I smiled and tossed my panties next to my dress, then stepped forward and straddled him. I wrapped my arms around his neck then slowly lowered, until the tip of his cock was barely inside.
"Is this what you want?" I said softly, my lips brushing his as I spoke.
"Yes. God yes," he groaned, his hands going to my waist in an effort to push me down.
"How badly do you want it?" My thighs were trembling with the effort of resisting the fierce pressure of his grip and remaining above him. Especially when all I wanted to do was plunge down on him.
"Very." It came out as little more than a hiss of air. It tore at my lips, tasting of hunger and desire and need. Everything I felt, everything I wanted. "God, please."
Those two words tasted very sweet. The man who controlled every little aspect of his world was begging me to finish what he'd started. The turn-around was an incredible turn-on.
I slowly pressed down, shuddering at the sheer pleasure of it. The heat of him filled me, completed me, and yet it wasn't just flesh. As I'd feared, it also became a meeting of souls, a strengthening of the ties between us.
Part of me just wanted to get up and run, but it was already too late for that. So I tried to ignore the heat of him in my mind, concentrating instead on the heat of his flesh and on spiraling pleasure. His breathing was short, sharp, his body rearing under mine. I rode him hard, grinding into him, enjoying the urgency, feeling the pleasurable tautness grow and grow, until my whole body was shaking with the force of it. Then it shattered and I came, shuddering and shaking and moaning at the sheer depth of it—a depth that was body and soul. A heartbeat later he followed me into that sweet oblivion, his body fierce in mine as he came, hard.
Then it was over.
For a moment I did nothing more than simply sit there. My body was replete, satisfied, and yet my heart was torn. I wanted this, I needed this—needed him—and yet at the same time, I hated it. Hated the need—hated him.
Hated me for not being strong enough to resist what my soul craved.
I pushed away from him, grabbed my clothes, and walked to the door. My hand was on the door knob when he said, "Same time tomorrow, then."
I didn't say anything, just opened the door and walked out.
And yet I knew that, come tomorrow, I'd be back.
Chapter Eight
I found a bathroom and quickly cleaned myself up, then got dressed. The receptionist bid me a cheery goodbye as I left, and I somehow managed to drag up a smile and a nod as I went out the door.
Once in the car, the shaking began, and for several seconds I could do nothing more than grip the steering wheel against the reaction. God, how was I going to get past this and not have it destroy everything I held dear? I really didn't know, and that frightened me more anything fate had thrown at me so far.
I needed someone to talk to. Someone who stood outside my own little circle, but who knew me well enough to understand. And there was only one person who fit the criteria.
Dia.
I grabbed my phone and quickly dialed her number. She didn't answer, but her phone clicked over to message bank, and her sultry tone said, "I'm with a client at the moment, so please leave a message. Riley, if you need to talk, I'll meet you at the usual place at five-thirty."
I smiled as I hung up. Dia was a powerful—and famous—psychic, and this wasn't the first time she'd anticipated my need to talk to her. Obviously, whatever vibes I'd been sending out into the universe were strong enough for her to pick up.
I threw my phone back into my handbag, then started up the car and headed for the Directorate.
Kade did something of a double-take when I walked into the office. "Well," he said, leaning back in his chair and giving me a wide grin. "Don't you look deliciously summery. Who'd you dress up for?"
"No one special." I dumped my bag on the desk and plopped down on the chair. "How did you go at the clubs?"
He shrugged, his gaze lingering on my legs as I crossed them and slid forward towards my desk. "It seems that neither women were patrons at the same club. Crowley preferred Shades, and Bailey was a regular at Indigo Desires and Dark Arts."
None of which I'd heard of, but then, I wasn't a part of that desperate little world. I leaned forward so the scanner could check my eye, then clicked into the system to do a search on the plate number Kye had given me. "I supposed the managers didn't notice anything unusual about either woman in the week leading up to their deaths?"
"Got it in one." He shifted, clicking the mouse, then added, "I went to Dante's, too. The owner wasn't in but I talked to the bartender. He's never seen either woman."
"Which doesn't mean there isn't a connection between your case and mine."
"I still think it's a coincidence, nothing more." He glanced at the screen again. "How'd it go with Vinny?"
"She claims to know nothing about the deaths, and states that killing her energy sources like that is nothing more than wasting seduction time and effort."
He raised an eyebrow. "And you believe her?"
I hesitated, and wrinkled my nose. "I don't know. That woman is a consummate liar and I can't use telepathy in her den. "
"So we keep a watch on her?"
"Yeah, though I've got to clear it with Jack, first."
"Clear what with me?" Jack said, as he stalked into the room.
His expression was dark and my stomach sank. It surely meant another murder had occurred, and we really didn't need that right now.
"I want the current observation on Vinny expanded to a full time watch. She claims she's not connected with the unsolved deaths, but I'm not sure if I believe her. I think we need to see who is coming in and out of her den." Because she might be a vampire, and might have the usual daylight restrictions, but those restrictions didn't mean she couldn't be involved in some way with these killings. "Even if the murders aren't Vinny's handwork, they're happening on her turf and I can't believe she doesn't know about them."
Or that she wouldn't be using that knowledge to her own advantage. Vinny, after all, was all about climbing the financial ladder. And if someone was here with her permission, they'd be paying for the privilege.
"You'll have to arrange the day shift watch between you, Kade and Iktar. Rhoan's on another case right now, and we can't afford to have him off it. And make sure your watch is not at the expense of the other investigations." He stopped in front of the coffee maker, grabbed a cup and began filling it up. The smell of semi-burned beans filled the air and I wrinkled my nose again. Jack didn't seem to care as he took a sip then turned around to face us. "What sort of progress have we got on the beheading cases?"
"I have another possible witness. He gave me the license plate number of a car he saw taking off from the area at the time of the murder."
"That's a start." Jack paused, his gaze meeting mine. "Cole told me about the mess at Dante's this morning. Well done on that."
"Thanks," I glanced at the computer as the search finally spat out the name and address of the car owner. I transferred the information across to police records and started a cross-check search, just to see whether my hunch that the car had been stolen was correct. "I did hear that our beheading victims—and Dante Starke—are all members of the Melbourne vampire council. Is that true?"
He studied me for a second, his green eyes giving little away. "Where did you hear that?"
I raised my eyebrows. "The source doesn't really matter, does it?"
"Did Quinn tell you this?"
"No. He gave me a general background on the council, but not specifics. I know he's an advisor, like you."
"You are?" Kade said, surprise in his voice.
"In my capacity as Director of the Guardian division, yes." Jack's gaze flicked from Kade back to me. "Who sits on either the local or greater council is not something we advertise. There are few outside those two circles who know."