The Nightwind's Woman Read online

  She went to him, placed her hand in his and he lowered his knee so she could sit beside him, their fingers entwining as she laid her head on his shoulder.

  Fireflies flitted around the gazebo and once again the loon called to its mate. It was such a lonely call as it echoed over the moon-shot lake.

  “Tell me what you want, küçüğüm,” he commanded, calling her his little girl. She didn’t know how she knew the word, but she did.

  “You,” she said, lifting her head to look up at his profile. All she saw were shadows but when he turned his face down to her, the gleaming chatoyance of his eyes took her breath away.

  “You have me,” he said and released the chain to fan the backs of his fingers along her left cheek. “You always have and always will.”

  “I want you to love me,” she said.

  “You already know I love you, Kenzi,” he replied.

  She could not place his brogue. She thought it sounded Scottish yet there was something else threaded through it that sent a chill down her spine. It curled in her womb, extending tendrils of hot, slick pressure.

  “Make love to me, shadowman,” she pleaded. She smoothed her hand over the silk of his midnight-colored shirt. Beneath her palm, his muscles flexed stony hard—the pebbles of his nipples sliding along her flesh.

  He unlaced their hands and got to his feet. The iridescent light in his eyes shone down on her as he leaned over and swept her into his arms, lifting her high against his chest.

  As he always did in her dreams, he carried her from the gazebo and into the lush, cool dampness of the night. His long legs took them into the ebony darkness of the forest—his bare feet making no sound.

  Deep into the pine-scented greensward, he carried her until he came to the raintree. Its golden boughs gleamed in the moonlight. Kneeling, he placed her gently on a bed of lacy ferns and she looked up at him outlined in the rays of the harvest moon.

  “Do you love me, McKenzi Delaney?” he asked.

  “With all my heart,” she answered and shivered as his strong hands went to the buttons of his shirt.

  “Do you willingly give yourself to me?” he asked as he unbuttoned the garment.

  He shrugged the shirt from his broad shoulders, his flesh glowing warmly in the ambient light.

  “I am yours,” she said for she knew that was what he wanted to hear. “For now and for always.”

  She saw him nod. His hands dropped to the belt at his waist and when he unbuckled it, she swept her tongue over her dry lips, feeling the heat gathering and moistness forming between her legs.

  “For now and for always,” he repeated, drawing the belt from the loops of his pants.

  “Yes,” she whispered. The blood was thundering in her ears as she watched him work free the pearl buttons along his fly. Her avid gaze followed him as he stood then pushed the black pants from his hips. Though she could not see it in the dark, she knew his cock was thick and hard—steel encased in velvet—jutting from the juncture of his thighs, a pearly drop of expectation clinging to the broad tip.

  “You belong to me,” he said as he dropped to his knees. He put his hands on hers to push her legs apart, wedging himself between them as he eased the hem of her nightgown up her thighs. He ran his palms up and down her flesh. “As all the women of your line have belonged to me.”

  She didn’t understand his words—never had—but they made her feel connected to him in a way she embraced completely. He was her midnight lover, her phantom seducer, her shadowman. His nightly visits since her eighteenth birthday were as essential to her as the air she breathed. She needed the warmth of his hands, the pleasure he gave so freely, so thoroughly. The weight of his body, the hardness of his cock, the claiming—everything that turned her inside out—had begun ten years earlier. Now, she was addicted to her sensual specter.

  “Love me,” she whispered.

  “Always.”

  He ran his hands down to her knees, cupped them underneath, lifting so her legs were crooked. He pushed her knees far apart, opening her up to his heated gaze. Feather-soft, his fingers moved to the folds of her entrance. His thumb grazed over the clit and she arched her back, wriggled her hips on the damp ferns. With his hands splayed at the creases of her groin, he gently eased the folds aside and used the tips of his thumbs to push back the clitoral hood. Leaning forward, he blew a hot breath across the swollen, exposed nubbin.

