Taken by Moonlight (10 page)

No, he
wouldn’t
. She knew
that. Sensed that he wouldn’t hurt her. Still….

Clearing
her throat, she turned to face him. His eyes were on the road, as they should
be. “Look, Mr. Athelwulf, maybe this isn’t such a great idea…I’m not
like…erm—this is a bit too fast….”

“Conall.”
He corrected her easily, turning briefly to give her a quick, but intense
glance.

She nodded.
Of course it was. What had she been thinking, speaking so formally after the
things he’d done to her in the elevator? She clenched her legs together, only
to wish she hadn’t. The friction reminded her of how his fingers had felt
against her. She moaned softly, and sent a look over to him, wondering if he’d
heard. He gave no indication of it.

Vivienne
was preparing to continue where she’d left off, trying to convince him to let
her out of the car—and convince herself that she actually wanted him to do
so—when they rolled to a stop before a valet dressed from head to toe in red
and gold livery.

Conall
turned to look at her, caught the question in her eyes and said nonchalantly,
“The Waldorf. It’s closer.”

With that,
he stepped from the car. She watched as he strode around the front and opened
her door. He took her hand and she inhaled, feeling the electricity that seemed
to pour from his skin to hers.

The walk to
the suite was a blur of images and sounds. Vivienne didn’t see the curious
gazes as they moved past hotel guests who were either leaving or entering. They
cut quite a stark contrast, him white and dressed in the most expensive of
clothing, and her black and dressed as carelessly as she was. Conall paused for
a moment to talk to the hotel manager, and once presented with a key, he used
it to open the door to one of the most beautiful suites she had ever seen. She
barely had time to take in the magnificence of the room before he pulled her to
him.

His hand
moved to her hair, removing the clip that kept it off her back. As it fell from
his hands, so did her hair. Tightly wound curls fell to the top of her back,
and he ran his hand over and through them, admiring the different texture even
as his lips claimed hers.

It was
right then, in that moment, that Vivienne decided she would have make do with
the fact that she knew his name and where he worked. That had to count for
something. At least he wasn’t a
complete
stranger. Her hands slid around
his waist, and she moved into his body, feeling the rippling muscles beneath
the expensive suit. As his tongue licked at hers and fire consumed her, Vivienne
moved her hands to his jacket. Instinct drove her to excel in something she’d
never done before, remove a man’s clothes.

From the
way his eyes glowed, Vivienne could see that he was surprised at her boldness.
It was unexpected, she guessed, her being a virgin, but his surprise lasted
mere seconds. She’d barely pushed his jacket off, before he quickly stripped
her and lifted her.

Vivienne
gasped and locked her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck. She knew
he was strong, but she was heavier than she looked. Still, she remembered that
he’d carried her the first time they met. As his hand slid along her bare thigh
then up her back, she tightened her grip on his neck. Leaning down, she gently
nipped at his bottom lip, and was rewarded with a deep moan, before she kissed
him fiercely. Conall did not break the kiss as he carried her across the large,
spacious living room, and into the bedroom, where he followed her down to the
massive bed.

He lifted
off of her slightly, to capture his weight on his hands, and Vivienne began to
frantically tug at his tie. The man was still dressed while she was in her
underwear. It was not fair. She wanted to see him naked, wanted to run her
hands along taut skin and underlying muscle, and…she wanted to taste him. That
thought sent delicious shivers down her body. She tossed the tie to one side of
the bed and he captured her lips. Moaning, she shifted up against him, grinding
against the hardness still encased in his pants.

Vivienne
turned her head away from the kiss, and pushed at his shoulders. She began to
work at the crisp, white shirt, unbuttoning it, and then pushing it from his
broad shoulders.

A gasp
escaped her as she stared at the solid mass of his chest. Sinewy, beautifully
sculpted, and what a magnificent tattoo. It covered half of his chest and most
of his arm, inch-wide curved lines of black ink, which seemed to begin at his
upper arm and spiral downward, almost like a sleeve, before branching out onto
his chest. Vivienne had never found guys with tattoos particularly attractive,
but there was something about his tattoo that seemed natural, like it wasn’t
just art, but an extension of him. She reached out with a finger and traced the
lines, wondering what they symbolized. Under her touch, she felt him tense. His
eyes closed, and his breaths came fast. A wicked smile touched her lips as she
pushed onto an elbow and ran her tongue over his flat nipple. Should any man
taste so good?

Before she
knew what was happening, Vivienne was once more pinned to the bed and her bra
was being removed and tossed. When Conall kissed her again, her body erupted
into flames and she grabbed the back of his head. The hardness of his chest
crushed her breasts, and his hips nestled directly between her spread legs. His
lips moved down her neck, licking and sucking at pleasure points, before making
their way to her nipples.

“Oh my Go—”
She ended on a loud groan as his tongue flicked rapidly over her nipple before
circling the peak, and then lightly nipping at it. He licked down the valley of
her breasts to her navel, where he circled the little indentation. The bed
shifted, and she opened her eyes. He was standing at the foot of the bed, his
features harsh and controlled.

“Conall,”
she began, shifting her hips at him and fully prepared to do whatever was
necessary to get him back into the bed.

A squeal
escaped her lips when his large hand locked onto her ankle and pulled. She slid
down the bed. Conall pulled once more, until her hips were at the bed’s edge
and she was spread before him like a delectable feast.

His eyes
held hers as he palmed her. Biting her lip, she arched into his hand, her
breasts rising high on her chest. He tucked his fingers into the flimsy
panties, and pulled them from her body, exposing her glistening sex. Perfect.

