Caridad Pineiro - Death Calls

She had experienced this kind of nasty excitement after her father’s death. The rush of losing all restraint. The surrender to doing whatever you wanted, even though you knew it was wrong. Her reckless nature had embraced the uncivilized, the raw need that had never really surrendered to her control.

As for her earlier decision not to see Ryder…It fled in the wake of her rising desire.

Diana shrugged her shoulders and her blouse dropped to the floor. Reaching up, she undid the front clasp of her bra.

His rough groan caressed her psyche. And then a shadow shifted on the fire escape. Ryder’s shadow.

Staring straight at him, she parted the bra and let it fall. She stood there, expectant. Her pulse racing.

Her earlier thoughts about needing something more normal—more controlled—reared up, telling her that she should ask him to leave. She had proved her point, reminding him that she had power, but her determination failed her.

I want you to touch me, she told him.

But he stayed on the fire escape, exerting a self-control she couldn’t muster.

Closing her eyes to block out the sight of his silhouette, she cupped her breasts and ran her thumbs across her nipples. Her body grew damp and tense with rising need. With want of his hands and mouth and…his bite.

Dios, but she couldn’t forget how the demon made her feel.

Ryder.

A thud forced her eyes open. He stood by the window, dressed in black, breathing roughly, fists balled at his sides. His nearly black hair, long and tousled, hung to his shoulders. The goatee surrounding his mouth…

She imagined how that would feel on her skin and then had little time to wait as he stalked over, dropped to his knees and took one aching nipple into his mouth.

She moaned and dug her hands into the waves of his thick hair.

“I’ll take it that you like that.” Despite his chuckle, a hard edge marked his voice.

As conflicted as she might be about their future, it was impossible to deny that, at least right now, she wanted him, no matter what. No matter that by the wanting, she lost a piece of herself.

The inky locks of his hair were a shock of darkness against the pale creaminess of his skin and her own olive coloring. The contrast made her ache inside as her excitement escalated. Whenever he was near, her senses were on overload, with everything more clear and alive. More demanding.

“I want you.” His brown-eyed gaze was so intense it made her insides quiver.

“As much as I want you—”

“You’ve been doubting the wisdom of this. I know. I felt it…. You didn’t want me here tonight, did you?”

“No.” But she raked her hands through his hair, the silk of the longer strands alive in her hands. He had let it grow since she had first met him.

“I know it scares you—the need. But don’t you think I need you as badly? Or can’t vampires need?” He once again tortured her by running the soft bristle of his beard across her nipples. But that wasn’t her undoing. It was the confusion and pain that laced his words. Confusion much like she was feeling. Pain so deep her heart faltered from it.

“I care for you, only…Foley says that each bite—”

“I won’t bite again,” he said. Not unless you ask me to.

“I won’t ask again. I can’t lose myself like this. I can’t stay with—”

“Don’t push me away, darlin’. I know you’re scared, but I am, too. In all my life, you’re the only woman I’ve ever…”

Ryder didn’t finish. Instead he buried his head against her midsection and wrapped his arms tight around her like a supplicant embracing his reason for being. Then he shocked her by kissing the scar along her ribs—a product of the drive-by shooting that had killed her father.

Diana closed her eyes against the sudden threat of tears and the constriction that closed her throat. She cradled his head and stroked his hair, trying to ease his pain. Trying to curb her own.

She might tell herself that she was afraid of what was happening with them. Of how he invaded her senses and her mind. She might even delude herself into believing that she could make love to him tonight or any other night and walk away whenever she wanted. But in her heart, she suspected that what she felt for him she would never feel for anyone else.

She wasn’t sure she could live with that, but she couldn’t deny him, either.

She made the next move. She parted the fine black linen to reveal his chest. Nothing marred the pale expanse of his skin. If anything, his muscles were more defined than when they’d first met. His body leaner, more…powerful. The energy seemed to pour off him, calling to her.

She laid her hand above his heart. It beat fast and a little erratic. She wanted to believe its hurried rhythm came from her touch.

“I don’t regret…us,” she whispered. Funny, but it was the truth despite her doubts. He was her damnation and her salvation.

“Let’s not talk about this now. The night is short and…I don’t want to spend it…”

Burying her head against his chest, she wrapped her arms around him. Her embrace shook loose something inside of him.

He needed to make it impossible for her to deny that this was real, no matter how many doubts both of them now seemed to be having.

It was sweet torture, the feel of her breasts skimming his chest. Her warmth slowly worked its way into the cold of his body. The heat of her passion drove the chill from his skin.

She tugged him toward her bed. “This is what you want, isn’t it?”

She wore her false bravado face. Funny how he could recognize it so easily. Funny how he wanted to drive the fear from her until she truly welcomed him into her bed. Invited him into her heart.

“Can you deny it’s what you want, as well?” he said.

She couldn’t lie to herself. She needed more of him. She always needed more even if she refused to give a name to that desire. Even as she wondered if it was a result of some vampire head game, much as Foley had suggested.

Ask me to touch you, he said.

Why?

His demanding reply came swiftly. Because I need you to want me as much as I want you.

“Dios, Ryder. I need you.”

Slowly, way too slowly, he lowered his hand until it rested on top of the nest of curls between her legs. She pressed her hips up, urging him on. He breached the edge of her panties and unerringly found her center.

Beneath his fingers, Ryder experienced the pull of her. The scent of her arousal perfumed the air, so strong that the vampire within begged for a taste. He had lost the battle last time. He wouldn’t allow it to happen tonight. If the animal came…she might hate him—or herself—for surrendering to the demon.

He dropped a trail of kisses along her body. She opened her legs, knowing his intent and welcoming it. He slipped between her legs, brought his mouth to her sensitive nub.

Her hips arched in acceptance.

Her wetness—slick against him—and the smell of her…the heat…He groaned and she held his head to her.

He lost the battle.

The change surged over him. It was almost too much. The smell of their sexual musk. Her racing pulse reverberating in his ears. Her nether lips, wet and flush with blood. The demon imagined feeding there, at her most private of places.

He gasped at the roiling passion making his loins ache and looked up at her with his vampire face. Fangs exposed. Eyes glowing. Skin flushed and warm.

Diana stared at him. His arms were braced at her sides, shaking. Shoulders heaving from the force of his breaths. His rough, harsh pants reminded her of a lion at a zoo, caged. The human in him was barely keeping the animal behind bars.

In her mind, suddenly, she saw herself as he did. Her breathing. Sharp little pants. His teeth, sinking into her swollen flesh. Blood, rich with life. Passion. Flowing through both of them. Charging them. Her strangled cry of pain followed by pleasure that would rob her of herself.