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Authors: Angela Knight

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BOOK: Master of the Night
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Since his master seemed to be in a good mood, Parker decided to dare a question.
“Speaking of whom, has he Turned the girl yet?”

“Oh, no. I designed the compulsion to build slowly, so he can fight it for another day or two.”
His laugh was unpleasant.
“By the time we're ready, it'll be so strong, he'll pin her against the nearest wall and fuck her like a rabbit.”

Parker frowned.
“What if he decides to Change her deliberately, before the spell can force him? They could escape.”

“Champion?”
Geirolf snorted.
“Not likely. He had a very ugly experience with an unsanctioned Maja a couple of centuries ago. He'd never risk Turning her. That's why I chose him rather than one of the other vampires I'd identified. Besides, there's no way a newly Turned Maja would be able to break out of that cell. It held
me,
after all.”

Parker considered challenging a few of his master's assumptions, but decided that might be pushing it.
“What about the cultists? What's your plan for them, if I might ask?”

Geirolf shrugged.
“Once the Magekind is dead, I'm afraid we may have trouble with the Sidhe. It's entirely possible Llyr and his brother will decide to put aside their differences and unite against me.”
His smile was dark.
“I'm going to have to do something about that—with a little help from the cults.”

 

Erin was right:
Turning her might be the only chance they had, and Reece knew it. Maybe if she'd been any other woman, he would have already yielded to the ruthless, inevitable logic of the situation. If she went mad and he ended up having to kill her, that was still better than being sacrificed in a spell that would kill thousands of people.

But she wasn't any other woman. She was Erin.

That shouldn't make a difference. He had his duty, his sworn oath to do whatever the hell he had to in order to ensure the survival of the human race and its Mageverse guardians.

If only she wasn't so intelligent and honorable and admirable. Not to mention so lush she made his balls ache even when he wasn't under a spell.

But if he Gifted her and it went bad, he'd plunge her into a hell of madness that would end only with one of them killing the other.

The thought made his gut twist. God, he hated killing women. In more than two centuries as America's champion, he'd had to end the lives of only three: Lizzie and two others whose executions the Council had ordered.

There had been women who had probably needed killing—spies, traitors, criminals—but he'd always managed to find other solutions to whatever problem they presented. And he'd never killed a woman he'd slept with.

He certainly didn't want to start with Erin.

Reece grimaced, remembering the visceral jolt in his arm as the sword rammed home in Lizzie's chest. There'd been such gratitude in her gaze. She'd known what Mageverse Fever had done to her, and she'd seen death as a welcome release.

Maybe it was weak. Maybe he was shirking his duty. But he didn't want to have to meet Erin's eyes as he killed her.

“There is one alternative,” she said suddenly from the table, picking restlessly at a piece of bread.

Reece looked over at her, trying to ignore the fist of lust that gripped his balls at the sight of her lush body just barely contained in that Merry Widow. She still sat on the table, those long legs crossed. He wanted them wrapped around his waist. “I'd like to hear it,” he said, and hoped she didn't notice the rasp of raw hunger in his voice.

“You can kill me now.”

He stared at her, feeling like a man who'd taken a hard punch right between the eyes. “What?”

“We can't do nothing, Champion.” Her gaze was fierce and direct on his. “Doing nothing is the same as just giving ourselves to that bastard. Sooner or later, he'll make you take me, and we'll be finished.”

He should have realized she'd see the situation as clearly as he did.
“I'm not killing you.”

“Stop thinking like a Boy Scout!” Erin exploded, banging the flat of her hand on the table. “You're an American agent. I know you've had to make tough choices before. Make one now. The only no-risk alternative is killing me, and you know it.”

Forgetting the danger, he stalked toward her, grabbed her by the shoulders, and hoisted her half off the table until they were nose to nose. “I won't be bluffed into Gifting you, Erin!”

“I'm not bluffing, Champion. Geirolf can't kill me if I'm already dead.”

Simmering with frustrated rage, he snarled into her face, “Do you honestly think that hasn't occurred to me?”

“Oh, I know it's occurred to you. You're not stupid.”

Reece cursed viciously and let her go before he yielded to his driving need to kiss her. Her bottom hit the table with a thump that rattled crockery.

He was hard as Excalibur, and felt at least that long.

She dared curl that luscious lip at him. “I didn't realize you were this big a Pollyanna.”

