Hour of Darkness Page 15

  Ah, Christ. He couldn’t even pretend he had the patience to take his time.

  He slid her panties off her hips, then reached into the wet, silken heat between her thighs. “Fuck, you’re drenched. So ready for me.”

  “Yes. Oh, God, yes.”

  She shuddered as he stroked her velvety folds and the tight bundle of nerves nestled above them. When he penetrated her with his finger, her moan and the greedy clench of her tiny muscles around him was more than he could bear.

  He brought her to the bed and she lay back on the mattress, watching him with rapt attention as he stripped off her bra and panties then made quick work of his own clothing. She was so beautiful, spread before him like a feast. He sank down between her open thighs, unable to resist running his tongue over the glistening folds of her sex. She squirmed against his face, her hips bucking as he cleaved deep into her core and lapped hungrily at her juices. She shattered on a strangled scream, his name spilling through her parted lips like a prayer.

  “I can’t stop wanting you,” he rasped, his cock on the verge of exploding now.

  He needed blood to sustain him, but he had never known a craving like the one he had for this female. For the taste of her desire.

  Possessiveness swamped him, too intense to be contained.

  He tore his mouth away from her on a snarl and pushed her legs wide as he rose between them. He pushed inside her on a grunt and a hard thrust that sent him deep into the hot, wet fist of her body. She clutched his shoulders, wrapping her thighs around him with her ankles locked above his ass as he pounded into her at a ferocity and tempo he couldn’t control if he tried.

  His release bore down on him like a hurricane. When it hit, he threw his head back and roared her name as the bolt of pleasure ripped through the center of him, scalding and unstoppable. Marina’s climax broke over her at the same time. She bowed beneath him on a breathless shout, the sudden arch of her spine seating him impossibly deeper inside her.

  Cain rolled to his side and brought her with him, still sheathed in her heat and moving slowly now, easing them both back to Earth. For long moments, the only sounds in the room were the mingled rush of their breathing and the thundering hammer of their heartbeats.

  When he opened his eyes, he found Marina staring at him. The tenderness in her eyes—the open affection—made it hard for him to find his voice. “Looking at me like that is going to get you nothing but trouble.”

  She smiled and dropped a kiss on his chin. “Is that a promise or a threat?”

  “Both.” He pressed his palms against the curve of her backside, pulling her into his slow, deep thrust. “Fuck, you feel good wrapped around my cock.”

  “You feel incredible inside me, Cain.” She made a pleasured sound that only ratcheted up his arousal. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than right here.”

  He groaned. “Now that we’re both in need of another shower, eventually, I’ll have to let you out of bed.”

  “Eventually,” she murmured, brushing her fingers into his hair as she moved her hips into his. “But not yet.”

  He grunted in agreement. “No. Not yet.”

  Smoothing his hand onto the underside of her thigh, he bent her knee and lifted her leg higher, giving him access to plunge even deeper into the hot, wet haven of her body. He kept his strokes slow and measured, savoring the unrushed pace.

  He’d have time to chase the roar of another hard release for both of them. Right now, he was more interested in holding her against him for a while.

  With her leg draped over his side, he grazed his fingers along the tattooed vine and delicate flowers that snaked up the length of her gorgeous limb. “These roses were the reason I stopped to look at you on my balcony that night in Miami.”

  She smiled, a note of surprise in her burgundy gaze. “They were?”

  He nodded. “The unusual tattoos, and the fact that the woman they belonged to was just about the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.” He traced the petals of one blood-red bloom on her thigh, then followed the thorny vine to the next flower on her hip. “Why roses?”

  “They’ve always been my favorite flower. They were my mom’s favorite too.”

  “So, they’re a tribute to her?”

  “I suppose they are. They remind me of her. But the first one I got, the one on my ankle, was done at Uncle Anatoly’s suggestion.”

  “The rose that conceals your Breedmate mark?” Cain frowned. “He wanted you to do that? Why?”

