Demon Ryder Page 5
“We’ll deal with that afterward.”
She slid onto a counter stool. “After what?’
“Tests.”
“An endless barrage of tests! You can’t!”
“After we ascertain why Gizeel is here and whether or not he’s a threat, you can take him to Silver.”
“You said you weren’t tracking him.”
Deftly, he seasoned the steaks. “I can’t let him stay and wreak havoc when he can be contained.”
“We’ll contain him, figure out how he got here, and why he came then we’ll send him back.”
“The Government is concerned about the spike in negative energy erupting from Demopolis. The suspected date of Gizeel’s arrival corresponds to a spike in the increase of the number of rogues.”
“The timeline may be suspicious, but he wouldn’t hurt anyone.”
“You don’t know him.”
“You don’t either,” she shot back. “Give us twenty-four hours. Please, Ryder.”
He didn’t answer, just pinned her with an enigmatic stare.
She stayed quiet. If he weren’t considering giving in, he’d have already refused. When he returned his attention to the grill, she sighed. She could access the answer from his mind herself, but there was the pesky problem of not being able to gain entrance and it bothered her that she couldn’t.
The steaks sizzled as he plopped them onto the heat. “The Agency works closely with the CPD. Silver can attempt to locate Gizeel’s area of origination and whatever tests she deems necessary, but at seven a.m., I’m taking him to the precinct. Understood?” His voice deepened into a growl.
“You can’t give us more time?”
“I don’t take orders from you.”
“Well, who do you take them from?”
****
Ryder rinsed the lettuce, pointedly ignoring her question. “Who knows what outbreak Gizeel may cause? He poses too much of a risk among us.”
“You say that as if you live with the demons.”
He stiffened. “You know what I mean.”
She slid off the stool. “I’ll check in with Silver and let her know the timeframe.”
As she left the kitchen, Ryder let out the breath he hadn’t been aware of holding. He knew he needed to tell her the truth about his lineage, but how exactly did one broach the subject? He’d never had to bother having this conversation before because he’d confined his previous experiences with women who knew the game and didn’t question if he didn’t call the next day. Camille didn’t strike him as the hit-it-and-get-out-quick type.
How was he supposed to make it through dinner without touching the woman? He tossed the salad before removing two bowls from the cabinet. After he divulged his secret, if she stayed, great. If not...
Camille returned. This time instead of standing next to him, she stood facing him, her back against the back of the island’s counter.
“I heard you in my mind when I was looking for Gizeel. How did you do that?”
“Same way you do.”
She shook her head. “I can read peoples’ thoughts, bring up certain memories and influence their moods, but I can’t hear them in my mind.” She narrowed her eyes. “I can’t even hear your thoughts. Is that why you patrol down there?”
“Yep.”
She touched his left bicep with a soft hand. He tensed, not even having heard her move.
She stroked his muscles in a feather-light caress. “After we eat, it’ll be really late.” She trailed her nails from his elbow to his wrist then back. “Do you mind if I spend the night?”
His demon nearly appeared on the spot, but he reined it in...barely. He cleared his throat. “Not a good idea.”
After a moment, she sighed in a soft rush of air. “I know you feel something between us. I feel it too.”
“Cam – ”
“What’s holding you back? Is it someone else?”
As if anyone else could compare to her. “No!”
“Well then – ”
“I don’t need a woman in my space.”
She grinned, not stopping her exploring fingers from delving into his arm pits. “You need someone because this place is about as inviting as a hospital room.”
He couldn’t stop a smile from creasing his face as he held up a hand to ward off her wiggling digits. “Time out. I’m working here. If you want to eat, stop tickling me.”
Camille moved her fingers to his waist. “I know you’re different. I’m different.” She shrugged. “Who cares?”
He divided the salad into bowls before adding shredded cheddar cheese and olives. From the strain of keeping his demon leashed, he didn’t possess much additional energy to engage in conversation.
