Taken by Moonlight (9 page)

Her gaze
moved to him, and she recognized that he was walking toward her. Her breath
caught and she saw something flash in his eyes.

“I’ll walk
Ms. Bordeaux out, Rachel. Keep me updated on any other developments.”

“Yes, of
course,” Rachel replied, her voice low, with a hint of confusion.

Vivienne’s
heart raced as he walked her to the elevator. No words were exchanged, but her
body felt as if it were in overdrive. She stole a few glances at Conall, but he
was looking straight ahead. The only indication that let her know that he was
aware of her presence was his hand at her back. It was seemingly innocent, but
could be read as possessive. She briefly wondered if he knew that.

Feeling
awkward about their silence and needing something to distract her from the fact
that her underwear was growing damp, Vivienne turned to him and asked softly,
“How is your nephew?”

Eyes
burning as he looked down at her, his nostrils flared slightly. “Eli is fine.”

She nodded
and was about to follow that question with one about camping or school or
something, when an image of his body pressed against her in the club ingrained
itself on her mind once more, but this time, she saw Max pulling her away, Drew
escorting her from the club. She cast a quick glance at him, only to find that
he was watching her, his lips pursed tightly as if he were witnessing the same
vision, which was impossible, of course.

The elevator
finally arrived and she scurried onto it, fidgeting with the bag at her side as
he settled next to her. He pressed the button for the first floor and the door
closed.

“Bordeaux?” His voice jarred her from her thoughts and Vivienne cast a puzzled glance in his
direction. He stared straight ahead, and she had the perfect view of his
profile. Defined jaw, prominent nose, strong brow bone.
Gorgeous.
“Are
you French?”

“No,” she
replied a little breathlessly, feeling as if her clothing was too tight. She
could feel her nipples poking against the cotton material of the bra and was
deeply aware that the dampness in her panties had escalated. Oh Jesus, she
really
needed to get away from this man. Clearing her throat, she continued,
hoping her voice was normal. “My mother is…French, that is.”

Vivienne
tried to refocus on the images that had recently come to her. She was beginning
to think they’d actually happened, but questions remained. Why had Max pulled
her away from him? And what happened after? When was she drugged? Who’d drugged
her?

Conall
nodded, but he really wasn’t interested in her parents. He was trying to keep
his mind off her scent. The sweet muskiness of her wet sex penetrated the stale
air, and he was in no way immune to it, especially confined in an elevator. No
sane man or wolf could resist that call, and his hands fisted as he attempted
to fight his very nature.

She was
human. It would not last. He would hurt her. She would die.

By Luna, it
was impossible to ignore her, especially with her making unconscious little
sounds in her throat as she tried to stamp down her own arousal. He could feel
her distress, both with her need and the thoughts swarming her, but could only
focus on one thing. Without thinking, he reached forward and slammed his fist
against the red button at the side of the elevator. It came to a screeching
halt, and she pitched forward into his arms as he fell back against the wall.

Her eyes
widened in confusion as her hands grabbed at his shoulders.

“What are
you—?” Those words were lost in his mouth as he tasted the sweetness of her
lips. His beast surfaced as he pulled her close, capturing her sighs and moans
in his mouth, and slowly perusing her body with his hands.

Vivienne’s
bag fell to the ground and although the sound was loud enough to jar a slight
ounce of common sense back into her, she was past listening. She rocked against
him, both shocked and enthralled at the hardness that pushed into her belly.
His hand slipped underneath her shirt and she gasped, pulling her lips away
from his and placing restraining hands against his jacket.

She wasn’t
one of
those
girls, the girls who made out with their boss’s hot, rich
client in an elevator, and she wasn’t one to make out with strangers in a club,
either. Vivienne Bordeaux did not do things like this…until him.

A wolfish
smile touched his lips, and although alarm crept up her spine, her body seemed
to melt even more. Before she knew what he was doing, a hand was at her
shoulder and she was being pushed backward, up against the elevator wall. He
continued to advance until his body was once more tightly pressed against hers,
her breasts locked to his hard chest, his strong legs against hers.

“Wait,
stop—please, I can’t—I mean, I’m not like this. I don’t do things like this.”
Vivienne was shocked at the huskiness in her voice. She now understood why they
called it ‘bedroom voice.’ This was making no sort of logical sense, dammit!
She didn’t know him. Well, she’d just found out his name and his job, but that
didn’t mean…didn’t mean….

Her
thoughts left her when his lips touched a sensitive spot on her neck, one she
hadn’t even known she had. Conall’s tongue darted out and caressed it
intimately before giving her a small nip that sent rapid-fire jolts of
electricity to her nerve endings. From there, he sucked at her earlobes, and
ran his tongue along her chin as his hands skimmed her flat belly. Groaning,
Vivienne moved her hand through his mass of thick hair and kissed him hard. She
wanted him to take her, to make her his. She wanted to be his. She didn’t even
know where those thoughts were coming from but at that moment, that was what
she wanted.

As if
sensing her inner battle was lost to his appeal, Conall’s hands began opening
her blouse. Impatient with the many fasteners, he stopped halfway and ripped
the shirt open. She gasped as buttons flew all over the elevator. His warm
hands settled against her bra and he yanked that down, exposing her to sight
and touch. When his hands caressed her nipples, she screamed into his mouth,
and as his mouth left hers to suck at the budding peaks, she closed her eyes
and let it happen.

“You even
taste like peaches.”

