My Immortal Knight 2: Love Bites Read online

  With her jeans sagging mid-thigh, Darcy summoned what was left of her pride. “I make my own choices.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. You haven’t any choices. I’m making them for you. And by God, you will be mine.” His hands slid over her buttocks and he tugged up her pants.

  Darcy fumbled with the zipper and snap, and then gasped again when he spun her and reached for the halves of her halter. His hands smoothed the fabric over her breasts, and then he fastened the clasp at the back of her neck. Trembling, Darcy didn’t resist when one hand grasped her crotch and the other palmed her breast.

  “Mine, Darcy,” he whispered in her ear.

  * * * * *

  Quentin followed close on Darcy’s heels as she sped to her front door. All night long he’d simmered. The sight of her hands wrapped around Joe Garcia’s cock as the other man gained his satisfaction had boiled like an ulcer in his gut.

  After two more fruitless stops at vampire dens, he finally had her to himself. He’d toyed with her breasts and sweet cunt at each of the hells until her fevered gaze and the aroma of her arousal had nearly driven him mad.

  Joe had watched Quentin’s seduction, impotent, his fists on his thighs, his gaze bleak. When he’d finally dropped them at the curb in front of her house, he’d mumbled something about making reports and gunned the engine as he left.

  This time Quentin would have her to himself. No interruptions—and a bed beneath her back while he ravaged her senses. After tonight, she’d have no doubts about which man she preferred between her legs.

  Quentin didn’t heed the voice in the back of his mind, warning him to woo her. He would take her.

  Darcy fumbled with the keys and dropped them.

  Quentin smiled, grim satisfaction filling him. She had reason to be nervous. He was going to eat her up. Wring every drop of sweet cream from her she had to give. After he taught her a lesson.

  He stepped beside her and snatched the keys from the ground. Holding them out for her to take from him, he relished the tremor he detected when her hands accepted the keys.

  This time she opened the door and shoved it wide. “I’m tired. Goodnight,” she said over her shoulder, heading straight for her bedroom.

  When she slammed her door closed, his hand stopped it, and he shoved it open and advanced into the room, stalking her.

  “You’re angry. And I suppose—from your viewpoint—you have reason to be.”

  His smile grew as she babbled and took a step backward for each he advanced.

  He admired the stubborn tilt of her chin. She didn’t lack courage. “But you haven’t any right to your anger. You don’t own me.”

  When her thighs met the side of the mattress, she tried to sidestep him, but his hands grasped the edges of her miniscule top and he tore it down the middle, halving the slender strips of fabric. Perfect for what he had in mind.

  She backed onto the mattress and then crawled on all fours away from him.

  Quentin leapt onto the bed and straddled her back. His hand smoothed over her bare skin and cupped her shoulders.

  She shuddered beneath him, the quaking raising his already rock-hard cock. “All right. You win. I want to fuck just as much as you do. You’ve been driving me crazy all night.”

  He traced her spine with a finger. “I’m not going to give you what you want. Not until you beg. And then, I’ll make you wait some more before I let you cream.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Why? Don’t you trust me?”

  “You have me pinned to the bed. Why should I?”

  He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Because I’m about to become your whole world.” Her answering shiver of delight was all he’d hoped to arouse.

  He stretched his hand along her arm until he reached her wrist. Her arm tensed, but she didn’t resist when he tied the fabric strip around her wrist in a knot. She was curious. More curious than afraid. Foolish girl!

  He eased off her and dragged her closer to the headboard, and then looped the fabric around one iron bar and tied it. He did the same with her other wrist. “Now, get on your knees.”

  Darcy’s breath was harsh and coming faster. She struggled against her bonds and pulled herself into a kneeling position.

  He reached around her body to the snap of her jeans and opened them, then smoothed the rough fabric over her hips and down her legs.

  Raising one knee at a time, she helped him remove the pants.

  He tossed them to the floor. “Do I have to tie your legs?”

  “No,” she replied, her voice small.