Camille traced the intricate circles of the tattoo on his back with a finger. “Why do you wear this on your jacket? Does it have a meaning?’
“Family crest,” he ground out.
She moved closer, causing the air to shift with what he’d come to associate as her scent, light and clean. “It’s just that all we’ve been through today, I can use something normal.”
She snaked her arms around his waist before he could move out of her way.
He stiffened at the bone-melting feel of her warm body. He was hanging on to his common sense by a thread, one that was rapidly wearing thin. He inhaled. The scent of her arousal coated the inside of his nostrils and throat. Damn it. He couldn’t recall the last time he wanted a woman like this.
“Relax,” she murmured, sliding her arms up and down his arms. “Thanks for saving me.” She stood on tiptoe to nip the flashy part of his left ear lobe. “What would I have done without you?” She paid his right earlobe the same attention.
She melded her body even closer to him. Her fingers swept across his chest to rest on his pectoral muscles.
She brushed her palms against his nipples, causing him to crave for more. Ryder cut the grill off, relinquishing the fight to concentrate on anything besides Cam, not when she was standing in his shirt and wearing nothing underneath. It was too much. Especially when his mind had leaped ahead of him, already visualizing her lying atop him, a look of utter satisfaction her face.
His hand clenched the spatula. Her breasts teased his back, her nipples taunting him with each touch of heat. He dragged in breaths to help his foggy brain function, but to no avail. His cock hardened, a state he was getting accustomed to when she was near.
Camille’s mouth, hot and wet, nibbled his neck, right below his ear. His nails shifted into claws. The spatula clattered to the stovetop in pieces. It was too late to consider the outcome of his actions. His body and mind had already decided bedding her was a foregone conclusion.
He forced his demon back, waiting until the claws disappeared before he whirled around to face her. Looking down at her pleading chocolate eyes proved his undoing. Grasping her waist, he sat her on the island countertop in one swift movement.
Camille gasped. “Give me a warning. Granite is cold.”
“Won’t be for long.”
She wrapped her legs around his hips as his firm lips covered hers, demanding a response. An uncontrollable shiver of pleasure ran the length of her body. She’d wanted this from him ever since she saw him.
His large hands cradled her face. His tongue swiped across her bottom lip requesting entry before he demolished her senses by laying claim to every inch of her mouth.
She sank her fingers into his hair. “More,” she mumbled against his lips.
“I don’t think you can handle it.”
She reached down, caressing him through the briefs. At his groan, she replied, “If not, I’ll have fun trying.”
Ryder’s lips wreaked havoc with her senses until raw need proved the singular motivation. He hadn’t even touched her body and he already had her writhing in search of release. The maddening lips traveled across her neck, setting off mini-eruptions along the way.
“Is this what you want?” he whispered against her right earlobe. A second later, he
had trapped her nipple and the shirt between his lips. Each tug of his mouth made her clench her thighs.
“Yes.” She squirmed, wanting to rub herself against him, but he held her still. He didn’t grant her a second of rest before switching his attention to the other breast.
Gasping, she clutched his waist. When she’d come into the kitchen, her plan had been to seduce him, but now she was the seducee.
She licked a swath of skin on his chest and his body trembled. Emboldened by his response, she allowed her tongue to trace the intricate tattoo that covered his right shoulder. With unerring precision, she followed each line’s path. When she finished, he was panting.
His hazel eyes had darkened and she felt like she was looking into a bottomless midnight sky.
“Turn around.”
He stared at her blankly.
She gave him a gentle move to position him the way she wanted. She treated his back to the same attention as his chest. Ryder’s head bowed as his thighs trembled.
She trailed her nails up the middle of his back. “I don’t want slow and sweet. Not tonight,” she whispered.
The words barely left her mouth before he whipped around. From the tight expression on her face, she knew asking him to take it slow would have been an impossibility.
She cradled his face in her hands. “I want you.”
