Taken by Sin

  “Dalton, I’m not at all afraid of you.”

  He frowned. “You should be. You have no idea what I’m capable of doing.”

  “You don’t know what I’m capable of doing, either. That makes us a pretty even match, don’t you think?”

  His lips curled. “Maybe.”

  “I’ve always wanted to feel close to someone but never allowed it. At first because of selfish reasons, and lately because of fear. Don’t you think I’m afraid of what I could do, what I could be?”

  “You’re safe with me, Isabelle.”

  “But are you safe with me?”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  She believed he could. If anyone could, it was Dalton. “I need to be close to someone, to feel alive, to feel … human. I need to feel as if someone cares for me. And if that caring is only sex, I can handle that.”

  “I don’t know what I can offer you beyond this moment,” he said.

  She nodded. “Nor do I. But I can tell you that I’m strong enough to handle you. And that I want you, no matter how out of control you think you’ll get.”

  She’d never been so nakedly honest with anyone in her life. It was scary as hell and exhilarating at the same time. It left her shaky, her skin prickling with need.

  Isabelle pushed off the side of the tub and stood, bubbles sliding down her skin. “I’m getting all pruny in here. How about we take this conversation somewhere else?”

  The heat in his gaze seared her. He started at her knees, his gaze lifting upward, devouring her body with his hungry gaze. When he reached her face, she actually blushed. Dalton’s eyes went dark, his intent oh, so clear. He stood, and now it was her turn to look as he stepped out of the tub.

  “We’ve done enough talking.” He scooped her up in his arms, lifted her out of the tub, and took her into his bedroom. He jerked the quilt and sheet to the end of the bed, then laid her in the middle of it, coming down on top of her.

  Skin-to-skin contact. The shock and utter bonfire consumed her. But he didn’t give her time to even breathe before his lips covered hers in a demanding kiss that told her in no uncertain terms that she’d better be ready to accept what was going to happen between them, or let him know now, because this time there’d be no stopping.

  She so didn’t want to stop. Not with the barely leashed passion that roared inside Dalton, ready to burst to the surface. She felt it in the tension of his muscles as she smoothed her hands over his shoulders, down his arms. She held on to him as he surged against her, letting her feel how much he wanted her. She arched upward, letting him know she wanted him as well, because she couldn’t speak—his mouth was doing delicious things to hers, capturing her, mesmerizing her, his tongue licking at hers, rasping its velvet softness in silent demand.

  Whatever he wanted, she would give. She had so much to offer it was almost painful. It was frightening and exhilarating, this temptation to bare her soul to Dalton. Part of her wanted to hold back, but she had a hot man in her arms, a demanding man who would take no less than everything. That’s what she intended to give him.

  He lifted his head, stared down at her, his gaze as demanding as his body moving against hers. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

  “How can you ask that? I’ve been trying to seduce you since the moment we got here.”

  His lips curled, and he bent, kissing the pounding pulse point of her neck, then licked her until she shivered. “Be careful what you wish for, Isabelle,” he murmured against her ear before gently biting her earlobe. “You might just get it.”

  She tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled, forcing him to look at her. “So far you’ve been all talk, Dalton. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

  He laughed, the rumbling sound full of promise. He grasped her wrists in his hands, spread her arms wide, then used his knee to kick her legs apart before climbing up to his knees, devouring her with his gaze. He lifted her arms above her head and held her wrists together with one hand, using his free hand to caress her hair, her cheek, her neck. She breathed through her mouth when his fingers went featherlight, teasing between her breasts, skiing up and down the valley between the two globes. His touch sent rivers of sensation between her breasts and straight down between her legs. She tried to squeeze her legs together, anything to intensify the feeling, but his body was in the way.

  “Like that?” he asked.

  “Yes. Touch me.”

  He circled her nipples, then used the pad of his thumb to skim across each taut bud, lingering at the piercings there, sending her into shivers of delight as he gently tugged the silver rings. She let out a whimper of pleasured response, gritting her teeth when he cupped her breasts and squeezed oh, so tenderly, circling her nipple with his thumb. She gasped at the exquisite sensations, made even more so when he bent his head and captured her other nipple in his mouth, sucking it hard.

  She nearly came off the bed, arching upward against him. How could something feel so good? How could he know just what she needed? He rolled his tongue over the piercings at each nipple, which shot pulses of ecstasy to her core until she was mindless with pleasure, all the while rocking against her sex with his shaft until she was drenched with need for him, already so close to completion her body throbbed with it.

  Dalton shifted, dropping down beside her to claim her lips again in a potent kiss. She shuddered at the sensual power he had over her, like a drug that made everything hazy. Every nerve ending was alive, everywhere he touched sent her closer and closer to the edge. And when his hand drifted down her belly to cup her sex, slowly massaging the ache inside her that had built to a crescendo, she tensed and whimpered against his mouth.

  He lifted his head, looked at her. “Let go, Isabelle.”

  She did, gasping as she climaxed, letting him see everything, feel everything as she rocked against his hand. He gave her no time to come down from the high, just positioned himself over her while she was still in the throes of these amazing aftershocks, and slid inside her with a powerful thrust.

