“That turns me rock hard, love. That and the fact I am your first and only lover. I won’t share you, Isabella. A part of me thought I could let you go, but not after this, and I will kill anyone who tries to take what is mine. Do you understand?”
Tingles rose inside. Isabella understood possession. His hard cock jutted at her entrance, and he rocked the tip back and forth inside as the wetness grew. At this moment, he owned her body. She couldn’t deny it even if she wished to; her body insisted. She palmed his cheek and wriggled lower to sink down slowly on his rigid shaft.
“I won’t share either, Roman, and I, too, have claws.” She groaned as her core clenched around his dick, the fullness overwhelming.
“Ah—you were created for me, my love.”
Roman kissed her deep and thrust his cock upward as she ground herself into him. Isabella clamped her legs over his hips, relishing and savoring how alive she felt. She dug her nails in his flesh and he hissed.
“As vampires, my love, we can fuck all night.”
Smiling at his revelation, she shoved him over until she lay astride his legs, impaled with his cock. She squeezed the walls of her sex tight, and he growled.
“Only the night?” she teased as she rocked into him, delighted at the restrained passion that hovered in his eyes. She didn’t want him to hold back; she wanted to push him to the limits and ruin him for other women. “You’re mine, Roman, and I want you to teach me everything.”
A self-satisfied grin broke out as he claimed her hips and dug his nails into her skin. She sank over his hard cock and screamed as the fullness stretched her internal muscles, but he rocked her back and forth as wave after wave of ecstasy raced through her. Instinctively, she threw her head back with abandon, wallowing in the glorious fusion of their bodies. Roman tilted his hips upward. Feeling his shaft pulsing inside as it stretched and pushed deeper, claiming her, a frantic need grew. Roman occupied her body; he had taken possession and she met every thrust with her own need crying out, grunting and screaming in delight. She didn’t want him to stop—ever. Was this love? She wondered briefly whether Roman loved her, but the mist of desire overrode her fears.
“By the time I have finished with you, love, you’ll be begging me to stop.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The mid-morning sun promised another beautiful day in Mauritius, despite the chance of a rain shower later. Sitting, reading the local paper, and sipping on black coffee, it would be easy to forget all your troubles as you watched the light crowd of tourists milling around under the colorful canopies of umbrellas as they shopped or studied the menus, deciding where to eat in Port Louis. But he was here with one intention: to give Henry his send-off. Over the past couple of weeks, the mild-mannered secretary had been training day and night. He was ready to infiltrate the Padre’s company, Soltaire.
A rather sun-tanned and rotund Padre sat several tables away with a slim young brunette wearing black shades at his side. Three other men surrounded him as he ate his breakfast of bacon, eggs, sausage, and pancakes. The man enjoyed his food. A waiter in the standard white shirt and black pants marched to the table and refilled everyone’s coffee and walked away. The flawless beauty was the Padre’s latest consort; she sipped on orange juice, which Jake suspected contained alcohol. Letting that odious man touch her stunning body would require something to dull the senses. He tapped into his headset. Everyone was in place. The plan was to cause maximum noise and chaos with minimal damage. Henry’s position afforded him the closest view of their target, and soon the fireworks show would begin.
“Gateway, we have eyes on the target and are locked and loaded.”
Jake headed this mission, and there were seven on the ground, including Henry. It was Jake’s role to aim at the Padre, but to hit Henry when the secretary intervened to make it look as if he were saving the billionaire’s life. There are several places to shoot and cause the least amount of damage. One area was the thigh and another the arm. The deltoid muscle was a good place, if you avoided the bone. As a trained sniper, he had killed targets at a distance of six hundred meters with one round, something most soldiers couldn’t achieve. Today, there would be margin for error, but the distance much closer. To be a sniper, one must be highly skilled and he practiced every day at the range. It also required patience. Once he had taken the shot, it would be up to Henry to ingratiate himself into the Padre’s underworld and discover as much as he could.
“Start the countdown, DQ.”
Draining his espresso, he peered over at Henry as he stood to pass by the Padre’s table. Jake shifted his position, eyes locked on his target, but aware the entire time of his peripheral surroundings. Years of training as a Navy SEAL came in handy on these missions. A female waitress cleared his table as he clutched his Glock between his thighs, ready to aim and fire. His finger on the trigger ready, but Henry did something that they hadn’t planned. He stopped and pivoted around.
What the fuck? A shot fired at him. Jake jolted back, stunned as pain flared. The bullet hit him in his right arm. Pushing up with a fury, he knocked the table sideways, and fired his weapon, but Henry had dodged out of the way, and with his injured arm, his aim was way off. More shots fired as the secretary darted between pillars, peppering the tall palm tree to his
