His Darkest Salvation Page 9

  Once he’d placed all the pieces into the container, he swept up the remnants of the ones that were not usable and tossed them into the garbage.

  He yanked her fridge open and snorted. It was nearly as pathetic as his had been: a half loaf of bread, some eggs, and a carton of milk. He grabbed the milk and gulped the cold liquid heartily, washing away the whiskey as he did so.

  He finished it and tossed the empty container into the garbage before striding over to the balcony once more. He slid the door back and stepped into the lush, tropical air.

  Instantly, he felt his animal relax as the cooling breeze off the water ruffled his hair. Night was falling fast, and her far-reaching fingers would blanket the area within the hour.

  He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, letting his nostrils grab the myriad of scents that drifted up toward him. He smelled the underbelly of the jungle, the rich earth and tangled foliage. The salt that lay beneath the water, the sand that met it on the shore . . . the smell of sex from the couple below.

  All of it rushed at him, exhilarating his mind and body and filling him with a need to act. To do something.

  His jaguar burned and itched, and his eyes were lit with an eerie fire as they flew open. He began to pant and leaned over the balcony to stare at the ground below.

  Could he make it?

  “It’s a long drop, but I’ve done it.”

  He stilled as her voice caressed the breeze. Uncanny how the woman could read his mind.

  Julian turned back from the edge, to stare at a vision that could only mean trouble and heartache.

  Trouble he could handle, and as for the heartache, well, since his was defective, he wasn’t too worried about that either. He could enjoy whatever the hell it was they shared, with no strings.

  Not that she’d let him, but still.

  Her hair was loose, just the way he liked it, the long damp tendrils falling in silken waves behind her shoulders. A lot of her golden skin was on display; the low-plunging neckline of the dress she wore left nothing to the imagination. It barely covered her breasts, and with a slit the size of Niagara Falls up the side, a good expanse of her legs could be seen.

  Her clan tattoos glistened, and he was mesmerized by them. Fire ripped through him as his eyes drank in the exotic markings, etchings that declared her taken.

  And his mouth went dry as he heard a whisper of insanity inside his head. Mine.

  He took a step toward her but paused as she arched an eyebrow and spoke. “I see you like the dress, and since I know you can barely stand to be in the same room with me, my job is done.” She smiled bitterly. “Apparently, I play the part of Daddy’s little whore well.”

  She looked down at the floor, stretched out a long lean calf, as if admiring the sandals that cupped her feet. But he caught sight of the pain that shimmered in her eyes and the way her lips trembled. “I’m going for dinner. You can either have room service or go down to the hub. Declan is there along with the rest of my team. They’ll be expecting you.”

  She glanced up, and he had to admire the steely core at the center of the woman. Gone was any form of weakness, her mouth set in a determined line, her expression blank.

  His eyes sought hers, then drifted to the discolored flesh of her cheek. It was slightly swollen and would be a bitch of a bruise in the morning, but none of it detracted from her beauty.

  Hell, the woman could have two black eyes and sport missing teeth, but she’d still have that something, that thing no one else possessed. The kind of charisma that turned heads, held interest.

  “Who’s Kragen?” he asked gruffly.

  “Why do you care?” she shot back.

  Good question. He shouldn’t care. At all. As his eyes slowly ran the length of her once more, he felt a prickle of anger. Seriously, what was it about her that affected him so?

  He should be hunting for Cormac and Azaiel instead of standing here worried about some mystery man she was going to screw.

  “Lady, I don’t give a shit who you’re fucking tonight, but if this Kragen has anything to do with the portal, I need to know.”

  She flinched at his words, but he didn’t care. Hell, it was the truth, wasn’t it? Jaden stared at him hard, her eyes glittering through the gloom.

  “Kragen is a sorcerer, one with a known affiliation to Cormac. I’ve been trying to find out where the bastard is holed up, and right now, Kragen is my only lead.” She turned around, and his eyes fell to the gentle swell of her butt. Christ but her ass was delicious.

