Desire the Banshee (3 page)

Nothing. She was cold, going through the motions, being with him from some sick drive to gift him, a deaf guy, with her charity. He sucked as a lover. If that in and of itself didn’t prove he and the sensual Daisy weren’t for each other, he didn’t know what did.

With a swoop, he gathered the pile of clothes as quickly as possible. He blocked the mental images as much as he could, as long as he could. He needed to dump these in the washer, a few steps away in the basement.

But his knees locked. He took a deep breath. Sex. Her clothes smelled like her and a nameless man, maybe more than one.

A trickle of sweat ran down the side of his face. His legs trembled.

The scene swept over him, unbidden, unwanted.

Craved.

* * * * *

“Aren’t you a sweet thing?” The man spoke into Daisy’s ear to be heard over the raucous bar crowd. She turned to him and forced her face into a knowing and seductive smile. A somewhat handsome man leered at her, his words slurred and his eyes half closed. His cologne appealed to her. His growly voice made her wet.

“No, lover. Not sweet at all, but you’ll find out soon enough. Let’s go.”

They barely made it to his truck, got his jeans pushed down his thighs, before her mouth was on him, eliciting harsh moans.

Music. Music to her ears.

* * * * *

Sean’s head knocked hard on the thin carpet. The vision faded to a dull shadow as he lay on the floor in a near stupor. Clothes scattered around him. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to rub his face in them and continue the torture, or fling them into the trash. It’d always been that way with him, torn between lust to be with her—though seeing her with other men ripped more of his soul away—and longing to shut that part of her out of his life.

The light stinging his eyes, he blinked and waited for the pain to subside. Throbbing pulsed from the knot on his head caused by the fall.

So, this is the great Sean Twenty
. A knowing laugh that could only be Daisy’s followed that taunting mental projection.

Oh hell. Even as he daily warred with his compulsion to be with her and his dire need to stay away, he’d always envisioned their first real meeting—if it had to happen—as something more along the lines of old friends finding each other, maybe over tea in the garden or shaking hands across Ray’s meeting table.

Not like this, with him spread-eagle on the floor, her clothes spread around him, her thong clutched to his chest and an erection the size of a crowbar straining the front of his jeans. He scrambled up from the floor.

He was in deep shit.

Chapter Three

Damn. Her handler was
hawt
. And boy did she want to handle him.

Black shirt straining against a muscular chest, faded jeans that hugged him to perfection, and thick black hair that made her fingers itch, he inspired urges to climb onto his body and rub against the dark stubble on his chiseled face.

Daisy all but purred. Too bad he couldn’t hear it unless she let him in psychically. She would. Just not yet. First, she wanted some fun. She deserved it. After all these years of him in her head, he owed her.

Big-time.

Her gaze dropped to his straining zipper. And goodie, goodie, he could bring on the big.

She licked her lips. His entire body shuddered.

Somewhere deep inside, she recognized that her banshee self, the one with rampant urges and emotions, was in control, but she didn’t pull it back in. The calm part inside her warned to take it easy on him. Even though she’d never seen Sean before, he wasn’t a stranger, a quick lay. That was all she ever wanted, the quick lay. She didn’t need or want a man to stick around. But Sean would stick around. He wasn’t an option for a fling. He was off-limits.

He was so damn hot.

The lust built, licked at her skin, coated her with its thick allure. Her breasts grew heavy and her pussy grew wet, aching.

Her hesitation decided the matter. He scrambled off the floor before she could straddle the promising and impressive bulge in his jeans.

Her fingers clenched, and she dropped the traitorous hand that’d reached for him. He despised her touch—that had to be why he scrambled away before she could stroke his silky chin-length black hair. Stopping at the door, he gripped the frame as if he wanted to run, but made himself stay to face her.

She pressed a fist into her stomach and shook with the effort to calm the rising heat, burning to take what she wanted before it turned into bitter rage. The battle inside slanted, the anger winning.

She’d not be denied.

The small changing area filled with their harsh breathing. When he didn’t bolt out the door, she let him into her mind. Desperate to keep him here, she gave him the barest taste of what he wanted—the lure to get all she craved. The brick wall in her mind dissolved and she broadcast her wants. Her needs. How she wanted to pin him to the floor and climb onto him. Let him feel the throbbing in her pussy, the ache of her nipples rubbing against her dress and the burn of her lips wanting to taste his.

He closed his eyes and a blissful expression relaxed his sharp features. She nearly combusted on the spot.

“You can hear me.” Out of habit, she modulated her voice so she wouldn’t let loose her wail, but he didn’t need the precaution. He was perfect for her, deaf to her aural abilities.

