Malachai Page 14

  Her body softened to a quivering mass inside her clothes. She wasn’t wearing a bra under her sweater. Her skin ached for him and her nipples stiffened, but she didn’t have to worry. He had her. He would take her where she needed to go. She understood that above all else.

  His eyes darted to his left, but there was nothing to see. They had the apartment to themselves. He swiveled and took a step, but her feet flapped against him. He slapped one hand under her ass and hauled her up. She slipped her legs around his waist and he supported her. He always supported her—always.

  He carried her to her bedroom and kicked the door shut behind him. Now they were alone—utterly alone. They were in his apartment, his home—his world. He was kissing her and crushing her body into him. He didn’t withdraw. He didn’t pull away or say he couldn’t. None of that meant a thing now.

  He scanned the room, but he didn’t go near the bed. He held her there in space feeling her shudder at being so near him. Her insides throbbed trying to fill the void where she wanted him. Her juicy essence bubbled from her slit yearning to sip and suck and lick and draw him inside.

  He didn’t seem in any hurry to finish the act, though. He stood there a long time just holding her and kissing her and gazing into her eye. She rubbed her sensitive breasts against the inside of her tank top. She drove herself crazy with that sizzling sensory overload. She wanted him bad, but nothing she did spurred him to move any quicker.

  Just when she thought she might have to take drastic measures, he took a few steps toward the bed. He didn’t throw her down on it and attack her in rabid animal passion. He lowered her feet to the floor with effortless self-control.

  He straightened up and his smoldering dark eyes locked her in place. She couldn’t escape if she wanted to, not even when he took hold of her sweater and lifted it over her head. It swept her head aside. He laid it on the floor and left her standing there in her tank top.

  She trembled under his unflinching gaze. He scanned her chest. He could see straight through the cotton to the tingling hard nipples underneath. She always knew she looked good, but now she cringed to think she might not be good enough for him.

  This had nothing to do with his attractiveness or her attractiveness or anything as crude as that. She wanted to be good enough for the person that he was, the person he was inside his heart. She wanted to be as fine and good and upright as he was. She wanted to be worthy of him.

  He was the first person she ever met who made her uncertain if she was worthy. He was so much more worthy than she was, so much more worthy than she would ever be. How could she let him touch her thinking he might be lowering himself by doing it?

  His features didn’t recoil when he looked at her. His gaze didn’t harden in revulsion. His pupils dilated. He took hold of her tank top and glided it over her head. He let it fall. He never took his eyes off her face when he unbuttoned her jeans and slid them down along with her panties.

  She kicked them off and let him see all of her. If he was going to reject her, he would do now. She wanted to know for sure that he accepted her, that she was good enough, that he really wanted her in all her failings.

  She wanted nothing more than to bow her head before him, to show him her utter submission to his desires. He wouldn’t let her do that, though. He cupped her chin and lifted her face to kiss her.

  He enveloped her in the warm waves of delirious pleasure spreading from his mouth to the rest of her being. That blessed union covered her in his sweet attention. It lit her up from the inside and made her want him with an excruciating, gnawing pain in her heart.

  He bent closer and put a little more pressure against her mouth. She could only stare up at his immoveable features as he pushed her back on the bed. She fell back and he broke away.

  He ducked under her jaw and kissed her neck. Scorching flame sizzled along her nerves. He blessed each and every inch of her tortured skin down her neck, around to her ear to her collarbone. He crawled down her body to her breasts. He awoke each one with a penetrating kiss bordering on a bite.

  She couldn’t hold herself together against the onslaught. She moaned and squirmed. That burning hunger between her legs compelled her to buck and thrash for him, but she couldn’t get hold of him. She couldn’t touch him the way he touched her. She had to lie here and wait for him to come to her.

  She stroked her thighs one against the other and almost climaxed then and there. Her wetness stung her tissues and dripped down her ass. She fretted about getting the bed wet, but she released that to Malachai’s control, too.