  “Ah!” she sighed, her hips thrusting in invitation.

  He stroked his thumbs down the folds on either side—slowly, sensuously. Down then up again, dragging his short nail against the sensitive flesh. He used the pad of one thumb to spiral circles around and the around the clit.

  She writhed beneath his touch, wishing she could see his face but the moon was behind him, the branches overhead blocking most of the light. All she could see were those burning amber eyes staring into hers.

  He moved one thumb to her opening and inserted it into the soft channel.

  “Yes!” she whispered. “Yes!”

  In partway. Out. In again—all the way to the base of his thumb. Out. In. Slow and firm, moisture building with every pass.

  “So hot,” he said in that deep voice. “So wet for me.”

  She wanted to reach up, to wrap her arms around his neck, to bring his mouth to hers, but that was forbidden. He never allowed her to touch him once he brought her to the greensward. He demanded she lay as still as her body would allow—hands at her side while he pleasured her with his.

  “Let me worship you,” he insisted. “Let me do what no other man ever could.”

  Kenzi was not inexperienced with men. She’d lost her virginity long ago in high school but none of the experiences she had gained in college or medical school could compare to the exacting expertise plied by her phantom lover. No man did to her body the things the shadowman did. No pleasure had ever been as great as that he bestowed so firmly.

  Withdrawing his thumb, he inserted two fingers into her heat, turning them so he could press against her G-spot as he massaged her clit with his thumb.

  “Who am I, Kenzi?” he queried, gaze locked with hers.

  She swept a tongue over her top lip, curled it over the bottom one before she answered. “My master,” she replied.

  “And what do you wish from your master?”

  “Pleasure,” she said on a long sigh as he worked his fingers inside her.

  “What kind of pleasure?”

  She knew her lines. She knew what he wanted to hear—what he always wanted to hear before he began to love her in earnest. “Such as I will never know from any other.”

  He was on his knees between her spread legs. His chest was a white blur before her but she had an impression of dark, crisp hair between his pectorals—narrowing its way downward to that hard, jutting cock she sensed but could not see. He put his free hand just above her pubic bone and pressed down firmly.

  Kenzi sucked in a breath for the sensation was so intoxicating. His hand splayed over her belly, his palm pushing down with just enough heaviness to be slightly uncomfortable but the weight pushed blood into her throbbing clit and brought her G-spot closer to his questing fingers.

  “And will you serve my needs, Kenzi?” he asked, his voice a dark growl.

  “Yes,” she agreed, nodding. “Anything you want, shadowman. I’ll do anything you ask!”

  “I know,” he said. “And you will.”

  His fingers increased their speed in and out, drawing her juices forth so she could smell them, ripe and musky in the night air. A light wind blew over her naked lower body and she shivered.

  “Tell me what you want me to do.”

  “Suck my nipples,” she was quick to respond. “Lick them, bite them.”

  She knew he wouldn’t. He never did. Not once had he touched the swollen, aching, tips of her breasts. Not once had he palmed the mounds. His gaze lifted to her straining bosom—arching toward him in offering—but he ignored her gift, lowering his eyes to the juncture of her thighs. No
r had he ever kissed her. She did not know the taste or feel of his lips. She longed to have him ravage her mouth as he ravaged her cunt but he would not.

  “Please!” she begged him.

  “Not yet.”

  The answer was always the same and the frustration, the need within her to have him touch her there had built to a fiery desire that left her moaning.

  “One day,” he said. “You will have all of me one day.”

  Groaning for she knew her pleading would not sway him, she clutched handfuls of the cool ferns as he continued to ease his fingers in and out of her squirming body.

  Another finger joined its mate and she could feel his crooked little finger bumping against her anal opening. The triple assault—thumb to clit, three fingers inside her, little finger grazing her anus—made her body burn with a need that was fast pushing it toward its limit.

  “Relax, küçüğüm,” he ordered and his hand caressed her belly.

