Return to Me (Storm Lords) (7 page)

He’d had to get off the bed. Lying beside her and not touching her had been driving him wild. Now he held her hand, and watched as she closed her eyes and her features relaxed.

The demon’s blood still buzzed in his veins. It was all he could do to sit here quietly while what he needed was to drag her into his arms and never let her go. He re-lived that flare of panic when he’d seen the demon crouching over her.

Never again.

From now on, he wouldn’t let her out of his sight.

And despite sating himself on the demon’s blood, his gums ached with the need to feed from her. That would, no doubt, go down extremely well.

It was a long time since he had felt hunger like this. When he had first been thrown into the Abyss and gained his dark powers, the need to feed had been relentless, fueling his revenge, and he had feasted on the blood of his enemies. Back then, sunlight had been anathema to him. Now the hunger had faded and he no longer needed to feed regularly, and sunlight caused him no more than a flicker of pain.

Some of his brothers hunted the lowlifes of the city when the need to feed came upon them. But for him, blood these days was inexplicably tied in with sex. He no longer fed for revenge, and he’d found that the easiest way to get close enough was to feign sexual desire. Afterwards, he’d clear the person’s memories. They meant nothing to him but the fulfillment of a necessary appetite.

He could see the throb of the blood in the vein at her throat, so close to the surface, and heat coiled low down in his belly. He longed to stretch out next to her, burrow his face in her throat, sink his fangs into her and make her his, in every way possible.

As he watched, a tear seeped from beneath her lashes and she whimpered in her sleep. She came across as such a strong and tough woman when she was awake, as though she could take on the world. Now her vulnerability was clear. His craving to feed receded, to be replaced by a need to hold her, make her feel safe and loved.

From the information in her file, he’d deduced that she’d had very little love in her life.

Her fingers tightened in his, and she jerked as though pulled by invisible strings. Suddenly, she pulled free, threw back her head, and screamed. “No!”

For a moment, her body went rigid; her eyes flashed open, drenched in tears and filled with horror. She stared around her until her gaze fixed on him and some of the tension oozed from her. She blinked and shook herself. “I’m sorry.”

“No need.”

“I was dreaming.”

“About your friend?”

She shook her head, her blue-grey eyes haunted.

“Tell me,” he murmured. Reaching out, he twined his fingers with hers, stroked her palm until the faint tremor stilled. For a minute, he thought she wouldn’t respond, and then she licked her lips.

“I used to have this nightmare all the time, before I built the wall.”

“What happens?”

“I die.”

Shock ripped through him. “What?”

“Over and over again. But the dying isn’t the bad part. They’ve taken someone from me. Someone I love, and the pain is unbearable.” She gave him a wan smile. “I used to tell myself that it was a good thing my mother didn’t love me. Love hurts.”

Torr didn’t want to ask, but he needed to know. “How? How do you die in your dreams?” He waited; dread filling him, for her to answer.

Bella looked away, staring ahead, almost in a trance. “I’m in a stone room. There are no windows. They are closing up the door, bricking me in, and I can feel their hatred pounding into me. The last stone slides into place, the light is gone, and I am alone. I don’t want to live, because I know he’s gone, but it takes such a long time to die.”

Torr’s heart was being ripped from his body. He’d done this to her. Why would she ever want to trust in his love again? He had failed to keep her safe the last time. Why would she trust him now?

Bella blinked and came back to herself, though her eyes were steeped in sorrow. She needed comfort and he gave in to the urge tearing into him. Standing up, he reached out and picked her up into his arms, then turned and sank onto the bed with her held tight against his chest. For a second, her body was rigid with tension, and then she relaxed against him, her palm flat against his heart, her face in the curve of his throat.

He stroked his fingers through the soft hair at the nape of her neck, down over the supple curve of her spine to pull her even closer. He rubbed the swell of her ass, and she pressed against him, so the blood rushed to his groin and his cock thickened in his pants.