  And oh, it was just what she craved—this possession, this demanding man giving her what she’d wanted from him for so long. He slid one hand underneath her buttocks, lifting her up so her pelvis met his, so he could drive deeper inside her.

  Isabelle wrapped her legs around him and held tight, smoothing her hands over the sweat-slickened muscles of his back, memorizing every part of his skin she could touch as he rocked against her, inside her, one with her.

  She felt power inside Dalton, and it matched the power inside herself—the part of herself she was afraid to set free.

  “Let it out,” he said, lifting up on his arms to stare down at her face.

  She gasped at the look of intensity, the darkness in his eyes, which almost seemed to glow with feral, animalist hunger. It should frighten her. Instead, it aroused her.

  “Let it go, Isabelle. Let me have it.”

  She knew what he asked for, the part of herself she’d tried to hide. The intensity, the emotion, the deepest part of herself that she’d held locked up. She shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. “I can’t.”

  He lifted against her and she could feel herself coming apart again.

  “Trust me,” he whispered, bending down to brush his lips against hers. “I’ll never hurt you.”

  She believed him. God help her, she believed him. And she would give him everything. Her heart, her soul, all that she was.

  She swept her hand across his cheek.

  “It’s yours,” she said. “Take it.”

  With a low growl he thrust hard, retreated, powered forward again until she released all she’d held inside. She arched her back as the force of her climax crashed within her, dragged her nails down his arms as she came apart around him. His guttural cry told her that he gave her all he had, too, and it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.

  It was like a white light shone around him, nearly blinding her, yet she couldn’t close her eyes against such beauty, not when it
catapulted her into a place she’d never been before, a place she never hoped to capture.

  Shaken, spent, Dalton collapsed on top of her and she wrapped herself around him, wondering what she had just seen. Imaginings in the throes of passion, or something else? She was almost afraid to ask, didn’t want to do or say anything to disrupt this idyllic moment.

  It had to have been a figment of her imagination. She probably just had way too many synapses firing.

  A pleasure overload, that’s what it had been. She’d been so caught in the moment, the sensations, the intensity of everything she’d felt with him. Because there’s no way Dalton would have a white glow surrounding him. No way.

  He rolled off her and pulled her against him so they faced each other. He swept her hair away from her face, his gaze penetrating.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  She smiled, slid her hand along his beard-stubbled jaw. “I’m great.”

  “Yeah, you sure were.”

  She laughed. “Thanks. So were you. I can’t remember sex being quite so … intense.”

  He arched a brow and swept his hand along her collarbone. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “You do that.”

  She nestled her head against his shoulder, utterly exhausted. But a part of her wanted to mention what she’d seen, and that kept her from falling immediately to sleep. Besides, sleep meant demons, anyway, and she was content to just lie here with Dalton for a while.

  “You’re restless.”

  She smiled in the dark. “Yes. I tend to avoid sleep.”

  “Because of the nightmares?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you want to get up?”

  She snuggled against him. “No. I’m fine here with you.”

  He wrapped his arms around her. “I’ll keep the demons away.”

  “I believe you could.” She yawned, trying to fight sleep, but failing. “Your white light could do that.”

  “Huh?”

  She was drifting, barely able to keep her eyelids open. “That white light I saw around you when we were making love. It was so … beautiful.”

  Dalton listened to Isabelle’s rhythmic breathing. She was asleep, had passed out almost immediately after uttering the words that had sent him into a cold sweat.

  White light surrounding him.

  Shit.

  He was afraid something like that would happen, but he hadn’t known for sure. Not until he’d given all of himself to Isabelle, something he hadn’t intended on doing, but couldn’t seem to control.

  What happened between Isabelle and him was more than just physical. He hadn’t counted on his emotional reaction, the involvement of his soul in their joining. He knew he asked her for everything, but at the same time he gave her all he had, all he was.

  Huge mistake. What was he thinking?

  He wasn’t. That was his problem, what he was afraid would happen if he made love to Isabelle. He had suspected after the first time that being with Isabelle would bring out a flood of intense emotions.

  But he hadn’t counted on this.

  Maybe she’d forget what she saw, or chalk it up to some sexual out-of-body experience brought about by a great orgasm.

  Yeah, right. He wasn’t that good. Which meant he’d better come up with a plausible explanation, because chances were she’d ask.

  No, he sure hadn’t helped himself tonight. All he’d done was remind himself of the darkness inside him, always lurking, the mistakes he could make with her future by making the wrong decision.

  Had this been the wrong decision? He might have caused irreparable damage—to both of them. Because he’d allowed himself to care about her, and he couldn’t do that.

  Not with what was surely coming down the road.

  The Realm staff had strapped the demon into a chair, making it sit upright. It was well bound, so no matter how strong it was, no way was it going to get free.

  They were also going to try to talk to the demon in a freakin’ freezing room, which meant they were all geared up in parkas, gloves, and thermal underclothes.

  Mandy couldn’t feel her toes and fingers. Her nose was as red as Rudolph’s and thank God for lip balm.

  She paced, blowing into her gloved hands, watching a white trail of cold smoke filter out through her nearly frozen lips.

