Page 69 of Edge of Oblivion (Night Prowler 2)
“Xander.” She wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his shoulders. She looked up into his eyes and took him deep with a feminine, fluid motion of her pelvis. “Don’t stop
. ”
She kissed him and rocked beneath him and with her hips coaxed his body to where it wanted to go. He began to thrust, a primal motion disconnected from his will, which wanted him to slow, to be gentle—
Morgan moaned her approval beneath him. His hips took over and he thrust harder.
He heard thunder, he heard rain, he heard the metal headboard smacking against the wall, sending repetitive, hollow clanging through the room. He braced a hand against it, gripped Morgan’s hip in his other hand, and lifted her up so only her shoulders were on the bed. So deep, so deep, he didn’t think he could go any deeper—
“I’m going to come again,” she breathed. She gripped his arms, meeting every thrust of his hips with one of her own, staring up at him with those searching eyes that carved a hole into his heart.
“Come with me. Come with me, Xander.”
Breathing hard, sweat blooming over his entire body, he let go of the headboard and clasped her hips hard in both hands. He plunged into her again and again, wilder and harder, with every thrust losing himself to her and the storm and the magic they made together, here in the succoring dark.
“Amada mio,” he hissed through clenched teeth, teetering on the edge as a wave of heat surged up his spine. Every muscle in his body flexed. “Eu me comprometo a vocß. ”
She stiffened and cried out, her head tipped back into the pillows. His eyes slid closed and he heard a roar, only dimly aware it had come from him. Pleasure, searing white, rocketed through him and he jerked, emptying himself inside her, surging again and again as his orgasm tore his breath and every coherent thought away. For a blinding moment there was nothing but the two of them, joined as one. It spun on and on, dreamlike, and then—
He collapsed on top of her. Shaking. Panting. Wordless. He buried his face into her neck.
Her arms came around his shoulders. She cradled him, murmured soft things into his hair that he could not comprehend, so great were his agony and his bliss. He drifted on a current of gratitude so pure it was almost sweet.
She had let a monster into the most precious part of her, had reminded him of what it was to feel passion and pleasure and tenderness, had given him a glimpse of things he didn’t deserve.
Happiness.
Hope.
He wanted to tell her that, wanted to say, You have shown me the way back from hell . But there was a terrible pressure in his chest and a stinging in his eyes and a tightness in his throat that threatened to choke him if he opened his mouth.
“It’s all right,” she murmured, knowing him already too well. “We’re safe from the world now, for a little while. We can have this. It doesn’t have to change anything. We can have our night and go back to who we were tomorrow. Just for tonight, we can have that different life we always wanted.”
He stayed silent, while inside he wept.
25
Eliana watched in horror as a wet and bloodied D staggered into the cool, candlelit opulence of her father’s private library.
“Demetrius!” She leapt from her chair, scattering the newspaper she’d been reading in a flurry across the floor.
He was bare-chested and panting, his face was bruised, gashes on his neck oozed blood in dark rivulets that coated his tattooed chest in a sheen of red. On his left bicep just below the Eye of Horus a deep, ragged wound exposed muscle and a sliver of bloodied white: bone.
“What happened?” demanded Dominus, rising from his desk.
“There were three new males—like the one we saw at the Vatican—three of them were at Alien
—”
“Three more!” said Dominus, astonished.
“You were in a fight!” cried Eliana. She rushed to his side. “My God, your arm—”
“You never said anything about three other males,” Dominus interjected, stepping around the desk, his tone menacing. “You told me you only dreamt of the female and the orange-eyed male—”
“Father! He’s hurt!” Eliana protested, hearing the threat in his voice. How could he be so insensitive?
“Where are Constantine and Felix?” His gaze flickered over the warrior, assessing.
