Taken by Sin

CHAPTER NINE

Isabelle absorbed the shock of Dalton’s kiss. Her toes curled, her hair stood on end. She sizzled all over as if she’d experienced a lightning strike. And oh, it was the sweetest lightning ever.

Actual lightning pulsed just beyond them, along with a driving rain that seemed to feed off her needs. The primal energy of the storm surrounding them matched her own rising passion.

She knew it was going to be like this with Dalton-a wild maelstrom of intense heat turning her insides to liquid. Her nipples hardened against his chest, tingling every time he shifted to press closer against her. The length of his cock, hard and insistent along her hip, whipped her into a fury of desire. She slid her hands around to his back and lifted his shirt, needing to press herself against his bare skin. She wanted much more than this, but just to be able to touch him was going to have to do for now.

As it was, she was dizzy under the assault of his mouth as he performed magical things, his lips sliding against hers in a slow, tender dance. Could a woman faint from being kissed? She was losing her mind, every nerve ending in her body sizzling. She needed to quench this fire, and the only one who could do that was Dalton.

A kiss wasn’t going to be enough. She needed more. She lifted her leg, wrapped it around his hip, and surged against him in an effort to get closer, to communicate her needs. Dalton dragged his lips from hers and kissed her jaw, then reached behind her and grasped her hair, jerking her head back to bare her neck so he could lick the side of her throat.

God, the sensations were intense, like fire licking along her skin. He kissed her neck, her shoulder, still holding on to her hair so she couldn’t move, couldn’t look at him. She was stretched in an impossible position, her back arched, yet she wasn’t uncomfortable at all. Not with the way he took possession of her. She wanted more of his mouth and his teeth grazing over her skin. When he bit lightly into the tender skin between her neck and shoulder, she shuddered.

“More. Please, Dalton, hurry.” She lifted her hips, searching out the hard, hot part of him that would give her the greatest pleasure.

“Not yet,” he growled against her neck, then moved up and took her mouth in another kiss that blindsided her, left her breathless and clinging to sanity. She palmed his back, then moved her hands forward to touch his abdomen, feeling his muscles flinch there, loving that he reacted to her this way. When she moved her hand lower and dipped it inside the waistband of his shorts, he dragged his mouth from hers and pulled her head forward to look her in the eyes.

She gasped at the darkness she saw in his eyes, the hunger. He barely looked human. A normal woman could almost be afraid of a look like that, because it meant he’d lost control, that he was ready to take what he wanted.

She wasn’t a normal woman, and she wanted to give him whatever he wanted to take. And then she wanted to take from him. Whatever she wanted.

She wanted a lot.

“Yes,” was all she said, and Dalton scooped her up in his arms, pushing the front door open and kicking it closed behind him.

She thought he’d carry her to one of their beds. She was wrong. He marched the short distance into the kitchen, swept the napkins and a few other things off the kitchen table with one swoop of his hand, and laid her on top of it, then nudged the chair out of the way and loomed over her.

Her body prickled with desire. She felt like a feast. His feast. She bit down on her lower lip to keep from whimpering, then raised her hands to his wet shirt, dragging it up. He lifted, jerked the shirt off, then reached for her top, spreading both his hands underneath it, using his knuckles to raise it inch by inch over her stomach, her ribs, finally baring her breasts.

“Too damned beautiful,” he murmured. She sensed he wasn’t all there anymore, like he was in some kind of trance. She didn’t care, as long as whatever had taken hold of him took them where they needed to go, where she’d needed to go for a long time with him.

He cupped one breast and took her nipple into his mouth, devouring it like a man starved. He sucked, licked, rolled his tongue over the taut bud, teasing the piercing there until the sensations were like shooting fireworks, all heading south to that spot that burst with crazy need. Then he tormented the other nipple with the same sweet pleasure. She tangled her fingers in his hair and held on tight, certain she wasn’t going to survive Dalton’s lovemaking. It was equal parts tender and torturous, ratcheting up her desire to explosive levels. She felt like she was climbing a ladder one rung at a time, and unable to see the top. She knew there was nirvana up there, but she couldn’t quite make it. She needed help.

