Dreams of a Dark Warrior

FORTY-FOUR

Declan edged closer.

In a way, this was like a military op. Yet never had an objective meant this much to him. And in no plan of attack before had he ever felt this much conflict within himself.

Stripping in front of her was one of the hardest things he’d ever done. Storm a Cerunno nest? Routine. Attack a demon stronghold? Child’s play.

Putting himself under her scrutiny to risk certain rejection? Grueling.

He’d somehow held himself still as she’d leisurely inspected every inch of him. For some reason, he didn’t think she was repulsed by the sight of him. God in heaven, maybe even the opposite. When her eyes had flickered, he’d grown hard under her gaze.

Nothing to lose, Dekko. If this didn’t work, then at least he’d be freed from one of his vows to the vampire.

Her slim shoulders tensed as he eased up behind her. Heedless, he reached forward and pulled her hair off her nape. About to kiss the smooth skin above her torque, he leaned in—

She threw an elbow back, catching him in the mouth. “Don’t you dare!”

As he’d hoped, that one hit wasn’t enough, was only the shot that set off an avalanche. She whirled around, fist drawn back to pound his cheek.

He shook it off, swinging around to kiss her neck.

“Stop that!” She punched his mouth again. He pressed his newly bleeding lip to the other side of her neck.

“What is wrong with you?” Another hit to his face left his jaw singing.

But he merely rubbed his chin over the tip of her pointed ear. Every time she struck, he responded with a kiss or touch. “Is that supposed to hurt, Valkyrie? You hit like a wee girl.”

“A wee girl!” she screamed, punching his kidney over and over, backing him toward the shore.

Never had he been so happy to take a beating. Of course, she wasn’t at full Valkyrie strength, and he was lingering on the very cusp of berserkrage.

When he tripped backward onto land, she leapt atop him, straddling his waist as she drilled his face like a punching bag.

Instead of deflecting her hits, he grasped her perfect breasts, groaning from the weight of them in his hands. Soft, damp flesh against his palms. Her nipples were tight points. … With a groan, he rocked his hips up beneath her.

She knocked his hands away; he let her.

“You keep ticklin’ me like this, Valkyrie, and I’ll think you want me to tickle back.” Was she even aware they were both naked and she was straddling him? He could feel the heat of her quim against him, slick warmth in the cool air. “I can do this all night, lass.”

“You prick!” she yelled between breaths, hammering his sternum. “Maybe I can’t land a painful punch because of all the drugs in your system!”

His gaze bored into hers. “Never will touch them again,” he told her, and he meant it.

“Or maybe you don’t feel my hits because of all that ugly scar tissue buffering you!” She dragged her claws over the marks.

Shame filled him. Anger ignited. She’ll never see past them. Just as he’d known.

Then his eyes narrowed with realization. “I might be ugly, Regin, but something’s got your claws curlin’.” She’d seen him completely undressed, and she was still getting aroused. Wanting to roar with triumph, he grew more aggressive, leaning up to brush his lips over one stiff nipple.

After a heartbeat’s hesitation, she backhanded him away.

“Slower to defend on that one, no, lass?” He pinned her arms to her sides so he could nuzzle her other nipple. Though she resisted, he took it between his lips, tasting that bud, tonguing it … With a hoarse groan, he began to suckle, his eyes rolling back in his head.

Had she moaned? His cock pulsed painfully.

In a siren’s voice, she said, “Chase, let me go. So I can touch you.”

Yes! Without releasing his suck on her nipple, he slid his hands down to rest on her hips.

“You want my touch, Blademan?” She reached back, raking those claws up his thighs, leaving bloody furrows. “That’s all you’ll get from me—pain!”

He sucked her harder, till her nipple throbbed to the tip of his tongue. Pain? He felt none.

Gods, Chase’s mouth was so hot on her breast, his lips closed tight around the peak.

He was thrumming, the muscles of his torso flexing sensuously beneath her. She’d never truly comprehended how big Chase’s body was next to hers. So like Aidan.

Yet so different. A Celt with a wicked tongue and a gravelly voice.

His kiss tempted her; but for right now, it felt better to smack him around. She shoved him back, slapping him across the face.

“That’s it, Regin, do what you need to.”

“Oh, I will.” The last three weeks had been like a pressure cooker, and now she was about to explode. Every hit made a knot inside her unfurl. He wasn’t the only one who could feel rage—and seeing the blood she’d drawn all over his body made it ebb.

One of his eyes was swollen. His lip was busted. The skin over his broad cheek was split. His legs were bleeding.

And still he was hard as rock.

He took her hips and settled her lower on his torso, pressing her to his erection. “I want you so much. It’s like a fever in me.”

She knocked his hands away. “Why would I ever want you back? You think I’m just going to forget all you’ve done to me?”

“No, no’ forget. But I can salvage this thing between us. I’m ready to do whatever needs to be done.”

“Salvage, huh? See, I’ve been remembering more from last night. You suffocated me.” She boxed his other ear. “Was it hard to do?”

His face went cold, evincing that cruelness she’d hoped never to see again. “Just pressed down till you went limp. What’s hard about that?”

“Ugh!” She backhanded him again.

“Of course it was bloody hard,” he roared, the tendons in his neck straining. “One of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Brandr was about to puncture your goddamned heart. Happened anyway.”

“Your hands were steady enough when you were cutting off my air!” Another resounding slap.

“Because they fuckin’ needed to be! Damn you, woman, you died! And there was … nothing I could do.” His voice was thick.

Was Chase feeling an emotion other than hate? Dim memories arose. Her face damp with tears? Chase murmuring in her ear to hold on for him?

