Her Lycan Lover Page 8

  “Believe it or not, I’m acquainted with the existence of sacred casters. I doubt I’d mistake your devotion for some form of paganism. It’s been centuries, but I knew a few during the time of ancient Rome and Greece, on both sides. And yes, completely different.”

  “Did you hit your head last night, Quinn?” Ancient Greece and Rome? He couldn’t be. She studied him. Never had she actually met one. “You aren’t really saying you’re a Cairo. A Midnight Lycan?”

  He pseudo bowed. “At your service, doll.”

  Casters avoided sensual temptation. A Midnight Lycanthrope existed in one state: strong as maraging steel and proficient in all erotic arts. An immortal. If that were true, he would be irresistible to a caster after one kiss. My God, what had I done?

  “You could have warned me,” she whispered.

  “Would you have listened?”

  “This isn’t wholly about you.” She wished, facing the Quinn-tessence of carnal cravings. Her luck. Midnight Lycans were all about seduction and in the world of decadent desire, Quinn was at the top of the food chain.

  “What was I going to say? The idea of us was inconceivable to me.”

  So tantalizing, she shivered at the mere contemplation of his prowess, and then gasped. “All this time hardly constitutes a hazard sign. Not a word. Does Shawn know?”

  “It would be damn hard to hide from another shifter.”

  “Is that why you hang here at night?” For a heartbeat, she honestly tossed back and forth the possibilities.

  “No. And I thought you were so damn proficient in nailing the truth.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “About me. My kind. We’re not exactly looking for a good time. And what I do here at night may have something to do with you.”

  “You’re being obtuse. Look, I might as well lay it all out there. We both know there’s a symbiotic relationship possible between… men and women such as us.”

  “For a very few.” Quinn searched her face. The heat from his eyes transfixing her. “Extremely rare.”

  His voice echoed inside her. He was the embodiment of dark desire, the Midnight whispering within her bloodstream, taking hold of her, sinking into the marrow of her bones.

  She had to fight this feverish craving to let go and let Quinn in. She swallowed. “That’s true. So rare, what we feel must be nothing more than lust. I don’t know of anyone. More like a myth. A fairy tale.” She didn’t want to give into this unstoppable instinct to make love to him.

  He spoke the truth. She’d grown up in the midst of women and girls. Heard stories, myths until this very moment, and never thought that she’d meet her own Cairo. Her own taste of seduction. Or destruction.

  “We shouldn’t play with fire,” she said, her voice unsteady.

  “That’s the problem, doll. I’m. Not. Playing.”

  Midnight Lycan. One day. The shifter charged with her protection. Her guide. Soul mate had been a term whispered, giggled, and had been a girlhood fantasy.

  “Quinn, let this drop. It’s a mere coincidence we work here. That doesn’t mean a thing. I belong to the Sisterhood of casters. A worldwide guild that goes beyond simple incantations or the glorification of the Horned God. We’re an organized council that now even offers health insurance for full-time casters. When I get to the fifth level there are perks, vacation time, and an annual all-expense paid conference in Hawaii no less.”

  “Really. And how’s that working out for you? So far. Keeping you out of trouble. Safe and sound. What does the Sisterhood offer exactly in so far your safekeeping? What do they get and give?”

  “I can’t tell you all that. There were secret ceremonies, tithes to keep track of and pay, and sacrifices undertaken. Spellcasters are recruited for their ability to maintain an agreed upon equilibrium for the world, evoking lasting cause and effect reactions to preserve order between the forces. Whether deemed good or evil, light or dark, depends upon which side of the proverbial fence one sits on. The Sisterhood isn’t some club or hobby. We watch out for each other and there are rules. Something you don’t seem to care about or abide by.”

  This probably made no sense to him. The purpose of the Sisterhood Council of conjurers was to maintain order for nature, a type of balance as it presided on Earth. This is where the Sisterhood had been delivered at the creation of humanity. This was their realm to protect. They served the Goddess of the Elements, and the God of Energy in human form. Spellcaster names were sacred and unspoken outside the sacred shaped structures. So sacred Sherry and her sisters kept their names from their thoughts.