She went still, then pushed herself away from him. His whole body screamed out in denial, but he forced himself not to tighten his grip, keeping his hands loosely on the curve of her hips. She came up on her knees, straddling his thighs, so she could stare into his face. Hers was pale, her lashes spiky with tears, but her eyes filled with need.

“Don’t leave me,” she said again.

And this time Torr knew she was not just asking him to hold her hand.

A small doubt niggled that he was wrong to take advantage of her vulnerability. However, he couldn’t fight the savage satisfaction that roared through him, lighting a fire in his blood, which threatened to burn out of control. It had been so long.

He would make her forget. Forget her nightmares, her murdered friend, fill her body and her mind with nothing but him.

But at the last second he hesitated; he had to have her consent. “You’re sure?” he asked.

Why was he asking her? She just wanted to forget. Forget Justin. Forget what she had promised to do. Forget her nightmares.

“Bella?”

She nodded her head, and heat flared in his eyes, his face lighting up with a savage hunger.

Her heart raced. The fear didn’t make her need go away. If anything, it burned hotter. She’d never felt like this before. If her mother had managed to do one thing, it was to put Bella off casual sex. Any sex in fact. Up until now.

The little part of her mind still functioning, told her it was just heightened emotions, a reaction to all that had happened over the past two days. Justin had been her only real friend. The one person she had allowed to get close to her emotionally. Now she was alone, adrift, and she needed something to connect her with the human race, to anchor her to the living.

It didn’t have to mean anything. It wasn’t as if she was promising forever.

Just sex.

Torr’s large hands still rested on the curve of her hips, now they slid around to cup her ass. He squeezed, urging her closer and his touch burned through her, melting her core.

The steely hardness of his erection pressed against her and his low groan sounded in her ear. He was so big, and a ripple of unease shivered down her spine. Leaning back, she stared into his face. “Torr….” She bit her lip, and his gaze dropped to stare at her mouth. “I’ve never done this before.”

Shock flared in his eyes, his hands tightened on her. “What?”

“I’m a virgin. You know—untouched by human hands. Pure as the—”

His hands left her body, to cup her face. He looked into her eyes, his glowed golden, filled with wonder. “Why?” Then he shook his head. “No. Don’t tell me. It’s enough to know.”

Then the wonder faded. His brows drew together, and his beautiful lips tightened. His hands slid to her waist, and he picked her up, placed her on the bed, and then rose to his feet. Her muscles tensed as she knelt on the black velvet cover, a matching frown forming on her face as he paced the room, all pent-up energy. The air thrummed with tension; she could almost see the sparks shooting out from him.

Was he going to turn her down? Maybe he had something against virgins. Perhaps she should tell him about the ‘just sex’ thing. Reassure him that she wasn’t going to get clingy.

It was odd. While she’d never considered herself particularly attractive—she was too small and skinny for most men’s tastes—it had never occurred to her that Torr wouldn’t want her. Not after the kiss they’d shared earlier. She’d sensed his need, his desire.

Finally, he halted beside her, running a hand through his hair, then opened his mouth, closed it again without saying anything.

“I don’t expect anything from you,” she said, taking pity on him. “I haven’t been holding out for marriage or anything. You don’t have to worry.”

At her words, he came down on the bed, kneeling at her side. “I’m not worried. But I don’t want to hurt you. It’s been a long time for me and you’re small and I’m…”

Tension drained from her and her shoulders slumped. He wasn’t rejecting her, after all. Then her gaze flashed to the bulge in his pants and her lips quirked. “Not?” Reaching out, she stroked her hand down his cheek. “You don’t have to do anything except hold me.”

His lips curled in a rueful smile. “I don’t think that’s an option now. I want you too much.”

“You do?”

His smile widened. “You can’t be that naïve.”

Taking hold of her hand, he pressed it against his groin. She felt the shape of him with her fingers, hot and hard, and squeezed gently.

His eyes closed and his head went back, his breath coming hard and fast.