  Having subdued her, Quentin was ready to begin his campaign. “What do you want, Darcy?”

  Her back quivered. “For you to touch me.”

  With his hands on the soft skin of her buttocks, he almost lost his resolve. He parted her cheeks and pressed his thumb against her asshole. “Like this?”

  “Quentin?” her voice rose on a plaintive note.

  “No?” He leaned down and tongued the rosy ring. “Like this?”

  “Quentin!” Her breath caught.

  “Is that all you want me to do?”

  “No. I want you to fuck me.”

  He kissed each cheek. “Well, we all have our disappointments.”

  He left the bed and walked out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

  “Quentin? Quentin!”

  With her angry curses ringing in his ears, he strode into her kitchen and found a bottle of lousy Scotch. Pouring two fingers into a tumbler, he savored the bite of the liquor and willed his flesh to obey his command.

  He wasn’t one to ponder over the deeper emotions, so he didn’t question why this particular woman raised his possessive hackles. He just accepted that she was his. It was time he took a mate.

  He imagined her still perched with her shapely ass in the air, fighting her restraints. She’d spit nails at him right about now.

  It was going to be a long night, but she would learn who was the master.

  * * * * *

  Darcy woke to an incredible sensation. A hot, wet cloth swirled over her ass and in between her legs. She moaned and widened the gap between them. The cloth dipped to circle her cunt and she lifted her hips. An invitation her tormentor couldn’t miss.

  “You’re awake,” Quentin said, his tone matter-of-fact.

  In an instant she recalled everything. Her hands tugged against the headboard, but her restraints held. “What are you doing?”

  “Preparing you, love. I don’t want Joe’s scent on you when I take you.”

  Darcy bit her lip. Her body remembered even better where they’d left off. She still ached for completion after his diabolical seduction. He’d promised to make her cream.

  Instead, she’d been left to scrunch the bedding between her thighs in an attempt to masturbate herself.

  “Get on your knees.” His voice held a self-satisfied tone. He was enjoying her torment.

  She glowered, but complied immediately.

  “Good girl.” His naked skin blanketed her back and his cock slipped between her legs.

  Darcy tilted her hips, hoping he’d slide right in.

  “Not yet.”

  She was afraid of that. Her legs trembled and her cunt wept.

  He brought the cloth to her neck, rubbed over her breasts, paying special attention to her aching nipples. Then he scrubbed her stomach. “That’s better.”

  “I’m not going to beg,” Darcy said, hoping to incite an argument and break through his icy control.

  He chuckled, a mirthless sound that worried her more. “Your legs are shaking. I’ll make you more comfortable.” He reached past her and snagged a pillow, then placed it beneath her belly. “Lie down on this. “

  Darcy lowered herself, disturbed to find the pillow raised her ass. She was positioned for his pleasure.

  His hands cupped a buttock each, then glided to her thighs. “Open your legs.” He arranged her thighs and knelt between them, encouraging her to widen the
gap with nudges from his knees. “Just right.”

  Just right for what? A warm gust of air blew over the heated flesh between her legs.

  “Tell me what you want,” he commanded.

  Darcy hesitated. The last time he’s asked that question her answer hadn’t done the trick.

  “You have to tell me, or I won’t help you.” His words gusted over her quivering flesh.

  “I want you to fuck me.”

  He slapped one side of her ass. A stinging, sharp blow. “Wrong answer.”

  “Did…did you just spank me?” she asked, her voice incredulous.

  Smack! “You don’t ask the questions. I do.”

  “You arrogant—”

  Smack! “Don’t raise your voice to me. Not unless it’s to plead.”

  Darcy gritted her teeth, seething, but holding onto the thought that eventually she’d get an opportunity to give him some retribution. In the meantime…

  “Now tell me.”

  “I want to please you,” she said between clenched teeth.

  He shifted on the bed and his rough tongue lapped her pussy. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  “No.” The word was a moan.

