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Burn For Me (Phoenix Fire 1)

Page 40

And only the beast was left.

Eve smiled even as she held onto him as tightly as she could. His thrusts were deep, driving, plunging into her. The rhythm was fast and frantic. He held her hands down against the sheets. Pounded into her again and again and she loved it.

The rush of pleasure built fast. No gentle peak. A tidal wave that flooded over her and took her breath.

It didn’t stop. He didn’t stop. More. More. He rolled her over on the bed. Lifted her onto her knees. Surrounded her with his body and his heat and his power and—

Took.

Deeper. Harder. Her hands fisted in the sheets. She yanked, pulling the sheets toward her even as she arched her hips back against him.

The release hadn’t stopped. The pleasure pounded through her. Again and again and the scent of sex filled the air around her.

He was so big, filling her completely. His mouth was on her shoulder. Licking. Biting. She couldn’t suck in a deep breath. Couldn’t do anything but feel.

The pleasure hit her again, hollowing her out, leaving her shaking and weak.

He came inside her, exploding with a growl as his hold tightened around her. He held her so close. Held her so tight.

Right there, with him, death seemed so far away.

But she knew . . . the monsters were coming for her. Soon, they’d be at the door.

Her scream woke him at dawn. Eve was thrashing in the covers, struggling to escape.

Cain reached for her. “Eve?”

Her eyes opened, and she screamed.

What the hell? He pulled her close.

She was shaking. “V-vampire . . .”

“There aren’t any vampires here, baby.” Just a nightmare. So why was his heart racing so fast? “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

“Blood . . .” She sounded lost. Her eyes were open, but was she seeing him?

Cain didn’t think so. “There isn’t any blood.”

“I hate . . . fire.”

His body tensed. “There’s no fire.” His fingers tightened on her. She felt too cold in his hands. Trembles shook her body, and she didn’t sound like his Eve.

I don’t want her lost.

He pressed a kiss to her lips. “Wake up.”

Her breath came in low pants.

“Eve, wake—”

“Vampires are coming,” she whispered. Her voice was as cold as her body. “We have to stop them.”

Cain shook his head. “There aren’t any vamps here. You’re safe. You’re—”

He heard it. A thud from downstairs, at the door. His head whipped to the right as tension tightened his muscles. Wyatt and his men? Already? No way should they already be at the cabin. The place was secure.

He leaped from the bed, but Eve grabbed his hand. “Stop the vampires.”

It wasn’t the vampires. Vamps didn’t attack during the day. That wasn’t the way they operated. Most of them holed up underground during the daylight hours.

He went to the window. Searched below. Saw no one. But that just meant his prey was good at hiding. “Stay here,” he told Eve.

She was sitting up in bed, frowning. Her gaze didn’t look lost and when she said, “Cain?” he knew that she was back with him.

“We’ve got company.” And he was never a good host. He yanked on a pair of jeans and headed down the stairs. He heard the squeak of the hardwood floor behind him and knew that Eve was following.

Figured.

He eased open the front door. Listened for every sound and whisper. No cars had approached. He would have heard them. Their guest had to have come in on foot.

Cain inhaled, taking in all the scents. He focused his hearing, narrowed it down until he heard . . .

The creak of hardwood floor. One step. Two.

Eve, coming after him.

Another creak. And the smell of fresh blood.

Cain whirled around. The threat wasn’t outside, not any longer. He lunged for the stairs, his heart racing. Eve was heading toward him and she didn’t even realize . . .

A vampire stood two steps behind her.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Eve saw Cain’s eyes widen as he lunged forward. The air seemed to rush against her skin, and, before she could turn around, she felt hard arms wrap around her waist. She was yanked back against someone—a male—and she felt something sharp press against her throat.

“Stand down, phoenix.”

At the vamp’s words, Cain froze. “Ryder, you’re begging to feel the fire.”

Ryder? The vamp who’d sold her out? Her teeth ground together as her nails sank into his arm. She arched her neck and tried to pull away from him. No dice. That vamp’s grip was hard—and painful.

“Where is she?” he snarled into her ear.

Um, she was standing right there. Standing there, and feeling lost. Ryder had known that Cain was a phoenix? All along?

First Trace, now Ryder. She was feeling left behind on the whole paranormal-knowledge bit. Did everyone else know that the ancient phoenix myth was real?

Her breath heaved out and her eyes found Cain’s.

“Where?” So much fury as Ryder nearly screamed the word.

Those were claws at her throat. So much for the scratches that she was leaving on his arm. The guy was about to cut her throat open. Eve stopped fighting, for the moment. With her struggles, she was just making his claws press harder against her skin.

“You’re dead,” Cain promised him.

Ryder just laughed and the sound was wild. “Don’t you think I f**king know that? Without her, I’m dying. Day by damn day.” He spun Eve to face him. “You saw her, didn’t you? When Wyatt took you, I know you saw her.”

Okay, she was dealing with a psycho vampire and she didn’t have a weapon. But she had something better. She had Cain.

“She’s still alive, isn’t she?” Ryder asked, shaking Eve. “She’s—”

Eve kneed him in the groin as hard as she could. She didn’t know if the move actually hurt him or just caught him by surprise, but either way, his grip eased and his claws—two-inch long, razor-sharp claws—pulled away from her throat.

That instant was all she needed. She stumbled back. Cain leaped forward.

“You’re dying, ass**le,” Cain snarled and put his hand on Ryder’s chest. Flames were already rising from Cain’s fingers. Eve scrambled back. Vampires burned fast. She’d seen it happen once before.

Twice.

Ryder would go up like a firecracker and—

He was laughing.

Not burning, laughing.

How was that even possible?

Cain tried to pull back. Ryder grabbed Cain’s hand and shoved it harder against his own chest. The fire burned between them, melting away Ryder’s shirt, but the vamp wasn’t dying.

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