  Such large hands he had, she thought. So strong.

  Once more he increased the speed of his thrusts. The pressure was building inside her feminine channel and she could feel it spiraling closer to the surface. She dug her heels into the soft ground, lifted her hips for him to probe deeper. At the moment his crooked finger straightened and slid unerringly into her anal opening, she cried out, her vaginal walls rippling around his flesh.

  “Aye,” she heard him say. “That is what I want you to feel.”

  The orgasm seemed to go on forever. She thrashed her head back and forth, helpless to do anything except endure the intense pleasure he was drawing from her. When the last little squeeze died away, his fingers stilled inside her, his palm pressed harder against her abdomen.

  “Say it,” he demanded.

  Her blood was hammering inside her head. A light sheen of perspiration dotted her temples.

  “Say it.”

  The two words were a command she dared not deny.

  “I belong to you,” she said breathlessly. “Only to you.”

  “Aye, you do,” he said and eased his fingers from her sheath.

  Kenzi moaned. She wished he would stretch out beside her, take her into his strong arms and hold her against his broad chest but that never happened. As soon as she climaxed, as soon as she said those seven words he required, he withdrew, coming to his feet with sensuous ease.

  He held his hand out to her. With her waning strength, she lifted her own to link fingers with him. He drew her effortlessly to her feet then swept her into his arms without another word.

  As he carried her back to the gazebo and the moonlit cobblestone path, she clung to his neck. It was the only time he allowed her to do so. Once back where it all started, he set her on her feet and stepped back.

  “Soon,” he said.

  That was new, she thought as she stared into his blazing eyes, wishing she could make out his features.

  “What does that mean?” she asked.

  But he was already fading into the shadows, his body becoming transparent.

  “Wait!” she cried out. “What does that mean?”

  “Soon.” The one word drifted on the night breeze and then he was gone.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Kenzi sat up, eyes wide as she took in her surroundings. The room in which she found herself was unfamiliar and her heart thudded heavily against her rib cage as she tried to place it. She looked around her, fear flooding her mouth with a bitter taste.

  “I will be with you shortly, Dr. Delaney,” a disembodied voice said and she whipped her head around.

  On the wall behind her was what she thought a flat-screen television. On the wide screen was the face of a man she recognized. It was the man who had called himself the Supervisor, the man who had brought her—wherever the hell she was.

  “Your purse is on the table by the door if you have need of it,” he told her quietly.

  Swinging her legs from the very comfortable hospital bed upon which she was lying, she slid to the floor, hurrying over to the table. She grabbed her purse—feeling grounded by the familiarity of her possession—and clutched it to her like a lifeline.

  “Where am I?” she demanded.

  “Tearmann. Just relax. I am on my way to you,” he said then the screen went black.

  “Wait!” she yelled. She reached for the doorknob and found the portal locked. Jerking the knob, she cursed beneath her breath, pissed that she couldn’t get out.

  Fury lashed through her—along with an uneasy feeling that she had fallen all too willingly into some weird, dangerous trap.

  “Hey!” She kicked the door. “Open the damn door!”

  She heard a click as the lock disengaged and she stumbled back, heart racing so hard in her chest she thought it would rip free of her ribs. As the door opened, she held her breath but it was the smiling face of the Supervisor that greeted her.

  “The door was locked for your protection,” he said. “A prisoner from level ten escaped her cell and she’s running around up here. We didn’t want you waking up to encounter her standing over you.” He shrugged. “She wouldn’t hurt you but seeing her might well have stalled your heart.”

  “You have prisoners here too?” she asked, wondering how hideous the creature had to be to stall a heart.

  “A few. Some—like the baginis—are quite dangerous and though not always lethal, still pose problems for the human population so they must be contained.”

  “What is a baginis?”

  “She’s a creature from Australia. She has the face and breasts of a human but the rest of her looks more like a shaggy ape with mange. She has talons and oversized feet with very long toenails. She has a nasty habit of raping men.”

