Owning the Night Read online

  Did it really come down to the fact that to get any kind of justice, you had to resort to vigilantism?

  Alex stood and dusted sand off his jeans. Then he took her hands and looked into her eyes. “Sometimes it does, sweetheart. Especially when you’re dealing with a vampire as evil as Reynard.”

  When he stared down at the dead woman once more, Mara saw raw emotions cross his ruggedly handsome face. Anger, yes. But she saw undertones of sadness, resignation . . . reluctant understanding that she’d done what she’d had to, as a mortal cop. “You’d better get on your cell phone and tell your people we just found another victim. And that they’ve got the wrong vampire.” He raised his gaze, the unnatural brightness in his eyes the result of unshed tears.

  As she tried to steady her hands enough to drag her cell phone from her purse, guilt washed over her. What if she’d trusted Alex before and ordered her team to stay away? If you had, the woman at your feet might still be alive. “Ben? You and the others locked up Alex’s clansman who was tailing our killer. Reynard struck again.” Her voice broke, and she sank to her knees as she told them where to come.

  • • •

  Two mortal women, one pale in death, the other vibrant with life. Alex looked down at them and concentrated on visualizing the killer. Louis was close by, sated with the blood of his latest victim yet cunning as the fox for which his clan had been named in a time lost to antiquity. Intuitively, Alex knew Louis wouldn’t return to the so-called castle where he’d been spending his sleeping hours. But where would he go?

  “Alex?”

  Mara’s voice broke his concentration. “What?” he snapped.

  “They’re releasing Philippe. Do you want him to come here with the crime team?”

  “He might as well. Maybe he’ll have better luck than I, sensing where Reynard might have gone to ground.” Louis could have been in one of the nearby clubs or shops, mingling with unsuspecting mortals. Or he might have walked in and rented a room at one of the aging motels anywhere along Highway A1A. The bastard could have gone almost anywhere. One thing for sure, he’d be surfacing again tomorrow night to feed his increasingly voracious appetite for mortal blood.

  A warm sea breeze caught the palm fronds above them, made them sway in a macabre dance. In the distance, sirens wailed. The sounds grew louder as blue and red lights emerged from the darkness, the colors dulled by the humid night air as cars drew into the nearly deserted parking lot adjacent to this public beach area. With Ben in the lead, the detectives converged on the crime scene with an air of futile urgency Alex fully understood. Philippe followed, his long dark hair catching the breeze and framing his face, emphasizing his intent expression.

  “I’m sorry, Alex.” Philippe inclined his head, a typically submissive act that seemed incongruous considering that he had all that hair while most of the male submissives in their clan kept their heads shaved. Still, Alex understood his clansman’s grief and recalled his vow not to cut his hair as long as his mate’s death lay heavy on his heart.

  As the cops scurried about, stringing up yellow crime scene tape and snapping photos of the body, Alex considered his options. It was obvious both he and Philippe needed to restore their vampire powers . . .

  And the best way to do that was with sex. Uninhibited vampire sex, not the conventional though incredibly satisfying joining he and Mara had enjoyed earlier. She stood beside him now, her attention focused on her team and what to do about the growing collection of bodies now filling the department’s morgue. Alex didn’t understand why she couldn’t accept this wasn’t a job for mortal cops. That Louis Reynard would keep on killing until he met a vampire stronger than himself. As much as he hated to use his supernatural powers on his lover, Alex slipped into Mara’s mind. Send them away, baby. Leave it to Philippe and me. Reynard has to be destroyed, finally and completely.

  As he’d known she would, she sent the cops away. She watched the ambulance pull out, its lights and siren silent now. Turning to Alex, she stood before him and Philippe, her dark eyes glistening with tears. A woman. His for the night and coming day, to pleasure and protect.

  And more. Though he wasn’t ready to drop to his knees and declare his eternal love for Mara, he felt compelled to include her in the ritual of reinstatement that he needed—the ritual he knew Philippe needed, as well. Whether or not she’d admit it, she needed it, too, the affirmation of life, the restoration of strength . . . the security of loving and being loved.