She fumbled with the button at his waist and finally managed to flick it open. Her fingers shook as she lowered his zipper. He sprang free, the skin silky, flushed with blood at the swollen head. Sitting back on her heels, she stared at him. He was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Her mouth went dry and she licked her lips.

Torr made an impatient sound and ripped his shirt open, shrugging out of it, and tossing it to the floor behind him. He stood, pushed down his pants, and kicked off his shoes so he was naked. His skin was pale, his shoulders massive, with the lines of muscle clearly visible. A sprinkling of midnight black hair ran down his lean belly, then flared at his groin. His shaft sprang from the dark curls, almost vertical.

He came back to kneel in front of her. “Touch me,” he murmured, his voice hoarse with need.

Bella leaned down and kissed the tip and he jerked beneath her caress. He tasted salty and sweet and she breathed in the musky, male scent of him. She flicked him with her tongue, then lingered, licking her way around the hood, down the long length of his shaft to his balls, drawn tight with need. She kissed him there as well.

He’d gone completely still, and she paused and peered up the length of his body. His eyes were half-closed, gleaming behind his thick lashes, and a dull flush shadowed his sharp cheekbones.

His hands hung at his side. Now they came up to stroke her hair. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I want to.”

Her sex was swollen and drenched with need; still, she felt a shiver of nerves at the thought of him filling her. Maybe she was putting off the moment. But she loved learning the taste of him, the feel of him beneath her hands and fingers, her mouth.

She kissed his belly then shifted back, undid her jeans and wriggled out of them, then pulled her T-shirt over her head, so she was left wearing only her black cotton panties. Her nipples were tight, swollen, almost painfully sensitive. As his hand cupped one small breast, his thumb stroked over the taut peak, and jolts of intense pleasure shot down through her belly to settle between her thighs.

She needed to know she could give him pleasure. She wanted to finish this and she pushed him down. He went willingly and she bent her head over him and took him in her mouth, sucking hard as his hips pushed up against her mouth.

For a minute, she was sure he’d protest, then his fingers threaded in her hair and he held her to him.

***

Perhaps if he came once he might have more control.

His head was still reeling with her admission that she was a virgin. It had both thrown him and filled him with a fierce delight. But he didn’t want to hurt her and he wasn’t sure how much control he had right now.

Wrapping his hand around the back of her neck, he guided her, slowing her, and then holding her still as he pumped into her mouth. His orgasm was building. He released the last of his control. Let himself go. Pleasure tightened his balls, shot up his spine, flooded his system. He thrust into her mouth, hand clenched in her hair.

Finally, it was over and he stared down at her as she peered at him through her lashes. “Thank you.” He dragged her beside him so they lay side by side, Bella half on him, her head on his chest. He stroked his palm down the line of her ribcage to rest on the jut of her sharp hipbone. She was thinner than he remembered. Soraya had loved food and she’d been smooth and soft to the touch. Bella needed feeding up.

He clasped her, a hand on either side of her waist, and lifted her with ease, held her balanced above him, then lowered her so her head was level with his and he kissed her. His mouth slanted over hers, and she opened to him, his tongue slipping inside. He could taste himself on her lips, her tongue, and the memory sent blood rushing to his cock.

He lowered her and then rolled so she was beneath him. “Tell me what you want,” he murmured.

“I don’t know.”

He almost smiled. She’d always been honest.

He traced a finger down over her cheek, her jaw line, the soft skin of her throat, pausing where her pulse beat, pumping her blood, so close to the surface. Then lower, tracing lazy patterns over her breasts, teasing her nipples with his fingertips, tugging each taut little bud between his finger and thumb. Her back arched and he bent over her and took her in his mouth, suckled her. First gently, then harder as she moaned and writhed against him.

She was still wearing the black panties and he stroked his palm down her flat, stomach and slipped his hand beneath the elastic and into the soft silky hair at the juncture of her thighs. As he cupped her sex, she went instantly still and he probed the slippery folds and found her hot and wet. He tugged at the panties and she lifted her hips so he could drag them down leaving her naked. His cock throbbed, already hard again, and his balls ached viciously.

