bra and pull it away without her realizing it was missing.



“Only on planes that are built to protect us and with loyal servants that can stand guard,” he absently answered, his attention fully intent on the soft mounds of her breasts that were crested with dusky pink nipples already beaded in anticipation. “We’ll be in Chicago within a matter of hours.”



“Fine …”



Her words ended in a breathy sigh as he took one of the nipples in his mouth, a groan of approval rumbling through him as her hands skimmed down his back, filling an aching need deep inside him.



Gods, he was a vampire not a Were.



Why the hell did he crave her touch with such intensity?



“Of course, it will be another hour before it’s ready to depart,” he said, tracing the underside of her breast with his tongue before heading lower.



So far as he was concerned the private plane could wait an eternity.



She lifted herself onto her elbows, a flush of desire staining her ivory skin as she watched him kiss his way down the curve of her hip, pulling her tiny panties out of his path.



“I need to speak with Victor,” she said, her voice a strangled gasp.



He settled between her legs, nibbling the satin skin of her inner thigh.



“Why?”



She swallowed a scream as he shifted to run his tongue through her damp heat.



“My …” She gripped the bedspread, her breath coming in shallow pants. “My reasons don’t concern you.”



Tane chuckled. His hands shifted to press against her lower stomach, keeping her locked in place as he licked and nibbled and at last sucked on the tiny jewel that hid the source of her pleasure.



She moaned, flopping back on the pillows with a boneless motion.



Still he continued to tease her. Only when he sensed she was on the edge of her climax did he surge upward, looming over her with the tip of his cock nestled at her entrance.



“Do you find it a moral imperative to argue with everyone or is it just me?” he demanded.



She reached up to wrap his hair around her hand, jerking him down for a kiss that was raw with feminine need.



“I don’t like being bullied.”



With one smooth thrust he buried himself deep inside her, their matching groans of satisfaction filling the air.



“There will be no mistake if I decide to bully you, my sweet Laylah,” he rasped.



He devoured her lips in a kiss of unrestrained urgency, slowly arching his hips before sliding back into her tight sheathe. He shuddered as her hips lifted to meet his thrust, her tongue tangling with his in a dance of erotic pleasure.



Someday he intended to spend hours seducing this complex, impossible female.



No, not hours … weeks, perhaps months.



But for now the lust was too new, too potent.



It was a fire that threatened to consume him.



Crushing the urge to sink his fangs deep in her tender flesh, Tane instead concentrated on the exquisite sensation of plunging into the welcoming heat of her body. Muttering words in the language of his ancestors that he hadn’t used in centuries, he set a driving pace that had them both spiraling toward an explosive release.



Savoring Laylah’s rasping attempts to regain her breath, he waited for her tiny shudders to ease before rolling to the side, gathering her tightly in his arms.



He wasn’t cuddling.



Unmated vampires didn’t do cuddling.



They had sex. Period. End of story.



But, Laylah was not like his usual lovers and he wouldn’t put it past her to try and bolt despite the staggering pleasure they’d just shared. He didn’t have the time or energy to chase her down.



Satisfied with the dubious explanation, Tane pressed her head into the curve of his shoulder, once again ruing the amulet that disguised her sweet scent.



“Now, tell me why you want to speak with Victor,” he commanded.



She stiffened, but astonishingly she didn’t try to struggle out of his possessive grip.



Not that he was stupid enough to believe she’d conceded defeat. No. This was merely a temporary reprieve. One that would last only as long as she believed she needed him.



Tilting back her head, she met his searching gaze.



“My …” She halted, considering her words. “A woman claiming to be my mother is being held captive. She must be found and released.”



“I know.” He cupped her cheek in his hand. “Victor has promised to send Uriel in search of the female.”



He didn’t add that it would be several days before Victor could negotiate with the local coven to cast a spell to find where the female was hidden.



Her brows snapped together. “Without even asking if I might want to join in the hunt? Typical.” Her expression made Tane glad there wasn’t a sharpened stake handy. “She’s my mother.”



He met her accusing glare without flinching, refusing to apologize. She could have her pride, but he’d learned a brutal lesson in allowing emotions to overcome common sense. Until Laylah had the opportunity to calm down and fully investigate what she’d discovered in the cellar of the London town house she wasn’t going to be making the decisions.



“No, you had it right the first time,” he said. “She’s a strange female who claims to be your mother.”



Her lips thinned. “Do you have a point?”



“There’s a good chance the woman is nothing more than clever bait.”



“Bait for what?”



“You.”



She shook her head. “That’s impossible.”



“Why? Boris and Natasha made it clear they were willing to go to any lengths to get their grubby hands on the child.” He smiled at the surprise etched on her face at his reference to Bullwinkle. No doubt she assumed he spent his leisure hours sharpening swords and eating children for breakfast. She wouldn’t be alone. “How better than to blackmail you into simply handing the babe over in exchange for your long lost mother?”



“Maybe, but unless they’re prophets, they couldn’t have known I would be coming to the town house,” she countered. “Let alone hiding in their cellar so they could spring the trap.”



“The gargoyle admitted that the mage sensed your presence.”



“Only after we were there. They didn’t know we were coming,” she stubbornly insisted, a part of her obviously wanting to believe in the vision of her mother. “There was no way they could have set up such an elaborate hoax.”