  Alex swelled against his zipper as he imagined dominating not only his grief-stricken clansman but also the delectable cop who needed a few hard lessons in obedience. In obeying the master who controlled her sexual responses, not the rules of her profession that were meant for humans with their human limitations.

  • • •

  The air seemed charged tonight, its damp heat caressing Mara’s bare shoulders as they floated along high above the sandy beach, hands clasped. Sexual energy radiated from Alex on one side, his clansman on the other, warming her flesh, which had grown cold from fear and revulsion as she’d worked yet another crime scene.

  This time she wasn’t afraid. She trusted them to carry her along safely. Yes, she knew when he was compelling her, like a few minutes ago when he’d had her send her team away. Part of her was angry at his arrogance, but mostly she accepted he’d only been challenging her belief as to what action would be best to stop Reynard. And he’d been right. The best—the only—way to catch Reynard would be to play by Alex’s rules. And her wary acceptance of that was almost as frightening as the rapid growth of her feelings for him.

  A gust of wind caught them up, deposited them in Alex’s room. It looked the same yet somehow different. A maid had laid back the covers, revealing snowy linens and jewel-toned pillows . . . and silky-looking restraints. Light, fragrant smoke from incense smoldering in a silver holder on the table swirled around them, binding them together as if with those silken cords. The lightweight sundress that had seemed so insignificant suddenly chafed Mara’s skin, made her want to discard it along with all her mortal inhibitions and step into her lover’s world.

  As though he’d read her mind—perhaps he had—Alex skimmed the silky fabric off her shoulders, over her breasts and waist and hips. “Step out of it now,” he ordered, his tone as smooth as the material.

  Nothing could have made her disobey him, not even the knowledge that this encounter would be purely carnal. Vampire sex, where Alex and Philippe would both bring all their seductive skills into play to give her pleasure. Pleasure and submission to their collective will. No. To Alex’s will. He hadn’t had to say so for her to realize the third party in this ménage was submissive by nature and would bow to her master’s will.

  Just as she would.

  She stood there in the scandalous undies Alex had bought her, her nipples puckering and poking against the see-through lace bra. Matching thong panties did nothing to stem the flow of juices—nothing but increase her arousal by brushing against her swollen labia. His touch, light as a feather on her shoulder as he slid the bra strap down, sent shards of need through her, made her raise her face to his, silently begging for his kiss.

  “Not yet. We’re going to give you pleasure like you’ve never experienced before. Both of us.”

  Anticipation made Mara’s pulse race when Alex’s softly spoken words registered in her passion-drenched brain. Anticipation that trumped the very human, very mortal reserve that whispered sex was a couple’s event, not a team sport. His callused fingertips chafed her sensitive skin, reminded her of his strength—his undeniable masculinity.

  “Give me your handcuffs.” He handed over the black tote bag that looked so wrong with the clothes she’d been wearing and waited while she dug inside and brought out a pair of standard police-issue cuffs. “And the key.” Digging in once more, she brought out a key ring and put it in his hand.

  Would he restrain her? A shiver went through her body at the thought, a little bit of fear that the pleasure might be more than s
he could bear mingled with heightened sexual awareness, and the knowledge he was in charge and could ravage her helpless body the way he’d already destroyed her will to resist.

  He did nothing but set the cuffs on the nightstand by the bed. And stand there, deliberate in his motions as he toed off his deck shoes and shed his jeans and boxers in one graceful motion. His sex stood straight up, its head glistening with lubrication, his smooth scrotum drawn tight against his body. “Come here. I know you want to play with this.” He flicked the gold ring that had drawn her gaze, and then ordered Philippe to take off his clothes.

  Her tongue darted out, moistened her lips. Even that small touch of her own flesh excited her. “Oh, yes.” She moved so close that she felt Alex’s slow, deep exhalations against her cheek when he bent and took her mouth in a long, slow kiss. Following his orders, she reached between his legs and set the guiche ring to swinging in slow motion.

  “Oh, yeah. That feels fantastic. Stop it now, before I forget we’re not alone.”

  She dropped her hand to his thigh, not wanting to give up the connection completely. He took it, brought it to his lips, moistened the back of her hand with his tongue. Then he set her hand over her navel.