  She couldn’t tell Quinn everything. Each and every season, she went away to take care of her conjurer requirements and relished spending time with other sisters in the spiritual devotion celebrating nature, the god and goddess of the Earth along with otherworldly forces. She had hoped to move up to a level four by the winter solstice. Would he think that she’d made a grave mistake? Not once, but twice. He already could hardly believe she was a spellcaster. If she told him she botched up her post, he’d probably roll his eyes. And what happened today might be a beacon the Sisterhood would notice. Coupled with yesterday, she was certain she’d hear from the High Priestess. If not tonight, then soon.

  She might as well begin plans for her own damage control. Last night it had taken hours to repair the shield and still the patch was faulty. One small incantation to turn back time resulted in several tears and she’d barely gotten any sleep. Tonight, after work, she’d return to the elevator shaft and figure out how bad a situation existed. During the day, it was too risky; even in the old condemned building, there were still people milling around outside. At night, rarely did she come across anyone.

  Quinn’s scowl sounded in his voice. “Fine. We can agree to disagree on lots. You and me… our coming together isn’t haphazard. It never is between casters and Lycan. I’m rare. You’re rare. And us together, that’s beyond rare. We both know spellcasters and Lycan go back a long way and only come together for one purpose. Those bonds are magnetic when they occur.”

  “But they haven’t as far as we are concerned. So can we circle back to the here and now? I need to know you’re not going to share what just happened.”

  “I don’t kiss and tell,” he retorted. “Besides, who says we’re through?”

  “I think you’re over the top reaction spoke volumes. The first time I let my guard down and look what happened. Maybe you’re not up to my league.” She crossed back from the side of the room, intending on showing him, she wasn’t afraid of his Lycan charm.

  “Oh so you do a bait and switch and that’s it. One shot? I can track with the best of them.” He closed the distance between them, powerfully leaping and taking hold of her arms. Supposedly Lycans were all strength, grace, and agility. He proved the myths she’d heard were true on that account. Only her instincts perceived something within Quinn that ran counter to the Lycan’s strength and toughness. She couldn’t put her finger on the quality of melancholy he kept locked away.

  She noticed Quinn’s nostrils flare and pulse. “I don’t have time to play games.”

  “This isn’t exactly chitchat over drinks. Each time I take a step closer, something happens. You’re teasing the wolf in me. Better watch out.” The exuberance in his voice sent a swarm of tingles racing up her spine. Or it could be his hands had slid lower.

  “What are you doing?” The smug look on his face confirmed those were his fingers that had traced feather light over her bottom.

  “I think I could take you on. Smoke and mirrors and all. Admit it, you’re turned on… by me.”

  Was he challenging her? She rubbed her palms along his chest. “I’m not so certain after you nearly jumped out of your skin a moment ago, love.” He’d already admitted the wolf sensed a female presence. All she had to do was press her advantage. Men indulged in fantasy.

  He pressed her backward until she stood at the corner of her desk, against the edge. Quinn sm
elled intoxicating. Pressed to the desk, she dropped her hands and ran her finger over the smooth wood. That was a mistake. Her attention diverted and she’d not kept herself alert.

  Quinn wrapped his arms around her waist, a titanium grasp, his wolf eyes flickered above her. Again, he’d demonstrated his agility. Without her blade, she was powerless to defend herself.

  “Think again,” he murmured before his mouth crashed down upon hers, and without a moment to balk, she did what came natural: she moaned and opened her lips.

  His silky tongue thrust into her mouth, swiping and tangling hers in an erotic dance. She raised her hands, seeking purchase along his muscular arms. The feel of his body pressing against hers had her digging her fingers into his harder than steel arms, bands encircling her waist. He nibbled her lip with just the right pressure to elicit a whimper from deep inside her body. Without considering, she found her fingers moving up his shoulders as she pressed herself wantonly against him.

