“Yes.” The word boiled from between her parted lips. She dropped her head back on a hiss, the tendons in her graceful neck pulled taut as she ground against his hand. Tiny muscles rippled along his fingers as he stroked into her. “Oh God, Rafe. I need you. I need this. Right now.”
His answer was a feral-sounding snarl. He needed her too. He needed everything with her.
“Turn around,” he uttered, his voice rough and raw.
He swiveled her in front of him, bending her forward with his palm against her clothed back. She held on to the sink, her sweet ass thrust toward him in invitation. He caressed the round swells, using both hands to spread her wide. Her body glistened, flushed dark pink and so pretty.
He teased her silky seam with the head of his cock, then sank inside on a long, slow thrust that had his molars clenched so tight it was a wonder they didn’t shatter.
She moaned and moved against him, spurring him into a wilder tempo. They crashed together, surrendered to the heat and force of their desire. Rafe needed his hands on her skin, needed to see the play of color in herglyphsas he drove into her. He smoothed his palms under the back of her turtleneck, baring her pretty back to his glowing gaze. Her skin undulated with living colors. He traced his fingers over the flourishes, then up to the diminutive teardrop-and-crescent-moon birthmark that rode her right shoulder blade.
His fangs throbbed with the need to take hold of her as she rocked beneath him. He wanted to mark her, claim her, bind her to him as his.
Fuck.
The thought alone should have shaken him. It damn well shouldn’t have made his blood race faster, harder through his veins. It shouldn’t have intensified his want of her. Shouldn’t have made him hunger for something he didn’t deserve—and wouldn’t—so long as his life belonged to his mission for the Order.
Rafe met her molten gaze in the dingy mirror. God help him, but he saw some of the same forbidden hunger in her eyes. Her fangs were long and sharp behind her parted lips, her eyes flicking to where his own pulse hammered visibly in his throat.
He hardly recognized the possessive snarl that vibrated through him in that moment. He didn’t want to acknowledge what he was feeling.
Not simply lust and overwhelming pleasure, although he felt that all the way to his marrow. No, what he felt was even more powerful than that as he watched Devony’s beautiful face and felt her body shatter around him in a fierce orgasm.
Mine.
The word slammed through him as he exploded deep inside her.
Mine.
It was a dangerous word. One that stayed with him, as constant as his own heartbeat, even after they hastily put themselves back together and he sent Devony out ahead of him.
With the tranced woman awakened and her pliable human mind filled with the suggestion that he’d just shown her the time of her life, Rafe returned to the crowded tavern and dropped the blonde at the table with her giggling friends.
Then he headed for the back of Asylum where the gang, and the reality of his mission, awaited.
CHAPTER 16
The private warehouse near Conley Terminal looked like it had been a relic about twenty years ago. Rust-streaked, dilapidated, the steel-and-brick structure might have seemed abandoned among its neighbors if not for the obvious security presence just inside the front door.
Rafe and the rest of the gang sat a couple of blocks away in an unmarked delivery truck Ocho had obtained from one of his many questionable colleagues. Fish and Axel were dressed in stolen port authority uniforms. All of the gang were armed with semiautomatics, Rafe included.
Cruz held a pair of compact binoculars in front of his face as he peered out at the warehouse. “There’s the midnight shift reporting for duty. You all know what to do. As soon as the other guards are gone, we’re going in.”
They had reviewed the plan earlier tonight at Ocho’s. According to Cruz, LaSalle had assured him the job was expected to be a simple one. Gain access to the warehouse. Grab the crates of newly arrived merchandise from overseas. Deliver them to the drop location. Collect the fat payout.
Rafe had run enough cleanup patrols with his Order teammates to know that greedy criminals like these tended to get sloppy when someone waved enough dollar signs in front of them. He didn’t expect the job tonight to be as simple as Cruz claimed. And although Devony was still angry to be excluded, he was glad he didn’t have to dread anything happening to her during this sketchy undertaking.
They had agreed to keep their distance after their restroom rendezvous at Asylum last night. Rafe went home to his place in Southie and stayed there until meeting up with the gang. She had agreed to stay put at her Darkhaven and await word from him once the job was over.
As promised, he’d sent her what details he knew, including the warehouse location and the drop site. If things went as he planned, he hoped to get close enough to Judah LaSalle to trance the bastard and squeeze him for everything he might know about Opus Nostrum.
The sooner he had that intel, the sooner he could get on with the task of wiping the organization off the map.
Then he would have time to consider what Devony Winters was coming to mean to him, and whether those feelings stood any chance of being reciprocated.
“Okay,” Cruz announced. “New guards are inside . . . and there go the old ones around the corner. Time to move. Hit it, Ocho.”
The truck lurched into gear. Ocho drove it in front of the warehouse, and Rafe hopped out behind Fish and Axel. As they had done at the MFA, the two men provided a momentary distraction while Rafe leapt to action putting the lights out on the guards.
