Dead End Page 6

  Lyrian, please.

  I needed him to touch me for real. I needed the weight of him, but shit, he was picking up the tempo, circling and sucking. His fingers were inside me, and oh, God, the overload of sensation had me writhing and arching, and then with a growl, he was on the bed, hands tearing at my clothes, mouth sucking on my flesh everywhere it was exposed. I buried my fingers in his silken hair and hauled him up so his mouth was pressed to mine and finally kissed him the way I’d been wanting to for so long, tongue-sucking, roof-licking, teeth-clashing, open-mouthed kisses that were desperate to be more. His skin met mine, sending frissons of low-level shocks racing across my body.

  “Lyrian, please.”

  I didn’t want foreplay. I needed him inside me. I needed that connection. I needed it now.

  LYRIAN

  She’s perfection, everything I ever dreamed of, satin and silk beneath my fingers, peaches on my tongue, but I’ve held back for so long that I don’t know if I can wait to be inside her. My cock throbs, and my balls ache, crying out for relief. She’s wet and warm and ready for me as I rub the head of my cock over her clit.

  “Lyrian, please.” Her eyes are heavy, her lips swollen from my kisses. “I need you inside me.”

  Fucking hell. I’ve needed to hear those words ever since I clapped eyes on her, even though I knew Micha had staked his claim. I wanted her even before the scalemate bond. I wanted her, and now she’s mine.

  I push her thighs wider, my fingers biting into her flesh as I thrust into her. Fuck, she’s like a glove. A wet, warm glove made just for me. I grit my teeth because I’m close, so fucking close to coming. I need her to come first. Her eyes are locked on me as I lean in and drape her legs over my shoulders.

  She pushes her hips up to meet my groin, and my balls are flush up against her. I close my eyes, reveling in the sensation, and then I pull out all the way, tip hovering at her entrance. She makes a sound, part protest, part need. And then I plunge into her again, biting back a growl as her body bucks and her cry caresses my senses. I do it again and again, hitting the ridge inside her that drives her wild. I lose myself in sensation, in the bounce of her luscious breasts, in the taste of her rosy nipples, and the gasps and pants and slap of our flesh as we finally consummate what’s been simmering between us.

  Her body tenses as she comes with a low keening cry, and then she is milking me, shattering my control as my balls tighten, then release with a heady rush that has me crying out with her.

  I couldn’t stop touching him, and my lips were swollen and roughed up from his kisses, so many kisses. But we had to stop, we had to pull on our clothes and come back to the reality of our situation. We were hiding in a basement to get away from killer drones.

  I finished strapping on my belt and clipped the radio to it. Lyrian tugged me into his arms, and my body was immediately hot for him. Oh, God. This was crazy. Now we’d finally taken the step it was as if we’d popped a lock on attraction. He was like a magnet, a hot, taut magnet that I needed to rub up against.

  I shook my head to clear it, and he chuckled low and sexy in his throat. “Maybe if we shut the door?”

  The door in our minds swung closed, and the overwhelming sensations were muted. I sagged against him with a laugh of my own.

  “Well, that was …”

  “Intense?”

  “Perfect.” I kissed his jaw, reveling in the scent of him.

  “The drones have gone,” he said.

  “Let’s go home.”

  Chapter 7

  Micha gathered me in a hug as I walked into the guardian quarters. “Thank fuck you’re okay.”

  He took a deep breath, inhaling me, and his arms tightened around me a fraction; when he pulled back, there was a small smile on his face. “I’m glad you sorted things out with Lyrian.”

  Damn him and his senses. I ducked my head. “Any news on location?”

  “Yes. Mother got back to us a little while ago. There is an abandoned hydropower plant on the north coast. It’s several miles out of their usual search perimeter, but she says they have checked it out before and found nothing.”

  “We need to check it again,” Lyrian said.

  “But we go prepared.” I looked from Micha to Emory, then to Lyrian. “We need to go in with a way to shut him down.”

