Forbidden Passion (18 page)

Ruthie Mae Stanton had wanted to tell Marlena everything. But she was too ashamed.

Ashamed, but not enough to change. No, she wasn’t ready for that. She had always been a prude, a good girl, had only slept with one man, the boy she’d married years ago. And she’d only had sex in the missionary position with her husband, Gene.

Gene the deadhead, she thought with a bitter laugh.

He was boring and fat now, and bald, and after his nightly six-pack of PBR, the asshole couldn’t get it up. Not that he had much in that department anyway. He was about the size of a cocktail wiener.

Judge Brannigan’s stately image flashed into her head. Now there was a man.

Strong, big, and powerful, both in his job and in the bedroom.

He’d taught her so many things between the sheets, had taken mundane sex and turned each touch into a titillating journey of exploration and endless pleasure.

She finished her shift at the hospital, then hurried home and changed into a slinky red dress, one she’d bought off the Internet in a shopping frenzy. It hugged her curvaceous figure and had a split up the side to midthigh. Unfortunately, she couldn’t show off her ample cleavage because of that nasty scar from her bypass surgery, but she had killer legs, even in her forties.

The judge didn’t seem to mind her scar or her age.

She dabbed on perfume and powder, then hopped into the car and raced through traffic, battling the horrific weather. She parked at the hotel. The judge was waiting in the hotel room, dressed in his judge’s robe as if holding court, his steamy look raking over her from head to toe. He slammed his gavel on the wooden desk, then waved his hand as if to order her to fall to her knees.

“You’re late,” he said harshly.

A sliver of fear shot through her, yet excitement heated her blood. “I’ll make it up to you,” she whispered.

His wicked laugh boomeranged off the walls, then he tossed down a shot of whiskey and grabbed the thick rope on the table. “Oh, you’ll pay,” he said, then reached for her dress, ripped it off, and shoved her to the floor. “Tonight I’m going to punish you. You’re going to suffer for all your sins.”

 
“Yes, Master.” Her nipples hardened as she bowed to him. But for a split second, she contemplated being the dominator, making him suffer. Following through on the orders from the evil voice inside her head.

 
Except that she would kill the women who’d stolen the men from her. She would strap them down, carve an S into their chests, watch the blood trickle down their bodies and drip to the floor in a beautiful crimson river.

Hunger spiraled through Dante as his lips closed over Marlena’s. She moaned his name, and raw lust and need inflamed him.

He wanted to strip her clothes off and feel her naked against his greedy fingers, to feel her body opening and welcoming his thick cock between her moist thighs.

A wicked smile curved his mouth, and he cupped her face in his hands. For a moment he allowed himself to indulge in forbidden fantasies—he could hear her panting his name as he brought her to the brink, then teased her until she begged him to make her come.

She wet her lips, but her gaze remained locked to his. Damnmit. For the first time in his life, a deep-seated fear crowded his throat.

Not fear for himself but fear of losing her to the demons.

She was warmth to his cold, life to his dead, empty soul.

So he lowered his mouth to hers, claiming her as he’d craved to from the very moment he’d met her.

She moaned and leaned into his chest, her body trembling against him.

A fierce hunger overtook him, his body twitching with arousal to the point of pain. Firelight flickered over her beautiful face, and he slid a hand over her breast, then ripped open her blouse and sucked a plump pink nipple into his mouth.

Still, even as her goodness soothed the need in his body, the call of evil beckoned beneath the surface. He wanted to throw her down, take her fast and furious, force her to pleasure him, to serve his every need, tie her to him forever.

It was wrong, and he knew it. Wrong to take a human, wrong ‘to seduce her when she was vulnerable. Wrong because she wasn’t part of his world and never would be.

Wrong because he had secrets he didn’t want her to discover.

Need rippled through Marlena, her body tingling with it, her nipples hardening. Dante’s touch ignited a fire in her belly, the flames of desire burning so hotly that her knees nearly buckled.

He was the sexiest, strongest man she’d ever met. And something about him, maybe the mysterious danger underlying his eyes, his tone, even his control, made her crave his touch.

She didn’t want to die without at least being with him one time.

Muscles bunched in his chest as he pressed her against him and nipped at her lips, teasing her mouth. With a low moan, he plunged his tongue inside, while his hands raked over her and tore at her clothes. Seconds later, they dropped to the braided rug by the fire, and he trailed kisses along her jaw and neck, then lower, to her breast.

Marlena whispered his name as the erotic sensations pummeled her.

 
He kneed her legs apart as he suckled her, and wanton needs possessed her as if she’d lost control over her conscious mind.

 
Dante’s touch felt electric, addictive, comforting, erotic, mind-numbing, as if nothing mattered but their bodies mating and becoming one.

 
He traced a finger over her bare stomach, dipping his fingers into the wet folds of her body, and she bucked upward, needing more, craving his length inside her.

 
“Marlena,” he said in a hoarse voice, “give yourself to me.”

 
A blinding ache filled her, and she parted her legs, unable to deny him. “Yes,” she whispered.

 
His gaze met hers as he rose above her and shoved her tangled hair from her eyes. Smiling wickedly, he stripped off his clothes.

 
Her stomach clenched. His big body, illuminated by the firelight, looked like that of a male god. She’d never seen anyone so powerful and strong, so dark and fierce, so terrifying and sexy.

 
His shoulders were broad, with corded muscles that rippled down his stomach, his thick hard sex pushing between her thighs.