As he would point out, perfect not as a lover, but as a handler. No more. He wouldn’t be more. She couldn’t have more. Her powers kept her solitary. Alone. She liked it that way.

Yes
. He opened his dark-brown eyes and stared into her, straight through her soul all the way to her toes. The damn man made her feet tingle.

The tightness across her chest and the tug in her belly was new. Unwanted. Something she dared not explore. She trusted lust. Nothing else. Her rage brought death and destruction. Her sadness brought death and destruction. Her fear, the same. Love? She might set off the apocalypse. She didn’t do love.

Daisy laughed. It filled the room. A soft wind blew around them, flapping at the bottom of her dress and flirting with the tips of Sean’s hair.

I can hear you, but I won’t pry into your personal thoughts. I promise.

“You haven’t before, but I think you know what I want.” She stepped toward him. “You don’t have to read my mind to see my need.”

Though he frowned fiercely enough to warn her off, he stood his ground when she brushed against his chest, hard and radiating heat. His clean scent teased her, beckoning her to do something dirty. Her nipples tightening to painful attention, she moaned with the exquisite contact. She needed relief. She brushed against him again as he seemed to pause, rigid, without breathing. Taller than her by several inches and lanky with a muscular cut, he made her mouth water.

I see your need. And mine
, he sent to her.

Dark eyes glittering, he brought a trembling hand to her cheek to brush his thumb across the corner of her mouth. Her tongue darted out for a lick.

More
. She whispered the thought.

His hands stroked her face, down her arm, caressing with gentle care as if this mattered to him. As if she mattered and what they did was something he cherished. She wasn’t just a way to scratch an itch.

She stepped back. The increasing tightness in her chest made it hard to bring in air. Shaking her head, she stared into his face, at the understanding and acceptance, but he didn’t let her go.

Do you see my need?
He brought up her hand and sucked her finger into his mouth. Her body arched toward him and she groaned.

Then he was holding her, crushing her to him as his lips melded to hers. His taste was wonderful. All she’d imagined but more, with a hint of wildness, the tinge of desire and wholly addictive. The heat brushed around them, wind tugging at her clothes. His tongue plundered inside to rub against hers. Frantic to touch him, she tugged on his shirt and ran her hands along his back, skin warm and inviting.

Their hips thrust against one another. His cock, hard behind his zipper, dug into her fevered skin through the thin fabric of her dress.

A white static overtook her vision in a flash. An elemental and primal part of herself roared, recognizing the call to mate, to connect talents. Sean’s kiss faltered. The buzzing in her ears blared louder and then quieted when he pulled his mouth away.

The strange moment passed and the ache in her belly doubled, crying out to be filled. She threaded her hands in his hair and jerked him back to her. Humming the banshee’s pleasure, she tangled her tongue with his, renewing their kiss and seeking the moment when he capitulated and let the lust rule them.

The depth that she felt should’ve scared her, but it inflamed her even more.

Put your hands on me, Sean
.

I will. Everywhere. I want to touch you everywhere
. He growled in her head and she closed her eyes as she shivered.

Growl like that again, and I swear I’ll come just standing here
.

A small sound like a whimper escaped, filling the room, and he yanked her closer. His hands fisted in her hair and his lips trailed up her neck to nip on her chin. Then he found her lips and feasted on her.

Her hum vibrated to pitch her higher and higher. She needed him. Now. Here. Deep, deep inside her, completely inside her, where no other man had touched. She wanted his cock, his hand, his tongue, so much she couldn’t see straight.

He groaned. The gruff sound made her eyes cross in delight. His tone was low, dissonant and delicious. She’d never heard anything so wonderful. He continued his torture of pleasure, a kiss so carnal she’d never be the same again. His hands still held her head, but she wanted them everywhere, on her breasts, on her ass, between her legs, his fingers parting her folds and sliding inside.

She rubbed against him. Struggling against her dress to get closer, she lifted her leg and wrapped it around his waist. She couldn’t press close enough. Her hum resonated through the room. The closed blinds vibrated with the pulse of her clit.

That
had never happened before.

Sliding her eager hands around his waist, she made a trail from his lower back to the button of his jeans. Finally, she’d get a look at Sean’s cock, something she’d dreamed of doing for years.

Hurry, please. It’s been so long
. Sean’s hips bucked, making her grip on his jeans fumble.

“How long, handler? How long since a woman’s had her hands on you?” The question made her frown. A deep-seated anger stirring in her belly.

