Twilight's Possession - Burning Hunger Part 5

Kaden's eyes brightened. "Oh yes. The hunger. I'd like to say I'd forgotten about that minor issue but I'd be lying."

"So why not warn a guy? You love me, remember? It would've been nice to know...so I could prepare."

"Yeah, I love you, but that's beside the point." Kaden shrugged. "But really, there's no way to prepare for the hunger. Besides, it's kind of a tradition, let the newly bound mates find out for themselves."

"Some tradition." Marek rose to his feet and raised his fists in mock threat. "Speaking of traditions, are you in the mood for a little sport? I recall a tradition where a certain younger brother kicks his big brother's a.s.s. It's been awhile. Come on, you're itching for a beatin'-"

Voice unsteady with laughter, Kaden caught Marek square in the chest, sending him staggering backward. "Hey, what happened to respect?"

"I'll still respect you after I kick your a.s.s. I owe you a pounding or two...or ten." Marek led with a right jab that hit nothing but air next to Kaden's ear and then followed up with a left hook that almost caught him in the belly.

"For what?" Nearly doubled over with laughter, Kaden shook his head. "Look at you. I haven't seen you like this in centuries. It's the bloodl.u.s.t talking. Want me to call your mates to you so you can release some of that excess energy before you hurt someone? Like yourself."

Sobering, Marek grumbled, "Don't bother. I'll be heading home soon...well, I will as soon as you tell me why you called me here."

"Just wanted to check on you, see how you're doing."

A lie?

Kaden was never too busy to see Marek when he came to ask for advice, but he never summoned him. "How kind of you. Now tell me the truth."

"Honest. That's it."

So Kaden wasn't going to level with him? That was a first. Kaden had never lied to Marek, at least not that he'd known. Why now?

"Is something wrong?" Marek asked, probing for some clue.

"Nothing that you don't already know about. There's talk the rebels have the Triad. But I think that's a rumor. If they did, why haven't they used it yet?"

"Because they're spreading false rumors for some reason."

"Why?"

"I don't know. Maybe to gain more supporters?" Marek narrowed his eyes, focusing on the center of Kaden's forehead. What was that? A red smudge spoiled his brother's otherwise picture-perfect face. "What happened there? Get some of your lunch on yourself? Really, ever hear of a napkin?"

"What are you talking about?"

Marek motioned at the spot on Kaden's face. "There's something red..." He touched the spot and a bolt of searing heat blazed up his arm. Without thinking, he jerked backward, nearly throwing himself off balance. "What the f.u.c.k?"

The color instantly washed out of Kaden's face. "It's begun."

"What's begun?"

Kaden raised a trembling hand to his forehead, his fingertips exploring the red mark, which seemed to be growing before Marek's eyes. "We have our answer now. The rebels aren't spreading false rumors. They have the Triad. Which means we have until the new moon to get it from them."

Only six nights? The heart that had only recently begun beating, thanks to the blood-bond with Brea and Dayne, dropped to Marek's toes. He was staring his worst fear in the eyes. His brother would suffer an agonizing death, just as their father had so many centuries ago. Their only hope, Kaden's only hope-the Triad. "No."

Gone was the laughter. Kaden's voice was low, husky and heavy with fear. "It's up to you. No one else has been able to find it."

"I won't let you down." Marek charged from the throne room. "I'll get it. If it kills me."

Brea's insides were tangled into painful knots of agonizing need. Her head was foggy, like her brain had soaked in a vat of Absolut for a week.

Gone was the rage, the anger, the guilt, the frustration. In their place-desperate l.u.s.t.

So what if Marek had all but raped her earlier? So what if both Dayne and Marek had kidnapped her? So what if she was about to lose her job?

She wanted Dayne to f.u.c.k her. She wanted him so bad her whole body ached, even her teeth.

Made it mighty tough to say "no" to his question. Did she have the courage to let go of her fears? At this point, with her p.u.s.s.y burning to be filled, her nipples hardened points and her skin practically blistering under Dayne's fierce, nuclear-fusion-hot gaze, she was almost willing to do something crazy, like dance upon the shards of a broken mirror while holding a black cat.

"You've been waiting for a long time," he mumbled, his face buried in the crook of her neck. The tickle of his breath produced a coat of gooseflesh over one side of her upper body. His teeth grazed her skin.