“Dalton.” His name left her lips on a ragged gasp as he slid his hand over her belly, delving into her shorts to cup her sex. He parted the folds of her moist and needy flesh, dipping into her core, exploring her with soft, deliberate strokes that sent her spiraling into oblivion. She’d gone too long without and this was exactly what she craved, but she wanted to hold on, to take him with her.

But Dalton was relentless, using his fingers to stroke her into madness. He dipped, caressed, demanded her response that she couldn’t hold back. She climaxed with a blinding cry that Dalton absorbed with a deep kiss, shattering her completely. He held her while she rocked against him. She was too drugged with passion to do anything but hold on to him and tremble against his lips.

Her orgasm only served to whet her appetite for more. But when he removed his hand, he pulled her to a sitting position and backed away, dragging his hand through his hair. She saw apology in his eyes, regret, all the things she didn’t want to see.

Shaking from the aftereffects, she slid her legs over the table. “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. I just … don’t think it’s a good idea to go further.”

“Why?”

“Because we should take this slow.”

The heat of embarrassment and anger suffused her face. She’d asked, and he’d answered. She’d wanted this tonight for so many reasons. To comfort him, yes, but also because she’d thought they were growing closer.

Obviously, she was wrong. He still thought of her as a demon, not a human. Not a woman. Oh, sure, he could get the hots for her, but he couldn’t see it through, because bottom line, she had demon blood. He could talk a good game about trust, but he really didn’t trust that she wouldn’t sprout fangs while in the middle of sex and try to kill him.

Could she blame him for that?

She jerked her T-shirt down to cover herself.

Dalton leaned against the counter, shirtless, his shorts riding dangerously low on his hips. The evidence of his desire was still outlined for her to see, to want. She was consumed with this inexplicable need to leap off the table and throw herself at him. Her body throbbed all over.

“I’m sorry, Isabelle. This is my fault. I got carried away.”

Un-freaking-believable. He couldn’t handle the demon side of her. He wanted a human lover, not a freak show. It was all too clear. She just wished he’d figured it all out before she’d become emotionally invested.

Way to go, Isabelle. One mistake after another.

“I don’t feel well. I’m going to bed.”

“Isabelle …”

“Save it, Dalton. You’ve said enough.” She hopped off the table and dragged the remnants of her dignity out of the room before she did something stupid. Like cry in front of him like some … girl.

She shut the door to her room and turned her back to the door, blinking back the hot splash of tears she couldn’t seem to will away.

She used to be a lot stronger, used to be the one in control of men and relationships. When did that all change? When had she gone weak in the knees over a man? How could she let him manipulate her feelings like this?

How could she have let her heart get involved?

Damn him.

Well, that went well. There were so many reasons to go after Isabelle. Dalton wanted to explain why he’d pulled away. All the reasons why he hadn’t wanted to stop. But really, what would be the point? He’d already hurt her enough. It was best to just let her go.

He should have never started in the first place. So much for his self-control, for his determination of logic over lust. One look at her outside, wet from the rain, one whiff of her sweet scent, and he’d gone after her like some kind of wild animal with one intent in mind. He’d wanted her. That’s all he’d thought about. Not the repercussions. Not all the reasons he shouldn’t. Just the one reason he should.

Because he wanted her. And he’d had her, coming apart under his hand, breathing in the scent of her desire, feeling her moist heat clenched around his fingers and knowing in seconds he could be inside her, joined with her.

And then he’d stopped. Which was a good thing.

Right?

Shit. He went to the fridge and grabbed a beer, popped the top off and took a long pull, letting the icy cold liquid slide down his throat. Maybe it would chill out the heat Isabelle had caused.

She hadn’t seemed demonic at all when he’d kissed and touched her. She’d told him she was fully human, had asked for his trust in her. She’d been with him, in the moment, clearheaded and all female. His balls were twisted into knots remembering how she responded to his touch, to his mouth. Though he knew he shouldn’t, he still wanted her with a fierceness that defied all reason. It wouldn’t take much for him to stalk into her bedroom, take her into his arms and show her with his mouth and body how much he really did need her.

Which was what really shocked him, his need for her. He’d never needed anyone before, but the thought of being without Isabelle left a hole inside him.

Maybe that’s what scared him. They weren’t lovers; she didn’t belong to him. She was here because he’d made it his mission to help her, to integrate the demonic side of her with the human side. He hadn’t brought her here to love her. But touching her, being with her, brought something magical out of him.