  Yeah, good job staying focused.

  “Your father seems pretty convinced you’re loyal to the DaCostas. You sure you’re not looking on his behalf?” he asked, his eyes never leaving her backside.

  She paused and cocked her head to the side. Damn, but her profile was as hot as any other angle. “Of course that’s what he believes, but no, definitely not.” She moistened her lips, and his eyes were drawn to them. “This is the last time you will question my intentions, are we clear?”

  In that moment, Julian knew she meant what she said. There was clarity there, an intent that could not be mistaken.

  He said nothing but nodded.

  “Good, if all goes well, Kragen will have the information that I need.”

  The woman was a major distraction, and the fact that he’d tasted her once didn’t count in his favor. He wished he’d never laid a hand on her. Images from that night skirted the edges of his mind, entangled limbs, lean, naked lines, and an arched back that made his mouth water. The need to touch her again was becoming hard to resist.

  His groin tightened, his skin burned.

  “Hopefully, I won’t have to fuck him to find out.”

  He missed the sarcasm in her words. Hell, the only word he’d heard was fuck, and a red haze swam before his eyes.

  Anger exploded within his chest as her words sunk in, but she’d already exited the balcony and was halfway to the elevator doors before he caught up with her.

  Julian grabbed her arm, felt the heat of her flesh beneath his fingers, and his heart pounded in tandem to the fury that was suddenly raging beneath his skin.

  “Take your hand off me, Castille.”

  It took a few seconds for him to dial down the roaring in his ears and focus on the woman that he held.

  “I mean it. Don’t make me kick your ass in a dress, especially this one.” Her eyes flashed. “I wouldn’t want the girls to fall out.”

  His eyes fell to her heaving chest. Her nipples strained against the silky black fabric, their soft roundness barely covered. It irritated the crap out of him that he should care so much. Notice so much.

  The sharp lines of her collarbone drew his attention, and his gaze traveled up to the tattoos that were etched into her golden skin. He hissed as they shimmered, and his hands held firm though she tried to break his grip.

  He couldn’t help himself as he felt his inner caveman stir. The clan tattoos were there because of him—as much as he didn’t want it, that was the reality. They were markings that proclaimed the woman taken, spoken for. His.

  “They don’t mean anything,” she whispered softly, a slight tremor to her voice.

  Was she a fucking mind reader now?

  Lines were blurring all of a sudden, lines that he didn’t want to cross. But it seemed the bastard he’d become in the last six months didn’t care jack shit for rules of any kind. He was beyond being a gentleman.

  He yanked on her arm hard and pulled her close until the softness of her curves hugged his frame. Her long lines fit perfectly into the hard valley of his body, as if she were meant for him.

  He groaned as her scent drifted in the air, and a longing sparked inside him that rippled over his flesh painfully. Nothing had changed in three years.

  Nothing and everything.

  The scars along his chest burned as the jaguar became agitated. His eyes drank in soft golden skin, lips that were full and candy red, hair that beckoned to be touched. Her body moved against his, fucking Jezebel that sh
e was, and the need inside him grew—as did his cock.

  He felt himself harden and closed his eyes as the sensation of her body against his flooded nerve endings long denied.

  He could smell her arousal, it was there, subtle, beckoning, and he groaned as his eyes flew open.

  Twin pools of liquid velvet glistened as her eyes stared up at him. The color was high on her cheeks, and he felt her heart rate increase.

  He could take her. Right now. He knew this.

  An image of his body thrusting deep into hers flashed before his eyes, vivid Technicolor grade A porn. It burned through him with an intensity that left him struggling to breathe, and he closed his eyes, visualizing once more her breasts, generous and swollen with need, long, tangled hair flying everywhere, and her body writhing atop his as she’d ridden him hard.

  Would he ever forget that night? He’d thought about it often enough. Deep within the bowels of hell, when the darkest of shit was falling on his head, she’d gotten him through.