  “What do you think pleases me?”

  Control, you fucking asshole! “Being inside me?”

  Smack! He spanked the other cheek.

  “What the hell did I say wrong that time?”

  Smack!

  Darcy pressed her hot face into the bedding. Her ass was warming up and she couldn’t help wriggling on the pillow. If he’d just lick her cunt one more time, she was sure to pop.

  She needed one right answer.

  His hands kneaded her buttocks, and Darcy moaned.

  “What will please me, Darcy?”

  “For me to beg,” she said, her words muffled in the comforter.

  “Will you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Beg sweetly, love.” His tongue fluttered on her cheeks, then moved to the crease and descended. When he reached her anus, he paused.

  “Please,” she blurted, hearing her rebellious inflection.

  He gave her a single flicker.

  She got the point. He wanted a constant stream of supplications. Shit! Darcy’s chest heaved. Anger warred with need. “Please, Quentin. I need you inside me. Oh please.”

  He bit her ass. “Try to sound a little more convincing,” he said, a wry note of humor in his voice.

  “What do you want?” she asked, angry with this humbling, but unable to deny what would satisfy her body. “I ache. I’ve been hurting for hours. I need you to deep inside me.” She took a deep breath. “Please, come inside me.”

  “Better.” The point of his tongue pushed into her ass and fluttered.

  “Oh God. Please, take my pussy.” Her words this time were sincere. “I need your cock, deep inside me.” Her moan ended on a higher note, when his finger replaced his tongue.

  “You’re tight here, love. Don’t guess my cock will be playing in here for a while.” His finger pushed and pulled, in and out.

  Darcy sucked air into her starving lungs.

  “Don’t forget to beg, love,” Quentin warned.

  “Can’t even think, you bastard.”

  He swatted her ass, part of his palm slapping her cunt.

  The sting ignited her. “Oooh. Fuck me. Fuck me, please,” she pleased hoarsely.

  “Then raise up to meet me.”

  Eager to comply, she knelt, her hands twisting in the fabric that bound her to the headboard. The head of his cock pushed into her cunt.

  She needed no further prodding. “Please, yes! Give it to me.”

  He thrust his hips forward, and Darcy whimpered. He didn’t go very far, her vagina was tight and resisted his thick cock. She wriggled her hips to accommodate him, and he plunged deeper this time. Her gasps were loud as each successive thrust shoved him deeper inside until he was fully seated.

  It was embarrassing how easily she came. He didn’t have to move again—her cunt did all the work. Deep, spiraling spasms gripped his cock and squeezed, pulsing around him. Darcy hung on her ties. His strong shaft was the only thing that kept her from crumpling to the bed.

  When her heart slowed, she realized he was still buried to the hilt inside her. There’d be more.

  Chapter Five

  The ties loosened and Darcy’s arms fell limp as noodles to the bed. Quentin pulled her up until she was sitting in his lap, their bodies still connected.

  So overwhelmed was she by her response to his lovemaking, she trembled in the aftermath. His arms circled her belly, and Darcy felt strangely comforted.

  She closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder. “No one’s ever filled me like you do.”

  Quentin nuzzled her until her head tilted. He tongued the lobe of her ear. “Am I hurting you?” he murmured.

  Her hands closed over his, and she brought them to her breasts. “I like this pain.”

  “Can you take more?” He squeezed her breasts.

  Her breath caught. Exquisitely tuned to his touch, her nipples flowered again. “Do I have to beg?”

  He gently bit her ear. “My turn to ask. I want to transform to find release.”

  “That didn’t sound like a request,” she grumbled.

  His shoulders shrugged. “I haven’t mastered begging.”

  “Can I watch you change again?”

  “You won’t be frightened?”

  “Maybe,” she answered honestly. “I still want to see it.”

  He kissed the top of her shoulder. “Then turn around and straddle me.”

  She turned and looked at him for the first time in hours. Even in his human form, he frightened her. Bathed in soft lamplight, he overwhelmed her with his size and golden beauty—and the things he made her want.

