He gave her more.
His mouth stayed on hers, his kisses deep and drugging as the rain fell, and his fingers kept stroking her. Light and easy then deep, demanding. Pushing and taking until her sex was clamping eagerly around him and then—
She came.
A release that shook her body and had her hips thrusting hard against his hand. A release that sent pleasure spilling through her and driving deep the realization that—
I’m alive. I can feel. I can want. I can need.
I can love.
He still had her hands pinned. His fingers stroked her, softly now, as the aftershocks of pleasure hit her.
His jaw was locked. His eyes blazing. His control was still there, hanging by a thread.
He’d held on to that control, for her. But she didn’t want that control. She wanted all of him.
His fingers slid out of her. Gave her one last caress. He started to lift her jeans back into place.
“No.”
Now she did pull her hands from his hold. Because he let her. “Ryder, I want you.”
“I’m . . . trying to be stronger.”
She put her hands on his chest. “You don’t always have to be strong with me.” Her whisper. “With me, you can break.”
He wanted to. She could see the struggle on his face.
So she made it easier on him.
She spun around. Slapped her hands against the wall and kicked away her jeans. Sabine lifted her hips, arching so that her ass—
Ryder growled. Then his body was surrounding her. Cradling her. Covering her. If anyone saw them now . . .
I don’t care.
He adjusted his clothes. Parted her sex and pushed deep into her.
The pleasure hadn’t stopped. When he thrust into her, when he drove deep, the sensations nearly ripped her apart.
Too much.
So good.
So . . . Ryder.
Her next release contracted around him, tightening around his cock. He thrust. Withdrew. Thrust.
The rhythm was frantic. Desperate.
Then he was stiffening behind her. Holding her even tighter. Coming.
In the rain.
In the alley.
With her.
His body shuddered. His arms curled around her and hugged her. And he pressed a kiss to her neck. Not a bite. A kiss. Right over the wound that was finally healing.
In silence, he withdrew from her. Ryder straightened her clothes, his. His hands steadied her when her knees wanted to tremble.
Then he turned her around and stared into her eyes.
They were soaked through.
And she was so sated she just wanted to sink into his arms.
“When you come for me, your eyes burn.”
Sabine blinked. That wasn’t what she’d expected to hear.
“When you touched the primal who attacked you, smoke rose from your fingers. His chest . . . it burned.”
She didn’t remember that. She’d just been afraid. Desperate.
“When I kiss you, I can almost taste the fire.”
Was that good? Bad?
“You’re so much more than I ever expected.”
So was he.
He put his forehead against hers. Held her tighter. “If I could go back, I’d change it all.”
“There isn’t any going back.” She didn’t even want to look back. Why see the scars? “I just want to go forward.” She drew in a breath. “I’m ready to leave this town. Let’s forget about Keith. He doesn’t have my brother. He doesn’t have anything that I need.”
“He’ll hunt us.” Ryder shook his head. Raindrops slid off him. “I don’t want you always looking over your shoulder. I can finish this mess. If he’s the last tie connecting you to Genesis, then we sever the tie and make you free.”
Her laughter was weak. “There’s always another tie and another . . .” She just wanted to start new. To do that looking-forward bit, with him. “I want . . .”
You.
They’d never talked emotions. Just lust and need and power.
But it was more than just lust. What she felt for him was so much more.
A sudden ache stabbed at her, as if a knife had just been plunged into her stomach, and twisted. She sucked in a sharp breath and her nails sank into Ryder’s arms.
Her nails . . . her nails were turning black.
He bit me. The primal . . .
“Sabine?”
She pushed at Ryder. “It’s . . . happening.” The virus—whatever the hell it was—it was in her. She could feel it. Twisting. Cutting. She ran her tongue over her teeth. They felt normal, but her nails . . .
She held up her hands. “It’s happening,” she said again.
His face blanched. “No, no, it’s fucking not.”
Her gaze met his. She was so glad she’d taken the pleasure with him. So glad that they’d stopped in the rain.
The rain . . .
It was just a sprinkle now.
“You promised you’d help me,” Sabine reminded him. She fumbled, adjusting her clothes.
He had to help her.
But his face had locked into tortured lines. “I’m not killing you.”
The knife was stabbing her again. “It . . . hurts, Ryder.”
He shook her. “We can stop it.” He laced his fingers with hers. “Come on. Genesis made them. We can fix them. Hell, Wyatt said that you were the key—”
She wanted to tell Ryder that she felt more than lust for him.
But she couldn’t seem to speak. The stabbing was gone, but she felt as if she were burning up from the inside. Burning .
A moan slipped from her.
Ryder lifted her into his arms. “Hold on, love.” He started running then, moving so fast. “Please, hold on.”
Her vampire.
The fire built within her. Burning more. Hotter. Her hands curled around his neck. If she changed, he wouldn’t kill her. Sabine knew that.
Because she also knew, though he’d never said the words . . .
He loves me.
Which was only fair, since Sabine was sure that she loved her dark vampire.
Loved him and was very, very afraid that she might soon turn on him.
The others had no control. They killed.
Her black nails dug into his skin. Her teeth began to ache.
I don’t want to hurt him.
But when she turned fully primal, her control might not last.
It wasn’t midnight. Not even eleven o’clock yet. Ryder didn’t give a fuck. He kicked down the door at 49 Chartres, and when the humans turned toward him, he bellowed, “Adams! Keith Adams!”
Keith came running, his eyes wide. As soon as he got a good look at Ryder, and the woman lying so still in his arms, Keith stumbled to a halt. “Sabine?”
Ryder’s hold on her tightened. “One of the primals bit her. I thought . . . I thought the bite wouldn’t change her.”
“But it is.” A woman’s voice.
Keith backed up.
Ryder saw the woman walking toward him. Her hair hung in a long braid. Her eyes—green, focused—were on Sabine. “The virus is pushing through her body now.”
Clinical. “You’re the doctor Keith mentioned.”
She nodded. “My name’s Cassie, and I’m here to help you.”
He stalked toward her. “Don’t help me. Help her.”
Cassie’s stare drifted over Sabine. Worry flashed on her face. “Bring her to the next room. There’s a table in there that we can use.”
Ryder followed her, hurrying inside the small room. Keith shoved some papers off the table, and carefully, Ryder put Sabine on the table. He took her hand. Wanted to roar when he saw the dark nails.
The woman—Cassie—reached into a black bag.