  Fucking Christ, but the woman drove him nuts. A DaCosta jaguar.

  Her lips were parted, and the white of her teeth could be seen as she panted, the small breaths falling rapidly from between her lips.

  His hand slowly slid along her thigh until the silk of her dress parted, and he felt the warmth of her flesh beneath his fingers.

  “Don’t.” She shook her head, but he didn’t hear her, his eyes focused on her mouth and the way she bit, then sucked on her bottom lip as his hand continued along her flesh.

  He cupped her ass, reveling in the feel of her toned flesh, and his large hand splayed across the curves, fingers caressing as he pulled her into him even more. He hissed when he realized there was no barrier there, no thin scrap of fabric protecting the treasure that lay between her legs.

  Shit, the woman was commando. As hot as that image was, and his mind was certainly focused on her silky ass, it was pretty much overshadowed by an intense jolt of fury. The thought that she would go out in public, to dinner with another man in such a way made his body shudder in anger.

  But, then, why wouldn’t she? She was on a mission tonight. The woman was sex on legs, this he knew from experience. She was more than willing to put out in order to get what she wanted. He’d obviously been a target three years ago no matter what she claimed. In the world they inhabited, there was no such thing as coincidence.

  He snarled savagely, and his right hand held her secure as his other reached around to cup the hot juncture between her legs. Her eyes deepened and a groan fell from between her lips as she pushed against his chest.

  “Please,” she whispered softly.

  Julian felt the dampness there, the welcoming warmth as her legs parted for him, and he lowered his head, teeth bared as his passion exploded.

  “Please?” he whispered hoarsely. “Babe, you don’t need to beg.”

  And then he took what he wanted, his mouth claiming hers even as she started to protest once more.

  Her softness opened for him, his mouth eating her words as he plunged his tongue into the warm, wetness within. She tasted like sin, just as he remembered, and she shuddered against him, whimpering as his fingers sought the hot button buried within her slick folds.

  The darkness that crept along the edges of his mind continued to grow, and he felt a punishing thirst awaken inside him. He felt the need to mark her once more, to inflict his will upon her in such a way that she’d never forget to whom she belonged.

  As the crazy thoughts continued to circle his brain, he deepened the kiss, taking, tasting, what was his. She moaned into his mouth, and his right hand crept up along her back, up to her neck, until he buried his fingers within the softness of her hair.

  He held her head in place as his mouth continued to drink from the softness of her lips, and when she opened fully beneath him, when her tongue welcomed his with equal fervor, and she ground her hotness beneath his fingers, he saw red.

  He felt as if he were coming apart. His insides quaked, running hot and cold all at once, and the pain that ripped across his chest only added to the exquisite torture.

  “Oh God,” she whispered into his mouth. “I can’t . . . not with you.”

  Her spoken words startled him, as did the intensity, the need, and he pulled back, welcoming the coolness that ran across his lips as the heat of her left him.

  Ragged breaths fell from between his lips as his eyes focused on the swollen red of hers. They stared at each other, long and hard, and she squirmed against him as his confused emotions pounded him. What the hell did all of this mean?

  What did he want it to mean?

  She exhaled slowly, and the passion melted from her eyes, her face going blank as she stilled beneath his touch. She pushed against him, and he let her go, not really understanding what had just happened.

  The pain inside him tripled, fire lashing against his chest as he watched her walk away from him, her hands smoothing the lines of her dress and pushing the mass of hair behind her shoulders.

  She pressed the elevator button, and the doors slid open silently.

  “Thanks,” she said softly.

  Julian arched an eyebrow and answered. “For what?” he said harshly, barely able to get the words out.

  She stepped inside and turned to face him with a smile though her eyes flashed a furious glint. “I can skip dinner and head directly for dessert.” Her hands slowly ran over her still-erect nipples, and Julian hissed, feeling a pull deep in his cock as she did so.