Hot and cold at the same time, and s.h.i.+vering from both the emotions and sensations pummeling her insides, she sucked in a gulp of air. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

His response was not spoken, yet it drove his point home and silenced any arguments she might have thought to raise within the next few hours.

He smoothed a flattened hand down her torso and cupped her sodden l.a.b.i.a. His fingers left a trail of musk-scented dampness up her abdomen as he drew a line up to her bellyb.u.t.ton. Lifting his head and drilling her with a gaze that left her insides as soft as marshmallows sitting in the desert sun at high noon, he placed those very same fingers on her lips. "I could eat you all day you taste so good." His tongue slicked a damp trail over his adorable lower lip.

She mirrored him, tasting his fingers and the lingering flavor of her arousal. She parted her lips, pulling his fingertip into her mouth and swirling her tongue around its tip.

His mouth lifted into a seductive smile. "There's no crime in being a sensual woman, in knowing what you want and asking your lovers to give it to you."

Made sense to her, in her current pseudo-intoxicated state. Never before had she been basically rendered brain dead by s.e.xual overload, but there she was. Dead in the brain, oh yes. Her neurons were withering by the millions.

"Don't you agree?" he prodded when she didn't respond to his last statement. He punctuated his question with a little pinch of her nipple.

It hurt but in a good way, a very good way. Her back tensed, thrusting her b.r.e.a.s.t.s high in the air.

His eyes glittering, he smiled at her and pinched again. "I'll take that as a 'yes'."

She was incapable of correcting him, since her tongue was sort of glued to the roof of her mouth. No sense in trying anyway. It was complicated. He was right in a sense-there was nothing wrong with a woman knowing what she wanted and asking for it. But-and this was a big but-there was something wrong with a woman doing so with a virtual stranger who'd kidnapped her and was holding her hostage.

Now if only her body would get with the program and quit reacting to his every look, touch and word!

l.u.s.t was surging through her body in relentless waves, the crests growing closer and closer like the waters of a storm-tossed Pacific. The man was just so freaking gorgeous! It wasn't fair! Why oh why did things have to be like this? Why couldn't they have b.u.mped into each other at the library or Blockbuster Movies? Strike up a conversation about the second Pirates of the Caribbean and then head over to Starbucks to stare into each other's eyes and stumble through awkward first-date type of conversation over mocha lattes?

She'd known everything about her former lovers before they'd seen her naked. That was, until today. Until Marek had taken advantage of her altered state and seduced her out of her clothes somehow.

She wouldn't be able to live with herself if she let Dayne do the same thing. Two new lovers? In the span of a few hours? Ack!

She rooted around deep inside herself, desperate to find a morsel of her self-control. Gathering her strength and willpower, she started squirming beneath him again. Unfortunately, her efforts failed to produce the effect she'd expected.

Dayne's heavy breathing gusted her face. His neck, ears, cheeks turned a deep raspberry color. It would have been kind of cute, if she hadn't been painfully aware of the reason for his color change.

The reason was the suddenly hard, thick b.u.mp resting against her thigh.

As if she needed a clue, he blinked and growled.

The growl thing was also s.e.xy. Was there anything the man did that wasn't s.e.xy? He blinked s.e.xy. He smiled super-s.e.xy. He moved s.e.xy, muscles bulging and stretching.

She decided closing her eyes was a good idea. "Please get off me."

"I will if you can make me," he taunted playfully.

Ugh. He sounded like a silly schoolboy who'd just tackled her on the playground. Charming and mischievous.

Her insides melted even more. It was official now, she was going to get him off her or she was going to die trying. She ignored the fact that her insides were the consistency of soup and her willpower was almost completely pulverized as she struggled to worm out from under the two hundred plus pounds of drool-worthy male positioned above her.

Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s rubbed against his chest as she moved. The friction was delicious and decadent and sensual. The sensation produced some interesting effects between her legs.

A deep rumble vibrated from Dayne's chest. She felt it inside. In her stomach. Her empty p.u.s.s.y.

Would he just let her up?

Time for desperate measures, unfortunately.

She really did not relish what she was about to do.

She jerked, bending her knee so she'd catch him in the delicates. No man could take a direct shot in the t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es without being incapacitated for at least a few seconds. A well-placed kick could send even three hundred pounds of pure muscle to the ground for even longer.

As it turned out, Dayne was no exception.

