Kiss of Midnight_ A Midnight Breed Novel - Lara Adrian [1056]
She swallowed, shaking her head in mute denial.
“I didn’t want to fall in love,” she whispered. “I didn’t think I could ever again.”
He held her in a tender gaze. “And I told myself I wouldn’t.”
Jenna parted her lips, uncertain what she meant to say. An instant later, it didn’t matter. Brock drew her down to him and kissed her, wrapping her in his arms. His mouth pressed hers, his tongue pushing past her lips and driving her mad with the need for more. She ground against his hips, heat flaring brighter in her core and flowing out to her every nerve ending.
She rose up, panting now, unable to keep from moving on him as her need swelled to a fever pitch.
“You’re in control, baby,” he said, his voice thick and raspy. “Take whatever you want.”
She eyed his throat, watching the vein that pulsed so strongly at the side of his neck. Hunger kicked deep inside her, startling her with its ferocity. She pulled her gaze away and met the glittering heat of his transformed eyes.
“Anything,” he said, looking more than eager for her to have her way with him.
She rocked on him, savoring the feel of their joined bodies, and half dizzy from arousal already. Her orgasm roared up on her quickly. She tried to stave it off, but sensation flooded her as she rode the heat and power of Brock’s sex.
He watched her with avid interest, his lips pulled back off his fangs, the ropelike tendons in his neck strung tight as he arched his shoulders up off the bed. Jenna couldn’t keep her eyes from the frantic beat of his pulse. It echoed in her bones, in her own veins. In the impatient rhythm of her body as she shuddered with the sudden detonation of her release.
“Yeah,” he groaned, splaying his hands at her back and not letting her draw away when the hunger bore down on her like a tidal wave. “Let it go, Jenna. Anything you want.”
With a snarled cry she couldn’t hold back, she buried her face in the side of his neck and bit down hard. Blood surged into her mouth, hot and thick and spicy-sweet.
Brock hissed a rough curse that sounded anything but sorry. His body shook as he drove deeper inside her, every hard thrust increasing her pleasure, driving her hunger to even greater heights. He shouted as his orgasm racked him, his strong pulse drumming against the tip of her tongue as Jenna closed her lips around his open vein and began to drink.
CHAPTER
Twenty-nine
Two days had passed since the attack on Lazaro Archer’s family and the rescue mission that saved young Kellan. The boy was recovering physically from his capture and mistreatment, but Jenna knew as well as anyone that his emotional scars—the reality of all he’d lost in one hellish moment—would be with him long after the cuts and bruises had healed. She only hoped he’d find a means of coping with them in less time and self-defeating agony than it had taken her to deal with her own.
She wished the same for his Gen One grandfather, too, although Lazaro Archer hardly seemed the kind to need anyone’s sympathy. Once the funeral ceremony for his son, Christophe, had taken place at the compound, Lazaro had refused to so much as speak of that violent night. In the time since, he’d devoted himself to working closely with the Order. The Gen One civilian now appeared as determined as any of the warriors to see Dragos and his entire operation destroyed.
Jenna knew that feeling. It was maddening to think that evil like Dragos was loose in the world. He was stepping up his operation, which meant the Order could not afford to let any opportunity to gain an upper hand slip away. After what he’d been willing to do to Lazaro Archer and his family, Jenna couldn’t help worrying even more about the group of Breedmates known to be kept under his control.
At least on that front, there was a glimmer of hope. Dylan had gotten a call that morning from the administrator at Sister Margaret Howland’s retirement home in Gloucester. The elderly nun had been told about Dylan’s request for a visit, and she was excited for a little