Scent of Salvation (Chronicles of Eorthe #1) (31 page)

She tugged at the clasps of his kilt. “What’s the freaking combination number for this thing?” His hard cock pressed between her thighs. She craved him, wanted him inside her body, but on her terms.

The last few days had been a whirlwind of events out of her control. That stopped now. The clasp came undone and she grinned in triumph, then peeled the kilt off his hips.

Sorin lay back, arms out to his sides as she leaned over him.

“I’m going to make you howl,” she whispered.

“You made me howl last night.”

She squirmed at the memory. He really had howled, and she’d loved it. “I’m going to do it again.”

“Have mercy,” he whispered, his voice gone husky and deep. It made something inside her do a backward somersault, sending a hard shiver down her spine.

She leaned in for a kiss; however when he rose to accept it, she bypassed his lush lips. With the tip of her tongue, she traced a path from his ear, along his neck, and paused over his chest. She swirled it around his nipple until he arched his back.

He growled. The masculine sound just made her wetter. “Teasing is a dangerous game to play.”

She bit his nipple, smug with the hiss that escaped between his teeth. “You’re a dangerous male. Is there anything I can do to you that would be considered safe?”

Hunger, intense and hot, was in his gaze. She didn’t need to have shifter senses to know he wanted to make her his meal. Unyielding hands grasped her hips as Sorin rocked his cock against her pussy.

Denying his access, she sat up. “No touchy, touchy.” She shook her finger at him.

He chuckled, dark and insidious. “Will you stop me?”

She weaved her fingers through his and easily pried them from her flesh. She didn’t doubt he allowed her to do this. She didn’t have delusions about her strength. He could take her any way he wanted, when he wanted. She couldn’t stop him. She wouldn’t want to.

With a small struggle, she set his hands by his head, never releasing his gaze. “I’m going to ride you.” She gave him a small peck on the mouth, then licked along his bottom lip, teasing the scar that pulled it into a perpetual frown.

The sensuous ache only deepened as he stared at her. He placed his hands behind his head. “Make me howl then. I dare you.”

She grinned with a silent promise. Reaching between her legs, she grasped his hard cock with a firm grip and stroked. She ran her nipples over his chest as she leaned forward, arched her back slightly and moaned.

His eyes fluttered shut.

“You’re cheating,” she whispered close to his ear. His cock felt so heavy and thick in her hand. She remembered how much he stretched her pussy. The ache, the pleasure. Could she fit him in her throat? He hadn’t let her get that far last night.

She crawled until she sat between his legs, still stroking him as he rocked his hips. Veins bulged around the hard, flushed rod. Pearled fluid beaded on the tip and she licked it.

“Yes.” Sorin reached for her but stopped and returned his hands behind his head with a frustrated snarl.

Slipping his cock inside her mouth, she took her time running her tongue over him, enjoying the sensation. She pressed him deeper and deeper into her throat with each languid thrust.

Sorin’s chest heaved in labored breaths as he made encouraging noises. His cock spasmed. “Please, yes…” Sorin thrust it farther with a gentle hip motion.

The plea was what she wanted to hear. She slipped him out of her mouth and straddled his hips once more.

“You’d best fuck me soon because I’m not waiting much longer.” He bit out his words.

“Patience.” She rubbed her wet pussy along his length and coaxed him to her entry, letting the tip poke in and out.

Sorin arched his back, baring his teeth, sharp canines glistening in the firelight—the feral part of his soul becoming part of his civil form.

Susan didn’t know how she’d ever tame him.

She didn’t really want to.

With a sharp thrust, he pushed inside her, sending a wave of pleasure over her body. “Oh, yes.” Bending forward, she licked the sweat beading on his chest, her true goal coming closer. “You cheated again.” She nipped his nipple.

“Ouch.” He flinched and chuckled.

“Bad wolf.”

He propped his weight on one elbow, leaning up. “I’m going to show you just how bad I can—”

“Shh.” She pressed her finger against his lips at the same time as she let him sink his cock all the way inside her. “Not tonight.”

Gasping for breath, he returned to his back, a promise of retribution sparking in his gaze. She hoped he remembered that pledge.

She pumped her hips, setting an easy rhythm. The control empowered her. Gave her a confidence she’d never experienced in the bedroom. She thrust against him, never breaking his intense gaze.

“Sit higher.” The sinful tenor of his voice coated her like an erotic fantasy. “I want to watch your breasts.”

Her womb clutched at the thought and she did as he asked. Adding a bounce to her motion, she watched his gaze slide lower and hungrier.

A low growl rumbled inside his chest. She sensed it with her hands more than her ears.

“Touch yourself.”

She treaded in new territory. No one had ever wanted to watch before. She ran her hand over her torso. Her over-sensitive skin electrified. She added her other hand, stroking and caressing. Cupping her breasts, she fondled the smooth flesh.

Sorin groaned and thrust with more urgency.

She pinched her nipples, letting the slight pain mingle with the bliss he gave her. It built. Higher and higher. She tugged. Harder and harder. Arching back, she clenched around his thick cock, milking him.

“Oh please…” Sorin grasped her hips and overrode her pace. Driving inside, he thrust hard, guiding her body to ride him deep. He growled and snapped at the air, digging his fingers into her flesh. “Fuck me. Oh yes.”

She let go and rode the power, the passion. She’d driven him wild.

He sat, clutching her, and bit right where her clavicle met her shoulder. A feral growl emitted from his throat while he pushed so deep inside against her womb.

Crying out, she let him support her body as wave upon wave crashed down upon her. Drowning in the ecstasy, she couldn’t surface. Her mind went white with the release. It took her to the brink and dropped her back into her body where Sorin held her, whispering sweet sounds of satisfaction in her ear.