“Pollyanna, my ass. Do you have any idea how many men I've killed? Not just soldiers and spies, but poor assholes who were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. I'm nobody's idea of Pollyanna.”

“So why are you going chickenshit now?”

He shot her a hot glare, knowing when he was being goaded. “Maybe because for a minute there, I found you likable.”

“Hey, if it would make it easier if I do bitch, I can do bitch.”

“Would you just back the hell off for a—” He broke off as she picked up a carving knife from the table beside her hip. Chilling calculation filled her eyes.

He watched her, feeling something still and cool slide over him. “You planning to use that on me?” There was a certain logic to that idea. If her death would spike Geirolf's guns, so would his.

Erin looked up and snorted. “Do I look dumb enough to think I could pull that off? I've seen you in action.”

“So what are you—?” Calculation became horror as he realized what she was thinking. “No.”

“I never understood why David did it.” She studied the knife blade, her gaze brooding. “Until now. If your only alternative is to either allow something like Geirolf to destroy you or to take yourself out—”

Reece snatched the knife from her hand. “David wasn't that selfless, Erin. He just couldn't stand the idea of killing you any more than I can.” He held the knife up until it caught the light. “But unfortunately, this isn't an enchanted blade, so I don't have the option of suicide.” With a flip of his wrist, he threw the knife into the pool. “The only real option I've got is this.”

He grabbed a fistful of her blond curls, bent her head back, and took her mouth in the kiss he'd been craving for hours.

 

Champion's mouth felt
like hot, wet silk as he claimed her lips, holding nothing back. She felt one big hand slide under her ass, lifting her up off the table to pull her full length against him. Rolling his muscled torso against her, he let her feel the strength and lust skidding out of control with every flick of his tongue and hungry, biting kiss.

Her head began to spin from the sheer erotic ferocity of his kiss, of his hands pulling her tighter against his hard-on. Her heart thumped with a combination of relief, desire, and fear.

“I thought you didn't want to take the chance,” she murmured against his mouth.

He caught her lower lip in his teeth, tugged gently. “I've decided you're worth the risk.”

With a soft moan, she wrapped her legs around his waist and hooked her ankles together at the small of his back. Still kissing her, Reece carried her across the cell to the bed. He tossed her lightly onto the mattress, then came down on top of her, pressing her deliciously into the pile of furs.

He lifted his head to look down at her for one wildly carnal moment. His mouth was flushed from the fierce kiss, and his eyes glittered over the white length of his fangs.

Erin stared up at him with a breathless combination of desire and fear. Not the physical fear that he would hurt her—he wasn't capable of that—but the purely feminine fear of being overwhelmed by raw male hunger.

And it didn't get any more raw than Champion's.

She could feel herself creaming, readying for the big cock pressing against her abdomen. He reached up and wrapped his fingers in the bodice of her corset. Jerked downward until her stiff nipples popped free, aching and ready. With a sound somewhere between a growl and a moan, he lowered his head.

Watching him breathlessly, Erin waited for that beautiful mouth to claim her again. Her own heartbeat pounded a jungle beat in her ears.

Then his lips closed fully over the tight pink tip. Erin threw her head back and gasped as he began to suck, flicking skillfully with his tongue. Simultaneously he teased the other nipple with one hand, milking pleasure from it in starburst glitters she could almost see.

Even as the wave of arousal and delight rose, Erin knew they could both be dead within hours. She pushed the thought away. If this moment with Champion was all she'd ever have, she'd damn well make the most of it.

Lifting both hands, she threaded her fingers through the black silk of his hair, enjoying the texture as his skilled mouth teased and caressed her flesh. He groaned in pleasure at her touch. Encouraged, she reached down to stroke the hard muscle of one shoulder, then let her fingers dance over his biceps. His skin felt smooth and supple, the texture seducing her into exploring further.

He lifted his head, gave her a wild look from under dark brows. “Don't do that,” he growled. “You're going to send me right over the edge.”

She grinned up at him wickedly. “Ooh. That sounds like fun.” Reaching around his brawny arm, she ran a testing thumb over his ribs. He jerked away with a gasp. She laughed. “A ticklish vampire. Ah, the possibilities!”

“Minx.” He jerked off her in one fluid movement and strode back to the bath.

She sat up, bracing herself on her elbows as he bent to pick up his robe. “Come back! No more tickling, I promise.”

“Oh, I know there's not going to be any more tickling.” Champion pulled the silk belt from the robe's belt loops, then tossed the robe aside and headed for her again.

