Master of Passion Read online

  Opal had expected him to be a little soft, but there was nothing whatsoever soft about Adam Parker. All her lovers had been well muscled -- they, too, fought for living -- but his body was just as sculpted, just as lean. And his hands felt so good on her hungry flesh.

  “I think we should do this somewhere other than on a barstool,” she whispered against his mouth. She rose, grabbed him by one hand and gave him a tug, pulling him easily to his feet with casual Maja strength. He blinked, startled, but she just pulled him across the kitchen and out the door into the courtyard beyond, with its explosion of bougainvillea, roses and hummingbird fuchsia.

  She pushed him gently toward the fountain in the center of the garden. As they walked, she drew on her magic and sent it spilling to coalesce into a pile of pillows and a thick, soft mattress spread out across the courtyard tile.

  This had been one of Joaquin’s favorite places, and they’d made love here any number of times. But she forced the memories away.

  She wanted this, she realized. Wanted a man for the first time since Joaquin had died. Actually wanted sex, and not just because it offered the momentary illusion her life wasn’t as flat and gray as an old photograph. She wanted Adam, despite the fact that he was prickly, paranoid, maddening… and impossibly seductive.

  As the heat in her blood rolled hot and fierce, she pulled Adam down into the pile of pillows. Grabbing the hem of his T-shirt, she pulled it off over his head. Broad, pale muscle rolled. The house’s interior lights poured through the stained-glass windows, painting big blocks of turquoise, orange, blue and yellow over the courtyard garden.

  He pulled off her top and tossed it aside, then reached around her to unfasten her bra. Slowly, he slid it down off her shoulders. His eyes went wide as he gazed at what he’d revealed, something almost awed in his expression. “God, you’re beautiful.” His gaze flicked up to hers. Then he leaned forward and his mouth covered her nipple, suckling, tugging.

  Somehow it all felt brand new, as if she was a virgin. Her entire nervous system lit up in blocks of gorgeous delight. Letting her eyes fall closed, she stroked the broad muscle of his shoulders, teasing his small, bare nipples, tracing the washboard contours of his ribs as his tongue licked and played over first one breast and then the other.

  Sweet, feathering pleasure bloomed over her skin like enormous flower petals. Heat rushed into her pussy the way it hadn’t since Joaquin’s death. Hell, she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d masturbated. Seemed like too much trouble for too little reward, nothing but a painful reminder of everything she’d lost. But now her entire body seemed to be coming alive again, her skin going hypersensitive, craving his.

  Adam spilled her backward onto the pile of cushions, licking and sucking and playing, tracing the curve of one breast, then sliding to the one opposite for a leisurely nibble. One hand slid under the waistband of her panties, down her belly and between her legs. He purred in satisfaction at what he found.

  Opal groaned, astonished at how wet she was. How wet he’d made her. Guilt started to surface, but before it could rear above the lake of pleasure, Adam closed his mouth tighter around her nipple and began to suck in hard, almost painful draws that made her gasp. All that exquisite hair of his spilled across her body, tickling her skin when he moved his head. Cool silk contrasted with the hot muscle of his body. Opal wrapped a fist in it, loving the way the strands felt in her hands.

  She stroked him with her free hand, exploring the thick ridges of muscle, discovering a surprising number of scars -- thin silver ridges, a pattern of dimples that ran across the back of his shoulder, each of them irregular, jagged. “Is this shrapnel?”

  “Roadside bomb. War stories later.”

  And she had to agree as he nibbled and kissed his way down her torso.

  Chapter Four

  God, Opal was amazing. Adam had made love to a lot of women -- enjoyed the challenge of finding what touches and kisses made them go wild under him. Thin ones, plump ones, various races, he loved them all. Still, the only other woman who’d had this much appeal for him had been Branwyn, and she’d had none of Opal’s physicality.

  Opal’s body was every bit as athletic as he’d suspected, lean and long and strong. Yet there was a softness about it too, a padding beneath the skin that revealed her build wasn’t the product of juice cleanses and ruthless diets. Her breasts were exquisite, soft, sweet mounds topped with small pink nipples that made Adam think of candy.

  Her long hair tumbled across the pillow in vivid copper strands that curled around her face, and her gray eyes were wide as she looked down the length of her body at him.