  “He said he felt I would be better off if no one knew I had the mark. He forbade me to acknowledge that part of who I was. He believed I would be happier living as an ordinary person.”

  “Ordinary?” Cain scoffed as he stroked her cheek and rocked his hips against her. “That’s something you could never be, with or without your mark.”

  “Well, he worried for me, so I did what he asked. After the first tattoo, I started adding a new one every year. I’m not even sure why anymore. I felt some need to mark time, as though I were waiting for something.” Her eyes softened on Cain’s. “Or waiting for someone.”

  He shouldn’t feel the punch of satisfaction at those tender words. If Marina was waiting for anyone, she sure as hell deserved a better man than him. But that didn’t stop him from cradling her lovely face in his hands and kissing her as though he never wanted to let her go.

  When he finally released her, Marina moaned. Her desire-drenched eyes made everything male in him spike with dark, hot need.

  “Maybe your uncle had a point, trying to keep you sheltered in his world. It’s hard for me to disapprove if he only wanted to prevent you from running into a bastard like me.”

  She shook her head. “If not for you, I wouldn’t be alive.”

  “Christ, don’t remind me.” He stilled, his blood ran cold just to think about it. Especially when she was far from safe, even now.

  As long as she was carrying that data drive for her uncle she would have a target on her back. And for as long as Cain allowed Yury’s sniper comrade to continue breathing.

  As much as he was enjoying having her naked in his arms, the Hunter in him was itching to be let loose to do what he did best.

  He caressed her shoulder and resumed moving at an easy pace inside her heat. “If your uncle really wanted to keep you safe, he should’ve let you grow up in a Darkhaven. Better that than raising you among the Bratva.”

  “Perhaps. But I was his sister’s only child. As much as he disapproved of her choices, he only treated me with kindness. Except for one time . . . and that was completely my fault.”

  Cain grunted. “When you were grounded for trying to use your ability to get a bratty Breed kid in trouble at the symphony?”

  She looked up at him in surprise. “I didn’t think you were paying attention to any of my rambling that night.”

  He stroked the tip of her nose. “I’ve listened to every word you’ve said.”

  “Is that right?” At his sober nod, she gave him a cryptic little smile. “I was in a lot of trouble with him that day, but the incident I’m talking about happened a few years later. That was the first—and only—time I used my ability on Uncle Anatoly.”

  “Ah. I don’t imagine that went over well.”

  “No.” Her voice turned quiet, regretful.

  “What happened?” He caressed her shoulder, waiting for her to explain.

  “As a teen, I fell in love with horses. I rode every chance I could get, and eventually I began competing. I did that for several years, and actually got quite good.”

  Cain recalled Razor mentioning some of Marina’s equestrian awards that first night he dug into her background for him. Sensing the darker turn in their conversation, he withdrew from her and gathered her into the shelter of his arms. “Tell me what happened with your uncle.”

  She sighed. “There was a horse I wanted desperately. He was a proven champion already, and ridiculously expensive. Uncle Anatoly rarely refused me anything I wanted, but this time he said no. I was u
pset, and very spoiled. So, when we were visiting the farm where the horse was stabled, I bent my uncle’s will and compelled him to buy it for me.”

  Cain frowned. “He didn’t know what you had done?”

  “Not for a while. I don’t know when he started to realize I had done more than talk him into it. We had the horse for about a week, and then one day I came home from class and Uncle Anatoly was waiting. He pulled me aside and told me he knew what I’d done. That I had betrayed his trust. I’d never seen him so furious. He forbade me to ever use my ability again. I promised him I wouldn’t. I felt awful for disappointing him.”

  “You were a kid,” Cain pointed out. “And he was asking you to reject something that’s as much a part of you as breathing.”

  “But he was right. I had betrayed his trust. And no one does that to Anatoly Moretskov without paying a price.”

  “What kind of price?” Cain’s jaw clenched. God help him, if she said her uncle lashed out at her physically, he might still decide to kill the son of a bitch. “Did he hurt you?”

