Dark Highland Fire

Too close to Lucien.

"Just be still," Rowan said quickly, recognizing the sensual rasp in her voice and hating that she couldn't contain that evidence of her reaction to his closeness. She cleared her throat, but it didn't help. "Relax, and don't be afraid. It ..." She swallowed hard against the stomach-roiling memory of the thralled human. "It makes it much more difficult."

That instruction met with an amused grunt. Gabriel opened one eye to look at her. "I've heard three-year-old werewolves with scarier growls than you. I wouldn't worry."

She glowered at him, indignant. "I'm scarier than you think I am."

His only response was an unconvincing Mmm, and Rowan knew her time for stalling was up. She said a quick prayer to the Goddess Morgaine that she could tolerate this blood, that one feeding would be enough to restore her. For with this man she didn't think she could afford more than once.

Then she moved in.

She took care to touch him as lightly as possible, but it did nothing to dull the knife edge of Rowan's need. Now that she had decided to feed, that her body knew it was about to receive sustenance, it seemed that every one of her senses was filled with nothing but Gabriel. Her supplicant. Her victim.

Hers.

She pushed the odd thought away even as she felt her incisors lengthen and become even sharper. However much attraction there was between them, it was only that, nothing more. Nothing unusual, nothing difficult to suppress. Nothing.

Rowan closed her eyes, sliding her hands up his chest. Nothing, she told herself firmly even as she nuzzled against the side of his throat, unable to deny herself the pleasure of filling her senses with him in the moment before they joined. He was so wonderfully alive. After so many months of keeping company with those who would rather exude death, Gabriel's nearness filled her with a sudden savage joy. She heard his quick intake of breath, felt his pulse begin to skip along more quickly beneath her hands. And as she bared her teeth, hesitating a breath away from fulfillment, she realized she would have to cling tightly to what control she had left. She should never have waited so long.

Oh, it's been so long.

She bit in, flesh giving way to fang, and her senses burst in a slow, shimmering implosion. Rowan barely felt Gabriel's jerk as her teeth slipped into him, as her mouth was filled with rich, pulsing life. It was like nothing she'd ever tasted, she thought as a low sound of pleasure escaped her throat. Dark wine flavored with the light of the moon. She smelled it, tasted it, felt it as she never had anything else, moving her hands to his back and clinging more tightly as sensation rocketed through her. And within her, at her center, the flame that sustained her magic flickered into life once more and began its seductive dance.

Unable to help herself, Rowan rubbed against him like a cat in heat, her nipples tightening into taut buds beneath the thin corset and sending tiny shock waves through her each time they brushed his chest. Her fingers bit harder into his skin, the fabric of his shirt in danger of giving way beneath nails that were sharpening to claws in her excitement. And still that delicious elixir flowed from him, filling her until she could no longer tell where she ended and Gabriel began. The joining was intense, erotic. But just out of reach and yet frustratingly close was the promise of more. She had always felt it there, each time she fed. This time, though, was different. It would have terrified her if she hadn't been caught in a hurricane of hunger and lust.

Because this time she sensed that if she reached far enough, she might be able to have not just more, but all.

She heard a soft noise, Gabriel's broken moan as he slid his hands up to tangle in her hair. Caught in the spell of their joining, Rowan lapped his neck ever more greedily while she suckled. Dimly she heard herself pun-in pleasure, felt herself arching against her captive. There was no leveling off with Gabriel, she thought with dazed wonder. Only a stoking of her passion higher and higher, until it threatened to consume them both. It was madness. Her hunger only seemed to grow with every pull of her lips. For the first time in her life, that elusive promise of completion seemed almost close enough to touch.

Rowan drank deeply, wanting, needing to get closer, to be inside his skin with him. She began to move more urgently against him, the heat between them threatening to ignite into an inferno. Even right up against him it wasn't close enough. She rose onto her toes, sliding her hands lower to grip his hips and press him into the liquid heat at the juncture of her thighs. That sudden exquisite pressure had her instantly trembling at the edge of what she knew would be a blinding climax.

Yes, love, there ... please, there ...

Stop, I have to stop.

The dim warning barely registered, lost as she was. Gabriel was hard, deliciously hard against her, and his harsh breaths as she pulsed against him coiled her tighter, tighter. Desperately, Rowan clung to him, drawing deep, needing more. She was rushing toward some shimmering peak on a river of molten sensation, mouth and hips moving together in the ancient dance of her people. But it had never been like this, never brought her so close to coming apart.