  “I have an idea for that,” Emory replied. “Genesis is a super brain made of orgometal. If I can get a sample of that metal, I can work out a way to corrupt it. The ideal solution would be to build an arcana explosive that can burrow into the brain and then detonate.”

  Clever. “An arcana crystal bomb?”

  Emory’s eyes lit up. “Yes. But we need some orgometal.”

  Lyrian was rubbing his chin in thought. “Micha, do you remember that story Mum told us about the warded government lab she once infiltrated?”

  Micha nodded. “Yeah. But it’s warded to be undetectable, and we haven’t been able to locate it since all the Arcana were killed in the war.” His eyes widened, and then his gaze slid my way. “But now we have Echo and her uncanny ability with arcana.”

  “Micha, you call Mum and find out the general location,” Lyrian said.

  Micha gave a jaunty salute and then dropped a kiss on my cheek. “See you in a bit.”

  He headed for the tower.

  I turned to Emory. “What’s the latest on the council? Did Bane and Deacon manage to stop Greta?”

  “They did, but she’s now demanding a vote for chairperson,” Emory said. “She’s pretty popular with the council, but so are my dads. Still, it could swing either way. Especially since she’s using the line that we need a chairperson with a clear mind, not one clouded by grief.”

  “Bitch.”

  “Indeed.” Sadness dulled Emory’s expression. “My dads are stalling her.”

  Then we needed to take advantage of that. “We need to use that time. We keep the location to ourselves, and we head out and find the orgometal. Once we have it, we can present it as a fait accompli. After all, we had a deal.”

  Lyrian made a sound of agreement.

  Once we had the orgometal and Emory had created the explosive, the humans would be told the truth. It was what had been agreed. No more lies, no more secrets.

  Micha returned a moment later. “Mother said she’ll meet us at the bridge in Arcana tomorrow at midday to show us the way.”

  Emory’s shoulders rose and fell. “I need to run some tests in the lab. I’ll see you later.” He paused to lean in and brush a kiss across my forehead as he passed.

  My cheeks warmed.

  Micha arched a brow and smiled.

  I smacked his arm. “Shut up.”

  Verona walked in. “Oh, thank God, you’re all right.” She rushed toward me and enveloped me in a tight hug.

  “Bry?”

  “When you didn’t come back with the others, I thought it best to let him stay in class for a bit longer. I didn’t want him to know what had happened and worry.”

  Good call. “Thank you.”

  She brushed at my hair with her fingers. “You have dust in your hair, sweetie. Why don’t you go shower quickly? I’ll head back to the school and wait for Bry to finish.”

  She’d come back for an update on me. I pulled her in for another hug. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.” She patted my back and then sneezed. “Shower, now.”

  Verona was gone by the time I’d showered, but Micha and Lyrian were still in the lounge.

  “We should eat,” Lyrian said as I entered the room. “What would you like?”

  Even though it was obvious that this was less about food and more about keeping busy, I couldn’t help but point out their obsession with meal times. “You and Deacon, always about the food.”

  “You need to keep your strength up,” Micha and Lyrian said at the same time.

  “Fine, but I’m cooking.”

  Micha made a face and then caught himself.

  Wait a minute. “Do you not like my cooking?”
>
  Lyrian cleared his throat. “You have so many other skills.”

  Oh, my God. “You hate my cooking. Is that why everyone has been feeding me? I make one stew, and you judge me on it?”

  Micha shook his head. “It was one hell of a judgment stew.”

  I threw up my hands. “Fine. You cook. I’m going to go find Deacon and fill him in on the developments.”

  “He’s in his chambers,” Micha said.

  I faltered at the door as it hit me that I had no idea where Deacon laid his head at night. I glanced over my shoulder to see Micha’s knowing smile.

  “Third floor, second door on the right.”

  “Thank you.”

  I left them discussing what to cook and headed for the main council building.

  There was no answer to my knock, but the door wasn’t locked, and before I could stop myself, I’d entered Deacon’s room. It smelled sweet like him, and my stomach did a little flutter and a flip.

  We hadn’t spoken alone since he’d pissed me off over Hunter. Was he mad at me for being so harsh about Marika? He’d loved her, and I’d straight up called her a bitch. I needed to watch my mouth when I was mad.