“Hey!” She sat up, holding up a hand to fend him off. “No bondage, Double Oh Fang.”

“See, now that's the nice thing about being the vampire,” he told her, whipping a length of silk around her wrist before capturing the hand she was batting at him. “I get what I want.”

After all the anger and tension of the last two days, knowing they were finally going to act on their desire made Erin feel almost giddy. She squirmed and bucked, but she was giggling too hard to put up effective resistance. In seconds, he had both wrists securely trussed.

When she finally subsided, out of breath from laughter, he grinned down at her wickedly. “Voilà. A bound blond buffet—every vampire's dream dinner.”

“Pervert.” Deciding to get into the spirit of things, Erin gave him a deliberately enticing wiggle.

His grin widened, revealing fangs. “Oh, yesss. The presentation needs work, though.”

She gave him a mock-offended sniff. “I beg your pardon?”

“Yeah. You're not naked.” He flopped down beside her onto one elbow and reached out his free hand to untie the bow in the white ribbon laces of her corset.

EIGHT

Erin settled back
to watch, feeling the heat growing again as his long, clever fingers slowly unlaced the ribbons, pulling and tugging gently. His green gaze flicked from her face to the gap slowly widening between the edges of her corset. Appetite had sharpened his brutal good looks even more. Her own desire coiled in tight, hot spirals in her belly.

Unconsciously she bent her knees and spread her legs. His eyes snapped to her face, so fierce with hunger she licked her lips.

He growled.

Suddenly he sat up, grabbed the edges of her corset in both hands, and jerked. Silk ripped and ribbons snapped. Erin's eyes widened as he dragged the remains of the corset off her body and threw it across the room.

Her fragile thong panties were the next to go, sacrificed to one impatient jerk.

Naked, wearing only her white lace stockings, Erin stared up at him as desire seared her veins in a white-hot wave. The bulge in his silk trousers looked more like a baseball bat than an erection. Slowly, darkly, he smiled. “Naked bound blonde. Now,
that's
the way I like my dinner.”

 

Reece could smell
Erin's need. It perfumed the air with a salty, delicious musk he was dying to taste. She lay with her narrow wrists tied in black silk between those luscious breasts, her long legs spread, all that blond hair tumbled around her face. Her blue eyes looked dazed.

Within him, the Desire strained at the leash he'd managed to throw over it. His aching cock twitched. He decided to give her a look at it.

He caught the waistband of his silk trousers in both thumbs and began to tug downward, revealing the thick and straining shaft inch by inch. Erin licked her lips.

He wanted to plunge his cock between them.

Not yet,
Reece told the Desire, pushing the pants the rest of the way down his thighs. His shaft bobbed as he kicked free of them.

“So is the horse still crying?” she asked, her voice rough with a mixture of arousal and amusement.

He lifted a brow. “What horse?”

“The one you got that dick from.”

Reece laughed. “You're a very bad girl, Erin.”

“Yep.” Her smile was wicked as he eased down on top of her, catching his breath at the feeling of her warmed velvet curves. “And getting worse every minute. What are you going to do—punish me?”

“Oh, yeah.” He eyed the sweet, full mounds of her breasts. Her nipples were flushed pink, hard as cherries. “A tongue lashing is definitely called for.”

The feeling of that slim, naked body under his made his head spin. Shuddering in raw need, he closed his mouth over the nearest nipple and began to suck. The taste spun into his head like a Catherine's wheel on the Forth of July, slinging sparks of pleasure with every revolution.

She arched under him, catching at his chest with her small, bound hands. His hold on the Desire slipped another notch. Quickly he caught her wrists and pulled them over her head. If he lost control, it would be over far too fast.

Which was why he'd better speed it up before the thin leash on his need snapped.

With a rumble of hunger, Reece began to nibble his way down her narrow torso, licking and biting gently at the full curves of her breasts. Next came the sweet, pale skin that lay over her delicate abdominal muscles. He paused to swirl his tongue around her navel until she squirmed, then switched his attention to the fragile jut of one hip bone.

“I take back the Boy Scout comparison,” she managed. “You've got a sadistic streak.”

Reece smiled and buried his nose in the fine golden curls over her pussy. “Who, me?” He gave one labia a gently taunting lick. “I just like my food nice and hot.”

Erin threw back her head and gasped. “You make me sound like a Big Mac.”

