Turning, he took two steps and pressed her up against the wall. Her ankles locked behind his back as she eagerly sought his mouth.
“Be careful,” he warned softly. “My fangs are very sharp.”
She nodded wordlessly, then shocked the hell out of him by stroking one with her tongue. A shudder of pleasure worked its way through him at this evidence of her acceptance of him.
Supporting her weight with one arm, he reached up with the other to palm one of her breasts. He lowered his mouth to the other and again worshipped it with teeth and tongue.
He couldn’t wait much longer.
As if hearing his thoughts, Sarah reached down between them and took his cock in her hand. Roland groaned as she stroked him, squeezed him, drew her thumb in circles around the moist, sensitive crown.
“I want you inside me,” she murmured, her breath warm on his ear.
Raising his head, he met her heated gaze and told her hoarsely, “Take me there.”
Eyes fastened to his, she guided him to her moist entrance and drew him in.
He groaned. She was so warm and tight.
Sarah sucked in a breath as Roland sank to the hilt, loving the heavy feel of him.
His eyes glowed fiercely as he began to move, the amber bright against his tanned skin and dark eyebrows. His fangs were extended. Fangs he was careful to keep from cutting or puncturing her while he took her nipple between his teeth and stroked it with his tongue, sending shards of pleasure slicing through her.
“Roland,” she moaned, burying her hands in his hair and holding him to her. “You feel so good.”
His hands tightened. His thrusts increased. Quicker. Harder.
“Yes,” she groaned, urging him against her with her legs, head falling back against the wall.
He trailed his lips up her breast, over her collarbone to her neck, found the pulse beating frantically just beneath the surface.
Was he going to bite her?
It wasn’t fear that raced through her at the thought, but excitement.
He stroked his tongue across the skin. A gentle grazing of his teeth followed as he drew his free hand down her stomach, delving into the thatch of curls to tease her clit.
It was too much. Sarah splintered apart in his arms, crying out as a second climax even stronger than the first careened through her.
Roland joined her with a groan, her body milking his as wave after wave of pleasure buffeted her.
When the last ripples had faded, he leaned his forehead against the wall beside her, his damp cheek pressed to hers. Their breath came in gasps as he wrapped both arms around her and held her tightly.
“That was … incredible,” she said between breaths, sliding her arms around his neck and holding him close, though her sated body wanted to sink into a boneless heap at his feet.
He raised his head, drawing back just enough to look down at her.
She smiled and cupped his face with one hand. “Those eyes,” she murmured, entranced by their glow.
He nuzzled her palm, pressing a kiss to its center.
“You’re so beautiful,” she told him and couldn’t care less that the word was more often used to describe women. He was beautiful. And despite his apparent misgivings, she liked seeing him like this. Eyes as bright as the moon. So consumed by passion that he couldn’t hide his true nature from her.
His brow furrowed. “I almost bit you.”
“I know.” She touched a finger to his tempting (and talented) mouth. He had the softest lips she had ever kissed.
“I’m sorry.”
Remembering his previous experience with women, she gave him a quick kiss. “It’s okay, Roland. You didn’t scare me.” She felt heat climb into her cheeks. “To be honest”—she leaned forward to whisper in his ear—“it turned me on.”
“It did?”
She leaned back again so she could see him.
His face was lit with the most adorable, boyish smile she had seen on him thus far, making her doubly glad she had told him.
“Really.”
He gave her a quick, buoyant kiss that made her smile. When he drew back, she was sorry to see his fangs had retracted.
Easing her feet to the floor, he held her steady until her rubbery legs would support her. “The desire to bite you was almost overpowering,” he admitted, “but I have to resist it. As addictive as I find your scent, I’m afraid your blood would be even more so and make me want to keep coming back for more.” He brushed her hair back from her face and gently cupped her cheek. “I can’t risk infecting you, Sarah. I won’t risk it. I care too much about you.”
She covered his hand with hers and held it there, feeling surprisingly disappointed, yet touched that he cared so much for her he would deny himself to keep her safe.
Sending him a mischievous look from beneath her lashes, she murmured, “I guess you’ll just have to keep tasting me in other ways and places.”
Grinning, he shook his head. “You’re an amazing woman.”
Adopting an exaggeratedly somber look, she nodded. “I know.”