With his head resting back on the blankets and his eyes fluttering closed, he rubbed her thighs. “Oh, my Susan. You can tease me like that anytime.”

She collapsed on his chest, her limbs lifeless. “Not tonight.”

“No.” He laughed. “Not tonight.”

She sighed and breathed. The only two things she could still manage to do. Something sizzled on the fire, and she rolled her head with great effort. “I think dinner is ready.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

The next morning, Susan lay on her back enjoying the warm sunlight. The Temple’s stone walls broke through the forest like fingers poking through the sand above their campsite.

Sorin snored softly in his sleep, his face pressed into the crook of her neck.

Sleeping on the ground hadn’t been as bad as she’d imagined. Not with a hot male to keep her warm and occupied. She ran her fingers over his hair. Conditioner didn’t exist in this world, yet the strands flowed like silk.

He gave her a little lick on the neck. “Good morning.” His voice was rough with sleep.

She rolled on her side to face him. “I’m glad you’re awake. I have so many questions.” She’d been up since dawn thinking about the Temple and shifters.

Stretching, he eyed her. “So early?” He rubbed his face. “Can’t we eat first?”

“No. Who built the Temple?” The two dens she’d visited were both built into naturally formed homes with caves and tunnels. They had stairs and gates but nothing constructed.

“My people.” He rubbed his face. “Why?”

She sat up and took the blankets with her. “If your people built it, then why are there no other structures?”

“Like?”

“Houses, villages—you know, other buildings.” Nothing had changed around the Temple since the day she arrived, yet it seemed like ages had passed.

“We used to travel as packs, following the herds across the land before the vampires came. The Temple was a place of meeting and of worship. We didn’t need buildings.”

Things still nagged at her about the timeline. The shifter history sounded so similar to the Native Americans, so maybe other species would have continued along the same line as Earth? She pulled on her dress and went to the entrance of the Temple.

Sorin followed, tying his kilt around his hips.

“Your people worship a goddess.” She climbed the stairs.

“Used to.”

She spun to face him. “Then who do the vampires worship?”

“A god.”

The bottom of her gut dropped out.

“Some of them wear a cross on a chain.”

She sank onto the steps. Christian vampires? She giggled. Oh, the irony.

Sorin knelt in front of her, peering at her face. “Susan?”

“I’m all right. Just—shocked.”

“From what I’d been told, they tried to convert us but this was way before the war, during the time of illness. The priestess wouldn’t allow their missionaries on tribe lands. Many shifters still left, though, seeking help and salvation. To this day their descendents follow the vampire ways. They even live among them. Fight for them.”

“I’m so sorry this happened.” Ancestor guilt, even a dimension removed, dug deep into her heart. Nothing could change the past. “There’s peace between shifters and vampires now?”

He shrugged. “A tentative one. Our numbers grow but vampire weapons are more advanced. We are at an impasse.”

The cold knowledge of the possible future weighed heavy on her conscience. “They could destroy you.” On Earth, the settlers had tried to annihilate the Natives.

“Their food source? I think not.”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that.” It was true. There were too many variables to take in. So their future would split from that on Earth because the vampires needed a blood source. She rubbed her fingertips where Benic had poked her and taken a blood sample. Over the last few days, she’d been too busy to wonder what he’d done with it. “How advanced are the vampires compared to shifters?”

“Ships that can cross the ocean, weapons that kill from a distance and I’ve heard rumors of a machine that travels on steam.” He scowled. “Do you think they can help you get home?”

“No.” She took his face in her hands. “No.” She repeated with more force. The steam age—she had a few decades to wait before they’d be even close. She glanced at the spot where the portal had dropped her. “I wouldn’t go.”

Sorin turned his face into her palm and kissed it.

She’d found her mate.

“Can I hunt now?” His expression appeared so wistful.

She laughed. “As long as I don’t have to skin it.” After getting to her feet, she strolled toward the abandoned building and entered. She stopped by the vine wall where she’d been entangled when they’d first met. He had petrified her.

Resting his chin on her head, he leaned against her. “Who would have guessed we’d be mated a few days after meeting?”

“Not me.” She’d been so confused and frightened faced with a living werewolf in a magical-like forest.

Sorin spun to face the entrance, dropping his kilt and shifting to feral form all in one smooth motion.

All her muscles froze. “What is it?”

He sniffed the air and crept forward. “Peder is close. His scent is on the wind.”

Chapter Thirty-Four

In all the centuries Benic had lived he’d never understood females of any race. They had a secret culture males couldn’t contrive.

Kele strolled way ahead of him with Ahote next to her. The little seducing mutt, Peder, walked behind them, with his Payami guards on each side, and ahead of him.

Benic brought up the rear with his own escort—two of his finest vampire warriors. Both had behaved impeccably in the den, not gathering unwanted attention and keeping their ears open. His castle guard was comprised of domesticated shifters. These males accompanying him were valued knights, vampire brothers whose blood ran thick with honor and duty to their nation. They understood the mission and swore to give their immortal lives to accomplish it.

Kele glared at the dark shifter in feral form. “Ahote, if you give me one stone of trouble with Sorin, I’ll tell every female in the den you carry a pox.”

Turning his face away from the shifters, Benic hid his grin. He didn’t doubt Kele would do as she threatened. He almost wished Ahote would attack the Apisi alpha just to witness Kele’s follow through.

“As long as Susan is returned, I see no reason to defend my honor.”

Benic rolled his eyes. Shifter ideas of honor varied greatly from vampires’. Sorin stealing Susan from the den while she still wore Ahote’s mark had lessened the hunter’s dominance in the pack.