She narrowed her gaze. “Did the big bad Blademan lose control of his emotions last night?” Slap. “Did seeing me like that compwetely bwake your wittle heart?” Backhand. “Did you cry man tears?”

He flipped her to her back, rising above her. “Cried over you like a wee babe.” He pinned her hands over her head. “I can feel, Regin. And it killed me to see you like that!” His eyes began to glow. “Which really pissed me off, Valkyrie. Because any last hope that I could live without you vanished.”

Declan wedged his hips between her legs as the need to make her his burned within him. “It will always be you, Regin.” His free hand curled under her thigh to position his shaft.

“No, Chase!” She scrambled back from him, fighting his hold on her wrists. “Never!” She’d begun panting, breasts rising and falling, her nipples swollen. “You can’t do this. No sex!”

“Does this mean you’re feelin’ something for me, Valkyrie? Maybe you want me to live now?” He leaned down to kiss her, but she yanked her head to the side.

“Do not kiss me,” she hissed, her eyes flashing.

“No kissing of any kind, then?” As she tussled against him, he moved her bodily to a nearby bed of grass.

“What are you doing?” she snapped.

He captured her wrists in front of her, then knelt between her legs. “I just want a taste of you, Regin. I’ve dreamed of doing this to you.”

“Forget it!” She tightened her knees.

He maneuvered his shoulders to work her thighs wider, then dipped his head to her blond curls. “One kiss, and I’ll stop.”

“Chase, damn you—”

He pressed his mouth to her quim and gave a lick, silencing her and shocking him. “Ah, fuck me!” She was delicious, her sex quivering and wet. He’d planned to ask her if she wanted him to stop. Impossible. He set back in, his tongue delving for more.

She moaned and lightning struck overhead. His permission.

He released her wrists, and her hands flew to his head, not to shove him away, but to thread her fingers through his hair—the first time she’d touched him without anger.

More. He breathed her in.

“That’s it, Regin. Let me do this to you.” When she undulated to his mouth, his cock pulsed even harder, moisture beading the head.

With each roll of her hips, he rocked his own, spreading his knees wider. He thrust against air, imagining his shaft was buried deep where his tongue plunged.

Heaven was pleasuring her with her lightning overhead to let him know he was doing it right. With each kiss, her skin glowed brighter, and something like … like joy swept over him. I can satisfy her. In time, he could fix this between them.

“You’re delicious.” Between licks, he groaned, “Hot … wet … heaven.”

At his words, she gave a strangled cry, and her legs fell open in total surrender. In invitation. He traced her glistening core with the pad of one finger.

“Inside,” she moaned. When he eagerly slipped it into her tight sheath, her head thrashed. “Don’t stop that, just don’t stop. …”

“You need these fillin’ you, don’t you, lass?” With a hungry flick of his tongue, he wedged another finger inside. “I’ll get them nice and deep.”

“Chase, I’m close!”

“Regin, come for me!” He bore down on her with his mouth, his fingers thrusting in time. “That’s it, baby.”

Her back bowed. A bolt of her lightning struck so close he felt the heat of it. “Chase!” she screamed as she began to orgasm.

When she clamped his head to draw him closer, he almost spilled on the ground. As he licked in bliss, his spine tingled, his heavy ballocks tightening. He commanded himself not to come as he wrung every shiver from her, every last cry.

He broke away only when she pushed against his forehead. When he rasped his stubbled cheeks against her thighs, she trembled anew.

For long moments, she stared up at the sky. Then she propped herself up on her elbows, meeting his gaze, her expression utterly inscrutable.

“Regin? Say something. I do no’ like it when you’re quiet.”

Chase had pulled a fast one on her. Zing! This had all been a carefully crafted and executed plan. Get the volatile Valkyrie so pissed, she loses control.

And according to plan, she was now naked, on a bed of grass, with Declan Chase between her thighs.

The playah got played. She’d been … predictable. Everything had burned out of control.

And was threatening to again. When his gaze dropped from her face back between her legs and he tightened his arms around her thighs, she said, “Don’t even think about it.”

With a darkening expression, he rose up on his knees, looking as if she’d just taken away his new favorite toy. His body was taut as a bowstring, his muscles rippling, his shaft jutting with need.

“What the hell, Chase? What was this?” He’d used her own personality against her, and she’d fallen right into his trap. She should throw him a curveball. She should tease him, get him within a heartbeat of coming, then strut off, leaving him with a view of her sweet ass.

I’m going to femme fatale him! Like her sisters would. Oh, yeah, the playah’s back in the house—

“Should be obvious what this was, no? If you’re still confused, I can draw you a diagram.”

Her eyes went wide, her hand fisting in the mud beside her bed of grass.

“Hint: slot B is delicious—”

Splat. Without thought, she’d thrown mud all over his face. So much for femme fatale.

He sputtered in disbelief, then roared, “What the ever-livin’ feck—”

Splat, splat. Muck covered his torso. And gods help her, his reaction almost had her cackling.

“That’s how you want to play?” He snagged her ankle, dragging her closer to smear a handful of mud across her thighs. Though she scrambled to get away, he coated her belly with a generous swipe, then tossed a glob over her breasts.

“Dick!” She beaned one of his legs with another salvo, bringing the heat.

He released her to scoop up mounds of ammunition in both hands. In an ominous tone, he said, “Regin, there’re two ways we can do this—”

Splat. Tagged his other thigh. Which left only one place that she hadn’t hit. A big target.

He followed her gaze down. “Do no’ even think of it. You do it, and you’ll be cleanin’ me up.”

Splat.