He started to rise up over her and Gabrielle arched into him, fevered with hunger, needing to feel him inside her. His erection was a heavy length of steely heat where it pressed between her thighs. Gabrielle slid her hands down and stroked him, lifting her h*ps to welcome him in.
"Take me," she whispered. "Fill me, Lucan. Now. Please."
He did not deny her.
The thick head of his sex pulsed, hard and demanding, at the entrance of her body. He was trembling, she realized dimly. His massive shoulders shook beneath her hands, as if he had been holding himself back all this time and was now about to burst. She wanted him to come apart like she had. She needed to have him inside her or she was going to die. He gave a strangled groan, his mouth at the sensitive crook of her neck.
"Yes," she urged him, shifting beneath him so that the shaft of his c**k now cleaved the center of her. "Don't be gentle. I won't break."
His head reared up at last, and for an instant he stared down into her eyes. Gabrielle looked up at him from beneath heavy lids, startled by the untamed fire that met her gaze. His eyes fairly glowed, twin flames of palest silver, engulfing his pupils and boring into her with preternatural heat. The bones of his face seemed sharper, his skin stretched taut across his angular cheeks and stern jaw.
It was so peculiar, the way the dim light of the room played across his features...
That thought had hardly formed before the living room lamps blinked off as one. She might have considered it strange, but as the dark settled around them, Lucan breached her body with a deep, mind-numbing thrust. Gabrielle could not bite back her moan of pleasure as he filled her, stretched her, impaled her to her core.
"Oh, my God," she nearly sobbed, accepting every hard inch of him. "You feel so good."
He dropped his head to her shoulder and grunted as he drew back, then plunged even farther than before. Gabrielle clutched at his strong back, pulling him closer, as she lifted her h*ps to meet his hard thrusts. He cursed under his breath, and it was a black, feral sound. His c**k leaped within her, seeming to swell even greater with each relentless flex of his hips.
"I need to f**k you, Gabrielle. I've needed to f**k you from the moment I first saw you."
The frank words - his admission that he'd wanted her as much as she had wanted him - only inflamed her more. She twined her fingers in his hair, gasping wordless, pleasured cries as his tempo increased. He thrust and withdrew, pistoning between her legs now. Gabrielle felt the rush of orgasm coiling in her belly.
"I could do this all night," he growled, his breath hot against her neck. "I don't think I can stop."
"Don't, Lucan. Oh, God... don't stop."
Gabrielle held on to him as he pumped into her. It was all she could do as a raw scream tore from her throat and she was coming and coming and coming again.
Lucan stepped off Gabrielle's front stoop and headed down her dark, quiet street on foot. He'd left her sleeping in her bedroom loft, her breathing rhythmic and sated, her delectable body spent after more than three nonstop hours of passion. He had never f**ked so hard, so long, or so completely.
And still he was hungry for more.
More of her.
That he'd been able to conceal the lengthening of his fangs and the wild, desire-swamped cast of his eyes from her was a miracle.
That he hadn't given in to the relentless, pounding need to sink his sharp teeth into her sweet throat and drink to inebriation was even more astounding.
Nor did he trust himself to linger anywhere near her when every fevered cell in his body ached to do just that.
Coming to see her tonight had likely been a monstrous mistake. He had thought that sex with her would purge some of the heat she fueled in him. He'd never been more wrong. Taking Gabrielle, being inside of her, had only further exposed his weakness for her. He had wanted her with an animal need, and had pursued her like the predator he was. He wasn't sure he would have taken no for an answer. He didn't think he would have been capable of leashing his desire for her.
But she hadn't denied him.
Christ, no.
In retrospect, it would have been an act of mercy if she had. Instead, Gabrielle had accepted every measure of his sexual fury, demanding he give her nothing less.
If he turned around right now and stalked back into her apartment to wake her, he could spend another few hours between her gorgeous, welcoming thighs. That would at least satisfy part of his need. And if he could not slake the other, growing torment within him, he could wait out the sun and let the killing rays scorch him into oblivion.
If duty to the Breed didn't have such a hold on him, he might consider that option as a damned attractive possibility.
Lucan hissed a curse as he turned out of Gabrielle's neighborhood and strolled deeper into the nightscape of the city. His hands were shaking. His vision was sharp, his thoughts sliding toward feral. His body was twitchy, anxious. He snarled with frustration, knowing the signs well enough.
He needed to feed again.
It was too soon since the last time when he had taken enough blood to sustain him for a week, maybe more. That had been just a few nights ago, yet his stomach gnawed as though starving. For a long time, his cravings had been getting worse. Close to unbearable, the harder he tried to suppress them.
Denial.
That's what had gotten him through this far.
Sooner or later, he was going to reach the end of that rope. And then what?
Did he really think he was so different from his father?
His brothers hadn't been, and they'd both been older, stronger, than him. Bloodlust had ultimately claimed them both: one took his life by his own hand when the addiction became too much; the other went deeper still, turning Rogue, and then losing his head to the killing blade of a Breed warrior.