Ravenous (1) by Ashwood Sharon

Author:Ashwood, Sharon [Ashwood, Sharon]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Paranormal, Fiction, Romance, General, Occult & Supernatural, Contemporary
ISBN: 9780451226174
Publisher: Signet
Published: 2009-02-03T08:00:00+00:00

At first, Macmillan wasn’t sure where he was. Nothing made sense until he felt the sheet drag across his skin, and then the soft brush of a female knee over his thigh. She was with him in his bed, in his home.

Daylight filtering through the curtains gave the place a soft-focus glow. Jenny’s hair scattered like corn silk across his chest, the long strands stirring as her fingers traced the arch of his ribs. He only vaguely remembered the night. At some point they had returned from the hospital. At some point friends from the police station had come, checking in. Jenny had sent them away, bespelled and trading jokes about Mac finally getting some. Jenny had come and gone after that, sliding into his bed as dawn warmed into day.

And then he had slid into her, over and over. It had been a revelation of hungers.

So many irrelevancies had fallen away, including concepts like “him” and “his.” The borders of his self were breaking down, and he was becoming one of Jenny’s limbs. Everything was Jenny, and she was all. Mac was merely a half-forgotten state of mind.

At the moment the universe was all female and pushing a breast into his eager hand, the nipple hard and ready for communion. Mac obliged, rubbing its tip with his palm, tweaking its crest. Whatever pleasure he gave, he was rewarded a thousandfold with the taste of her.

Jenny had gone out hunting, drinking souls, feeding on wandering humans with her kiss. She brought the silver energy home, giving him that sustenance one sip at a time. She did so now, leaving him shivering with pleasure, hard and ravenous for more.

“I want you to do something for me,” she said.

“Anything.” He suckled at her breast, making her close her eyes with a little gasp.

“The vampire who is always with the witch, Omara’s man—what is his name?”

“Caravelli.”

“I want you to phone him.” She took Mac’s face in her hands, forcing him to look up.

“And say what?”

“I’ll tell you what I need you to say. I have a plan. I have a dream.” Her finger traced the curve of his lips. “And you’re part of it. You, my love, gave me the power of your formidable strength and will. It called to me like a strong and savory scent. What a gift.” She kissed him lightly. “And I have been growing stronger since.”

Mac felt a welling happiness. He had pleased her. Then he felt sad. “I am not enough. You need others.”

“You have been the best”—she kissed her fingers and pressed them to his mouth—”but I want the Carver witch. She has real power.”

Mac smoothed the tumble of her hair. “Yes, she would be good.” He had kissed Holly. Now that he had changed, he understood the strength of what he had tasted.

“She’s been too strong for me up until now, but she trusts her friend the detective. You, my love, can take her by surprise.”

Mac imagined Holly’s power, imagined how it would caress his tongue.

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