  “Hopefully, Kragen will be enough to satisfy, but I have a feeling he’s a little too vanilla for my tastes.” Her meaning brought such darkness to his mind that Julian growled, welcoming the burn as it rippled along his flesh.

  The doors started to close.

  “I might have to search out some dark chocolate.”

  He lunged forward, a snarl falling from his lips, but the doors closed before he could get to her.

  Julian growled loudly as he stood there, legs spread, hands clenched to his sides, sporting the most painful hard-on he’d ever had.

  He began to pace, a furious need inside him banishing all else from his mind, and as the cool night breeze drifted in from the balcony, he paused. The night air calmed him somewhat, the sounds and smells of the land and surrounding sea deeply embedded in his psyche.

  The sudden urge to shed his skin and run wild called to him, and he grabbed at his clothes.

  Seconds later, he stood crouched upon the railing of Jaden’s balcony as he stared down into the darkness below. The path that ran along the back of the building was empty, the cobblestones lit by a soft lamp several feet away.

  Deep throngs of mist crawled along his body, the heavy magick caressing hard lines as he stood and spread out his arms. Inside his soul, where the ravaged half still lived, his jaguar growled in delight, eager to run.

  Eager to hunt.

  Moonlight fell in soft beams from above and was the only witness as Julian jumped. His body flew through the air, twisting gracefully as bones popped and elongated, the magick caressing every inch of him as he hurtled toward the ground.

  He’d flown from the balcony a man, but it was a powerful jaguar that landed easily on all fours to the left of the path, deep in the soft foliage that was there.

  The great cat stood still for several seconds, scenting the wind until he found the one he was looking for.

  And then the golden jaguar slid into the night, its dark rosettes bleeding into the dusk before it disappeared entirely.

  Chapter 10

  “Jaden DaCosta.”

  She didn’t like the way her name fell from Kragen Black’s lips. Like liquid honey, as if he had the right to be so intimate. “You’re looking a little tense,” he continued with a smile. The silver-gray eyes that stared at her were unsettling.

  Jaden nodded to Kragen and stood back as he pulled out a chair for her. His hand fell to her shoulder, and she kept her smile firmly in place as his breath warmed the side of her neck.

  He
was much too forward, which pissed her off, but she’d play the game. Her father didn’t have to worry; she’d do whatever it took to achieve her agenda.

  “I’ll do my best to help you forget about your worries.” His tone was silky smooth, confident.

  She slipped from his touch and held her hands steady as the urge to rip into his flesh tore at her fingers. She felt the burn beneath her nails but settled into the chair calmly.

  They were alone, seated at her private table several feet away from the main dining area, nestled into an alcove on the terrace. It afforded a certain amount of privacy, without making her feel detached from the activity in the main room.

  As she smiled at Kragen she couldn’t help but think she’d love to be detached right now, separated from the mess that had become her life.

  “It’s been a hell of a day,” she replied, accepting a glass of red wine from Paulo, her manager.

  “I can see that.”

  He nodded, and her hand grazed the sore area of her cheek as she turned from him, willing the shame that would surely stain her flesh away.

  She took a sip, felt the liquid slowly pass over her taste buds, and fought the urge to guzzle it down like water.

  She needed to keep a cool head, but that was going to be hard considering that every single nerve ending in her body was on fire. Kragen’s eyes slowly drifted over her and rested for several long seconds on her breasts.

  Why the hell did I wear this dress?

  Because you wanted Julian to see you in it.

  Even now she felt her sensitive nipples ache as they strained against the thin fabric that barely covered them. Her breasts felt engorged, and an image of Julian, suckling at them, tugging on the turgid peaks flashed through her mind. She stifled a groan as the erotic pictures continued to play, struggling to block them out.

  She loosened her tight shoulders, rolled her neck, and crossed her legs, an effort to alleviate the throbbing that was constant between them, but the action only inflamed the sensation, and she gritted her teeth.