“Be good, Sidonie,” he murmured.
Her lips tightened, but she couldn’t hold on to the irritation. A satisfied grin wiped it away, leaving nothing but anticipation behind. She’d wanted an alpha male, and that’s what she’d gotten. She only hoped she survived the night.
Chapter Eleven
ADEN WAS RUNNING on pure adrenaline. The blood of his enemies was soaking the battlefield, while he and his people were unharmed. It didn’t matter that the battlefield was a run-down house in a crime-riddled neighborhood of Chicago. This was the time in which he lived; these were the enemies he faced. And defeated. And this was only the beginning.
He glanced at Sidonie sitting next to him. He’d felt the heat between her thighs, the way she’d lifted herself to his fingers, probably without even knowing she was doing it. His good girl wanted to be very bad tonight, and he was going to make her wish come true.
He reached up and pulled the elastic band from her hair, catching her curls as they tumbled over his hand. Grabbing a fistful, he tugged her head backward and took her mouth in a hard, hungry kiss. She stiffened in surprise, but then opened her mouth eagerly, her tongue tangling with his until she snagged on one of his emerging fangs. A drop of her blood swelled from the tiny pinprick, and Aden sucked it up, pulling her even more tightly against him. He was consumed by the taste of her, by the heat of her mouth and the passion of her response. He would have forgotten himself and fucked her right there in the back seat had they not arrived at his building in that moment.
He held her hand across the lobby and into the elevator, through the transfer to the private elevator, and down the hall and into his personal suite. But once the door was closed and they were alone, he grabbed the front of her jacket and pulled her to him, crushing his mouth against her tender lips in a fervor of teeth and tongues. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he swung her around and pressed her against the wall. Ripping open her jeans, he jammed his fingers between her thighs, finding her hot and wet, cursing as the tight pants kept him from getting to her.
“I told you to wear a skirt, damn it,” he growled.
“I can’t wear a skirt to a fight,” she said breathlessly, struggling to get her hands under his T-shirt.
“Fuck this.” He swung her up into his arms, strode across the sitting room, and shoved the bedroom door open with a punch of power.
SID WANTED TO laugh for joy when Aden dropped her on the bed and stripped off her clothes. There was no sexy striptease, no slow peeling away of layers. Her clothes were in the way, and he got rid of them. But if she’d thought this was any indicator of his intentions for how the rest of the night would go, if she thought he’d be on her and in her as quickly as she’d hoped . . . she was mistaken.
He dragged off his own clothes and prowled up and onto the bed, his body a study in lethal grace, muscles bunching and releasing in an elegant dance of perfection. His shaft hung between his legs, hard and thick, dragging along her thighs and belly in a trail of velvet heat as he made his way up her body, until his powerful thighs pinned her hips to the mattress, his cock so close to her yearning pussy, but so very far away. He leaned forward and clasped her wrists in one huge hand, stretching her arms above her head and holding them there as he kissed her.
Sid had thought she was ready for this, ready for whatever Aden would do tonight. She’d expected him to take her hard and fast, goaded by battle-driven adrenaline, expected his kisses to be a demand for surrender. But what he did was far more diabolical. His kiss was a whispered seduction, a hint of things to come that left her weak with wanting. His lips caressed, his tongue danced, stroking her teeth and gums until every inch of her mouth felt branded by his touch.
And that was only the beginning. He moved on to her cheeks, her forehead, every inch of her skin, tasting and kissing his way to her neck, lingering at her taut jugular until she was trembling with anticipation, aching for the sweet release of his bite. But instead of biting her, he lifted his head and smiled. At least, she supposed one could call that a smile. It was wicked and charming, a warning and an invitation. And before Sid could figure out what he intended, he’d captured her wrists in something soft and tied them to the headboard.
Her eyes went wide. She twisted around, looking above her head to see that the soft something was a bright silk scarf. Sneaky vampire. He must have had it there all the time. She tugged on the scarf and realized two things—the binding was loose enough that she could slip the binding if she wanted, and she really didn’t want to. She lowered her head and met Aden’s hot gaze, and she knew this was a test. She could escape, but she’d be leaving behind far more than the silk binding. She’d be leaving Aden.
His eyes held hers, asking the silent question. Sid’s pulse was throbbing in time to her racing heart. She was scared. Of what he had planned, yes, but also of what it said about her that she’d never been so aroused in her life, and that she wanted to stay. She licked her lips nervously, and his eyes snapped to the sweep of her tongue before coming back to meet her gaze with that same challenging look.
Damn it. With a soft sigh, she surrendered. Consciously relaxing her body, she went soft beneath him, letting him feel her submission.
Aden’s eyes lit up, glowing so brightly that she could see the blue shadow limning her breasts, her jutting nipples. With a rumbling growl, he lowered his mouth to her neck once more, and Sid felt a zing of lust that sank from her breasts to her belly and below. A rush of wet heat made her groan aloud, and she struggled against his pinning thighs, needing to spread her legs, to open herself to his cock where it lay on her belly, taunting her with its heavy presence.
She flexed her hips in silent demand, and Aden snarled a warning, a rustle of sound along the overheated skin of her neck. The blunt backs of his fangs slid beneath her jaw, and she panted eagerly, waiting for the sting of his bite. But he kept going downward, teasing her with feathering kisses on her shoulders, her chest, finally biting her, closing his teeth over the taut tendon between neck and shoulder. But it was only his teeth, not his fangs, and she moaned a protest, her eyes closed, her head thrashing back and forth as she tugged on the silk bindings, wanting to bury her fingers in his hair and force his fangs back to her neck.
Aden ignored her wordless pleas as his hot mouth closed over a nipple. He sucked and tormented, his tongue scraping around and around until her nipple was hard and swollen. And then he moved on to her other breast, thrumming the abandoned nipple between finger and thumb as his mouth sucked and teased again until both nipples were aching and puffy. Sid moaned, the rush of sensation from her breasts adding to her growing arousal until she thought she would come right there, just from his tongue.
He took his mouth away, and she nearly cried, thinking he was leaving her on the edge again. But then she felt the scrape of his fangs along the soft swell of her breast, and she held her breath, waiting for the thrill of his bite, swallowing the cry of need that wanted to escape her throat. She looked down and saw two lines of pinprick blood droplets following the path of his fangs along the curve of her breast. And she saw something else. Aden’s back was tattooed, something big that flowed up his broad back and stretched to his shoulders. She raised her head from the pillow, straining to see what it was, but Aden lifted his gaze at that moment, his eyes gleaming their midnight blue as they met and held her stare.
Sid froze, mesmerized by the erotic sight of Aden in all his magnificence, thighs bracketing her hips, muscles like banded iron as he held himself above her, his eyes never leaving hers as his tongue slowly stroked her breast, licking up the tiny crimson drops of blood, letting her see as he savored the taste of her, as he rolled the small amount of blood over his tongue, drawing every nuance, every subtle flavor, like a man tasting a fine wine. His gaze was raw with desire, and she thought for sure he was finally going to give her what she wanted. He’d taken her blood, and he was blatantly, gloriously ready, his cock brushing against her thighs whenever he moved, smooth, hot skin over the taut steel of his shaft.