Ryder had never heard sweeter words in his life. He shoved his jeans off with lightning speed.
She jumped down in a lithe move. She shed the shirt, leaving her standing naked before him. Bending slightly at the waist, she allowed her mouth to caress the fine black hairs leading below his navel. He brushed her hair away from the side of her face.
“Put your mouth on me.”
Chapter Seven
Camille surveyed Ryder’s impressive length. Sliding the mushroom-shaped head between her lips, she felt an enormous sense of feminine power surge through her when his head fell back in surrender.
She smiled around the width of his shaft. She couldn’t take his entire length, but she tried with gusto. She licked the silken steel of his erection, laving him with her tongue. A pearl of liquid gathered at his tip and she swiped it away, allowing the taste of him to coat her mouth. She drew him in deeper, varying the pressure of her suction. He groaned in response.
Her hands stroked his base, squeezing then letting go. Pleasing him increased her own pleasure and her center grew wetter still with the need to take him into her body.
Ryder struggled to take in enough oxygen. His brain forgot to instruct his body to breathe. Hot, wet softness surrounded his cock and he was pretty sure only one other feeling topped this one.
“Stop.”
She continued, as if she hadn’t heard him.
“Naughty woman.” As much as he enjoyed what she was doing, he didn’t intend to spill himself in her mouth – at least not for their first time. “Inside you,” he panted.
She teased him by swiping a pearl of glistening liquid with her tongue from the tip. “Where’s the condom?”
“Hold that thought.” He rushed into the bedroom where he yanked open the nightstand drawer. He grabbed a handful of the square packets.
He left the room then passed the partially-opened door where Gizeel slept. Damn. He’d forgotten about the alien. Ryder eased into the alien’s mind and pushed Gizeel into a stage of deep sleep.
Camille stood where he’d left her. After sheathing himself, he lifted her, holding her weight as he guided himself between her thighs. The head of his cock touched her swollen lips. He held himself still, enjoying the welcoming softness. He eased inside her slick core, inch by deliciously tight inch.
The sensation he was coming home rushed through Ryder. He didn’t stop to explore the feeling. He couldn’t. Not with the thrill of being inside her proving greater than his fantasy.
“Am I hurting you?”
She shook her head as she clenched her muscles around him. All sane thoughts flew from his mind.
His hands moved to her hips, controlling her movements, slowing and quickening them to his satisfaction.
“Yes!” Camille bounced against him, her feet tapping a rapid beat on his butt.
Without breaking their connection, he walked to a chair and sank onto it. From this angle, he slid even deeper into her. She’d never felt a completeness like this.
His hot mouth latched onto a nipple. Each suck of his demanding tongue tugged at her center. She moved against him, eager for more.
He switched his attention to the other breast. She tasted so good and felt even better. Soft, wet, willing woman. He didn’t want this to ever end.
“Cam, Cam, Cam.”
She’d have forgotten her own name if he wasn’t chanting it.
His fingers trailed down between them to her clit. His thumb brushed over the hardened flesh, over and over. Control left her as she felt her body approach the zenith. She ran her nails down his back as she rotated her hips against him.
“I’m there!” Camille’s muscles squeezed his cock, bringing him closer to the edge of his completion.
Grateful, she hadn’t been able to last long, Ryder released the rein on his own tightly leashed desire.
“I’m right behind you, baby.” He tumbled over the precipice.
Eyes closed, his head lolled as he relished the satisfying moment. He drifted off, but the buzzer of his intercom brought him instantly alert.
Camille jumped off him, breasts bouncing with the movement. “It’s Silver. Oh my God! I forgot I called her.” She pulled on his shirt. “Where are my jeans?” She dashed towards his bedroom.
Ryder rushed into the bathroom. He disposed the condom then tugged on his jeans. In the foyer, he pressed the button that would allow the elevator to stop on his floor. Entering Gizeel’s mind, he removed the cloak of sleep from the alien.
