Dark Needs at Night's Edge

36

He was seething.

Néomi felt as if she were sidling around an untamed animal—one wrong move could provoke it to attack.

Endeavoring not to reveal her dismay, she behaved as if nothing were amiss, readying for bed as usual. In the past, her feminine rituals had seemed to fascinate him, almost relaxing him. Maybe they would tonight.

She removed her jewelry, donned a nightgown and robe of crimson silk, and applied lotion to her hands and legs.

Taking a seat at her dresser, she raised her brush, glancing at him in the mirror. Usually he sat on the bed, rapt as she combed out her hair, as if awaiting his turn to run his fingers through it.

Now he was in his customary spot, but his expression was drawn. The weather outside seemed to mirror the turmoil she sensed inside him. The wind gusted all around the old manor, and the lightning was already dancing. Though the rain hadn't yet started, it would. Néomi knew fall was turning to winter in the bayou's unique way—with overnight deluges, as if to beat the lingering heat into submission and batter the clinging leaves from the trees.

"What do I have to do, Néomi?" He ran his hand over his wearied face. "Who do I have to kill to keep you? Tell me what to do, and it's done."

She turned to him. "Conrad, not again. I thought we settled this on the morning after the gathering."

"How could I forget about your conditions?" he asked, sneering the word. "Tell me your secret, damn you! Did you make some kind of deal with the devil? Why won't you marry me?"

He rose and crossed to her. With his broad shoulders back, every inch the officer, he said, "You might even now be carrying my babe. What if I refuse ever to let you go?"

"Let me go?" she asked softly. "I've been through that before."

"Don't you compare him to me!" Conrad pulled her up from her chair, then cupped the back of her neck. "There's a difference between keeping a woman who wants to be kept and one who doesn't."

"And you think I want to be kept?"

"You do. By me. You want me to make it so that we never part again."

She turned away, unable to deny it.

"So now I'm going to tell you how this will be with us." With a straightened arm, he swept the items from the dresser, setting her atop it. "You—are—mine. Nothing will change that."

He seemed on the very edge of control, and she felt her body already responding to his ferocity. "Body and soul—you're all mine." He was breathing heavily. And as soon as I kill the one I'm hunting, then you will wed me."

"What does Tarut have to do with us?"

"You know I bear the demon's mark." Conrad wedged his hips between her legs, forcing her gown to ride up. "You know that it won't heal until he's dead. But there's more to it. If I can't defeat him, then my most coveted dream and worst nightmare will come true. When you appeared that night at the gathering in flesh and blood—that was my dream."

"I-I was?"

He gave her a short nod. "My nightmare is that you die again."

"That's why you've hunted so relentlessly?" For her?

"And I'll continue to. But after that, Néomi, I vow to you, the second I rid my body of this mark... from that moment on you'll be more than my Bride—you'll be my wife."

Again a male was demanding that she marry him with a wild look in his eyes. But there were such differences this time.

Conrad would never hurt her. He would rather die.

And Néomi was just as crazed for him.

She knew her eyes were wild with wanting him, too. "Conrad... " She yearned so much to tell him everything. To tell him that she loved him, and that she was so selfish and greedy for him that she couldn't leave—even though she'd only end up hurting him. "It can't happen—"

Cutting off her words with his kiss, he groaned against her mouth and fisted his hands in her robe. Once he'd stripped it from her, he snatched the small case from his jacket and plucked the ring out. He seized her left hand and pressed the ring down her finger. "This shows my claim on you," he grated. "Take it off right now if you truly don't want to marry me."

The metal was hot like a brand, the ring fitting her perfectly. She could no more take it off than she could quit breathing.

"I want you, Néomi. Forever." Just before he took her lips again, he rasped, "Want me, too."

As his kiss deepened, he yanked up her gown to her waist. When he sensuously palmed her sex, she responded as if he'd lit a fuse, growing damp in a rush. Her hands were desperately seeking all over his body.

When she unzipped his pants and tugged free his rigid shaft, the broad head nudged against her entrance.

With his hand splayed over her chest, he pressed her back to the mirror. She drew her bent legs up, placing her heels on the edge of the dresser, as open for him as she could be. With a groan, he swooped his arms under her knees, then leaned forward.

Caging her in, surrounding her, he entered her body. Possessing her. "I feel you pulling away from me." With a long, hard stroke, he murmured, "Don't... "

He watched her expression, the emotion in her eyes. This is a good-bye. Even as he was inside her, she was telling him good-bye. And I don't even know why.

With everything he felt for her, he took her, driving between her thighs. His shaft throbbed within her tight sheath as he struggled not to come, wanting this to last forever.

The more she pulls away... He would never let her go. Never.

Take her... claim her completely. The last barrier between them. Conrad needed to bite her, to mark her, like an animal. He was the monster they all thought him.

No! He had to fight... had to overcome the instinct.

He felt his fangs sharpening. As his hips bucked, he found himself easing toward her pale neck, drawn to the hectic pulse he could see so clearly. Possess her completely. He licked her, preparing her.

Lost...

He pierced her tender skin; the sweetest flesh he'd ever tasted closed tight around his aching fangs. Was she moaning? He could feel the sound.

His eyes flashed open when he began sucking her, because God help her... he knew he'd do this again.

As her rich blood hit his tongue and slid down his throat like silk and wine, he groaned in ecstasy. Heat seared through his veins. Her heat. Her essence.

"Stop now." Her words were faint compared to the exquisite beating of her heart in his ears.

No. Want more. Sucking harder.

"You'll hurt me," she whispered.

Must have this.

"Conrad... "

With a will he hadn't known he possessed, he stopped taking. But he left his fangs in her flesh, growling against her damp skin as his seed erupted from his body in mind-numbing waves. Connection. Marked. Mine... .

When he drew back from her, he studied her face. Her cheeks were pinkened. He hadn't hurt her.

He'd bitten her. He'd taken her blood. And it had felt like it was supposed to happen. He'd heard her moaning. She'd taken pleasure from his bite. I didn't hurt her—

She burst into tears. With her bottom lip trembling, her eyes glittering, she whispered, "How could you, Conrad?" She raised her hand to slap him—the closest to fury he'd ever seen her.