Witch Blood

NINETEEN

ISABELLE BROKE THE KISS AND MOVED DOWN HIS throat, kissing, nipping, and licking. She worked her way down his chest, her warm, moist lips exploring every inch of his skin. When she reached his abdomen, she dragged her tongue down his flesh until she reached his cock. Isabelle gave him a single coy look and then engulfed the head of his shaft in her mouth. All his nerve endings shot to life. Thomas tipped his head back and groaned.

He threaded his fingers through her hair and fisted, stopping himself from thrusting gently into her mouth. Her ability to render him completely helpless with the swipe of her tongue always amazed him.

She moved over him while pulling the length of his cock into the warm, wet recesses of her mouth and skating her tongue up and down. Her hair brushed his thighs and made him jump. His balls felt ready to explode and pleasure tingled through his body, but when he went, he wanted to be buried deep inside her sex, not down her throat. He wanted to feel the evidence of her pleasure rippling around his cock before that happened.

“Isabelle.” It came out in an agonized-sounding groan.

She ignored him, glancing up at him once and then sucking his length between her lips once more. Isabelle swirled her tongue around the sensitive underside of the crown on her outward mouth stroke. Clearly, she meant business.

Thomas forced himself up from Shangri-la to seek heaven. He eased her off him and twisted, pinning her face down on his king size bed beneath him in one smooth movement.

Isabelle gasped into the blankets and mattress. “Your knee!”

He hovered over her and spread her thighs. “Hardly noticed it. You’re the best kind of painkiller.” He dragged his fingers over her sex and she wiggled beneath him.

Isabelle raised her hips, fitting her sweet ass against his groin and arching the smooth slope of her back. Placing a hand to the curve of her hip, he leaned over to lick and nibble his way down her spine. She turned her head to the side and he watched her tongue steal out to wet her lips, her eyes closed and her long, dark eyelashes swept down on her passion-rosy cheeks.

Her fingers fisted in the covers on either side of her and she moved her hips, looking for a way to slide his cock inside her. Thomas slipped his hand between the mattress and her stomach, seeking and finding that hot place where she wanted to be touched. Finding her clit, he rubbed it with his index finger. She gasped and moaned into the blankets.

She tried to push up, but he kept her pinned there as he caressed her into a thrashing frenzy, but stopped just short of making her come. Then he slipped two fingers into her warm, wet heat and pumped. Isabelle moved her hips in time to his thrusts, an action that almost made him lose his mind.

Embracing his sudden and feral need to claim her, Thomas forced her thighs apart and grasped her hips, pulling her upward to impale her on his cock. In one smooth move, he set the head of his shaft to her entrance and thrust inside, seating himself to the base in all that wet heat.

She arched her back, grabbing fistfuls of blanket. Her breath came out in a gasp, then a moan.

At the same time, Thomas dropped down over her back and sank his teeth into the nape of her neck as he began to ride her.

Isabelle exploded in climax beneath him, the muscles of her sex clenching and releasing around his cock. She panted and thrashed, moving on his thrusting shaft. Thomas fought not to come. He wanted this to last.

Thomas threw his head back, his hair falling around them both as he pumped into her harder and faster. They probably had the appearance of one animal with no beginning or end as they moved together on the bed. She pressed up against him, gaining leverage with her knees and hands so she could push back against him, meeting his thrusts into her sweet body.

Thomas let his hand play around her now exposed front, running over her stomach, teasing her nipples and cupping her breasts.

“I’m coming again,” she gasped. Isabelle shuddered beneath him as another climax drove through her. This time Thomas let go, too. Pleasure exploded from the depths of him and poured into her.

They collapsed in a tangle on the mattress, each wrapped up in the other. His cock pulled from her body as she moved and he felt the loss of that connection. He dragged her against him and she tucked her head under his chin.

“I’m not letting you go, Isabelle,” he murmured into the top of her head.

She stiffened against him. “You’re going to have to.” Her voice sounded flat, expressionless.

Thomas lay still for a moment before speaking. “I want you and I always get what I want.”

He’d expected her to get angry at the arrogance of his comment — even though he meant every word. Instead, she rolled to the side and laughed. Idly, she picked up a length of his hair and wound it around her finger. “The world has winds, Thomas. Sometimes they blow us where we don’t want to go.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She shrugged and unwound the tendril of his hair. “Whatever you want it to mean. How’s your knee?”

“Hurts like a motherfucker. What we just did wasn’t ordered in my physical therapy.” His knee would be healed soon anyway. A few good sessions with the Coven fire witches would see it improved in a matter of days.

“A good soak in that massive bathtub would probably make it feel better.”

“That’s a hint, isn’t it? I still smell like mud, blood, and demon, right?”

She propped herself up on her elbow and grinned. “Well, yes, but it’s true that water makes everything feel better.”

“Maybe, but I don’t want to move.”

She rolled off the bed and he got an excellent view of her lovely heart-shaped rear as she disappeared into the bathroom. A moment later he heard water filling his sunken spa tub.