  “I want you to watch. Before night comes again you’ll know Philippe’s touch as well as you know mine.” Alex settled her on the bed and laid a hand over her mound. A possessive gesture, she thought, even though he’d ordered her to watch his clansman bare a body equally muscular, equally smooth. An inch or so shorter than Alex, Philippe was paler, his skin a startling contrast with all that dark, shoulder-length hair.

  His blue eyes fixed on Alex, Philippe stripped, his movements practiced as if he’d repeated them a thousand times. Perhaps he had, for the mate who had died. For countless vampire orgies he’d indulged in over the years.

  “Philippe’s a made vampire. A submissive. Hurry up, my friend, our mortal lover is growing anxious.” Alex slid a finger under Mara’s lacy thong, rubbed her clit in a circular motion as though to prime her for what was coming.

  “Omigod.” She couldn’t help the exclamation of surprise when Philippe revealed his sex. Only half hard, he was huge, as was the heavy ring that pierced the shaft horizontally, just behind the head. His balls hung low, swinging slightly as he stepped out of his pants.

  “Like what you see, Mara? Philippe, come join us.” Alex found her swollen flesh and massaged it, pushing her damp thong out of the way. “I want you to get our friend here hard. Use your pretty mouth and hands.”

  Could she take them both? She had no choice. Alex had stolen her will, primed her for the vampire pleasure she’d once yearned for with Dante. The lifetime of pleasure he’d denied her after giving her a glimpse of sexual paradise.

  Alex pinched her clit, hard. “I command you not to think of him. Put those memories to rest and make new ones with me. With us.”

  How did he manage to intercept her every thought? Mara didn’t care at the moment. She couldn’t think at all, not with Alex claiming her with two fingers and Philippe playing idly with her lacy bra. She lay back, stroking Philippe’s muscular belly while Alex ran his free hand up and down her spine. Foreplay times two.

  Alex kissed her, an almost chaste kiss that had him tracing the seam of her lips with his tongue. Philippe shifted, bringing his erection into her hand. “Gods, yes,” he muttered when she began to caress his cool, smooth flesh.

  “Open for me,” Alex said against her mouth, and when she did, he claimed her. A second and third finger stretched her while he tongued her and she stroked Philippe.

  She felt heavy. Lethargic, yet so sexually charged she thought she’d burst if they didn’t stop toying with her and bring her to climax. The lace of her bra cut painfully into her swollen nipples, and her damp thong dug into her rear entrance, reminding her she had another hole aching to be filled. Desperate for satisfaction, she sucked Alex’s tongue, hard.

  “Not good, baby. You’re supposed to submit, not try to dictate the pace.” He nipped at her lip then shot her a stern look. “Now you’ll pay the price.”

  What price? She figured that out quickly enough when Alex deftly caught up the silk cords and tied her ankles to opposite ends of the footboard. “Now for these,” he told her as he clamped her own handcuffs to her wrists and ran another cord through the chain and secured the cuffs to the headboard. He straddled her, the tip of his erection brushing her chin. “Do you want me inside you now?”

  “Oh, yes. Please.”

  He laughed as he shoved pillows behind her head. “So polite. But it won’t do you any good. You’ll have to wait your turn. I’ve been sadly neglecting Philippe.”

  He was going to have sex with another man—another male vampire?

  “Don’t get so indignant, sweetheart. Did you think you were going to have all the fun?” Alex slid off her and took two condoms from the drawer. “Philippe, suit up and come to me.”

  It should have seemed unnatural, watching two magnificently muscled males locked in an embrace, kissing, running callused hands through each other’s hair, then down to squeeze tight asses and play with their respective anal openings. But it didn’t. Once Philippe joined them on the bed, Alex took charge, straddling Philippe’s hard body and setting the pace, holding back when Philippe would have hurried, reaching between them first to caress Philippe’s burgeoning erection and tug at the hefty ring whose shape stretched the latex receptacle at the end of his condom.