Vivienne
barely felt when his hands moved to her pants or underwear, only recognized
when they were pooled at her feet and his fingers were playing with the short,
trimmed hairs of her juncture. A short spurt of self-consciousness ran through
her at being so exposed to this stranger, who wasn’t quite a stranger, in a
public elevator, before it vanished. His hand cupped her sex, and she gyrated
against him in wild excitement. Vivienne shuddered, and cried out when his
finger suddenly parted her folds and flickered over the hardened bud at her
apex.

Nonsensical
words left her lips as his fingers worked absolute magic. He pressed and
circled, all the while kissing, sucking, and licking at pleasure points she’d
recently discovered with him. She felt the familiar clenching in the pit of her
belly, the white-hot pressure that would soon explode as it washed over her.

Sensing her
building orgasm, Conall pressed his finger into her body. His eyes widened
briefly as he was met with tight, restrictive flesh. Wincing, Vivienne threw
back her head, exposing the long and graceful curve of her neck. To test what
he thought impossible, Conall withdrew the digit, and gently worked it back in.
She gasped this time, but he could see the slight tension at her mouth, read
the hint of pain in her eyes. He didn’t have to breach her mind to confirm what
her reaction was telling him. A virgin, he thought in awe. She had come to him
a virgin. He felt his arousal swell even more as a possessive nature he hadn’t
known before reared its head. He would be her first, her last, her only. His
finger worked slowly, but surely, pushing ahead only to retreat based on her
body’s response to the invading digit, and soon, Vivienne cried out his name.

He growled,
positive his eyes were glowing yellow and unable to control it. He could feel
the emotions running through her as if they were in his very own body. The
beast wanted her as badly as the man, but it would not be here, in a public
elevator. She was human, an innocent,
his
innocent, and unaccustomed to
the rougher aspects of mating.

Vivienne’s
hands tightened, almost painfully, in his hair and he nuzzled her cheek,
quickening the strokes of his finger as it stroked her.

Frantic
cries erupted from her throat, and her walls clenched down repeatedly as she
came apart. He watched her face, marked the small little lines that appeared in
her forehead as she came, saw her teeth bite into her bottom lip and draw
blood. A small red dot appeared and he leaned forward and kissed her, tasting
it. Like her, her blood was intoxicating. For the first time, Conall could say
he understood vampires’ fascination with it.

Stepping
away from her, Conall turned to face the steel wall opposite the elevator as he
struggled to regain control. Gripping the protruding bar, he closed his eyes
and clenched his teeth. After some seconds, he felt her move, heard the sound
of rustling clothing as she came toward him. By the time her hands landed on
his shoulders, he’d attained a certain level of control. He turned quickly and
caught her against him. He easily heard her thoughts, questioning why he’d
stopped, wanting him to take her, wanting to continue. He moaned to himself at
that seductive voice in her head, but instead of setting upon her once more, he
moved one hand backward and jolted the red button once more.

The
elevator jerked and began to descend as he released her and swiftly began
redoing the very clothing he’d undone.

“Not here,
Vivienne.” He was on his knees before her, his hands at the waist of her pants,
his eyes on her. “I want you in a bed, where I can take time caressing every
inch of your body. I want to touch you here….” His arm slid against her calf.
"And here….” He pushed off of his knees, letting his hands trail up the
backs of her thighs until they came to land against the jut of her buttocks. He
pulled her forward and she whimpered.

Come
with me, Vivienne.
His lips hadn’t moved, but it was obvious she could hear the words as clearly
as if he’d said them aloud. She nodded, apparently not trusting herself to
speak.

That was
all he needed. He turned, slid his arm possessively around her waist, and led
her from the elevator into the underground garage. Vivienne’s mind was blank to
all but him, and only one question remained:
Where is he taking me?

Chapter Four

“Have you
found her?”

“Not yet.
I’m still looking.” His voice was strong and firm, and lacked any hint that he
was lying. In truth, he had located her, but could not turn her over to them.
Not when he knew some of their intentions.

“You’ve
been looking for years.” It was said with both impatience and disappointment.
“Perhaps you are incapable of finding—”

“I
will
find her.” He had. Tracked her down as he was taught, and located her.

“Perhaps we
should send someone else.”

“No!”

A harsh
intake of breath came from the other end of the phone line, and the man who’d
uttered the almost frantic negation willed himself to be calm. “This task was
assigned to me. Give me more time and I will bring her to you.”

There was a
pregnant silence, and nothing could be heard but the sounds of calm breaths.

“I’ve given
you enough time as is and am beginning to think you incapable of getting it
done.” The voice was sharp and rebuking, and a long exhale followed it. “Two
more weeks, and then you either return with the girl or in disgrace. Is that
understood?”

“Clearly.
Two weeks.”

“Don’t you
disgrace this family, boy.”

“I won’t,
Father.”

As the
minutes rolled by, with Vivienne seated in the front of Conall’s sleek sports
car, a barrage of thoughts assailed her. She still wanted him, but without him
touching her, kissing her, running those talented hands across her skin, her
brain was honing in on things she usually remembered before jumping into a
stranger’s car for sexual purposes! Not that she’d ever,
ever
thought of
doing something like this before, or ever allowed a man to touch her so
intimately, a man she barely even knew. Her cheeks grew hot, and she tugged at
her collar as she remembered where his finger had been.

Jesus! She
was acting like a whore, and she wasn’t. She was a virgin, hadn’t even allowed
a guy to go to third base, had strangely enough, never really thought of having
sex before, and now she was going somewhere with a
stranger
for that
purpose. She didn’t even know where he was taking her. He would expect her to
know what she was doing, and she didn’t. He could be anything: rapist,
murderer, sociopath, or combination of all. Oh God, he could probably hurt her.