  He sucked her nipples until she lost her sanity in the torrential rapture of knowing he was coming for her. He wouldn’t pull away now—not a chance. He switched back and forth giving both her breasts equal attention. Then he proceeded down her belly to the molten fissure between her legs.

  He still had his clothes on. She scratched his shirt and fingered his hair and ears, but she couldn’t encroach on his prerogative. He would expose himself when he was ready. Until then, she could only relinquish all urgency to the anguish of yearning for him.

  She mewed in agony. Would he ever finish teasing her? Would he put an end to her desperate need for him? She wouldn’t be at all surprised if he stood up, leveled her with his dominant black eyes, and told her he was done for now. She would have no choice but to submit to that, too. She couldn’t resist him in anything, not even that.

  His every touch erupted through her in overwhelming, mind-blowing rapture. She never dreamed she could respond to any man like this. Every caress of his fingers, every tiny graze of his lips drove her around the bend. It blasted her nerves to smithereens so she sprawled exposed and vulnerable to all that he was.

  He inched lower to her hip. He stroked his cheek across the sensitive inner velvet of her thigh. She screamed out of control and that sound set off a chain reaction. She convulsed in a sudden, unexpected climax that shot her barriers to hell. She couldn’t hold it back. She arched her back and keened rolling on one successive peak after another. Her pussy hurt quivering and spasming. She couldn’t stop it.

  At that moment, he dove between her legs and took a massive, brutal bite of her twitching pussy lips. He sank his teeth into her dripping font and spiked her out of her mind. She screeched drifting into a world of agonized bliss from which she couldn’t return. Just when she thought she couldn’t stand another second of this, he traced his finger around her hole.

  He mauled her saturated petals sucking, chewing, biting, and licking. His finger tickled around her opening until she sobbed in mortal torment. She never thought she could climax like this without coming down, but his constant attention wouldn’t let her relax.

  He swirled through her juices working his way inside. Rivers of honey flowed out of her into his mouth, but he only gobbled her faster, harder. His fingers delved to her inner depths and left her nowhere to hide. She couldn’t decide whether to pull away from the devastating intensity of it all or to hurl herself against his face harder than ever.

  She gripped his head to destroy herself on his mouth, but he never varied from his own preconceived agenda. He burrowed between her legs drinking her very soul from inside her.

  She could only stare at the ceiling rolling in a sea of sensation. Her body craved him all over. His attack attenuated her nerves so everything he did set her off. She melted into his grasp, into every move he made.

  He heaved back. He rose tall and terrible over her, but she couldn’t stop twisting and moaning on the bed. She rocked in an endless breaking wave of orgasmic delight that refused to end.

  He glared down at her from high above. He went to work on his shirt buttons and stripped off his shirt, but she couldn’t see that. She couldn’t see beyond those two glittering eyes boring into her. They told her she had no choice but to respond to him. They told her she had no choice but to belong to him. They told her exactly where she belonged and that was right here on this bed spreading her legs for him climbing on top of her.

  He tilte
d onto his hands and knees over her, but he didn’t lower himself into her. He kissed her all fruity and tangy with her essence. Her nectar rendered his lips and tongue softer, more wicked, more magical. His limbs buzzed under her hands.

  His skin radiated heat into her, but his eyes left her no room for shelter. He destroyed her with that unwavering stare. He reduced her to a tender nerve stretched taut and ready for him. She couldn’t escape the inevitable hardness driving into her softest anatomy.

  Just for a second, she wasn’t sure she could survive the utter ruin of taking him inside her. She couldn’t suffer another climax and she would endure countless more if he entered her. The overpowering force of his presence surmounted every limit, every obstacle and barricade that held up her sanity.

  The next instant, he folded his elbows. His chest crushed her breasts. His weight settled on top of her. His satin belly brushed her pelvis. His throbbing stiff manhood grazed her pussy lips.

  Then the world shattered as his length slid inside her. His hardness split her apart and she rocketed into the stratosphere of continuous orgasm. She couldn’t get her arms far enough around him. She couldn’t hang onto him tight enough. He offered her the only safety in this incomprehensible reality.

