Pleasure sparked, spreading heat through me . . . the fire again. The only sexual fire I’d ever experienced—like this act, and this moment—would burn me up until I didn’t exist.
Drake gripped my hips, his gaze on mine as he thrust upward.
I gasped.
We stared at each other, and I knew my eyes probably held the same glazed passion as his. I certainly felt dazed. My knees dug into the furs as I rode him.
Then, next thing I knew, Drake grasped my waist and lifted me off. He lightly tossed me to the side. I landed on my stomach. He was breathing hard, and now I heard him growl.
Excitement raced through me. And maybe a little fear, too.
He got behind me, lifting my hips, and slid his cock between my thighs, penetrating me.
I leaned forward on my elbows and let him take me.
For the longest time, our harsh breathing echoed in the chamber. Sweat beaded my spine and dripped off my temples, and still he pumped into me, and he was hitting the sweet spot just right.
I felt the rise of another intense orgasm.
“Drake!”
I fell over again, into the sparkling bliss, and as my orgasm pulsed around his cock, he gave a strangled cry, penetrated me deeply, and came.
I almost expected him to howl.
But he didn’t.
I don’t know how long it was before he slipped out of me and we both collapsed onto the furs. He lay beside me, rolling to his side, and leaned up on his elbow. He brushed a lock of hair away from my face.
“How are you?”
“Really, really well,” I said.
He grinned.
Then we heard a noise.
Blue and green sparkles rose from the four corners of the bed and wound into one long ribbon that flowed toward the wall. As soon as the magic made contact, we heard a pop, and a sliding noise—stone grating against stone.
We both sat up. The wall facing us had opened, revealing total darkness. No torches magically lit up. Since the opening was quite large, I couldn’t imagine it was another hallway, so it was probably another room.
A hissing noise erupted from the endless dark.
“What the hell is that?” I asked.
We both scrambled up, grabbing at our clothes. Drake got completely dressed before I’d even shimmied my pants on. Talk about supernatural speed. Sheesh.
I got my pants buttoned and zipped and my bra snapped. I couldn’t find my socks, so I decided Screw it and shoved a bare foot into my hiking boot.
The hissing noise got louder and louder.
And then . . . the creature emerged.
Chapter 20
Dove
Patsy and I had returned to the bed-and-breakfast and now sat at the table in the kitchen of perpetual food. Lenette had made mini quiches and finger sandwiches, along with tea, coffee, and some kind of magical lemonade I was fairly sure I wanted to marry. Then Lenette had disappeared, muttering something about husbands and Laundry 101.
I poured my second glass of lemonade. “So what’s the deal with Karn? Why is he so grumpy?”
“Karn is damaged,” said Patsy.
Sitting at the table to the left of me, she reached out and chose a peanut butter cookie. I liked Patsy for a number of reasons, one of which was that she wasn’t a nibbler. She took real bites and enjoyed her food like a regular human being. Well, like a vampire-werewolf, I supposed.
“The vampire who made him didn’t do the job right,” continued Patsy. “He was an inquisitor . . . you know, those Italian priests who tortured people accused of heresy.”
“I know what an inquisitor is,” I said.
“Well, that makes one of us,” muttered Patsy. “He shouldn’t have survived, but he did. The thing is . . . Karn doesn’t have the full skill set. He can’t glamour at all. Anyway, he caused a huge problem for vampires and humans alike . . . apparently he was really good at his job of torturing poor folks. The vampires got tired of his shit and hunted him down. He was busy burning a village at the time, so they shoved him into the nearest fire. Everyone thought he was ash.” She sighed. “But he survived and just went to ground. He popped up a couple months ago. Just as crazy and mean as before, and two hundred times more pissed off.”
Yeah, yeah, fascinating stuff. If Karn wasn’t such a dickhead, I would probably be interested in his take on the Inquisition. All of these vampires who’d been walking around for thousands of years had seen history unfold. No guesswork needed. But getting the historical 4-1-1 wasn’t my priority. I eyed the quiches.
“What do you think’s going on in the pyramid with Moira and Drake?” I asked.
“I have no idea,” said Patsy. “I’ve given up trying to figure out the why and the how of the world. I just try to keep my head above water and try not to kill anyone.”
Coming from anyone else, that last declaration would be an exaggeration. But from a supernatural being, it was probably truth. “You . . . uh, feel murderous impulses a lot?”