  “Fuck me. Please.” Philippe’s plea conveyed an air of desperation, of need too long unmet. Mara watched the two, one dominant, the other submissive, as they danced a dance she imagined predated modern civilization. Loving one another, celebrating all the senses. Vampire kisses that barely broke skin filled the room with a not unpleasant smell of blood. Touches, first soft and then tinged with barely controlled male violence, made her long for them to use their magic hands on her as well, staunch the desperate desire that made her writhe against her bonds. Grunts and growls conveyed lust and need and something more she couldn’t quite name.

  Seeing them like this made her feel she should turn away, yet she could not. Their passion held her as firmly as her bonds, stoking her own lust to a fever pitch. Alex shifted and positioned Philippe on all fours, his eager ass in the air. Using his saliva to wet his hand, Alex lubricated the condom he wore. Then, surprising Mara, he withdrew a large anal plug from Philippe’s ass and replaced it with his cock.

  Philippe’s expression was one of ecstasy when Alex plunged in and slowly withdrew, only to penetrate again, harder with each thrust. Her own look, she imagined, was one of longing, for it seemed unfair for her to have to watch Alex do to Philippe what she wanted both of them to do to her.

  Their muscles bunched and strained. A vein throbbed in Philippe’s thick neck, teasing . . . inviting. Alex leaned over, never missing a stroke. Fangs extended, he clamped down on Philippe’s flesh, sucking his blood. Philippe screamed, a sound not of pain but of long-denied satisfaction. When Alex raised his head and met Mara’s gaze, his deep green eyes glowed as he licked away the bloody residue that tipped his fangs.

  Chapter Five

  I want you to bite me that way.

  Mara’s unspoken words resounded in Alex’s head. He didn’t know what it was about her, but he wanted to claim her as his own, not for a few hours’ pleasure but forever. Lying there, restrained from moving by those silken cords that held her legs apart and her cuffed wrists above her head, she was temptation personified . . . temptation that could almost divert him from his goal.

  Philippe slumped beneath him, sated for the moment yet not satisfied. His grief surrounded him like a shroud that kept out the heights of sensual satisfaction he’d found only with his dead lover. Keeping his eyes on Mara, Alex gathered Philippe in his arms, offered a clansman’s love . . . and temptation for Philippe to set aside his grieving and participate fully in the ménage, despite his long-held preference for sex with other males.

  Stripping off the condoms from his
own cock as well as Philippe’s, Alex drew him to Mara’s side, laid his hand against her satiny cheek. Then he worked the ring out of Philippe’s half-hard cock and sheathed him with a fresh, well-lubricated condom.

  “Help me show Mara how d’Argent vampires pleasure their lovers.”

  Cool. Soothing. Philippe’s touch was tentative, as though it had been a long time— centuries—since he’d touched a woman to raise her passion. Looking down at her, he smoothed back a strand of hair behind her ear then crushed a handful in his fist. “Soft. I like it.”

  His own unbound hair brushed her shoulder when he lowered his head. Vaguely aware of Alex burrowing between her spread legs and blowing gently on her damp flesh, she turned and accepted Philippe’s kiss. Gentle at first, he suddenly claimed her mouth with a smooth thrust of his tongue. He nibbled at her lips while Alex tongued her clit. Their combined assault made her arch against them, demanding more.

  She wanted release. Needed to let loose the painful pressure that built low in her belly with every carnal thrust, each slick abrasion of male tongues on her most sensitive flesh. Straining, she sought release—the satisfaction she knew would only come with her vampire lovers’ massive cocks buried deep inside her. “Please,” she begged, her voice muffled by Philippe’s busy lips.

  Alex reached down and unfastened the restraints from her ankles. As though in concert, Philippe freed her cuffed hands from the headboard. Alex lifted her and impaled her on his rigid erection as Philippe moved into position behind her and slid the head of his cock past her anal sphincter. Alex controlled the pace, lifting and releasing her, obviously taking care that the pleasure of their joint penetration exceeded the stretching pain.

  Sandwiched between her two vampire lovers, Mara reveled in the heat . . . the passion . . . those rampant emotions that bombarded her, sending her tumbling over the edge to a place she’d only dreamed of. As she came she bared her throat, wanting it all. Wanting to belong to Alex and Philippe in their vampire world. A world that called out to her, enticed her to join and embrace it as she hadn’t been able to accept the strictures imposed by her mortality.