Slipping a hand between her legs, he spread her thighs. He kissed her breasts one last time then raised himself up on his elbow so he could watch her while he touched her, gauge her reaction. Her face was flushed, her mouth slightly parted. She was small and tight, but his finger pushed inside her with ease. Her eyes widened then screwed up tight as he pulled free and traced lightly up toward her swollen nub. He stopped just short and her lashes fluttered open. She held his gaze as he teased her sensitive flesh, rubbing circles around her clit, never quite touching until her hips were thrusting up from the bed and her thighs widened of their own accord.

When he knew she was nearly there, he rubbed over her with the pad of his thumb, and felt her tremble. She was so close. He stroked her again, and at the same time, he stabbed a finger inside her and felt her spasm around him. Her back arched, her head fell back, and she screamed.

He soothed her until the tremors faded, and then pinched her clit between his finger and thumb, and she came again. This time he rose up over her. He parted her with the fingers of one hand, held himself at the entrance to her body.

Her eyes widened and he hesitated.

“Please,” she murmured. “Don’t stop.”

He held her gaze as he pushed inside her. Her body accepted him with ease and her inner muscles tightened around him. It was like coming home, and he knew, in that sublime moment, that he would abandon Heaven again for the feel of this.

He stayed still for long moment while her body adjusted to his, then started to move slowly at first, judging her reaction. But she was with him all the way, her hips rising to him with each thrust. His own orgasm tugged at his balls, tightening his spine. He kissed the tender spot where her collarbone met her neck, burrowed his face against her skin, breathing in the hot scent of arousal. It seemed so natural, so right, and without even thinking, his fangs sank into the soft flesh of her throat. He felt her jump against him, her body going rigid and then she relaxed, boneless.

Her hot blood flooded his mouth and he swallowed convulsively, holding her tight against him as he pumped into her and pleasure exploded through him.

He kissed her throat, lapped at the small puncture wounds, then eased away so he could look down into her face. There was no look of horror in her eyes. He knew from experience that the human brain blanked out the blood taking; it merged with the pleasure, faded from the mind.

She blinked up at him, her expression dazed. “I…” She shuddered. “I didn’t know it could be like that.”

He kissed her lightly on the lips. “Like what?” He waited for her answer, his whole body tense.

“So intense. Thank you for making me forget.”

“It was my pleasure.” He stroked her hair. “Go to sleep.”

He rolled onto his back and pulled her against his side. Less than a minute later, her breathing changed, and he knew she was sleeping.

***

Bella came awake slowly from a dreamless sleep. She felt good, relaxed, and so unbelievably warm. Something bad hovered at the edge of her mind, but she pushed it away.

Just a little longer before she allowed reality in.

She lay on her side; her back spooned against a hot, male body. One thigh was thrown over her and one arm wrapped around her, a large hand cupped her small breast. She’d never woken up beside anyone else before. She wriggled and the hand tightened, sending a shaft of pleasure shooting down through her belly.

What had she done?

Shit. She’d not only done it, she’d enjoyed it. More than enjoyed it. The memory of the pleasure sent tremors rippling through her, concentrating between her thighs, and she pressed her legs together to relieve the ache.

She’d never wanted a man before. How had Torr broken through her barriers? And what other barriers would he break if she allowed him to?

She remembered then.

Justin was dead.

The memory swept over her, so strong, she thought the pain would wash her away. She bit down on her lip, needing to focus. Justin had been her one friend, the only person who had ever offered her help and asked for nothing in return. Now, she was truly on her own. And maybe that was the best way to be. In the end, you couldn’t rely on anyone but yourself.

Letting Torr get close was a mistake, but she’d been upset, weak.

She glanced down at the hand against her breast, fingers splayed across her pale skin. Carefully, she unpeeled them, and slid from his embrace. A wave of regret washed over her as she inched herself away from him. She ignored the emotion—she was good at that—and stood up. For a moment, she swayed, reaching out to press her fingers against the wall.

Don’t be such a freaking wimp.