Know Thine Enemy

CHAPTER Sixteen



His skin felt neither warm nor cold beneath Izzie's cheek. It was a pleasant place between life and death, and it felt right. Her heart hammered against her chest, skipping every now and then when she remembered where she was, who she was with, and that the moment wasn't fleeting. Ryker was really here. The hand stroking her back was real, as was the other that held hers to his chest.

If it had been like this before, she didn't remember it. Her time with Wright had been uncomfortable and tense. Her skin hadn't tingled, her heart hadn't jumped, and she hadn't had to constantly reassure herself it was real. She hadn't cuddled next to him afterward, nor had she reveled in the sensation of his flesh against hers. Intimacy with Wright had seemed necessary—an essential human experience she didn't think she'd get anywhere else, at least not on her terms. Ryker changed everything.

Ryker, she wanted. Hell, a part of her needed him, and the rest of her just craved.

Izzie didn't understand it. How a vampire could make her feel alive, even in the wake of what she'd experienced made little sense—except, perhaps, he made sense of something she hadn't really understood. She was free. She always had been and she hadn't known it. As much as she owed Wright, as grateful as she felt for all he had done, he had cornered her into an existence she didn't want and hadn't realized she could reject until Ryker entered her life.

For the first time since driving the blade through Harrison's chest, Izzie's earthly concerns melted away. The reality awaiting return outside this small haven was not forgotten, but even the horror of Dr. Briggs and the cell couldn't curb the taste of freedom.

At last, her actions were her own. She didn't fear where her next meal came from or dread not having the strength to go on the hunt tonight. She simply was.

"I don't know what happens next," Izzie murmured.

Ryker raised his head. "Got a few ideas, though they all involve you and nudity."

Heat tinged her cheeks. "You've seen all there is to see."

"Doesn't make you any less spectacular."

"Even the scar?"

"On your stomach?" He didn't wait for her to agree. "The scar is like you, sweets. Tragic and beautiful."

"I don't know what that means."

Ryker chuckled. "It means I think every inch of you is gorgeous, even the scar." He lifted her hand to his lips. "Though we need to put some weight on you."

Izzie's nose wrinkled. "You want me fat?"

"I want you in whatever way I can get you."

She blushed again and hid her eyes against his skin. "I don't know what to say to that."

"Yes, please?" he volunteered.

She laughed and rolled onto her back, feeling womanly for perhaps the first time in her life. "Seriously, what happens now?"

"You wanting to have The Talk?"

"What's the talk?"

"F*ck if I know. Something I hear on sitcoms." Ryker dropped a kiss onto her shoulder and raised himself onto his elbows. "I don't know what happens now. This is new territory for me."

"You've never . . . ." Izzie paused and bit her lip, unsure whether or not she should repeat the words he'd whispered while pumping inside her body. At once the confession felt too sweet, too intimate, and too fragile in her untrained hands. She feared him taking it back, and was terrified of what came next should he not.

She didn't know what being loved entailed, or how she was supposed to react. Did she say it back? Should she say it back? Did she feel it? How did Ryker know what he felt for her was love? Hell, how did anyone know what they felt was love? What changed between being in love and being out of love? The burning feeling in her chest was new and frightening, and though she was well schooled in identifying anxiety, her current nervousness was unlike anything she'd experienced.

Thankfully, Ryker seemed to understand her hesitation. "It's been a long time for me."

"Sex?"

He laughed shortly. "Ahhh . . . not sure how to answer that."

"That's a no." For whatever reason, the notion bothered her. She didn't like the image of Ryker's hands on someone else's skin—Ryker's lips caressing another's lips, his body pressed against some faceless woman, cozy and familiar like he was now with her. It made her feel completely ordinary, which was something she had not once felt—and to him she wanted to be memorable.

Izzie shivered and rolled onto her other side, suddenly finding it hard to look at him. Which made no f*cking sense, seeing as their relationship had never stood the chance of being conventional. Jealousy was something she simply wasn't accustomed to, and she didn't like it.

She didn't like feeling so vulnerable. Was that love? Why would anyone choose it?

"For what it's worth," Ryker said, inching up behind her. "It was never like this."

"Like what?"

His arm wound around her belly, pulling her back against his chest, her body curving into his. She felt his erection rubbing along her hip, and while her body shivered and her post-coital fatigue seemed to evaporate, she refused to allow herself to become distracted.

"I've never been with a woman I loved."

Izzie inhaled sharply. "I find that hard to believe."

Ryker's fingers danced along her leg. "Hard, huh?"

"You've been around so long."

"You calling me old?"

"You called me skinny."

"There's a difference between skinny and malnourished."

She frowned. "Briggs didn't feed me a lot."