Kneeling
for better access, he put his face forward, inhaling the very essence of her
being as a pounding began in the base of his skull. Once more, his beast rose
to the surface, demanding release. Fuck! He’d thought he would be able to control
it.

The first
touch of his tongue to her slit sent her spiraling into orgasm. Conall growled
low as he felt the rapid pulsations. He hadn’t even started. Pushing her legs
farther apart, he attacked her with a ravenous vengeance. He’d never wanted any
woman this much. He couldn’t get enough of her taste, of her scent. As it was,
his own scent rode high on the air, higher than usual, as he prepared to make
her his.

Coming down
from her last orgasm, Vivienne watched, dazed, as Conall turned away from her
and pushed his pants and boxers down in a fluid motion. Even in her state of
satiaety, she felt her mouth water as she stared at his muscular back, tight
buttocks, and toned legs. His body was a work of art, better than the David
statute everyone identified with perfection. The tattoo, which also curved
around one half of his back, only made him more museum-worthy.

And then he
turned around. Vivienne pushed herself onto her elbow to stare in wide-eyed
fascination at the thing springing up from a nest of black hair at his thighs.

Is it
supposed to be that big?

Between the
era of the Internet and Drew’s curiosity about the male anatomy, Vivienne had
seen a few penises before. From Cosmo and other magazines, she knew that six to
eight inches when erect was normal. She also knew for
certain
that
Conall was definitely over that size range.

As she
stared, it seemed to grow even larger. For the first time since she’d entered
the suite, panic erupted in her mind. He wouldn’t fit!

Suddenly,
the lights went out and darkness greeted her, obscuring her vision.

“Conall,”
she began, her voice small with fear. “What happened to the lights?

Hands were
suddenly under her armpits, pulling her farther up the bed, to the center of
the large mattress. She blinked rapidly, trying to get her eyes to adjust to
the darkness.

“I turned
them off.”

“Why?”
Vivienne wasn’t particularly afraid of the dark in the traditional sense of the
word. She slept with the lights out, and at times, sat in the darkness and let
her mind wander but being in the darkness with someone else, with Conall,
unnerved her.

Conall
heard the plea in her voice and ignored it. Vivienne was a human virgin, and he
was part animal, quite literally. She’d already panicked at seeing his size and
he would grow even larger. A slight pang of guilt went through him as he saw
her face in the darkness, her eyes darting about as she tried to see him.

He traced a
finger across her lips, comforting her, as the other reached down to capture a
soft breast. She moaned, her lips parting slightly, and her tongue darted out
to lick at his finger.

“I want to
see you, Conall.”

Fluidly, he
leapt over her, nudging her thighs apart and settling between them. His hands
went to her face as he leaned down and kissed her lips.

“I would
rather kill myself than hurt you. Do you believe me?”

She
hesitated for a few seconds before she nodded. She didn’t know why but instinct
told her to trust him. “You have nothing to fear from the darkness, Vivienne.
Nothing to fear from me,” he murmured against her lips. As his tongue caressed
hers, she completely forgot they were completely cloaked in darkness. Her short
nails dragged along his skin as she clutched at him, arching into the hard
length that nudged against her center.

Conall growled,
burying his face in her neck. She whimpered as he sucked at neck, and cried out
when a long finger slid into her once more. Her hips rose off of the bed to
meet it as it moved within her. He inserted another and she whimpered as her
walls stretched to accommodate it.

That’s
it, Vivienne. Just like that
.
His voice was husky as his fingers prepared her for his invasion.

Vivienne
was approaching another orgasm when his fingers slipped free. Her nails dug
fiercely into his back. “No, please—Conall…?”

She halted
when something much larger and harder pressed against her. Her eyes widened and
she moaned again as he rubbed his thick length along her slit, teasing her
mercilessly. Her hand slid into his hair. He growled low. Conall knew he must
sound wild, but Vivienne didn’t seem to care. She pulled his head down to hers
once more.

Conall had
been swiftly losing control to the animal from the moment he’d touched her, but
at the very end of the tightrope he held on to his control. As he positioned
himself at the very place he wanted to be buried, he thought of the best way
not to hurt her.

Merging his
mind and emotions with hers, he surged forward, impaling her on his length.

A cry tore
from her lips and she jerked back. Through their mental connection, Conall
briefly felt the stifling pain, before she began to feel his pleasure. The rush
had her moaning, arching against him, wanting even more. He slid deeper, and
through her panting, she smiled in the darkness.

God,
this is even better than chocolate
….

Conall
might have chuckled at the compliment, but for the fact that he was finally
sheathed inside of her. She felt better than he’d imagined, and he held himself
still for a few seconds, allowing the scent pouring off of him to creep into
her. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembered that werewolves were not
supposed to mark or mate humans, but as far gone as he was, he was beyond
caring.

He began to
move, pulling back slowly only to slide deep at the same pace. She was so wet,
so ready for him, that despite her tightness, he moved inside with a fluidity
that clearly spoke to her being made to fit him. Reaching down, he grabbed a
leg and pushed it out to the side before raising it by the knee. Another inch
of him slipped into her body, and she cried out. It was all pleasure. He moved
faster, quickening his pace as he pushed her toward another orgasm. She arched
off of the bed as she came, and collapsed right after, sweaty and worn out.

Conall was
not finished. He pulled from her body, his keen eyes recognizing the slickness
of her juices coating him, and easily flipped her onto her belly. Reaching
under her, he lifted her until she was upright on her knees before him.
Vivienne whimpered, leaning her head back against his shoulder.

Tired.
No. Too tired.
So
tired she hadn’t bothered to speak aloud.