  “If you’re asking if he struck me, the answer is no.” She took a breath, then let it out on a shaky exhalation. “He’s never raised his hand to me.”

  “Then what, Marina?”

  “When he was finished talking to me, he brought me out to the stables where the veterinarian was waiting. Uncle Anatoly told me he couldn’t let me keep the horse after what I’d done. I thought he meant he was giving him away.” She paused a moment, then pushed on. “He ordered the veterinarian to euthanize my horse. He made me stay there the whole time, until it was done.”

  “Jesus Christ.” Outrage poured through him. “What kind of fucking monster—”

  “No. It was my fault.” She closed her eyes and slowly shook her head. “I don’t blame him. I blame myself. Manipulating him with my ability was wrong. His punishment hurt, but it was a long time ago. I’ve shed my tears.”

  “And you forgave him?”

  “That took some time,” she admitted quietly, pain still shadowing her beautiful face.

  “Come here.” Cain shifted so he could hold her closer.

  Lowering her leg, he pulled her against him until there was no space between them on the bed. Nothing but skin on skin everywhere their bodies touched.

  “I’m sorry you went through that. All of it. Including your uncle’s inability to accept who you truly are. You’re a Breedmate, Marina. You will never be ordinary.” He caressed her cheek, fumbling for the words he wanted to tell her. Promises he had no right to make. “If I were a better man, I would do everything I could to make you see that. If I were a better man, I’d . . . fuck.”

  He shook his head on a curse, realizing only now how fast he was falling for her. How deeply she affected him after only a handful of time together. He cared about this woman with an intensity unlike anything he’d ever known. It staggered him, humbled him.

  And he couldn’t deny that those feelings also filled him with dread.

  All these years, he’d been so careful not to let down his guard. No emotional attachments. No complications. No fear of failing someone when it mattered most, because no one had been permitted to mean anything to him.

  It had been easy until Marina.

  And yet nothing was easier than holding her naked in his arms.

  Her fingers tangled at his nape, her eyes tender on him, but smoldering. “Do you know what I wish?”

  “Tell me.”

  A sexy little smile played at the edges of her mouth. “I wish I could make my ability work on you. I’d use it to make you stay inside me for the rest of the day.”

  He didn’t even try to curb the low, approving growl that leaked out of him in reply. “Baby, I don’t need any convincing to go along with that plan.”

  “You don’t?”

  His cock surged against her belly, beyond ready for duty. “What do you think?”

  She laughed softly, but her humor melted into a throaty sigh as he entered her. They moved together in silence, settling into an easy, but building rhythm. Cain rocked into her with deep, hungry strokes, addicted to her pleasure.

  She gasped his name and tilted her hips to meet his thrusts, color blooming across her throat and the pretty tops of her breasts as she climbed toward release. He would never tire of seeing her shatter for him, each shudder and sigh like a drug to his senses. “That’s it, baby. God, you’re so fucking beautiful when you come.”

  He slowed his tempo only to prolong her orgasm, yet nowhere close to showing her any mercy. She wanted him inside her for the rest of the day and he was more than willing to oblige.

  “Oh, God, Cain. You feel so good. I wish we could stay like this forever.”

  Selfish bastard that he was, he wanted that too. For now, he contented himself with watching her break apart in his embrace. His name boiled out of her, the sexiest sound he knew.

  His own release coiled tight and hot, a knot of burning pressure at the base of his spine.

  The tether on his control was thin, but he held on. With closed eyes and molars ground together, he powered through the deep shudder that gripped his shaft as Marina clung to him and rode the wave of her orgasm.

  When he lifted his lids in that next moment, her lovely face was floating in front of him, blond hair undulating loosely around her head. Her mouth was slack, eyes open but unseeing. Dark water surrounded her, dragging her down.

  What the fuck?

  He jolted. The sudden stab of confusion—and terror—speared straight into his heart.

  He blinked several times, unsure what he just saw.

  But yet, he knew. It had lasted only a second, but it was enough to chill him to his marrow.

