Page 22 of Torn Between Two Worlds

Shoving his chest until he stumbled, she reached between them and took his pulsing shaft between her hands. Without a word, she claimed his lips with her own and ran the frosty cube down the length of him. His hiss into her mouth made her body pulse. She didn't think she would hold up much longer, didn't think he would either. Releasing his mouth, she kissed her way down his chest until her mouth followed a trail behind the ice cube.

His grunts had her picturing his shaft already buried deep inside of her. He must have had the same idea because he yanked her up to his mouth and was walking them backward to the table before she could react. Her body was placed across the top of the table, and he climbed over, holding his twitching length in his hand. Her body arched off the table as he drew his tip across her entrance.

She felt the head of him slip inside and cried out, “ Stryder!”

Her hips bucked up, wanting to take him deep, needing it. He bent forward and captured her lips with his again before he slammed balls deep into her body.

She felt the stretch of taking him in and purred. Ciara's legs wrapped around his waist. In and out, he stroked, her body clenching and throbbing. Scouring the nails on one hand down his back, she bit his lower lip. He pounded into her and held nothing back. Her body jolted up and off the table as she met every wild thrust of his hips with her own. She could feel herself slipping closer and closer to the edge, and she wanted it. Waves of pleasure built within her and rolled close to the breaking point, his cock all she could feel, and all she could concentrate on was the heat of him pounding into her, over and over again.

Her channel began to squeeze his shaft, and his mouth came down upon hers, cutting off the scream that tore through her throat so loudly, she thought she would be hoarse. White light slammed across her vision as an orgasm almost as powerful as the first he’d given her slammed through her body, vibrating through her and making her pussy milk his cock as he continued to thrust inside of her.

His tongue fought for control inside her mouth as his thrusts sped up. The roughness sent her over the edge again. His own release tore through him as she felt him pulsing inside her. His arms bent a little and his chest, sweaty and breathing deep pressed against her own.

“Gods.”

His eyes glowed as he looked down at her. His hips began to pump again, and she thought she might die.

“Not enough. My mate, mine to claim.”

She registered the words as he lifted her up and carefully walked them into the bedroom and took her again. But she didn't question him. Not then.

12

His face wasa scowl as he fired all ten rounds into the target. “Gods be damned, fucking demon!”

His face contorted with the rage, and he tossed the gun to the chair, grabbing the next one that was loaded and waiting. Emptying it as well, he threw it to the ground. Fighting the demon had been enough. But what the fuck was Ciara Miller? Word Speaker supposedly, but then who left out the part about the bitch having magic? His neck had been stitched, but he felt like a stretched rubber band, and he cursed again.

There had been a lot of shit in his life that had sent him spiraling to the shooting range. A ton of stupid ass fucking events that had set his temper flaring. But nothing did it better than being the reason he got his men killed. Killing an enemy or a useless ally? No big deal. That was the name of the game. But to have strong, loyal soldiers taken down because he'd been mind fucked—he grabbed the assault rifle and unleashed the rain of bullets into the target’s head—well that wasn't fucking okay.

He'd been smug. Why would a demon succeed? They were pathetic creatures, predominantly only interested in fornicating and killing. So taking his two best snipers had seemed like a pretty straightforward plan. In fact, so straight forward he'd only ordered them to shoot her in the leg, twice. If she was so powerful, he was going to talk to her first. Fuck what Leather Jacket wanted.

But it hadn't gone that way.

Reloading the gun, he closed his eyes and just squeezed. He didn't really care if he hit the target. It was a piece of paper for crying out loud. No, being in there was just about the power. Nothing took an edge off like blowing something to bits, and since he couldn't do it to all the demons they’d captured, he went in there.

Leather Jacket had set him and his men up to fail. First, the fuck had lied that it wasn't just a demon they were up against, but a Horseman's Second. Then, he’d left out the little detail that apparently Ciara wasn't human. He still wouldn't kill her for it, but he sure as hell needed to know what she was. That burst that shot from her had been pure flames. Just ask the pile of ash that was his man because the bitch hadn't extinguished it, just let it burn.

His frustration was growing with each thought, and it wasn't helping one bit. He needed sex. A nice, fast fuck against the wall in his office. His mind was already picking which of the useless office women he would pick when he heard a voice in the shooting area with him.

“Um, sir?”

He swung around and saw his weasely assistant standing there. Germaine was good for absolutely nothing in the field, but when it came to office work and research, the college co-ed was perfect. Plus, he didn't know the real agenda of the organization and helped organize thousands of things that he most likely would have disapproved of. Ridiculously Christian, he'd believe their agenda was about nothing more than weeding the demon spawn from the Earth.

“What?” His growl pierced the air.

Germaine blanched and backed up a step.

Good.Fucking pathetic underling should know when and when not to be afraid.

“A man is waiting in your office. Told me to tell you that you only had a few minutes before he came to find you.”

He nodded, and Germaine turned to leave, and then turned back.

“Sir, if I may interject, something isn't right about him. May I advise backup to guard your door?”

Cursing, he realized Leather Jacket must have somehow known they'd failed again. How hard was it to kill one human? They killed demons all the damned time. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he pulled the safety goggles off his face and threw them on the floor next to the last gun. “No, don't do that. You'll only anger the man, and he's a business partner none of us can afford to piss off. Not now at least.”

Walking to his office, he was contemplating all the questions he wanted answers for. As his father used to say,“Thing's aren't smelling so good in Dixie.”He'd hated the dumb expression, but it was fitting. Despite his telling Germaine to call off the guards, it looked as if the idiot had left a few standing. Fine, but the deaths weren't on his hands if the man was pissed about failing a second time in a row.

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