Roland laughed and scooped her up into his arms. “Let’s go try out that whirlpool tub.”
Chapter 13
All was quiet when Bastien awoke. Glancing at the clock, he saw it was late afternoon. The other vampires would still be asleep, rousing only when the sun set. He supposed it was his age that allowed him to wake as early as he did. Perhaps the longer one was infected, the weaker the side effects became, requiring less rest and allowing brief exposure to sunlight.
His thoughts turned to Roland and the woman as he dressed, then began negotiating the underground maze.
Sarah Bingham.
After this morning’s failed attempt had cost him twelve more men—all human—Bastien had set Tanner to seeking out information on her, wanting to know what her role in all of this was.
Apparently Sarah was neither a member of the network nor Roland’s Second. She was a thirty-year-old music theory professor, who—as far as he knew—had never laid eyes on Roland until Bastien and his men had staked him out for the sunrise practically in her backyard.
She was a complication he had not anticipated, but one that may work to his advantage. Killing Roland was his top priority. He would accomplish that feat using any means necessary.
Crossing the basement’s main room, he climbed the stairs.
The farmhouse’s living room was empty. There were only four humans in his employ now. He could hear three of them trolling for snacks in the kitchen.
Bastien entered the study as the fourth, Tanner, pulled a stack of papers from the humming printer.
“Is that tonight’s list?”
Tanner jumped, then turned to regard him with a worrisome amount of relief. “You’re awake. Finally.”
That couldn’t be good.
“What’s wrong?”
Tanner rolled his eyes and set the papers on the neat desktop. “It’s Keegan. He’s been calling every five minutes, wanting to meet with you.”
“Did he say what the problem was?”
“No, he just kept cursing me out for not waking you up. Then cursed me out some more for not telling him where you live so he could do it himself.”
“Thank you for that.” Bastien was still unsure he had done the right thing by trusting the biochemist and didn’t want to leave himself and the others vulnerable.
“Sure thing. Maybe you should call before he has a stroke.” Lowering his voice, he muttered, “Or before I strangle him.”
Bastien smiled. “I’ll wait and go see him when it’s dark.”
“You want backup?”
“No, I can handle him.”
Tanner laughed. “I’m sure you can.”
The phone rang.
Tanner glanced at the caller ID, lifted the receiver, then slammed it down again. “How’s the hunt going?”
“More slowly than I anticipated.”
“Anything I can do?”
“Just what you’re already doing.”
Nodding, Tanner rounded the desk and held out the papers. “Here’s tonight’s assignments.”
Each page had a name and address at the top and Mapquest directions below it.
“There seems to be an endless supply, doesn’t there?”
Tanner’s lips tightened. “Yes, there is.”
Dr. Montrose Keegan fell into the arrogant little prick category. Bastien did not like him. However, that dislike was not intense enough to deter him from accepting an opportunity very few vampires had been given.
Montrose’s twenty-three-year-old brother, Casey, had succumbed to the virus four years earlier. (Drunken college students were easy prey for vampires, which was why so many of Bastien’s men had been under twenty-five years of age when they were transformed.)As commonly happened, the vampire who turned him had almost immediately abandoned him.
Bastien had found Casey and Montrose shortly thereafter and had taken the young vampire under his wing, offering him shelter and instruction as long as Montrose helped him search for a cure and Casey agreed to keep their lair’s location a secret, even from his brother.
The arrangement had worked well so far. Unfortunately, Montrose forgot on occasion just who wielded the power in this game, and needed to be reminded.
Bastien silently let himself into the single man’s house and followed the curses and frustrated thumps and thuds to the basement lab.
His back to Bastien, Montrose stood beside a cluttered desk with a phone receiver held to his ear. Swearing foully, he slammed the receiver down.
Bastien let his fangs descend their full length, made sure his irritation was enough to make his eyes glow, then put on a burst of preternatural speed so he seemed to appear out of nowhere directly in front of the good doctor.
Montrose was so startled, his feet left the floor. “Bastien! Where … H-H-How did you get in?”
Bastien curled his lip, flashing a bit of fang. “Tanner Long is both my employee and my friend. Would you care to explain why you verbally abused and tried to berate him into disturbing my rest?”
Sweat beading on his forehead, the average-size, prematurely balding man took a nervous step backward. “I-It was an emergency.”