  She licked her lips and spoke in a low growl. “My turn.”

  Before Adam could object, she reared, caught his shoulders, and flipped him neatly off her with an astonishing strength, considering how much he outweighed her.

  Well, of course. Majae were stronger than mortals, Opal’s spell informed him helpfully. Even Latents, who were stronger than ordinary humans the same size and sex.

  She sat up, throwing a long leg over his hips, then slid astride his thighs. Opal brushed her fingers to the curls on his chest and gave him an impish smile of approval. “I see you don’t manscape. That’s good.”

  “Well, at least you like something about me,” he said dryly.

  “Oh, I like plenty about you,” she said, and bent her head to one tight male nipple, traced a hot circle around it with her pointed pink tongue. Caught it between her teeth and tugged.

  Rumbling in approval, Adam cupped her right breast, tugged its nipple into a tight, eager point. He could smell her arousal, and his mouth flooded with saliva.

  God, he wanted to taste her pussy. But it was out of reach -- and getting further away as she kissed and licked her way down his chest, exploring a ridge of muscle here, nibbling the jut of a hipbone there. And getting awfully close to his cock. It rose from its nest of blond hair, slate hard and aching.

  Opal paused to study the thick shaft with an approving purr, then wrapped her fingers around its base. Angling it upward, she closed her mouth around its velvet glans.

  Wet. Hot. Slick teeth and nubby tongue all added together to create a delicious rainbow of sensation as she sucked. Opal worked him, bobbing her head up and down. The pleasure was so intense that it drew his spine into a bow and dragged strangled gasps from his mouth.

  Fisting his hands into all that glorious red hair, Adam realized he wasn’t going to last much longer. “Want to put my mouth on you too,” he gasped, bearing down, fighting the molten rise of pleasure. “Sixty-nine.”

  Opal looked up at him, an impish smile curving lush lips. “Far be it for me to disappoint…” She rose to her hands and knees and rearranged herself head down along his body, providing him with a delicious view of her lovely ass and red-haired pussy. She didn’t shave, much to his delight. Yeah, she definitely doesn’t disappoint.

  Opal moved until she was straddling his face, and he found himself enclosed by warm pale skin and tight, muscular thighs. Breathing deeply, Adam contemplated her cinnamon curls. Then, lifting his head, he drank in the rich, wet scent of her. God, she was almost as turned on as he was.

  Adam slid a finger between her plump, rosy lips and found she was indeed deliciously slick. He angled his head and gave her a long slow lick, passing over her clit, between inner and outer lips, drinking in the scent and taste of her. His eyes almost rolled back from the sheer eroticism of the moment.

  Wet lips closed around his shaft, sucking hard, drawing him in. Jolts of pleasure began to surge through his body, electric snaps so incredibly intense as to verge on pain. But fuck, it was hot. And not a feeling he’d ever experienced before. Was it the Gift?

  But it was way too soon for that, and Opal was sucking more and more of him into her deliciously skilled mouth and letting him feel just the edges of her teeth around his shaft.

  With a deep groan, Adam went back to licking, wanting to give her the same kind of hot pleasure. He danced his tongue
over and around her clit and sank his thumb into her pussy, enjoying the wet squelch as he licked her, fighting to focus on those exquisite sensations instead of the intense pleasure she gave him. As Opal stroked the length of his cock, he could feel the orgasm building in his balls in coils of heat, his cock growing even harder.

  A wild arousal rose in him, something almost feral. Oh fuck, I’m going to embarrass myself. He was too damned close to the edge. Adam dragged his head away from her pussy, fighting the burning wave of climax. With a growl, he wrapped his mouth around her clit, sucking hard, drawing deep. He had the satisfaction of hearing her moan.

  Suddenly concerned, he let go for a moment. “Good?” He couldn’t manage any question more coherent than that, not with what felt like half of his blood in his dick.

  She let go of his cock and gasped, “Fine, excellent, more!”

  He grinned, and then had to suck back a gasp as she wrapped her lips around his cock and sucked so hard, he thought for a moment she was going to inhale the contents of his balls. It would probably kill him, but it would be a delicious way to die.