He propped himself up on the pillows just in time to see one of Isabelle’s lithe legs appear around the side of door frame. She slowly dragged her heel up the wood…and Thomas was up and out of bed in a flash, twisted knee bedamned.

As soon as she heard him coming, Isabelle scampered into the water, which she’d filled with bubble bath. He gaped at the lavender-and rose-scented mountain of foam. It smelled like a rainbow had puked. “Where the hell did you find that stuff?”

“It was hidden in the back of one of your cabinets.”

She stood and Thomas raked his gaze over her — pink nipples peeking from the white froth, bubbles sliding down her legs.

Revising his opinion of the fragrant froth, he limped to the tub. “Thank the Lord and Lady.”

ISABELLE ACCEPTED A SMALL VIAL OF A METALLIC substance from Micah and held it up to the light. The fluid within looked like liquid gold. “It’s charmed copper, you said?”

Micah nodded and took the vial back from her. He gestured at Thomas who stood nearby, his arms crossed over his chest. “We had Thomas and a group of our best Coven earth witches work on a special blend of magick that will keep small amounts of copper in a liquefied form. We don’t have much of it, unfortunately.”

She turned to stare at Thomas. “How are you able to do this?”

He uncrossed his arms. “It wasn’t easy. The only way we were able to do it all is because copper comes from copper ore and occasionally from crystal chunks, both a part of the Earth originally. That makes it much easier for us. It took a while but we were able to develop an earth charm that keeps it liquid in very limited quantities.”

“So you’re hoping that getting it into Boyle’s bloodstream will cause a massive reaction and kill him?”

“That’s the general plan,” answered Micah. He paused and pursed his lips. “Of course it may be like a bee stinging a bull, too. We might just piss him off.”

Isabelle gritted her teeth, thinking of the little girl. “I’m more than willing to take a shot and find out. What’s the method of delivery?”

Micah turned to a table where various implements lay. “Like I said, we don’t have much liquid copper.” He picked up something that looked like a semiautomatic handgun. “We have a couple of these stun guns, loaded with hollow bullets filled with it. That’s about it.”

She took the gun from him and examined it. “Explain to me why we can’t make more liquid copper.”

“Because in order to make the charm, we need francium,” Thomas answered.

Isabelle lifted a brow in question. “And this francium person can’t come to the charm-making party or what?”

Micah rolled his eyes. “Francium is a very rare naturally occurring element. It’s not like you can order vats of it over the Internet.”

“Okay, sorry for not getting straight A’s in francium class. I just wondered if you had enough left to make me up a syringe.” She held her forefinger and thumb close together. “Just a little?”

Thomas took the stun gun back from her and set it on the table. “Do you plan on getting that close to him? Because I don’t like that idea.”

“The thing is…who knows how close we’ll get? I’ve already been way closer to Boyle than I wanted to be twice. If we had syringes, maybe it could be a backup plan. A little something for just in case.”

Thomas rubbed his chin. “I’ll see what I can do. I don’t think we’ll be able to make enough for everyone, but I might be able to make enough just for you. I still want you to carry a gun, but the syringe you can carry in case of an emergency.”

“Thank you.”

He held her gaze. “Anything to keep you safe.”

A smile spread across her mouth.

Micah made a gagging sound. “I’m leaving before I puke. Anyway, I need to brief Adam, Jack, and the others about the new weapons.”

Thomas tore his gaze from hers to glance at his cousin. “We troll again tonight. Meet at the front doors at twilight.”

“I’m going.” There wasn’t any liquid copper in Isabelle’s voice when she said those words. It was all solid steel.

Thomas’s big body stiffened. “Isabelle.” Her name sounded like the snap of a whip.

“Uh, oh. I’m outta here.” Micah gathered a few things from the table and left the room.

“Please, Thomas, I don’t want to fight. You know you’re going to have to tie me up to keep me from going and as much as I think you’d like to do that — and I might like it, too — I don’t think you will. Just admit defeat now.”

Sighing, Thomas pushed a hand through his hair. “The fact is I want to keep you safe. The problem is I don’t know where safe is anymore, not with Boyle being able to enter and leave the Coven at will.”

Ah, ha! Victory! She made sure her voice was soft when she replied, “Exactly, so there’s no reason to fight with me in order to force me to stay here. All it does is sow discord between us.”

Thomas’s jaw locked and he closed his eyes briefly. “I’m going to make more liquid copper…if I can.” He turned and stalked away, still limping.

Isabelle watched him go, the smile fading from her lips. The man really did care about her. For the first time in her life she had the beginnings of an actual relationship with someone other than her sister…and it was wonderful.

Too bad it couldn’t last.

THOMAS VELCROED HIMSELF TO HER SIDE ALL NIGHT.

She rounded on him as they entered their fifth stop, The Black Cauldron, a popular nightclub for witches. It was somewhere they thought Boyle might be apt to frequent. “Look, if we meet up with the demon tonight, it will be me protecting you. You’re the one with the injury. Please back off and give me some space.”

