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Moon(8)

By:Laurann Dohner


Moon advanced as she pressed her back to the wall and turned her head to the side, expecting pain, but he didn’t hurt her when his body hit. Solid male pressed tightly against her and strong hands gripped her. He reached through the opening of her shirt to go for skin. His fingers and palms were hot, firm, as he slid them lower to dig inside the waistband of her skirt. The elastic gave and he grabbed hold of her hipbones.

She gasped when he lifted her off her feet but kept her pinned between him and the wall until his mouth hovered at the side of her throat. Hot breath fanned her skin as he panted. She was terrified as she helplessly hung there but he didn’t bite into her with his sharp fangs. His wet, raspy tongue surprised her when it licked the sensitive area of her throat underneath her ear.

He’s tasting me. Kill or sex? That’s what is going through his mind right now. She prayed he’d decide she was for the latter. Her mind scrambled to remember if she’d worn perfume that morning. She was certain she hadn’t. Nothing he would be able to smell should offend him. His lower body wedged tighter against hers and the feel of something hard nudging against the vee of her thighs reassured her somewhat. He was aroused. The stiff outline of his cock couldn’t be mistaken for anything else.

Their bellies were skin to skin since he wore only pants. She inhaled sharply when his mouth opened and clamped down over her carotid artery. He didn’t tear into her but he still could. His teeth paused there while her life was in his hands. She opened her eyes to stare at the New Species who were inching up behind Moon.

She lifted a hand to stop them and mouthed one word, “Sedative.” One of them nodded sharply, spun, and rushed out of the room. The syringe on the floor had been crushed during the fight. It had been uncapped and contaminated anyway, making it useless. She tentatively touched Moon’s biceps. They were thick and left no doubt about his impressive strength. Her fingers surfed his warm skin, rubbing.

“Do you remember me at all?” She took a breath. “Don’t hurt me. I’m no threat.”

He bit down but it didn’t break the skin. He had a firm grip on her though. The remaining Species inched closer in an attempt to launch a surprise attack. The body against hers stiffened. A growl rumbled from him, making his chest vibrate. He sensed a threat.

“He’ll rip out my throat. Get out. Do you think he isn’t aware of you? I’m fine. Back off!” Joy kept direct eye contact with the guard so he’d know she spoke to him.

The Species retreated immediately and Moon’s teeth loosened their hold. Joy stared at the male who hesitated by the door and kept her voice calm. “We’re fine. Just step out and get what I asked for. I’ll call if I need assistance.” Scream. That was the word she didn’t use but would be more accurate if things turned bad. “Let me see if I can calm him while you hurry to get what is needed.”

He looked unsure but backed away until he was out of sight. Joy slowly turned her head until her cheek rested against Moon’s. He had smooth skin—Species didn’t grow facial hair easily, if at all. She massaged the muscles of his upper arms.

“I missed you.” She spoke very softly, hoping no one but Moon could hear her heartfelt words. “I’m sorry I left. I was afraid.” She didn’t elaborate, certain that, in his current mood, he didn’t want to hear her rationalizations. “Why has this been done to you?”

So many unanswered questions tormented her. Was the damage permanent? Temporary? Was the person he used to be trapped somewhere inside his mind?

His hips nuzzled tighter against her pelvis, making her very conscious of the state of his cock and what was on his mind at that moment. The tight hold on her neck eased as his teeth released her. He might not recognize her in his drugged state but he was aware of her as a woman. She slid her hands up to his broad shoulders but he didn’t snarl or protest, seemingly happy to sniff and lick her skin again.

His hair was soft as she touched it and laced her fingers through the long strands at the base of his head, holding him close. She rubbed her cheek against his again, breathing in his masculine scent, which was so familiar to her—assuring her once again that she’d gotten way too close to her former client. Her body was alive and worse, she knew the symptoms of her own arousal. Part of her longed to wrap her legs around his waist and hope he’d take advantage of the position by tearing away the clothing between them.

Just the idea of them naked, him taking her, made her muffle a moan. She’d dreamed about him almost nightly and daydreamed about him daily. Those fantasies had primed her body to respond to the flesh-and-blood male. He didn’t have to kiss her or do anything but hold her to turn her on. All it took was being near him.