  Adam dove back into her pussy, ignoring the ache in his neck muscles as he licked and tasted, sliding one hand between their bodies to caress the sweet curve of her breast. He wanted her to come, damn it.

  Adam slid two fingers into her pussy, pushed and stroked, searching for that little rough patch of the G spot. There.

  He fastened his lips around her clit again and sucked hard, simultaneously curling his fingers back and forth over the spot. To his satisfaction, she gasped around his cock, her long body beginning to coil and jerk. Her orgasmic moan was muffled by his width. There you go, he thought in satisfaction and pulled harder.

  Opal released his cock and threw back her head, angling her hips downward. He took the hint, widening his mouth, sucking until she writhed against him. “Jesus!” she cried out.

  Then she jerked away from him. He grabbed for her, but before he could try to wrestle her back onto his mouth, she turned, grabbed his cock, and impaled herself on it right to the balls.

  The slide into her tight, incredible pussy made him shout.

  Opal reared above him, her face framed in wild red curls, her eyes wide, irises thin circles of smoke gray around huge pupils. She started fucking him, driving up and down, her pretty mouth twisted in a snarl of arousal.

  Long, sweet, breathtaking strokes. And Adam met her, driving upward, fighting to match her rhythm as the pleasure built and built and built, a roaring hot pressure in his balls.

  Opal screamed, throwing her head back, red hair sliding, dancing around her shoulders and bouncing breasts. Her torso stretched upward as she bowed her spine, grinding down on him. Perfect.

  The orgasm came pulsing out of his balls. He bellowed as it seemed to grab his brainstem and shake his entire nervous system like a terrier with a rat. And there was no room for anything else in his mind but her, wild and hot and writhing.

  Opal’s thrusts slowed, and so did his, until at last she tumbled forward onto his chest. Panting, Adam wrapped his arms around her and drew her close. Kissing the tumbled silk of her hair seemed like the most natural thing in the world to do. They lay together, flesh to flesh, breathing hard, recovering. And it felt… Good. So, so good. This hard warrior woman had a soft side after all. And she felt absolutely delicious in Adam’s arms.

  Opal made a soft, choked sound, but he was too blinded by the afterglow to wonder what it meant. At last he managed to rasp, “That was… incredible!” His voice sounded a little hoarse. She made no answer, but he heard another of those choked little gasps. Adam frowned and lifted his head, catching Opal’s chin in one hand until he could angle her face up. “Hey, is something…”

  Something glistened on one high, pale cheek. She was crying. Here Adam was, euphoric from the best sex he’d ever had -- and he’d had some pretty good sex -- and Opal was wearing an expression of misery and heartbreak.

  Adam jolted onto his elbows. “Shit, did I hurt you?” He didn’t think he’d been that rough.

  “No.” Opal pulled away from him and swiveled to sit on the conjured mattress, wiping her face with both hands. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

  He eyed her. “Yeah, that’s definitely why you look as if I’d killed your puppy.”

  “It’s just… Never mind.” She rose to her feet, gesturing, and suddenly she was fully dressed in a flowing green silk caftan that covered her from neck to toes.

  Adam rose to his feet, frowning. “Opal, what’s wrong? Are you sure I didn’t…”

  “No. No, it’s not you, okay?” she said, her voice ragged, clogged with tears.

  She gestured, and that familiar wave of tingling sparks raced over Adam’s skin. He looked down to see he was now fully dressed in blue silk pajamas. He hadn’t worn pajamas since he was ten. “Opal…”

  “You were great,” she said raggedly, then turned and fled inside.

  “Motherfucker!” Adam snarled, picked up a pillow, and pitched it across the courtyard.

  * * *

  It was just sex, Opal told herself as she paced her bedroom. I’ve had sex before. Not often, true, but she’d had it. And if Alys was right, she’d have it again -- with Adam.

  Adam, who’d driven Joaquin completely from her mind. In the handful of times she had sex over the past decade, she’d never gotten that turned on. Hell, she’d never even come. Adam had made her come twice, so hard she’d seen stars.

  It still wasn’t as good as it had been with Joaquin, she told herself stubbornly. I loved Joaquin. Adam’s just somebody I have to Gift.

  The sound of footsteps on the stairs jolted her from her preoccupation. Adam stopped outside her door. Oh shit, he needs a place to sleep. “There’s a guest room across the hall,” Opal called through the door. “You can sleep there if you like.”