“Oh, no.” He pushed his tongue between her nether lips and closed his eyes in delight at the thick cream that filled her. “You're much sweeter than a Big Mac.”

She whimpered and spread her thighs in invitation. Smiling, he settled himself more comfortably between them.

The smile became an outright grin as Erin arched into his mouth. Reece gave her another gently sampling lick. “Something more creamy than a Big Mac,” he decided, grinning against her cunt as she rolled her hips. “I know. Pudding.”

Her laughter held a note of outrage. “Pudding? You're comparing me to pudding?”

“Egg custard?” He closed his mouth over her clit and suckled gently.

“I refuse to be”—she had to stop to pant—“compared to custard. Jesus, Champion, where's the poetry?”

“Crème brûlée.” He parted her lips with two fingers and began to lick her with all the skill he'd learned over two centuries. “Sweet and creamy on the tongue.”

“Oh, God,” she managed. “Well, at least that's French.”

 

It took Champion
ninety seconds to rush her to a glorious, shuddering climax.

Lying limp and dazed in the aftermath, she was barely aware he'd sat up between her thighs.

The next thing she knew, he flipped her effortlessly onto her stomach. Her nervous system still jangling from the furious climax, she lifted her head woozily as he pulled her onto her knees, ass in the air. “Champion, what—?”

She had her answer when he drove into her in one hard, stunning thrust. The sensation of being filled so completely, so ruthlessly, damn near blew off the top of her head. She managed a strangled yelp. And then he was riding her, stroking hard in and out of her hot, cream-filled core.

“God!” She pulled herself up and managed to brace onto her elbows. The silk belt tied around her wrists spilled over the fur in front of her as Champion fucked her, jarring her body with his long, steady lunges. Erin shuddered under the onslaught, dazed and overwhelmed by the sensation of so much hard cock stuffing her.

“Oh, yeah,” he purred in her ear, bracing his hands beside her head as he lowered himself over her until he covered her completely. “Open yourself up to me. You're so tight. Like a silken fist wrapped around my cock. How does it feel?”

“Big.” Her dazed brain couldn't manage any word longer than one syllable. “So hard. Oh, God!”

One hand clamped down on her bound wrists as he braced himself on the other, pumping deep. She lifted her butt for him, setting her knees farther apart on the mattress. Letting him take her however he wanted.

And he apparently wanted her fast and deep and without mercy, in long, ramming strokes that reached halfway to her heart and sent her building orgasm coiling up her spine. She threw back her head and keened at the tension, at the blinding pleasure just out of reach.

“Give me your throat,” he growled in her ear.

Arousal hit her in another hard punch at the rough demand. Obediently Erin tossed her hair back and turned her head, baring her banging pulse to him.

He stopped thrusting and leaned down. She looked up at him from the corner of one eye and saw his open fangs.

The bite made her jolt against him, driving his seated cock another inch deeper. She whimpered in helpless lust.

And then he was feeding, drinking her blood as he began to fuck her again, driving even deeper and harder than before.

Erin quivered at the maddening triple penetration. He was buried to the balls now, taking her in short, ruthless strokes that coiled her rising orgasm tighter and tighter and…

She screamed as it exploded in all its ferocious glory, a dark wave of pleasure that dimmed her sight.

Champion drove in one final hard stroke and stiffened with a growl, still drinking from her as he came.

As the aftershocks pulsed through her, Erin collapsed bonelessly. Without breaking his hold on her throat or his penetration of her cunt, he rolled over with her until she sprawled on top of his hard, muscled body.

Spread like an offering as he fed from her throat.

 

After almost three
hundred years, Reece had finally met a woman he could love. And the odds were very good he'd end up destroying her.

The bitterness of that knowledge gnawed at him even now, as he lay with Erin sprawled on top of his body, limp with sated pleasure, the taste of her blood in his mouth. His cock was still inside her, though he could feel it slipping slowly out as it softened.

She deserved so much better than this.

He thought of the women he'd known and enjoyed over more than two centuries as a vampire. Mortals and Latents and Majae, the beautiful and the brilliant, the courageous and the honorable and the skilled. Erin had it all, wrapped in one luscious package that managed to arouse both his lust and his admiration.

Damn, he didn't want to do this to her.

If the Change went bad, that wonderful mind would crack under the Mageverse's psychic battering, and he'd have to kill her. Even if she proved strong enough to withstand the sudden acquisition of all that power, if she couldn't break them out of the cell, Geirolf would return and kill them both.