She also touched his dark side. Something about her made him … hungry.

He’d lost control with Isabelle once in Sicily, had done something he knew he had no business doing. Something that wasn’t in the Realm’s plans. She tapped into a part of him that made him defy what he was, what he had pledged to be.

If he had any chance at redemption, he couldn’t go there again. Which meant he had to be hands-off with Isabelle. He couldn’t trust who he became when he was with her.

Wind howled, lashing limbs against the windows. Lightning lit up the sky like midday, and thunder crashed all around.

Yeah, that fit his mood. Dark, brooding, and just plain pissed off.

He grabbed his jacket, put on his shoes, and headed toward the main house, ignoring Mother Nature’s warning blasts against him as he fought his way along the path. He entered the back of the house, pulled off his jacket, and went in search of Georgie. She was in the library, reading a book by candlelight. She looked up when he entered, seemingly unsurprised to see him.

“There’s tension in you. Something else.” She studied him, her lips pressed firmly together before turning down in a disapproving frown. “Passion. What did you do?”

He dragged his wet hair away from his face. “Nothing. I don’t know. Something, maybe.”

Georgie laid the book on the table and laid her hands in her lap. “Come sit down and tell me.”

He did, taking a seat in the chair across from hers. It was old, but still well cushioned, and he sank into it with a sigh. He’d like to stay here and hide, but he was no coward.

Then again, maybe he was.

“I feel something for Isabelle. But it’s like dynamite when we’re together. Tonight, we came close …”

“You sense danger when you’re passionate with her?”

Did he? He thought about it. “No. Before, yes, but tonight, no. She was human when we were …together.” This wasn’t the easiest thing to talk about.

“Then why the hesitation?”

“I don’t know.”

“Dalton, I can’t help you if you aren’t honest with me.” She leaned forward and held out her hands. He laid his palms over hers, feeling the surge of heat that he’d felt with her great-grandmother whenever she’d touched him.

Georgie closed her eyes and hummed, rocked slightly back and forth. Dalton knew not to disturb her when she went into this kind of trance.

“You’re not afraid of Isabelle,” she said, tenderness and concern reflected in her chocolate brown eyes. “You’re afraid of yourself.”

He let his hands slide from hers. What could he say to that? She was right. “I pushed her away tonight, Georgie.”

“Did you want to?”

“No.” Hell, no.

Georgie nodded. “By protecting yourself, you’re hurting Isabelle.”

“I know.” He had seen that in Isabelle’s face.

“Wanting to help her is noble. But you need to make some decisions. Either decide to help her and keep your distance, or decide you want to be more to her than just her savior. What you’re doing to her now is confusing her. You’re doing more harm than good, Dalton.”

And here he thought he couldn’t feel any worse. “You’re right.”

“But don’t be with her out of guilt,” Georgie said, her lips curving into a knowing smile. “A woman can always tell. She needs you, Dalton, in ways even you don’t yet understand. You just need to be clear in your motivations. Either help her get through this with all you have-and by that I mean body, heart, and soul-or leave her alone.”

Dalton already knew which way he had to go, because the thought of never touching Isabelle again caused him physical pain.

He was going to have to figure out how to deal with this-having her and still doing what he needed to do. He wasn’t sure how he could do both, but maybe an honest approach was a good way to start.

It would sure be a first for him.

Tase sat in the darkness, smiling.

Isabelle’s power was strong. He only had to keep pushing her, to bring the darkness within her to life again, and watch it grow.

Oh, she still fought him, but her resolve weakened. And Tase felt her. Every time the dark side of herself tried to emerge, he felt her. And the more the demon blood in her surged, the happier Tase became.

Because with his guidance, her human side had no chance to win.

It would only be a matter of time now. Soon the Isabelle he wanted would surface completely. Then he’d have his Queen of Darkness again, under his control and ready to do his bidding. The human Isabelle was weak. His queen would be powerful, a half-human puppet whose strings he could manipulate as he desired.

And her first task would be to bring about her lover’s downfall. Tase looked forward to the day when Isabelle destroyed Dalton.

The Master would be pleased by that coup, the bringing in of not only Isabelle, but Dalton, too.

Tase’s smile slid into a wide grin, and he let the flames surrounding him explode into a shower of orange and red fire, enveloping him like a blanket.