  “Fine.” The door banged shut behind him.

  Opal winced before a defensive anger came to the rescue. What the hell does he have to be angry about?

  Well, you’re being rude as hell. He made exquisite love to you, and you rewarded him by dissolving into tears and running off without telling him why.

  Okay, maybe Adam had reason to be pissed. But… Opal was just supposed to give him the Gift, not get emotionally involved.

  I’m not emotionally involved. I fucked him -- once.

  You’re going to have to fuck him twice more, retorted that relentless mental voice. And it won’t be a hardship. He made you feel alive for the first time since you watched Joaquin die.

  Goddamnit. Feeling as if she was going to jump out of her skin, Opal whirled to face the door. She couldn’t do this. She had to get the hell out of the house. Just for a few minutes, just to clear her head. But as she started for the stairs, she found herself hesitating outside his door. “I’m going for a walk,” she called. “I’ll be back.”

  Adam pulled the door open and studied her, frowning. He was still wearing the pajamas she’d conjured in a fit of belated prudishness, but the top hung open across his broad chest, and his big feet were bare. “Earlier… Did I hurt you? Because if I did…” There was genuine worry in his eyes.

  “No, it’s just…” Opal broke off, unable to put the whole mess into words. “Bad memories.”

  Adam studied her face. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. It’s just bad memories.”

  Understanding dawned over Adam’s face. “Joaquin?”

  Opal looked away. “Yeah.”

  Adam shifted his weight, and muscle flexed and rolled, revealed by the open top. “It’s okay to take some time. I know we’re on a schedule, but your feelings matter. I can wait until you’re ready.”

  Opal dragged her gaze away and swallowed, touched at his perception. “Thank you. I’ll… talk to you when I get back.” She headed for the stairs. She could almost feel him watching her go.

  * * *

  Opal strode along the cobblestone street. The crowd had thinned as agents headed home to make love or eat or
just relax. In a couple of hours, sunrise would render all the vampires comatose in the Daysleep.

  She and Adam didn’t have long to complete the process. She really needed to get back. But…

  Opal could almost feel the Joaquin-sized emptiness at her side. In her aching heart. How could Adam have made her forget Joaquin, even for an hour? He was just an assignment. Yeah, he was good in bed. Really good. But she hadn’t even known Adam a day, for God’s sake. How was he getting to her like this?

  Suddenly Alys stepped out of the darkness, arms folded, wearing an expression of irritation. “You do realize I would much rather be in bed with Davon right about now?”

  Opal glowered, in no mood for the lecture her friend obviously had in mind. “What’s stopping you?”

  “Visions.” The word emerged on a growl. She grabbed Opal’s arm with strong Maja fingers and pulled her across the cobblestone street to the house Alys and Davon shared.

  “I’m just taking a walk,” Opal protested, pulling back against her grip. “I’ll finish the job.”

  Alys only tightened her hold and manhandled her through the garden to the porch that wrapped around the house. “Yeah, but first you’re going to talk to me.”

  There were a lot of quirky homes in Avalon, but Alys’s was one of the strangest as it rolled over the landscape like some great hunched beast. Cedar shingle siding covered it like scales, giving its curving contours a resemblance to an anteater called a pangolin. Apparently, there was a safari lodge like it somewhere in South Africa her friend had fallen in love with during a vacation trip. She’d conjured a replica on her return.

  Opal eyed Alys’s stony profile uneasily. “What did you See now?”

  “I’ll tell you what I see now,” she growled, plunking down in a bowl-shaped wicker chair hanging from a chain. It swayed back and forth, and Alys stopped it by stomping one foot down on the porch floor with an infuriated thump. Her brown eyes snapped, and Opal realized she’d rarely seen her friend so angry. “I see someone stupidly intent on punishing herself for staying alive. You can’t crawl into the afterlife after Joaquin. He’s dead and you’re not. You will hopefully live for centuries longer, assuming you don’t get yourself killed in the next week. Which is by no means a sure thing, particularly if you don’t drag your head out of your own ass. The trouble is, you’re going to end up taking Adam and Ulf with you, and neither of them deserves it. Not that you do either, but you don’t seem to give a fuck.”