Well, no, Reece realized, as his heart sank. He couldn't allow her to be used that way. He'd have to kill her himself.

Their only chance—and it seemed slim—was that Erin could use her power to break them free. And even that was a dicey proposition, because they could easily end up facing a death sentence from the Majae's Council. True, the witches would probably understand, given the seriousness of the situation with Geirolf. But the Majae could be a capricious lot, and he'd learned long ago he couldn't always predict what they'd decide.

All they needed was for someone to have a vision indicating Erin was dangerous, and they'd end up facing a Round Table execution team.

Not that any of that mattered one way or another. Reece was committed to Changing her now, regardless of the outcome. And he'd been in combat often enough to know that if you concentrated on the fact that you were probably going to die, you were virtually guaranteed to do just that.

The thought of his own death didn't really bother him. He should have been dead centuries ago; he could hardly bitch about the hand he'd been dealt now. But Erin was a different story.

If the next couple of hours were all she would ever have, he was damn well going to make them good ones. Starting right now.

Tenderly he unwrapped the silk tie from around her wrists, then gathered her into his arms and rolled from the bed. She stirred and lifted her head as he carried her across the room. “Where are we going?” she asked sleepily as he deposited her on her feet beside the Roman bath.

“I thought you might want to wash,” he explained as he went down on one knee to roll those lace stockings down her smooth, endless legs.

She yawned hugely and braced a slim hand on his shoulder as she lifted one foot so he could tug the stocking off. “Actually, I'd kind of like a nap, but I guess we'd better get back on it.”

Reece lifted a brow. “Well, if you've got something you'd rather do…”

“Mmmm. Definitely not.” Erin grinned languorously at the ceiling. Then the humor drained from her face. “But we really do need to get me Changed before Geirolf comes back for his human sacrifice.” She frowned as he went to work on the other stocking. “Come to think of it, I wonder why he didn't just hang around to watch us do the deed?”

“Good question.” He tossed the wisp of silk aside. “Then again, he's been locked up in this cell since Merlin walked the Earth. Maybe he just couldn't stand the thought of being in here again, even for something like this.”

“Makes sense. I'm already sick of this place myself, and we've only been here two days.” Naked, Erin turned—giving him an excellent view of her delectable ass—and stepped down into the water. She sighed in pleasure and bent her knees until she could submerge herself to the chin.

Reece moved to the selection of oils and soaps he'd sorted through earlier, lifting them one by one and sniffing until he found a couple that smelled like her: richly, sensuously female. He picked both bottles up and stepped down into the bath with her.

“What's that?” Erin asked, eyeing the bottle with misgivings.

“An aphrodisiac.” He grinned at her dubious expression and poured the contents of the bottle into one hand. “Just kidding. I think. No, one of them is shampoo. The other's some kind of massage oil. Courtesy of our amazing enchanted cell. Though why Merlin created it to be so generous to a monster like Geirolf is a very good question.”

“Some people are just too civilized for their own good.” She tilted back her head as he began working the cream into her long blond hair. “Mmm…” Her throaty purr at the sensation made his sated cock twitch in reviving interest. “That feels really nice.”

“Yeah,” he said hoarsely. “It does.” And it did. Her thick hair slid through his fingers like rich, raw silk. The scent alone, lush with femininity and Erin, was enough to make his blood rise hot. Closing his eyes, he let himself sink into pure languorous pleasure, cherishing it—cherishing her—with all the passion of desperation.

Once he'd turned her hair into a pile of lather, he let his soapy hand stroke lower, finding the long, delicate line of her neck, the fragile bone and flesh of her shoulders. His exploring fingers discovered delicate muscle drawn hard and knotted, so he dug in his thumbs there and began, carefully, to massage the tension away.

Erin drew in a deep breath and released it in a long, sensual purr. “God, I needed that.” She let her head drop back to rest on his shoulder. Lather slid from her hair to run down his spine in cool, fragrant dollops.

“You're tense,” he said, smoothing her soapy hair back with one hand as he continued the massage with the other.

“Yeah,” Erin admitted. “I'm scared of messing up. Scared of not being able to hack the transformation.” Her tone hardened. “But not scared enough to back out. Not with everything that's riding on it.”

He studied her, hearing the sincerity in her heartbeat. “You really were willing to use that knife, weren't you?”

BOOK: Master of the Night
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