  “Jesus Christ.”

  No sooner had that bracing glimpse vanished from his mind’s eye than another one, even worse, flew at him. Like a spliced section of video without a beginning or end, he now saw himself leaning over Marina’s unmoving body. Blood trickled from her blue lips and onto her colorless chin. Cain’s head filled with the sound of his own voice, bellowing in grief.

  As awful as they were, he tried to call the premonitions back, glean more detail to help him make sense of what he saw. But they were gone.

  Seeing Marina die once in that swimming pool in Miami had been bad enough. Then, he had been able to act on it, to thwart the trajectory of the event on the spot. These broken snippets, a mosaic of brief, murky seconds, gave no clue as to how or when or where they might occur.

  He only knew with cold certainty that they would.

  He went utterly still, barely capable of drawing breath into his lungs.

  “Cain, what is it? Are you all right?” Marina’s concern pulled him back to the here and now. She was staring at him, her hands gentle on his face. “What’s wrong?”

  He shook his head and rolled off her. “Nothing. Fuck. I’m sorry.”

  “What happened?” Her tone turned hesitant. “Cain, did I do something wrong?”

  “No.” The denial burst out of him with more vehemence than he intended. He cursed and sat up, swiveling to the edge of the bed and placing his feet on the floor. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Did I say something that—”

  “No.” He raked a hand over his head, then stood up. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “I don’t believe you.” Her voice quieted, so uncertain it was breaking his heart. “Cain, you’re scaring me.”

  He couldn’t look at her. He was scaring her with his shell-shocked reaction, but he was fucking terrified of the vision that had just flashed in front of him.

  And he couldn’t put it into words.

  He shot a glance at her over his hunched shoulder. “I should go. We meet with Fuentes in a couple of hours. I have things I should do.”

  Silence stretched behind him. “Okay.”

  He grabbed his jeans off the floor and shoved his legs into them. He didn’t bother with his black T-shirt, just snatched it in his fist.

  Marina sat
on the edge of the bed, naked, her arms crossed in front of her as if she were looking at a stranger now. He hated that he had done that to her. Hated that nothing he told her now would bring her any comfort.

  He walked over to her and placed a brief kiss to the top of her head. “I’m sorry.”

  Without waiting for her reply or the questions that were sure to follow, he walked out of the room.

  CHAPTER 17

  “I don’t like that this meeting is taking place on his boat.”

  It was the first he had spoken to her since they’d left the Darkhaven that evening. He glanced at her, his face solemn. “Are you sure you’re ready to do this?”

  Seated next to Cain in his Aston Martin at the Key Largo waterfront park, Marina nodded.

  “It all comes down to this, right? Give Fuentes the power to ruin Boris Karamenko while adding more fortune to his coffers, and then my uncle’s safe future is guaranteed.”

  “And yours,” Cain said, his deep voice sober. “Most importantly, yours.”

  She wasn’t sure if he sounded so earnest because he truly cared, or because he was suddenly eager to send her on her way to a new life somewhere else. Somewhere far away from him. He had been acting distant since he’d left her guest room that afternoon, had managed to avoid her completely until just a few minutes before they had to leave.

  The way he’d bolted out of her bed had left her more than confused. It was hard to believe him when he insisted she had done nothing wrong—said nothing wrong—yet he’d abruptly stopped making love to her and couldn’t get away fast enough.

  Perhaps not coincidentally, his odd behavior had happened immediately after she’d blurted that she wanted to stay in his arms forever.

  Cain wasn’t a man who scared easily, if at all, but evidently the suggestion that she might want a future that included him was too much for the lethal Hunter to handle. At least she had learned that lesson now, before she allowed herself to fall any deeper in love with him.

  “Here’s the briefcase,” Cain said, reaching into the backseat for the aluminum case of money and the data disk. “Remember what I said. Stay close to me and be ready to abort on my call. If Fuentes gives me any cause to doubt him, I’m taking him out.”