  “You smell so delicious.” His masculine, earthy cologne played upon her senses as he pressed his hard body again her. His mouth was forceful and commanding. His hands squeezed her bottom, hiking her hips against him, over his protruding erection.

  “This isn’t just about sex,” he murmured against her mouth.

  “It isn’t?” A moan slipped from swollen lips. “Would that be bad if I said it was?

  Quinn lifted his head, “Jesus, but you’re hotter than Hades.” He slid his hand upward from her waist, releasing bursts of electrical pleasure across her back. “What do you desire? I don’t want this to count against me.”

  “Neither do I.” She trembled in his arms. “I can’t fall into lust. It’s dangerous for someone like myself.”

  “I’d never harm you.” He shook her by the shoulders. “Do you understand?”

  “What man starts out wanting sex saying anything but that…”

  “I promise. No sex. One more taste of your lips. Kiss me and then I’ll go. I’ve got Court this morning.”

  “True to form a regular Lycan charmer.” She arched against him, giving into the overpowering need for him.

  He wasn’t asking her to help him win a case or use her powers for his benefit. One kiss.

  The irony of yanking open this door of uncontrolled desire by her own choice was that she ended right back where she’d started—in his arms. So much for teleporting across the room. The recent wormhole jaunt had left her in a tremulous state as though the particles in her body refused to coalesce properly. His exuded magnetism surrounded her, making escape unthinkable. Inside his intimate force field, a radiant warmth bathed her, soothing her senses, and she moaned from sheer pleasure.

  “Baby, you’re the one with the all the power.” He pressed his mouth to her neck and sucked.

  Sweet Jesus, she was about to explode. “Quinn,” she whispered, on the verge on abandoning all self-control.

  “Sherry, good thing I promised,” he groaned and pulled her closer against him. He kissed her, forcing her lips open, devouring her worries. It was tender torture, and she hungered for more. He assaulted her senses and she opened her mouth for him.

  Never had she experienced this type of searing hunger that filled her to the brink. His powerful arms pulled her up against him, grounded her in the moment, and physical space. It was all she could do to stand there, lip-locked, and not drag Quinn upstairs in order to quench her out of control craving to be sated from the inside out by this raw Lycan force.

  “Touch me. I need…something.” She unbuttoned her shirt, her skin tightening in anticipation, and all she could envision was his hot mouth scalding her flesh. She pulled the hem of her shirt free of her waistband and opened the front, fully exposing herself.

  “Sher, you’re stunning. This is beyond temptation and I don’t want to go back on my word.”

  “The heck with words. No one signed a binding agreement.”

  “Damn. You make being bad feel so good.” He moved his hands up her waist, pushing aside the satin of her bra. His hot breath caressed her bare skin. “Beautiful,” he whispered.

  Her whole body burst into flame, hotter when his hands covered her breasts and his thumbs rubbed up and down over her straining nipples. His pupils were fully dilated and a five o’clock shadow had reappeared over his jaw. The sinewy banded muscle under her fingers solidified. Incremental primal changes overtook in him and she found an overarching pool of lust expanding in her body. She licked her lips, digging her nails into his skin.

  “Please, Quinn. This is overpowering.”

  “It’s a force neither of us can resist. Christ, you’re a woman made for the bedroom. Those eyes of yours. I swear I could get lost in them. I can’t tell you how close I am to stripping you naked. If I hadn’t promised, doll, you’d be in trouble by now.”

  This was insane. She’d never, ever been driven to the point of losing it. “Stop talking. I need you. Right now.”

  “I love a woman who gives commands,” he laughed softly, his breath a whisper spreading across her skin. “But, no. I won’t take advantage of you. We need to discuss something. Sort out a few things. We need to sit down and talk… with our clothes on. This is new to me and you.” His pained expression short-circuited her lust. Momentarily.

  “No, no. No!” She shoved him—or tried to.

  Quinn did not budge. He reached for her, pulling her back and crushing her to him. Her chest heaved as she stared up at him. “Stop, love.”