  His arms opened in invitation.

  She’d take him this time. She climbed onto his lap, her legs spread wide across his hips. With her hands anchored on his shoulders, she looked to where their bodies strained to join. He held his cock, and she centered her pussy over it. Taking a deep breath she lowered herself. This time his intrusion was easier to take.

  Darcy hissed as she sank partway down, and then lifted. Her eyes drifted closed and she concentrated on the feel of his large, rigid cock as she rose and fell, taking him deeper each time. Her pussy, awash in her cream, lubricated each slow slide.

  His hands lowered to her buttocks, and he gripped her tightly, forcing her to move faster. Darcy smiled, recognizing his rising passion by the deep growl from the back of his throat and the increased tempo of his breaths. She smoothed the hair from his face and leaned forward to kiss him.

  “It’s okay,” she told him. “I can handle it.”

  His jaw strained, and he seemed to fight an inward battle for control, but finally the monster in him won. His eyes gleamed golden and reflected the lamplight like an animal’s. His head fell back, his mouth gaping to reveal long incisors.

  Darcy bounced faster on his lap, already carried along by the excitement of his quickening. His body was changing. The shoulders she gripped were harder—the definition of each muscle more articulated. His hips pumped like steel pistons, driving his expanding cock deeper with each opposing thrust of her hips.

  Afraid she’d blow first and miss the show, she bit the inside of her lip to distract herself from the tight coil twisting inside her belly. Then his face changed, the bones beneath his cheeks and forehead pushing forward into a sinister mask. Alarmed and thrilled, Darcy noted only the smirk that curved the corner of his lips remained to tell her he was still inside the monster she rode.

  His nostrils flared and his hands pulled her closer until her chest flattened against his. His mouth hovered over her neck. “Tell me what you want,” he growled, his voice a deep, raw slash that cut straight through her sex-primed soul.

  Darcy was glad he couldn’t see her face. She needed him desperately. “Bite me.”

  His arms encircled her, and she gripped his h
air hard. Their thrusts grew shorter, harder, and he groaned when his teeth entered her neck.

  This time he didn’t prepare her skin, but she was so hot for it the pain only increased her escalating passion. When he started to suction her skin, the blood rushed from her head and points below, and she stopped moving for a moment to savor the sensations.

  Then she had to move or go insane. Her skin felt tight and hot. Her nipples tingled, and she rubbed them wildly on his chest. Her cunt was pliant, the interior walls hot with friction between their opposing movements.

  He was growling against her neck, and she was falling—the ground rushing at her so fast, she couldn’t catch a breath. She screamed.

  Quentin held her shuddering body close and rubbed his face on her shoulder, ensuring his human mask was once more in place.

  He bore her back onto the bed and stretched over her body, still embedded deep inside her warmth. He licked her neck to close the punctures, and then lapped at her skin to wash away the trace of blood that smeared her flesh.

  “Mmmm,” she moaned and writhed beneath him. “Do you think we have time for one more?”

  He glanced at the window and saw the light filtering around the edges of the curtains. “Insatiable hussy,” he murmured, and ground his hips against hers.

  “You owe me.” She wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him closer. “I still ache. You left me too long.”

  “You needed punishing, minx.”

  A frown drew her dark brows together. “I’m not yours to punish. How archaic is that?”

  He circled his hips. “Primitive, love. A law of nature—man to mate. I won’t have you sharing your sweet cunt with another.”

  “I haven’t made you any promises. This thing between us is just sex—and convenient. Further, you’re not a man and I’m certainly not your mate.” She gasped when he jerked his hips.

  You’re wrong sweetheart. In time, you’ll recognize you’re mine. All these hours later, jealousy still ate at him. The sight of Darcy’s hands clutching Joe’s shuddering climax had enraged him. Worse, had been seeing her taut belly glistening with the other man’s come and her eyes glittering with sensual excitement. You belong to me!