Ryder had ten seconds to yank hiss zipper up and brush his hair into place with his hands just as the doors opened.
Dressed in black jeans and a white leather jacket, Silver’s heels clicked against the tile as she entered the foyer. “Hey, Ryder.”
He only knew her first name and had never heard anyone call her anything else. As usual, she wore jewelry in her namesake metal.
“I brought a transmutalyzer with me.”
“Good. I’ll collect Gizeel in the morning. I need to be at the precinct by seven.”
She smiled. “I’m grateful. I know you’re putting yourself on the line with the Deputy Chief, but I appreciate it.”
“Hi Silver,” Camille joined them. She’d secured her hair in a ponytail and was clothed in the dirty and torn jeans once more. But despite her attempt to clean-up, she glowed with the look of a woman recently well-loved.
Silver’s gaze volleyed to Camille and back to him. “Did I interrupt something?”
“I’ll wake Gizeel,” Camille offered, leaving the question unanswered as she dashed from the room.
Ryder folded his arms in front of his chest, knowing Silver wouldn’t let the incident go.
She smoothed long, chocolate hair away from her face. “Does she know?”
“Not yet.”
Silver frowned. “You need to tell her.”
“I’m looking for the right moment.”
“I haven’t known her long, but I don’t like my agents’ feelings played with,” she warned. “Makes them lose focus on their assignments.” She huffed out a loud whoosh of air. “Don’t tread in Mo’s footsteps by making it your goal to sleep your way through the Agency. I had to reassign two of my best agents to other field offices.”
He groaned. “That’s not what I’m doing. Camille is special.”
With a shake of her head, Silver stalked away. He followed, feeling every bit like a teenager caught making out with his girlfriend instead of the owner of the house. Hell, the damn building.
In the kitchen, she surveyed the room then turned to face him. “Food’s cold. Utensils on the floor. Good thing I didn’t arrive ten minutes earlier.”
He didn’t bother hiding his grin of male satisfaction. “I give you my word, Silver. I’ll tell her.”
Silver smirked, but before she could say anything else Camille returned with Gizeel.
Silver approached Gizeel. She showed him the transmutalyzer encased in a plastic wrist band before sliding it over his hand.
“See you in the office tomorrow, Camille. I’ll be waiting on your report.” She glanced at Ryder. “I heard news of an uprising tonight.”
“Yeah, but we got out without mishap.”
“I’m glad.” With Gizeel’s hand firmly in hers, Silver headed toward the elevator.
“Wait! Don’t you need to disguise him?” Camille asked.
“He will be.”
The doors slid open and the two boarded. A second later, Camille and Ryder were alone.
“What do you think she meant by that?” Camille asked with a frown.
He shrugged. “She’s powerful. Gizeel will be fine.” Most other-worldly citizens of Earth possessed one or two powers at the most, but he realized Silver possessed quite a number.
Camille glanced around the kitchen. “You think she knew?”
He nodded. “Absolutely.”
Camille groaned.
Ryder laughed. “Don’t be embarrassed.” He stroked her back. “Food’s cold, but I can warm it up.”
She slid her fingers in his belt loops. “I can think of something else you can warm up.”
“Wait.” His hands stilled their movements. It was time. “I need to tell you something.”
“Later. Right now,” – she slid her hands across the front of his jeans – “I want you to do something else.”
His brain slowed. He could tell her later. Another hour or so wouldn’t matter. “I’m interested.”
She nodded, glancing at the thickening ridge below his waist. “I see you are.”
Ryder moved purposefully to the wall, where he flipped a switch, plunging the room in darkness. He unzipped his jeans, shoved them down his legs then stepped out of them. He stared into her eyes as he slid the condom on.
His cock jutted proudly from the nest of curly black hair at its base. “Come here.”
With anticipation carved into every cell, Camille executed his command. Each step brought her closer to the man her body was rapidly recognizing as the provider of its pleasure.