  The sound of running water drifted through the ajar bathroom door. His five-minute shower, no doubt.

  Shower.

  Naked.

  Oh, God. I needed to leave.

  I walked quickly toward the door, intent on making a run for it.

  “Echo?”

  Shit.

  Please, let him be dressed. I turned around to face him and sucked in a breath at the sight of his naked torso. Thank God, the bottom half was wrapped in a low-slung towel, but double damn, the rest … the long hair spilling over his shoulders like wet sand and the droplets of moisture skating down his chest and abs to lick at the towel that barely clung to his Adonis belt … that was the stuff of wet dreams.

  I needed to roll my tongue back into my mouth and wipe the damn drool off my face.

  “I can smell your arousal,” Deacon said tightly.

  My gaze snapped to his face.

  He closed his eyes and breathed in and out slowly. “And I’m hungry. Not a good combination.”

  Oh, crap. His vein was dead. She’d died trying to kill me. “Deacon, how long since you’ve fed?”

  “A couple of weeks.”

  Shit. “You need to feed.”

  He gave me a flat look. “I know that, Echo. I’m in the process of finding myself a new vein.”

  A new vein, another woman he could feed and fuck? My gut twisted at the thought. “No.” The word just popped out, startling even me.

  He canted his head. “No?”

  I licked my lips, suddenly nervous, because yep, I was going to do this. “I want you to feed off me.”

  His nostrils flared, and his aqua eyes flooded with darkness. “You don’t know what you’re offering, Echo. You don’t understand how intense the feeding can be, how lines can get blurred and—”

  “I get it. You feed, and you fuck.”

  He snapped his mouth closed with a low moan.

  I took a couple of steps toward him. I’d been tiptoeing around us for a while now, but I was done being coy and waiting. I wanted Deacon. “Feed on me, Deacon. Fuck me.”

  Bold words that came easy but left a sting of heat on my cheeks, part embarrassment and part arousal.

  His features sharpened, and the outer edge of his irises bled to crimson. When he spoke next, his voice was thick, and there was a definite flash of fang.

  “I’m hungry, Echo, and I might not be as gentle as I’d like.”

  I took another step toward him, aware of the pulse in his jaw and the corresponding one at the apex of my thighs. I stopped a couple of feet away and slowly tugged off my T-shirt.

  He sucked in a breath. “Fuck.”

  “I love it when you curse.”

  He bridged the gap between us by taking an achingly slow step, but he didn’t touch me. He was giving me the chance to back down, to change my mind. I reached out and placed my hand on his alabaster chest. He held his breath as I slid it down over his abs, down to the tent in his towel. I rubbed the hardness with the flat of my palm, and he threw his head back and groaned.

  “Fucking hell, Echo.”

  “Bite me, Deacon.”

  His control snapped, and I was hauled up against his chest. He stared down at me, his breath coming hard, his eyes bright and ringed in crimson.

  “Last chance,” he warned.

  I tilted my head to the side, presenting my neck, heart pounding in anticipation and delicious fear.

  His chest rumbled, and a growl erupted from his lips, and then pain pierced my neck. My yelp was cut off by a sharp tugging sensation, and then liquid heat flooded my system, trickling through my veins and sliding over my intimate place like hungry, questing fingers.

  Oh, God. “Deacon.” I gripped the back of his head, getting closer, giving him more, wanting him to take more as euphoria swelled in my chest. We were moving, backing up toward the bed, and then I was falling, wrapped in his arms. He pulled my hands from his hair and pinned them above my head, his mouth still at my vein. Every tug went straight to my core, every tug made me wetter.

  “Deacon. Oh, God.”

  He grasped my wrists together with one hand and reached between us to yank down my trousers. His grip was so tight it would probably bruise, but it didn’t matter, all that mattered was getting free of my clothes.

  I wriggled beneath him, lifting my hips to give him better access. He raised his body and removed the towel while I kicked my trousers off. His hips sank between my thighs, groin to groin, and the length and girth of him pushed against me through the fabric of my panties. I ground into him, needing more, needing him there.