  “No,” she said, her voice cracking. “You jump into bed with every woman who looks at you cross-eyed and you deny me. Force me to the point of begging. What type of gentleman do you pretend to be?”

  “I don’t. And you of all people know, I’ve never played that role until this moment.”

  “I’m not asking for much. Just something to take the edge off.”

  “Damn. Baby, you drive a hard bargain and I’ve a weakness for shifter club managers. One taste and that’s it.”

  She choked. “Agreed.”

  Slacking his grip on her, Quinn leaned down and trailed a series of kisses over her chest, drawing out her desire until she thought she’d scream. His breath on a journey, singeing her naked flesh.

  Quinn’s muscles bunched under her fingers, and the second his tongue licked across her nipple, a jolt hit her belly, spreading fire into the space between her legs. His full lips surrounded her peak, teasing the tip with his tongue, and she threaded her fingers deep within his hair. When he drew her aching nipple fully into his hot mouth and bit down onto her peak, she went weak with pleasure. With each of his sucks, her clit pulsed. The force of their contact unchained her hunger. So powerful, she opened her legs, craving release. He scraped his teeth over and around her erect nipple, moving from one breast to her other until she whimpered and thrashed against him.

  Quinn’s fingers dug into her skin. He lifted his head. “Sherry, I could take you right now. I’m so close.”

  She combed her fingers through his hair and pulled, wishing she could strip off her clothes and force the issue. “Me. Too.”

  “Fuck!” He recaptured the tip of her breast in his mouth and she yanked his hair, tugging his head as the pleasure delivered by his mouth mounted in her body.

  He pressed his erection into her belly, drawing her up and over his rigid hard-on. Her breasts tingled, the skin on fire where his lips, tongue, and teeth had connected with her flesh. She met his heated gaze, the glowing in his eyes hotter, and she longed to fall from this cliff into his bed.

  She groaned. “Dear God that feels incredible.”

  Quinn released his hold on her hips, lifted his hands upward and bracketed her face. He kissed her, devouring her lips, slicing his tongue into her mouth in a preview of what he intended to do to her should she ever open her thighs for him. He fisted her hair and pulled. Hard.

  “Ouch,” she yelped. “A bit forceful.”

  With a surging intensity gleaming in eyes, he stared down at her. �
�Sometimes I forget my own strength.”

  In his dreams, which spanned a millennium, Sherry had gone from crimson-colored hair to tresses that shone blue black, darker than the blackest black, absorbing the complete spectrum. Some sort of blackbody that swallowed light. Or energy. Did that fantasy matter? He seesawed between wanting to focus on the woman before him, and wondering how this morning linked back to the woman of his dreams. He breathed in the scent of her still lingering on his clothing and the flavor of her kisses on his lips.

  He regarded her across from him. Not near enough for him to reach out and run his hands over her body. Couldn’t even if he’d wanted. He’d promised. Now, all he had was a memory of when the texture of her skin had him at the edge, ready to burst apart.

  Seconds ago he’d sucked upon her awe inspiring tits. He clenched his jaw, unable to break his contemplation of the silky texture he’d tasted, until the last button was secured on Sherry’s blouse.

  “That’s it?” Sherry asked. “One kiss, and then it’s off. Business as usual. I’m so confused. That wormhole stinks if this is the place I’ve landed.”

  “I’m not a total wanker. And this could be a test you’re employing. A week is what you set. And a week is what you’ll get.”

  Her eyes widened and flashed a look of pure disbelief at him. “That was before I knew. Why kiss me just to torture me? You’re the one with the overabundance of mojo.”

  “Then you also realize for me to take advantage of your innate preference would make me the lowest form of toe rag. Believe it or not, but Lycans have standards as well.” He straightened his tie as she smoothed her slender fingers through her hair.

  His gaze fell to the swaying motion of her hips when she turned and walked away. He wanted to kick himself for putting her on some pedestal. Any other female, he’d have fucked her twice by now and not thought about his actions on the way out.