Sharon Ashwood - Ravenous

She reached for him, finding what she wanted. She ran her fingernails over his most sensitive places, letting the suggestion of pain salt his obvious pleasure. His ragged intake of breath told her all she needed to know. The sound made her nipples ache for the return of his clever mouth.

Trembling with the need for control, he finally grasped her hands, pinning them above her head. The old mattress swayed as he moved above her, poised for his conquest.

Her power, full and free, reached out and balanced his, strength for strength. His darkness would never overwhelm Holly's brightness; nor would she ever banish his night. No need for either of them to hold back now.

His hands released their iron grip, slowly, patiently sliding down her flesh, tracing the flare of her hips, cupping the mounds of her rich femininity. He kissed her right there , the suggestion of his lips and tongue making her part and arch in welcome.

He entered with a deep stroke, filling her, stretching her, holding still for a long moment before either of them could bear to move. Then, unable to wait another second, she thrust her hips again and again, finding the position, the rhythm, drawing him in inch after thick, delicious inch. Discomfort danced with sensuous hunger.

More. Harden

She undulated beneath him, near bliss. Pulsing in concert with their bodies, their power laced like the clasp of fingers. Holly loosed her hands, digging her fingers into his smooth flesh, fighting for better purchase, more leverage.

Hot, agonizing fullness rose as their bodies met, push after push. She gasped, driven toward the inevitable crest. Dazzled. Desperate to drive him deeper.

Just as she felt reason falling away, he stopped, holding her quiet with a grip of iron.

"No!" Holly protested. No, no, don't stop now !

He placed his mouth low on her belly and licked a long, slow stroke the length of her, ending at her throat, the faintest rasp of fang along her hypersensitive flesh.

"You're mine," he said, and gave her a long, slow kiss. "I Desire you, Holly. I love you."

Then came the final, perfectly aimed thrust.

She imploded in a spasm of pleasure, blind and deaf. A torrent of sensation shredded her, every muscle and nerve torn asunder. He came, hot and full with the power of their union. It was magic of the most ancient, most powerful kind.

Later her memory was made up of fragments of torchlight, old herbs, the stillness of the Castle, and of Alessandro. He was laughing with pure joy.

"I suppose," he said, toying with her hair, "that we really should go."

Holly lifted her head from where it rested on Alessandro's chest. Her limbs felt rubbery with satiation. He was right—they should be getting out of the Castle—but she wasn't sure she could walk. Lying in the warm bed, murmuring about everything and nothing between bouts of passion, was much more pleasant.

"In a minute," she said, fondling the thin line of gold hair that crossed his belly, growing darker as it marched south toward magnificence.

Her heart expanded, full of amazement. His skin was warm, his cheeks flushed with lovemaking. He looked alive. Almost. Incredible but true, he was feeding on pure emotion. So this is what it means to be Chosen. As long as we love, he can live without taking from another .

There was no danger of running out of food. Holly could see a steady diet of mutual lust in their future, and that would be a long one. An immortal one. This kind of magic kept a witch young forever. That thought penetrated her happy delirium. Immortality . She had power now, more than she had ever dreamed, and much she needed to learn about it. There was more than a lifetime's work ahead.

Even the immediate future looked crowded. Now she had a mate, one who would form the center of her life. There was school. There was the business. She wanted to make things right with Ashe, to bring her back into the family. She wanted to know more about the castle, much more—like whose room was this, anyway?

And they had to find Mac. She had already let her magic wander the Castle in search of the detective, but she couldn't find him. That worried her. Hopefully she would find him in Fairview. If he was human again, as Geneva so briefly became, he was going to need help. No one could go through what he had without consequences.

Holly shifted her cheek against Alessandro's chest. She could hear his heart, faint and slow, but it had a steady beat. Vampire's hearts beat now and then under the influence of extreme emotion, but this sounded content. An interesting bit of magic, bringing his heart to life .

Other parts of him were also stirring beneath the sheets. Her own heart sped up, a tingle of excitement curling her lips into a smile.

Then the pounding was outside their bubble of warmth, battering at the door. Before Holly completely sat up, Alessandro was off the bed, into his jeans, sword in hand. They exchanged a look after Holly pulled on her clothes. He nodded slowly, and Holly removed the wards she had placed around the door. Alessandro raised the sword.

The door burst open, magically pushed from the outside. It was Omara, chic in a pin-striped pantsuit and square-heeled pumps.

"I felt that," she said softly. "I tasted it on my tongue like dark wine. I thought you might be Chosen before, but this time it is real." She looked from Holly to the bed to Alessandro's naked chest. Her expression was indescribable, like a child lost in wonder. Like a jealous queen. There was love and loss and something calculating in those eyes. Something hungry.

Despite all her newfound strength, Holly felt a brush of fear.

Omara's gaze found Alessandro's. "When you didn't come out of the Castle, I discovered that I cared too much to leave you here. You were injured." The words seemed to catch in her throat. "Your blood scent made you easy to find."

Alessandro lowered his sword. "I wish I could believe that's really why you came. More to the point, it would reflect poorly on a victorious queen to abandon her best warriors after the battle was won. It might make it hard to get good help."

Omara looked away, finding something interesting in the tapestry beside her. Her profile was perfect, except for a faint quiver of emotion in the lips. "I am not entirely without tender feelings. Don't underestimate me."

"I never do."

Soon the three of them stood outside the arched wooden door in the alley. After the Castle's dusty damp, the sea air had never smelled so good and clean.

Holly admired the door. Both inside and outside the Castle, it seemed to have shifted a few blocks from where Geneva's portal had opened. Unexpected, but not a bad thing. A door in an alley was easier to manage than one hanging in midair on a playing field. Nice of the universe to catch that design flaw .

Holly pushed the bolt shut, her other hand resting against the iron strapping. She could feel power rippling beneath the physical surface—not just hers, but the power of the Castle itself. There was also Elaine's magic, and Geneva's. They had all left their traces in the matrix that made up the passage between her world and the Castle.

Omara stood a few steps away, watching Holly. The look was at once critical and grudgingly impressed. "Your permanent portal is very clever, but it can't be left unattended."

"I know," said Holly, not really interested in Omara's input. She slid both hands along the iron until they touched the wood. The magic of the door knew her, leaping like an eager puppy. The current coursed through her body, up one arm and down the other, brushing against her in silent greeting.

Holly drank it in, considering what she needed to do. The door opened on an entire realm of possibility. People who needed saving. Monsters that really should be locked up forever. She had created access to her world. Was she going to take responsibility for who passed through?