  His fangs slid out of my neck, and he licked the wound once, twice, and then raised his head, bloody-mouthed and wild-eyed, to stare down at me. His chest heaved, and his pupils were so large I could see my stunned reflection in them. And then he kissed me, coppery and sweet and crazy, tongue on tongue. He yanked my panties to the side and thrust into me. Fuck, he was thick, stretching me wide. He swallowed my cry, ramming deep, pulling out and then ramming deep again, forcing my body to adjust to the girth of him. Pain and pleasure mingled to create a new sensation, teasing new zones, and the sounds that climbed up my throat were pure primal. The plunge of his cock matched the thrusts of his tongue. I latched on to that tongue and sucked on it, eliciting a moan from him which I eagerly swallowed. He broke the kiss to rise above me. Still holding my hands captive, he looked down on me, his eyes wild as he kept up a tempo. I looked down between us to where we were joined, to where his hips moved like liquid silk in a rhythm that was building to a crescendo. He was beautiful, we were beautiful, undulating together in the perfect symphony. His grunts and growls complemented my gasps and moans, and there was the cold heat, the delicious icy tickle, and the head-pounding rush of blood that signaled a climax. I crested the wave, calling out his name, but it hit me again and again, stealing my breath and darkening my vision. Deacon’s grip on me faltered, and then he was pressed to my chest, his head buried in my neck, groaning loud in my ear as he pumped through his orgasm. I dug my nails into his arse, urging him on, wanting one more crest, one more wave, and then a sob was breaking on my lips as we hit the pinnacle. He slammed into me and rolled his hips with a guttural cry and then collapsed on top of me. We lay together, panting, as our hearts continued to gallop together.

  I turned my head to brush my cheek against his head. “That was it. I’m dead. You just fucked me to death.”

  His body began to shake.

  “Deacon? Shit. Deacon, are you okay?”

  He raised his head, still shaking. Wait, he was laughing? I was seeing him laugh, hearing him laugh for the first time, and it was beautiful.

  I kissed his bloody smiling mouth. “You should laugh more often.”

  He sobered. “I have a feeling that can be arranged.”

  Deacon fastened his pa
nts and brushed back a tendril of his hair. His face was clean now, and he was back to his usual composed self. But my body was still recovering from the sex and the endorphins. How could he be so … okay?

  He chose that moment to look my way, and I noted the flush to his cheek and the gleam in his eye. He strode over to me, cupped my face, and pressed his lips to mine in a tender kiss. He broke the kiss and pulled back to brush his nose against mine and sighed.

  “I can’t go back,” he said. “You do realize that, don’t you?”

  I fisted his shirt. “Neither can I.”

  “I’m sorry about before. The things Hunter said, they were so contrary to the woman I knew.”

  “He wasn’t lying.”

  “I know. I have to learn to accept there are things about Marika that I may not have known.” He stroked my cheek once more, then pulled away slightly. “Now, tell me what you came to tell me?”

  While he brushed out his hair and tied it in a knot, I told him what we’d discovered and what we planned to do about it.

  “I’m coming with you,” he said in a tone that brooked no argument.

  I nodded. “I’d like that.”

  My stomach chose that moment to grumble.

  Deacon frowned. “You need food.”

  “Lyrian and Micha are on it. You coming?” I held out my hand.

  He looked down at it for a long beat and then reached out and threaded his fingers through mine. His lips quirked in a half smile. “It’s been a while since I’ve held a woman’s hand just for the pleasure of it.”

  “Well, get used to it. I’m a snuggler.”

  Chapter 8

  Finn was waiting for me in the guardian chamber when Deacon and I got there. I hadn’t seen him since the attack. He’d been busy dealing with the pack disruption and trying to form a new order after his father had ripped the old one to shreds. One alpha was dead and another incarcerated. The packs had a lot of talking to do, but he had sent me a letter expressing his sorrow at the loss of Gem. I’d have responded in kind with reference to his father, but that bastard was the reason my sister was dead.