  “Oh, for joy,” she said.

  “Kayle is after her and he’ll catch her,” the Supervisor says. “He always does. I think she escapes just so he’ll be forced to come after her.”

  “Kayle is your alpha dog,” she commented.

  The Supervisor chuckled. “He would be insulted by the term. Nightwinds shift into feline form. If you see a large black Maine coon-type wondering around the corridors, more than likely it will be him.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “You ready for your tour?”

  She took a deep breath. “Yes sir. I am.”

  “We’ll start on this level and work our way down.”

  “We’re on the top floor then.”

  He grinned. “Yes but that floor is fifty feet below ground.”

  “I did mention I was claustrophobic, didn’t I?” she mumbled.

  * * * * *

  The baginis peeked around the corner then snapped her head back. Her tracker was down the corridor, coming straight toward her hiding place. Sliding back along the wall as quietly as her long toenails would allow, she went back into the storage room from which she’d just exited. Holding her breath, she twisted the lock although she knew it was useless. It was all over for this round. He’d now make it harder than ever for her to get free. Her shoulders drooping, she slumped against a shelf and waited for him to come pouring under the crack in the door.

  “Bastard,” she mumbled around viciously long fangs.

  At least, she thought, she’d had one nummy this outing. Last time, he’d caught her before she could find and capture a male. She put a large hand to the juncture of her legs and rubbed. Her cunt was still wet with cum and she brought her hairy palm to her nose to inhale deeply.

  “Sweet,” she said with a sigh. “So sweet.” She flicked her rough tongue over the wetness just as black mist began wafting under the door.

  She watched him begin to materialize with disinterest. Of all the males at the institute, he was the only one she had no desire to take for he was the only one she feared although she enjoyed their occasional hide-and-seek adventures. As soon as his angry face took shape, she pursed her lips.

  “I don’t need another one of your fucking lectures, Kayle,” she snapped. “I needed a cock and I took one. I am what I am. It is my nature to do
as I do.”

  “As it is my nature to stop you,” he growled back at her and snaked out a strong hand to shackle her thickly matted wrist.

  Feet dragging, she made no effort to escape him because she knew it was impossible.

  “What I should do is ask Eingana to sever the sinew that attaches you to her,” he threatened.

  “The creator goddess wouldn’t listen to a piece of offal like you, Nightwind,” she said with a grunt. “I am one of Her children.”

  “Then I’ll ask Baiame,” he countered.

  “Hush!” she gasped. “Do not speak His name aloud, fool!”

  “Like I’m afraid of Him, wench,” he scoffed. He unlocked the door, yanked it open then jerked her through the opening.

  “You should be,” she said as he dragged her along. “Lulli.”

  He stopped, turning to give her a mean look. “Call me that again and I will hurt you.”

  She lifted her head, tossing the mane of long, shaggy red hair but she did not repeat the insult that had called him a pussy boy. Her nasty smile said it all for everyone knew Nightwinds were extremely sensitive about that side of their dual natures.

  Brutally tugging her behind him, she could hear his fangs grinding. His fingers were like iron bands around her wrist and he was exerting tight pressure in a useless attempt to cause her discomfort. The pain didn’t bother her. She reveled in it, twisting her wrist within his hold to experience even more.

  “You been a bad girl again, Arika?” a cocoto demon asked as they passed him. He wobbled a claw at her. “Naughty, naughty.”

  “Leave her alone,” the Nightwind growled.

  “Help me and I’ll give you the ride of your life,” she offered.

  “Not me, wench!” the demon said with mock horror. “Best you ride the wind.”

  She spat on the floor. “I would not give this dickless wonder a second look. He leaves much to be desired with his fucking attitude!”

  “Did you not hear?” the demon queried, ignoring the warning. “Maybe he’ll be in a better mood from now on. His human is finally here.”

  The Nightwind came to a stop, whipping his head around to stare at the demon. “What did you say?”