 
Yet scars marred his arms and torso. Scars that made her wonder who had hurt him.

 
Scars that made her want to kiss away any pain he had ever suffered.

 
Rising to her knees, she pulled him toward her and she did kiss them. One by one. As her lips soothed his flesh, his low growl echoed in the room, rumbling with hunger and need.

Instinct drove her to slide her fingers over his powerful length. His gruff groan of pleasure gave her the courage to stroke him from the base of his cock to the head where moisture beaded on the surface.

He shoved her hand away, cupped her hips, and thrust inside her, filling her, stretching her until she wound her legs around him, closed her eyes, and relinquished control completely. Pain and pleasure ripped through her with mind-numbing intensity.

He cradled her face with his hands and kissed her again, then nibbled at her earlobe gently. “Look at me, Marlena.”

Her eyes flew open, and her gaze latched with his, the passion flaming in his expression sending her over the edge.

Her orgasm exploded in a blinding sea of white light and brilliant colors. She cried out, clutching his back with her fingers, urging him to move faster. He undulated his hips, then thrust inside her again, harder, so deep she thought she would die, and he came inside her with a raw, guttural sound that echoed off the mountain.

His body was burning hot, pinpricks of fire leaping through her nerve endings everywhere he’d touched her. Another strange feeling swept over her, fear erupting. It felt as if her body no longer belonged to her, as if it belonged to him and would forever.

Dante’s body ached with need, a fiery burning sensation more intense and vibrant than he’d ever experienced flooding him. Sex normally revived him, but this was different—it was almost as if his heat had melted into her, her goodness had revived his humanity, as if their bodies and souls had collided.

The scent of her skin suffused him, sending a wild ache through him that needed to be quenched again and again and again.

Some primal beast inside him railed at the thought of her being with another man after him.

She pressed a kiss to his chest, and tenderness for her pummeled him: He rolled them sideways, then turned to face her. But regret about his lies fueled his blood as he looked into her trusting eyes.

Still, his dark desires ran hot, and he traced his finger over her breast, then down to where their bodies were still joined.

Pain and guilt streaked through him, nearly robbing him of breath as his past played through his mind. The days of captivity, the brutal punishments, the beatings, the hunts. His fellow demons attacking Marlena’s family, her horrified face, her screams of terror…

If she knew the truth, she’d run from him in horror.

She angled herself so they were nose to nose, so close that the scent of her made him hard again. “I hate that I’m afraid,” she admitted softly. “I wasn’t like that as a kid. Before that awful day when my mother and sister were killed, I used to be fearless.”

His throat tightened, the lies and betrayal burning his throat like acid.

She smiled softly, reached for his hand, and threaded her fingers in his. “I wish you could have known me then. I used to fly on my bike down the hill. I used to dive off the ridge into the river. And I loved lightning storms. Once I even climbed that old tower in town when a storm was brewing.” Her voice hitched. “Now, I hate storms.”

Dante squeezed her hand, an image of a playful young Marlena nagging at him. She had been young and daring and innocent.

But his demon family had stolen her innocence that day.

Suddenly her smile faded and she lowered her gaze and stared at their joined hands. “It was my fault my family was killed.”

She lifted her gaze and the anguish in her eyes clawed at him.

He had to clear his throat before he could speak. “That’s not true, Marlena, and you know it.”

“Yes it is.” Tears glittered on her lashes. “My sister hated the woods. She was afraid there were monsters there. But I insisted on going camping. I begged and pleaded and called her a sissy for being afraid.”

He tilted her chin up with the pad of his thumb. “Marlena, you were only a child. That’s what kids do.”

“But I didn’t believe her’ she said in a broken voice. “I always thought I was invincible, that I had to show off. My mother gave in to me, but she couldn’t find a babysitter so Carrie had to go with us.” The tears she’d been trying to hold at bay streamed down her cheeks. “If I hadn’t begged, if I hadn’t called my sister a chicken and pleaded with Mama, we would have been home that day, not in the woods.”

“Marlena,” he said gruffly. “It wasn’t your fault. Those monsters came out of nowhere and attacked you.”

“But if we hadn’t been in those woods,” she said, choking on a sob, “my mother and sister would still be alive.”

The words he needed to say to comfort her failed him. Telling her the truth now would only hurt her more and make her see him for the monster he’d been back then.

The monster that still lived within him. The one he constantly had to battle to keep that side of him at bay.

Damn. He’d kill himself and any demon who tried to hurt her.

Marlena curled against Dante and wiped her eyes. She’d never felt so close to anyone in her life.

The thought terrified her.

 
Yet pure pleasure from their lovemaking still rippled through her. Confessing her guilt somehow eased her conscience.

 
“Dante?”

 
He thumbed her hair from her cheek. “What?”

 
“What happened to you after that day? Where did you go?”

 
He stiffened, that cold, shuttered look crossing his face. “It’s not important.”

 
“Yes, it is. You just disappeared. Over the years, I wondered where you were. What you were doing. About your family.”

 
He completely shut down, then threw his legs over the side of the bed.

 
“Please don’t go.” She tugged at his arm, coaxing him back to her. “I just want to know more about you and how you got those scars.”

 
He gritted his teeth. “That’s the last damn thing you want, Marlena.”

 
“No, I really want to know.”

 
“Drop it. You know all you need to know about me.”

“That’s true, I guess,” she whispered. “I know you saved me, and you’ve been protecting me since this killer surfaced. I have faith in you, Dante. You’re going to find this killer and put him away.”