They both stilled. Then she licked his jaw, eager to get it on before he changed his mind, something she sensed he was doing. Her fingers dipped below the waistband of his jeans, refusing to stop their quest. She brushed against the head of his cock and he jerked. Keeping a death grip on his waistband, she encircled the tip of his cock with the other.

“Silky,” she purred. “And already wet for me. Do you know how wet I am?”

Sean gasped and she opened her mouth on his neck, suckling, memorizing his taste. She rubbed against his leg, seeking friction. She needed more. She squeezed around the width of him and stroked down, best she could. He shuddered and her hum returned. She was eager to match the sexual pulses sizzling between their bodies and minds.

He gripped her around the waist. She read it in his mind. He was about to throw her on the floor and pound his cock inside her. His mind was a whirl of
Now. Need. Now. Daze.

Yes
, she broadcast from her mind, unwilling to stop her quest to memorize the inside of his mouth to speak out loud.

“Daisy?” The call came from the direction of the stairs. With a growl, she ignored the interruption and suckled Sean’s lower lip.

Lights flared in the basement and shined through the open door of her changing room. Sean abruptly pulled back and her hand ripped out of his jeans. A shadow flickered across the chiseled cut of his jaw. Lips swollen and wet pulled down at the corners and a charming blush spread over his cheekbones. Her heart stuttered in her chest.

He glanced over his shoulder.
It’s Griffin. Here to take you to the rogue camp. You can’t go
.

She’d go, but not until she was done here. She wanted Sean. She’d have him.

Now.

“Go away, Griffin,” she snarled.

Sean raised a brow and gripped her hand when she tried to brush down those frustratingly in-the-way jeans. She’d managed to unzip him and the tip of his cock, red and coated with pre-come, pressed against a flat belly. Her mouth watered and her legs went weak. She was about three seconds away from dropping to her knees and taking him in her mouth.

“Ah, in a mood, are we?” The clomp on the stairs could only be Griffin Cinder, who may have been cofounder of the Group but had none of the grace of his brother. And was completely unwelcome at the moment. “Well, keep it under wraps until I can get my ear guards. I left them in the car.”

Griffin wasn’t usually so careless around her. Must have had a rough night. She smirked. “I said, Go. Away.”

Disappointment heavy when he shoved his cock back into his boxers and zipped closed his jeans, she batted at Sean’s hands to get back to work peeling off his clothes. She whispered low, for his ears alone—through the strange path of her own ears, through her brain, directly to his. “Where were we? I know where I’m about to be. On my knees. That is one delicious-looking cock. I want a long and thorough taste.”

We can’t do this. It’s a mistake. But you can’t go on this mission either. Stay. We’ll find other options. It’s too dangerous for you to go. He frowned at her and the blush faded from his cheeks. The slightly unfocused look of his eyes cleared, and he firmed those tasty lips.

Her pulse pounded at her temple.

“Dangerous?” she shrilled.

“Daisy.” The pained sound from Griffin should have stopped her, but when the light touch of Sean’s mind connection slipped away as he turned toward Griffin, her control shredded.

Her rage consumed, pushed, prodded, wouldn’t be denied. He’d left her. Aching. Unfulfilled. How dare he?

Arms spread wide, she let her head fall back and opened her mouth to wail, to punish, to wreak havoc.

No! Don’t hurt Griffin.

Sean had no right to tell her no. He’d spurned her, left her. He’d turned his back on her.

Tears streaked down her cheeks. The mirror over the sink pinged. Through the open door, she caught a glimpse of Griffin’s contorted features, hands clamped over his ears. She forced her moan louder, fuller.

Crack
. The mirror splintered. She curled her lip and spread her legs wider. More. She needed more. She took a large lungful of air and prepared to let go her scream of rage.

Death to those who denied her.

Sean slammed into her and they fell to the floor. Her moan stopped abruptly as the air left her body. He straddled her hips and held her down. Deep brown eyes stared into her as he burst inside her head.

He touched everywhere at once, as if tiny fingers from thousands of hands danced over her skin from head to foot. Her toes curled and she bucked up. He didn’t budge. He thrust through her consciousness, images played over and through them, racing thoughts of dreams, aches, memories, need. The spurn of the other kids in her neighborhood. The horror on her parents’ faces when she’d destroyed the house. The loneliness of the state-sponsored teen home. Her entire being opened to him and he rushed in like a symphony filled an auditorium, all the way to the outreaches. The beat of a bass drum thrummed through her.

She panted and clutched at him. Sweat slicked over her. She watched a drop slowly slide down the side of his face. She wanted to lick it and swallow the salty flavor. She concentrated on the track of the drop, on the need to please him as he mentally claimed her. He invaded all that she was.