  She wanted to hide in him, but he wedged himself up again. He watched her from the heights of his own superiority. He observed the convulsions tearing her apart. They translated from her pussy up through her torso to her face twisting in one climax after another. He drilled to her core and enjoyed the spectacle of his power playing out in her features.

  She wanted to cry. She never felt this good in her life. She felt so good she didn’t know if she could live with the aftermath. What did it mean? What would she become? What was he doing to her? Did he know he changed her so radically with his granite body? How could he know?

  He bowed near enough to kiss her, but the next second, he pried back to gaze at her again. He compelled her to look into his eyes so he would know he did this to her.

  He broadened with every cruel thrust. He spread above her until he grew to catastrophic proportions. He exploded to a monstrous size. He was a monster. He extended his wings and she looked up at the dragon. It crouched over her pouring its otherworldly power into her soul. It filled her with its alien essence.

  He wasn’t human. No human man could do this to her. He was no man. He was a force of nature, a hurricane, a quasar. He was a cosmos in and of himself. He was a fury, a phenomenon. He could never be human.

  She understood that the very first time she met him on Canal Street. He was far too fine and perfect and exquisite to ever be human. So much energy and magnificence couldn’t fit into such a mundane and vulgar container.

  She saw it all on a cosmic scale. Radiating sparks flared from his shoulders and back. They surrounded him in an aura of light. He became a star guiding her to Heaven. Nothing else made sense.

  17

  A loud knock woke Malachai from a deep sleep. Isabelle jerked up in his arms. She gasped staring into the dark. “Malachai?”

  He stroked her hair back and kissed her forehead. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “Someone’s at the door. Stay here and go back to sleep. I’ll get it.”

  He pressed her down on the pillow. Her golden curls scattered over her face. She drifted into longer breaths that heralded the return to slumber.

  He slipped out of bed and draped the bedspread over her shoulders. He tucked it under her chin and let his hand drag along the curve of her waist. Her intoxicating scent hovered around the bed and clung to his skin, but he pried himself away.

  Another demanding knock shook the apartment. He grabbed his pajama pants and snuck out of the room. He eased the bedroom shut before he marched into the living room. He slipped on his pants and flipped the lock.

  The door burst in on him and Nolan Slaughter rushed him. The young man stuck his face near Malachai’s nose and hissed under his breath. “Jesus fucking Christ, what took you so long?”

  Malachai stiffened. “In case you hadn’t noticed, it’s the middle of the fucking night. What the fuck is going on? What are you doing—banging down the door and waking up the womenfolk?”

  “Will you snap the fuck out of it?” Nolan snapped. “Do you think I’d be here now if it wasn’t a goddamned emergency? Jesus, get your fucking clothes on! We’ve got a massive situation on our hands and we need you downstairs pronto.”

  Malachai froze. “What’s going on?”

  “Those fuckers are moving on us! That’s what’s going on,” Nolan fired back.

  “What fuckers?”

  “The third team. Who else? We traced them to a bunker down by the river. We had to dodge around for hours to avoid those freaks the Fischers. They’re all over the place and they didn’t have a fucking clue where the team was. Those morons tried to fucking fight us off to stop us from locating the team. That fuckwit Benecio tried to cut my brother’s throat. I hope to hell you discipline that asshole ‘cuz if you don’t, you can kiss our help goodbye.”

  Malachai did his best to pull his head together. “All right, man. I’ll talk to his father about it.”

  “Don’t bother talking. Talking won’t do anything, especially after my brother put that shithead in the hospital.”

  Malachai fought down his mounting agitation to concentrate on the larger issue. “So what’s the team doing down on the river?”

  “They’re amassing a strike force to come at us with everything they have. We sent Felicia in there and she came tearing out like a bat out of Hell. Christ, she was hysterical! You know what those fucking Robinsons are like.”

  Malachai nodded rubbing his chin. “What did she say?”