Jack, Adam, Theo, Micah, and the other witches in their particular traveling party — Thomas had sent out several to search — had entered the recesses of the club, disappearing into the crush of the mostly witch crowd. The press of emotion and magick made Isabelle edgy because of the circumstances and she instantly regretted the harsh way she’d spoken to him.

Thomas turned and loomed over her, his face shadowed in the dim, pulsing light of the place. Suddenly that face she knew so well looked dangerous. He grasped her wrists and pushed her backward, making the other patrons move out of their way until she felt the press of a railing against her back. The man liked to trap her against things.

He lowered his mouth to hers and his breath teased her lips, warming her skin. His hand moved to the small of her back, pushing under the fabric of her V-neck black T-shirt. “No.” His lips moved on hers as he growled the word. “Simple enough for you?”

His scent filled her nose, blocking out the slightly smoky, unwashed body smell of the club and replacing it with Thomas—clean soap, citrusy aftershave, and the inherent, indescribable scent of man.

Irritation flashed through her, hard and hot, but it was quickly followed by total desire. She’d never in her life had such a strong sexual reaction to a man the way she had to Thomas. It was pheromones, or something. Maybe it was just flat-out lust.

She pushed up on her tiptoes and pressed her mouth to his, parting his lips and pushing her tongue within to swipe. Isabelle felt more than heard the rumble that went through his body. He pulled her up against his chest and she gripped his shoulders as he plunged his tongue into her mouth like he wanted to consume her.

The people around them ceased to matter. They disappeared as far as she was concerned. Thomas pissed her off, it was true. He was protective to a fault. Yet it was nice to be cared about.

He moved, unbuttoning and unzipping her jeans and then sliding his hand down to stroke his finger over her clit through the material of her panties. She gasped into his mouth and her eyes rolled back into her head at the pleasure that rippled through her body. Isabelle moved her hips, grinding down against his hand for more of the exquisite sensation. Her sex warmed.

Lord and Lady, it was like she’d entered some kind of animalistic heat. All she wanted was for her jeans and panties to be off, for his thick cock to be moving deep inside her. The bathroom, maybe…anywhere would do…

“I need you,” she whispered shakily against his lips. In so many ways. She wished like hell she could tell him how much.

“You need me to what? You need me to fuck you?”

She bit her lower lip at his base words. They excited her almost as much as the slow glide of his finger over the bundle of nerves between her thighs. Her underwear was wet from it and her clit pulsed, aroused and plumped.

She couldn’t reply. I need you to make love to me. I need you to tell me you care about me. I just need you, Thomas.

“I need to feel you come, Isabelle,” he groaned. “Right here. Right now.” He moved the elastic of her panties to the side and dragged his fingers over her bared sex.

Her eyelids fluttered open to see a man nearby staring at her hungrily. Did he see what Thomas was doing to her right now? How could he in this dim light, in this great crush of people that made everything anonymous? Then Thomas pushed his fingers inside her and all those concerns ceased to matter.

He buried his face in the curve of her throat, licking, kissing, and nipping at her with his teeth. Her mind flashed back to the way he’d made love to her the morning before — how he’d pushed her facedown on the bed and taken her from behind like some feral animal. How he’d sunk his teeth into the nape of her neck just hard enough to force her to climax.

Thomas ground his palm against her clit and dragged his finger over her G-spot deep inside her. “Come on, baby,” he growled into her ear a moment before he pulled her lobe between his teeth.

Her orgasm washed over her so fast and so strong all she could do was let out a sob of release. She felt a rush of moisture between her thighs as the pleasure slammed into her, wiping away every last coherent thought in her brain and making her knees go weak.

Thomas held her up and she splayed a hand behind her, fingers gaining purchase around one of the railings he’d pressed her up against. The fact that they poked in her back uncomfortably barely registered.

Once the ripples of her climax had eased and she hung there, breathing heavy, all dazed and confused, he zipped and buttoned her jeans once more. He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “I hope that addressed your concern fully. You know, that one about me keeping my distance? Not happening.”

He stared at her a moment longer, then turned and melted into the crowd.

Isabelle stood there stunned, too passion-slackened to think clearly. Then his arrogance hit her full force and annoyance bloomed. Pissed off once again, she peeled herself from the railing and headed after him, but someone yanked her back…hard.

Isabelle turned, half expecting to see the man who’d been staring at her before…but it was Boyle. Adrenaline spiked, sending a jolt of shock and primal fear shooting through her veins. How the hell had he appeared right there all of a sudden?

She heard Thomas call her name in the crush of people up ahead. Through the crowd, she saw the top of his head as he headed back for her. Ironically, he’d kept his distance after all, for about two seconds.

Apparently, that’s all the demon had needed.

She opened her mouth to scream Thomas’s name out of pure involuntary reaction, but Boyle clamped a hand over her mouth and dragged her to the left, toward the door.