The second her knee made contact, the air from his lungs gusted her face. He yelped then curled to the side, rolling off her.

Freedom. She did a log roll to the edge of the bed, but just as she was about to leap to the floor, a steely grip caught her wrist. He yanked her back roughly then positioned himself so she couldn't get a second shot, pinning her on the bed again.

"That. Wasn't. Nice."

"Neither is kidnapping someone, holding them hostage and forcing yourself on them with some kind of crazy mojo-"

"I wasn't forcing anything on you. And as far as Marek goes, he didn't either."

"I said 'no'. I said 'wait, stop'. Which makes what happened force in my book."

"What book is that?"

"The Brea Maguire book of law."

"Well then how about telling me what crime this qualifies for in the Brea Maguire book of law?" Still holding her to the bed with his knee, he bent down and whispered, "You said 'yes' after you said 'no'. And then you said a lot of other things. Would you like me to repeat them?"

Cool air caressed her skin but it did nothing to chill the l.u.s.t and the rage welling up inside her.

How dare he throw her own words back in her face! Clearly, they were doing something to her to make her react this way, and he knew it. If it wasn't drugs they were using, it was something else-hypnotism? Subliminal messages? Mind control? This wasn't like her. Period.

"b.a.s.t.a.r.d!" She fought with every bit of her strength, but he dodged her strikes so easily, she felt like she was a furious toddler attacking a world champ boxer. Within seconds she was worn out, not to mention so friggin' turned on she was tempted to spread her legs and beg him to quit playing and end her suffering.

A girl under the influence of hypnotism/mind control/whatever could only take so much teasing.

Yet the cautious side of her would never let her actually give in. No way!

"I have the perfect punishment. You won't be able to move a muscle when I'm through with you. Not even to blink an eye." He gathered her wrists in one of his fists and lifted his weight off her, moving carefully to restrict her range of movement while positioning her as he wanted-flat on her stomach, arms positioned in a wide vee, legs stretched apart. He produced black straps from somewhere and secured her wrists to the two ma.s.sive posts at the head of the bed without breaking a sweat. And, despite her kicking, did the same with her ankles.

Oh G.o.d, her lumpy, cottage-cheesy a.s.s was out there front and center in a fully illuminated room! Could she just die now?

She tried to see what the b.a.s.t.a.r.d was about to do next, but since he'd left the room, she could only guess. She supposed it would be stupid to think he was going to perhaps get himself a snack, maybe take a nap...or drop dead. Yeah, that was stupid all right.

She heard his footfalls within seconds as he stomped back into the room.

Every muscle in her body tensed. Her heart thumped against her breastbone so hard it hurt.

He stopped at the foot of the bed. "It's a shame you can't see what you're doing to yourself."

What the heck was he talking about?

Something landed on her head, blocking out all traces of light. Dark. Smothering. Terrifying.

Something else touched the sole of her foot. She tried to jerk it away but she couldn't. Tears of frustration and confusion burned her eyes. Not since that night with Steve had she felt so out of control. Sure, she could breathe okay. She could speak. But otherwise, he had her under his complete control. She couldn't scratch her nose if she wanted to.

Anger quickly morphed to irrational panic. In her head, she knew she was in no immediate physical danger. But that didn't stop her heart rate from kicking into supersonic speed, and her stomach from roiling like Mt. Vesuvius on a bad day. "Let me loose. Now."

"You're in no position to make any demands," he pointed out coolly.

Argh! She tossed her head back, trying to knock away the cover, and clamped her eyes closed. Bile burned her throat. Hot tears seeped from her eyes, running in salty rivulets down the sides of her nose. d.a.m.n it, she was through being tough. She was scared. f.u.c.king terrified.

Why were these guys doing this to her? She didn't ask for it this time. She didn't deserve this!

"Please."

He walked around the side of the bed and inched the blanket down, uncovering her head.

Light. Air. She gulped several deep breaths.

"What are you feeling? Does the danger thrill you like I thought it would?"

She turned her head, letting him see with his own eyes what her answer was.

His expression remained firm, yet his eyes softened a tiny bit.

Did he feel guilty?

"What are you feeling?" he repeated gently.

She narrowed her eyes at him. He knew the answer. Why ask? What kind of game was he playing? "What is this?" Her voice wavered, punctuating the effect of her watery eyes and sniffly nose.

His brows drew together. "What do you mean?"