She clawed at his shirt, desperate for contact. The thin material tore easily, shredding apart and baring a broad, muscular chest that radiated the heat she couldn't seem to get close enough to. Rowan surfaced with a gasp, tearing her mouth from Gabriel's neck to crush against lips that were as eager as her own. His kiss was hot, hard, demanding. He dug his hands into her hair and held her there as his tongue swept into her mouth, plundering, rubbing against her own until Rowan could no longer hear her own breathless cries for want of him.

There was a tearing sound as the corset was ripped from her body and thrown to the floor. She barely felt it, reveling in Gabriel's harsh groan when skin finally connected to skin. They fit together as though they had been created solely for each other, her curves molding against the hard planes of his broad chest. The taste of him was still on her lips, in her mouth, making her dizzy with need. And still he ground against her, the tip of his cock pressing insistently against the thin silk of her hot pants. He could be inside her in seconds, she realized. All she had to do was let him. All she had to do was let go ...

STOP!

But the only thing that stopped her was the blinding light of her climax, shocking her with its ferocity. She gasped, then gave a hoarse cry as it crashed through her, tossing her head back as she rode wave upon wave of pleasure while strong hands held her tightly. Then his mouth was back on hers, velvet lips open and hot as he tasted his blood on her tongue. Rowan moaned softly as he crushed her to him, melting against the solid heat of him. Gabriel, she thought languidly. That one name was now imbued with all the emotion, all the sensation that had shaken her to her core. All the blessed things that for her had no name now joined to form his. Gabriel. Rowan was dimly aware of being lifted as he moved to settle her on the bed. Impossible though it seemed, though her thirst had been slaked, her hunger had only intensified. And she wanted, how she wanted more.

But there can be no more. And I can't let this happen.

Slowly she returned to herself, forcing herself into awareness no matter how much her mind and body wanted to stay adrift. And though his essence was still shimmering through her, setting off tiny explosions within her as his blood mingled with her own, Rowan knew she had gone far enough. Too far. But it was time to end this and salvage what she could. To give herself now was to make a promise she could not keep, not to this stranger who stirred her, not to anyone.

Her hands came up to push at him as he began to press her back against the mattress.

"Don't," she said softly. "Don't. You have to go. Please."

"But we're only just getting started, love," he murmured, caressing her gently as he settled himself against her. Rowan felt her stomach clench as she looked into Gabriel's face, getting her first clear look at what she'd done to him. His singular eyes were glazed, but glowed with almost desperate desire. And she had done this to him, with her carelessness. Fear shot through her, like ice in her veins. It seemed laughable that just a short while ago she'd been afraid that he might hurt her. After all that had happened, it was clear that she herself posed one of the greatest dangers of all. Truly, what more could she find to destroy? Yet if the Goddess was kind, there was still time to rectify this mistake. Rowan pushed again, harder this time, overcome with shame.

"Gabriel," she repeated, her voice quavering slightly in her growing desperation. "If you don't stop, I'm going to have to make you."

No response as he kissed a line down her jaw, sparking the first unwanted flickers of renewed desire even as her gut twisted with guilt. She, who had condemned the vampires for thralling their victims, had turned out to be no better. She'd just used beauty and sex instead of dark magic. It was not the way of the Dyadd. It was not her way. But then nothing about this encounter had been.

She had lost control. It was unconscionable. And it was dangerous. Perhaps, she thought, seething with anger at her own foolishness, she would have been better matched to Lucien after all. It seemed they both had a tendency to destroy things with their emotions.

She looked back at Gabriel, who had only been trying to help, and knew he would pay the price. But better now than later. She didn't understand her insane, overwhelming reaction to him, and didn't particularly want to. But one thing was crystal clear.

This could never happen again.

"I'm sorry," she said with true regret, "but this is for the best."

He spoke again, and though his words were rough with desire and difficult to make out, they made her blood run cold.

"Don't go," he sighed against her neck. "Need you ... my only ..."

Her reaction was reflexive, and instantaneous. She coiled her renewed power into a ball and pushed outward, hard. One second Gabriel was on top of her, the next he had flown through the air and slammed against the wall in the hallway. The force with which he hit caused the furniture to shudder, and Rowan leaped from the bed, rushing to the doorway, hoping with all her might she hadn't hurt him.

Apparently, however, the man was built like a rock. Gabriel sat crumpled against the wall, rubbing the back of his head and looking as though he didn't quite know where he was. At the sight of her, though, his thoughts seemed to clear with unfortunate speed. Rowan fought back a cringe as his eyes, only minutes before fogged with desire, blazed back at her with violent anger. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">