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An Excerpt From: A TASTE FOR CONTROL
Copyright ©
PATRICE MICHELLE, 2005.
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing,
Inc.
He clasped
her wrists, halting her movements. “Enough, Rose,” he said, his tone soft
yet commanding. “You’ve begun to bleed again.”
She
pulled a wrist away from his grasp and touched her scarf. “How do you know
that?”
Duncan’s
golden gaze locked on his hands as he began to untie her scarf in unhurried
movements. I can smell your blood, he answered her mentally, his
tone gruff. She glanced at his ticcing jaw and the hard planes of his face
as she tried to decipher his mood.
She
batted at his hands. “Just get me some more bandages. I’ll be fine.”
“No!”
he barked out as he tossed the scarf to the floor. “I want to see your
wound myself.”
The
menacing look on his face warned her that she was dealing with a man who
wasn’t human, but another being entirely, a dark, dangerous, predatory
person.
Letting
her hands fall, she lifted her chin a notch as he peeled away the tape.
“Fine, you can look, but I mean it. No licking—”
“Sonofafuckingbitch!”
his hissed out as he clasped her chin and lifted it higher so he could
fully see her wound.
Rose
tensed at the anger that lashed through him. She felt every single wave as
it hit him, rolling through his body, tightening his shoulders. Ugly, dark
revenge churned in his belly, clawed in his gut.
She
gasped at the fact she could feel his emotions, experience his
ferocity. When his eyes changed from their golden amber to a burnt
orange-red, she tried to take a step back, self-preservation kicking in.
But
Duncan cupped the back of her neck and held her still as he lowered his
forehead to hers. She placed her hand on his hard chest, hoping her touch
would calm the beast that seemed to have unleashed inside him.
Duncan’s
grip tightened and he whispered in her mind, You’re mine to protect and
protect you I will.
When
she heard him take several calming breaths, her apprehension lessened. She
didn’t realize she’d been holding her own breath until she let out a sigh
of relief.
He
lifted his head, his look tortured and regretful as he met her gaze. “I
must cleanse and seal your wounds or you’ll continue to lose blood and
possibly develop an infection.”
While
he spoke, he hadn’t let her go. Instead, his hand moved from her head to
her hair as his thumb rubbed a sensitive spot behind her ear.
Her blood
pumped through her veins at a rampant pace and her breathing turned shallow
at the way he made her feel—weak, tense, excited, aroused. Rose shook her
head. “No licking.”
Duncan
raised an amused eyebrow. “Would you rather I kiss you again then?”
His sexy
accent laced his words, making her heart thud out of control. Rose quickly
tilted her head. “Fine, but don’t…don’t you enjoy it.”
He
gave her a feral smile. “I wouldn’t think of it.”
When
his tongue swiped against her wound for the first time, Rose jerked at the
initial pain. Another lick and she held back a moan as desire took over,
clenching her body. She swayed in his arms and clutched his shoulders. She
couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her lips when he went back over the
same wound another time.
She
felt his anger at James rush through her once more, vicious and ruthless as
he ran his tongue along another gash. Her body tensed, ready to pull back
at the black, violent emotions that emanated from him.
Duncan
gathered her closer, refusing to let her go. The next lave of his tongue
changed to a slow, deliberate, exploring velvet caress. The assured, erotic
pace told her he’d reined in his thought patterns to more pleasurable
considerations. Her lower belly clenched and her core flooded in liquid heat
at the sensations swirling through her.
Your
wounds are deep,
Róisín. This will take a while. The gravely sound of arousal
accompanied his words as he spoke. Her stomach clenched in response to his
husky tone. She was weakest like this, her mind most vulnerable.
“Think
of something to occupy your mind then,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone,
speaking as much for herself as for him. She needed to keep her mind
distracted from the way he made her feel, the things he made her want.
He
clutched her even closer and slid his hand down to her rear. Intentionally
pressing his erection against her, his lips grazed her jaw as he rasped, I
can think of much more interesting things I could do to occupy my mind.
“My
wounds,” she reminded him as she moved her hands to his arms. She couldn’t
stop her fingers from naturally flexing around his hard biceps.
Duncan
knew she was right. That he needed a distraction. He was supposed to be
healing her, not seducing her. Using his powers, he mentally ran his
fingers across the keys on the baby grand piano downstairs. A classical
song began to play in the background. Music had always soothed him, allowed
him to think, to focus.
Right
now he needed all the help he could get. He’d only intended to heal Rose’s
wounds, to get rid of her discomfort, but he found her scent too inviting,
the taste of her dried and fresh blood too alluring. He’d stopped speaking
verbally because he didn’t want her to see his fangs. They’d erupted at the
first taste of her blood. She didn’t need to know just how much he ached to
plunge his teeth in her throat.
He
continued to lave at her wounds, but when she said, “Ohhh, Mozart is one of
my favs,” as she began to move her hips to the beat of the music, he
groaned inwardly. His body instinctively responded to her seductive rhythm.
He slid his thigh between hers, his cock throbbing for close contact.
Duncan
needed more of a distraction. The music slowly died off and he began to
play a jazz song on his sax, accompanying with the piano.
“Hmmm,
you’ve an interesting mix of CDs,” she mused aloud. She moved to the
music’s bluesy change of pace. Subconsciously, she clutched her thighs
around his leg, riding him.
Duncan
could only grunt in response. He’d thought working two instruments at the
same time would be challenging enough to keep his mind on healing her
instead of seducing her. Something about Rose told him once he had her,
taken her blood, he’d have a hard time not wanting to do so again and
again.
He had no clue how long they’d
have to hide out here. He hoped to hell it wasn’t long because all his good
intentions were flying out the proverbial window as her heated body brushed
against his erection with her movements.
The
song moved to a higher pitch and he found his mind naturally worked the instruments
while his body reacted in kind to the faster pace. He began to move with
Rose, enjoying the brush of his cock against her lower belly as he took the
last lick to close her wounds.
When she asked, “All done?” in a trusting, panting tone,
instead of stopping as he should have, he said, “Not near enough, a
ghrá,” right before he wrapped his arms around her waist and used his
powers to raise their bodies off the ground.
CLOSE WINDOW
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