  Yeah, plenty frigid in here. Demon dude wasn’t going to be able to dematerialize. Now all they had to do was wait for it to wake up. The scientists had injected it with just enough of the warming agent to bring about consciousness, but not enough to thaw it so it could turn into mist.

  The demon—or should they refer to it as James?—was beginning to stir, eyelids twitching, mouth opening in a grimace.

  Good. Mandy hoped it was in pain.

  In an instant its eyes shot open, zooming in on her. She grinned and leaned in.

  “Have a nice nap, James?”

  It struggled against the restraints.

  “There’s no point in fighting,” Michael said, moving alongside Mandy. “You’re secure.”

  Fully awake and aware now, at first it feigned fear. “I don’t understand. Why are you holding me?”

  “You can knock off the poor captured human act,” Mandy said. “We know what you are.”

  And still, it continued the performance. “Where’s my wife? If you’ve hurt her, I’ll kill you.”

  Mandy rolled her eyes. “They need to give you guys better acting lessons, because you suck at this.”

  “We know you’re not human,” Michael said, “so knock off the bullshit. You’re not James McAdams, at least not the James McAdams you used to be.”

  The fear left the demon’s face and it smirked. “You have no idea what you’re dealing with.”

  Mandy snorted. She couldn’t wait for the chance to go one-on-one with this piece of shit. Her silver-tipped dagger was nice and cold strapped to her thigh. She’d love to plunge it in this bastard’s excuse for a heart. But with it tied down like that there’d be no fun in stabbing it. She wanted it free and coming at her so the fight would be fair.

  “Why don’t you tell us what we’re dealing with,” Michael said, his voice calm. He was even smiling.

  “You think your cold room and these bindings can hold me?”

  Michael crossed his arms. “Are you saying they can’t?”

  James lifted its chin. “Of course not.”

  “Then go ahead, dematerialize into mist or break the restraints.”

  The demon shot Michael a look of pure malice. “You’re testing me, have me hooked up to wires or something. I’m not giving away my secrets.”

  “You can’t get out of the freakin’ chair. Do you think we’re stupid?” Mandy smirked at the demon’s attempt at superiority.

  “Yes, I think you’re stupid. All humans are.”

  Mandy cupped the knife at her thigh. Michael’s hand covered hers and patted it gently.

  She so couldn’t wait for this fight.

  Michael cocked his head to the side. “You look human to me.”

  “That’s the idea.”

  “What’s the idea?”

  James opened its mouth to speak, then shook its head. “I’ve got nothing to say.”

  It wanted to brag. Mandy knew it. It wanted to show them how “advanced” it was to the rest of them.

  Michael backed away, leaned against the frozen wall, looked bored, as if he didn’t care. “We can just leave you here until you rot.”

  The demon said nothing.

  “They won’t care whether you die or not. You’re only one of many to them. If they lose you, they’ll just make another.”

  Mandy noticed Michael didn’t say who “they” were. But James knew. The Sons of Darkness.

  “What did they offer you to give up your humanity?” Michael asked. “To give up your life?”

  “Immortality, asshole. They want smart, good-looking humans. In return, we get to live forever, and we get all these cool skills.”

  “L
ike shifting into mist, for example,” Michael offered.

  The demon nodded. “Exactly.”

  “Is that it?” Mandy asked, already picking up from Michael that they were playing the Good Cop, Bad Cop game. “That’s the best you’ve got? Shifting into mist? Because I’ve gotta tell you, that’s not much.”

  “Better than what you’ve got, bitch.”

  She didn’t rise to the bait this time. Oh, but it took a lot of effort. She’d really like to wipe that smart-ass smirk off the demon’s face.

  “She has a point,” Michael said, keeping his voice low and even. “Disappearing is a nice act, but surely there has to be more benefit for what you’re asked to do.”

  “Superhuman strength, immunity to all disease. No need to eat, or sleep, though we do need to feed.”

  This guy was a wealth of information. The Sons of Darkness were going to have to work on the discretion thing. This demon was so full of itself it just had to brag.

  “You said you didn’t need to eat, but you need to feed.” Michael made a show of studying his nails, as if he wasn’t really all that interested in the answer. “That seems rather … human to me.”

  “Not food, you moron.”

  “Then what?” Michael asked.

  “Life force. Energy.”

  “And how do you do that?” Michael asked.

  “It’s so damn easy you wouldn’t believe it. Just press your fingers against a human’s neck, embed, and suck the life right out of them.”

  Mandy’s gaze snapped to the demon’s. “How the hell does that work?”

  The demon laughed. “Hell if I know. It just does. And oh, man, there’s nothing like the feeling of your victim wrestling for freedom underneath you. The power just pouring into you. It’s like you can feel their soul seeping out of them as they die. That’s some heady shit.”

  She’d show it heady. How would it like to have its life force sucked right out of it? Mandy would bet she could figure a way to make that happen.

  “That’s all you need to sustain your existence?” Michael asked.

  The demon gave a short nod. “That’s it. We have no weaknesses.”

  Everything had weaknesses. Everything could die.