  “They planted the other three teams to throw us off the trail. I’m telling you, man, if you didn’t put us onto them, they would be on top of us and us none the wiser. I’m telling you you better deal with those Fischers before they get someone killed.”

  “Forget the goddamned Fischers,” Malachai rasped. “When are they moving out?”

  “Today,” Nolan whispered. “I couldn’t get the exact time out of Felicia. She was raving too much. She broke away and bolted for home and I let her go. Then me and Coop beat it back here on the double.”

  “Where’s Coop now?”

  “He’s downstairs with Lincoln and Todd. They wanted to give the order to mobilize, but Coop convinced them to stand by until I could come up here and muster you to give the order.”

  Malachai spun away. “Thanks, but you can go back downstairs. Relay the order to everyone you can find to tumble out and arm up. Go!”

  He slapped Nolan on the shoulder and turned. He didn’t bother to close the door behind the young bear shifter. He trusted the Slaughter boys to the ends of the Earth. Nolan would hustle on down to the war room. In a few minutes, Ogru-Kuche would erupt into a full-blown war zone.

  He marched down the hall back to Isabelle’s room. He walked in and switched on the overhead light. Isabelle opened her eyes and squinted.

  Malachai eased around the bed and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Get up, Isabelle.”

  She heaved out of the blankets. “Huh? What’s going on?”

  He picked up his shirt and slid his arms into the sleeves. “You need to get up—now. We’ve got a situation. We need you downstairs right away.”

  She ran her fingers through her hair. “What’s going on?”

  “The third team is mobilizing against us. Get up. It’s not safe for you here.”

  He collected his pants and put them on. He was halfway out the door before she flipped back the sheets. “Are you sure? It’s the middle of the night.”

  “I’m going to get Courtney. Meet me in the living room dressed and ready to move. You’ve got five minutes.”

  He shut the door behind him. He couldn’t bark orders at her and expect her to understand—not yet. Once she got into the war room, she would find out soon enough what she got herself into by coming to Ogru-Kuche.

  He barged down the hall and po
unded his fist against Courtney’s door. She grunted from inside. “Tumble out, girl,” he called. “I need you downstairs.”

  He continued to his own room. Once he got there, he shucked off his suit and put on a pair of canvas pants and a black t-shirt. He pulled on his black leather jacket and stuck his feet into his boots.

  He found Isabelle waiting for him in the living room exactly the way he told her to. He should have expected that. She was military, after all, even if her beauty and her sweet lips made him forget that.

  She wore the same jeans and knitted, too-big sweater, but she pulled her hair back into a messy ponytail. She looked about as ready as anybody could be to meet the threat closing in on Anarock.

  He hit the front door and tore it off its hinges. “Come on.”

  He took off for the stairs. She flanked him all the way not asking any questions. He stormed to the war room and walked into an unholy maelstrom of bodies all rushing at once.

  The place died to an eerie silence the minute he walked in. He was used to these people reacting that way to Victor or Colonel Weeks arriving on the scene. Part of him revolted against the Prometheus Crest revolving around him and everybody holding their breath to hear his orders.

  He pushed that away. He was in charge here and he sure as fuck wouldn’t let his people down now. He pulled up next to his brother’s strategic whiteboard. He didn’t understand the diagrams on it. None of that meant spit right now. Nothing Victor did or said or thought could help anybody.

  He rounded on his people. “I guess you’ve all heard the good news. Those bastards are coming at us with everything they’ve got. They’re coming sometime today, but we don’t know when. That means we need to be ready yesterday. Arm up and let me see all of you prepared to throw down in no less than half an hour. Coop and Nolan, you’re with me. Lincoln, Todd, and Jackson, I want to see you with fifteen people each on every floor of Ogru-Kuche. I want to see every window and door defended, and for the love of God, get everybody out of the yard and the corridors and off the steps. Clear the property. If people don’t want to come inside, then send them to other parts of Anarock. Evacuate the whole goddamned block.”