"That's one thing you can't blame on Briggs."

"I'm not liking you very much right now."

Ryker pressed his knee between her legs, which parted for him without hesitation. It was as though a higher part of her brain had lost functionality. "Somehow I doubt that."

"I can't be held accountable for what my body does."

"Well, it's the truth."

"My body is the truth?"

"I've never loved a woman I've been with." He cupped her p-ssy, his mouth peppering her skin with sweet kisses. "Not once until you."

A long whimper tore through her throat and she shook her head. "I don't believe it."

Izzie felt him smile against her shoulder before his thumb found her * and rubbed her gently. "Only other woman I loved," he murmured, "was my fiancée. And whatever I felt for her was shit compared to what I feel for you."

She did her best to smother her joy at the words, focusing instead at the topic at hand. "And you never once slept with her."

"Different time. Men of honor popped a girl's cherry on the wedding night. Never made it that far."

Izzie gasped and arched against him, twisting slightly so that she could hook an arm around his neck, giving him access to her breasts. Ryker's lips dipped immediately, closing over her nipple.

"Never?" she asked.

"Not once," he mumbled around her flesh. He released her with a wet plop. "And I'm glad. Nothing could compare to this."

"When were—ahhh—when were you engaged?"

"Before the war." Ryker looked up and caught her eyes. "I went back after Caroline died. Went to see her. Make her like me. It hadn't sunk in, really. All that had changed, how nothing would be as it was. Funny, 'cause it seems so obvious now."

"What?"

"Well, dunno if you've gleamed onto this, but most folk view my kind as monsters."

Izzie smirked, but the expression was quickly eradicated by the sensation of prodding fingers at her p-ssy lips. He spread her wide, and she shuddered as he rubbed along her slick opening. "I—ahh . . . yeah."

"She tried to kill me."

"Your fiancée."

Ryker nodded, inching a finger inside her. "Told her what I was, what I wanted us to be, and she grabbed her pap's bayonet and shish kabobed me through the stomach. Dunno what would've happened if she'd hit the heart and paralyzed me, but she didn't know the rules. Neither did I. I climbed up, pulled the blade out—"

"Eww."

"Eww?" He chuckled. "This from the girl who killed a man with a plastic spoon."

"I never said it wasn't gross."

"Fair point. But there you have it."

"There I have what?"

Ryker slipped another finger inside her and pumped gently. "You're the first. The first woman I've been with who knew me and didn't care."

"I know you?"

"You know enough. The stuff that matters."

Izzie frowned. While the sentiment thrilled her, something didn't add up. How could she be the only woman who really knew him? Over a century had passed since he was turned, and the world was hardly lacking female demons for company.

"You've never . . . opened up with other vampires?"

Ryker shook his head, steadily thrusting his fingers in and out of her p-ssy, which sent hard shocks of pleasure through her body. Anymore and she was certain she'd detonate on overload. "Not for lack of trying. Never felt real around them."

"And . . . ."

"You're not a groupie and you don't hate or fear me. You're not jaded, either, or convinced you're invincible because you're not human."

"'Cause I am human."

He smiled. "That helps, but you're unlike any woman I've met. You're strong and resilient, and you didn't break when no one would blame you if you did."

Izzie considered this, though admittedly her focus became foggier by the second. "And you're sure?"

"Sure I love you?"

"Sure I'm not…disgusting? For wanting this after what happened there—"

"You're lily white. I'd know it if it weren't true."

"How?"

"Been around a long time." He flicked his tongue over her nipple, gently easing his fingers out of her body. "Stretch your leg over my thigh."

Izzie felt uncertain, but did as he asked. In a blink, his cock was teasing her sopping folds with his velvety head.

"You're not disgusting, or bad, or wrong, or anything that ass of a father told you." He kissed the swell of her breast. "I honestly don't know what you are."

"Ryker, please."

"Except mine."

The amazing thing was she felt it. Through the way he touched her, the way he molded her against his body, the way the space between them felt electrified with something beyond sins of the flesh. Something had changed—something vast and wonderful, and while her mind kept dragging her back to the words he'd spoken, she likewise held onto the promise, however remote, of the future.

He loved her. It still didn't seem real.

And at the same time, strangely, nothing had ever felt quite as real.

"Do you?" she heard herself ask.

"What's that?"

"You really do? Love me?"

"Still don't believe me?" Ryker's arms curled around her, the head of his cock slipping inside her hot sheath, and he hissed against her neck. "Said it a few times now."

"Doesn't seem real."

"I'll make it real." His arms tightened around her and he fought off a contented purr. "Can I have you again? I'll be gentle."

Izzie mewled and nodded, and he sank balls-deep into her p-ssy. The world around her dissolved in bliss. Ryker growled and pressed his mouth to her shoulder, crushing her so tightly to his chest that he practically swallowed her. It just kept getting better. Their first time had been explosive, but there was simply no comparison to this.

"Flatten your back against me," he murmured.

"I won't be able to see you."

He kissed her lips and grinned. "You'll feel me. That's what matters."

Perhaps it was. Even if she wanted to watch his face as he made love to her, feeling him showed her more than her eyes could ever absorb. She inhaled sharply and turned, pressing her back to his chest. Ryker kissed her shoulder again, his right hand finding her hand where it rested against her abdomen, and he laced his fingers through hers.

"You feel me?"

She nodded. She wanted to never stop feeling him.



* * * * *



Izzie squeezed him so tight he nearly went cross-eyed with pleasure.

The companionable silence they'd shared after collapsing into an exhausted tangle of arms and legs had been the purest he'd experienced, and Ryker wasn't the kind of guy who enjoyed cuddling with his bedmates. It was usually more of a wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am scenario. He seduced women for physical release and for blood, and while he made sure those females exited happy, he didn't crave intimacy. Not the sort of intimacy that counted. The sort of intimacy that came with holding someone he loved or respected, someone he knew beyond the lies they told each other on their way to the nearest mattress.

This was the difference. He knew that now. The line separating quick, emotionless sexual encounters and experiencing something that transcended the physical. He'd heard there was a distinction between f*cking and making love, and he'd laughed the notion off until now.

Until Izzie.

"Close your eyes." Ryker sucked at her throat. She tasted so sweet, and while the hum of her pulse taunted his fangs, he was both pleased and surprised when they failed to descend. He began moving slowly, peppering her skin with kisses as he fought back a predatory growl. Her silken walls drove him mad. God, she molded around him like no one else ever had. Like she was made for him.

Like she was his.

She is.

"Do you have any idea how good you feel?" he murmured into her hair, cupping a breast. "I've never felt anything like this."

"Really?" she asked.

She started flexing her vaginal muscles around him, and he about lost it.

Before he could answer her, she continued, "I've never . . . this is a new thing for me . . . ."

"What?"

"You. This."

"What 'this'?"

"I didn't know. How it could feel."

"It?"

"Sex."

Ryker grinned and squeezed her hand, increasing his pace so that his balls slapped against her with every thrust. While his body screamed to pound her into the mattress, the years had not permitted gentle loving behind closed doors. He'd wanted to experience this with someone for so long, and she was arching and moaning against him, each drive into her p-ssy earning a sharp gasp, as though he touched something new every time.

"Good," he purred into her ear. "I love hearing that I've given you at least one first." His fingers abandoned her breast with one last teasing pull to her nipple, sliding slowly down her abdomen.

"More than one."

"Oh yeah?" He captured her * between his thumb and forefinger.

"Yes, never . . . wasn't like this." Izzie moaned, thrusting her ass back against him and spreading her legs wider. "Oh my God."

The strain in her voice twisted his nerves, and he felt his own voice weaken in turn.

"Good." Ryker grinned and nipped at her earlobe, rubbing her * tenderly.

"Oh yes."

Ryker thrust hard into her now, the growls scratching at his throat becoming more pronounced. There was nothing about this he didn't love. The raw slaps their bodies made as they moved together, the whimpers and moans that tumbled through her lips, the slippery feel of her * between his fingers, the matchless warmth of her p-ssy, the way her wet tightness nearly made him pop. There were so many things about her he loved. So many things that he'd never had all at once—so many things he'd never had at all.

He wanted to bite her. He wanted to taste her blood as her cunt clenched his cock, as his name tumbled through her lips. He wanted it so bad. He wanted it, but he didn't dare. Not without asking. Biting her was something his inner animal craved, and he was determined to be the man she deserved, if only for now. If only for this time he had with her before reality tumbling back.

Not when one more bite would put her closer to eternity.

F*ck, he loved the sound she made when she came. The way she cried out with a twisted gasp. The way her body trembled and convulsed around him. The way her muscles clamped around his cock, the way she squeezed his hand. The reverent breath of air that carried his name. He loved it all.

He just hoped she could love him back, and thus far, he had no idea.

The thought was too much. Too large. Too terrifying. He was drunk on her, and he couldn't think. He couldn't think right now. Ryker screwed his eyes shut and came violently, jolts of ecstasy tearing through his body. He pressed his mouth to her skin to stifle his moan of completion.

And when the haze settled and he opened his eyes, the thought remained.

He needed Izzie to love him back. He needed to know this was for her what it was for him.

He needed it, but he wouldn't push her. Not now.

Now he welcomed the quiet.