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“Are they wet?” Still holding the PDA, he moved closer, his expression suddenly more sensual, his gaze as wicked as the panties. “Have you dampened all that soft lace yet?”
Her face flamed, because of course she had. Just looking at him made her wet.
“You’re insane,” she breathed out roughly, taking the PDA from him and securing it quickly in the leather case attached to her utility belt.
His eyes moved down her body, his gaze locking on her thighs. “I want to lick all that sweet soft flesh. You know your pussy is softer than the lace, Dawn?” His hands settled on her shoulders and smoothed down her back as he pulled her close, his eyes meeting hers then. “Does your tongue ache, baby? Do you need my kiss?”
His head lowered, his lips teasing at hers then.
“If you kiss me, we’ll never make it out of here.” Her lashes drifted over her eyes as his tongue stroked over her lips.
She wanted his kiss. She wanted those teasing licks to stop and she wanted his lips moving over hers. Not to ease the hormone swelling the glands beneath her tongue, but because she felt him when he kissed her. She felt connected to him, a part of him.
“I ache for your kiss,” he whispered against her lips then. “The feel of it, the warmth of it. The way you make those feathery little sounds when my tongue touches yours.”
Her lips parted. She needed him. Needed the touch of his tongue against hers, the feel of his kiss making her mad with hunger. So insane to feel all of him, to touch all of him, that nothing else mattered. She wasn’t afraid of the shadows that had begun forming within her memories when he held her. Shadows that she knew were filled with pain and horror and the screams of the girl she never wanted to have to remember.
As his tongue stroked over her lips, the link at her ear beeped imperatively.
Dawn moaned in denial, her hands tightening on Seth’s powerful forearms as she fought to ignore it. It beeped again, then again on the secured private channel. It had to be Dash or Callan. Only they would contact her privately, and it would have to have something to do with the investigators downstairs.
She didn’t want to deal with them. She wanted to stay right here, in Seth’s arms, and feel the kiss he was teasing her with.
Seth pulled back, his grin slow and knowing as he jerked her hand to the small activator at the back of her ear.
“Dawn here,” she snapped as she flipped the mic down.
This better be important.
“How did I get this link, is your first question.” Obviously disguised, a voice that sent chills down her spine whispered the statement. “Which of your very well-trained enforcers did I take down, little girl?”
Dawn felt the flash of sickening knowledge, a realization she didn’t want to sense, didn’t want to hear.
“Who is this?” She could feel the bile rising in her throat.
“Ah, Dawn, sweet thing. You don’t remember your first? First cut is the deepest, sweetie. I made that first cut, and now I’ll make the last. Remember that, Dawn, I promised you that. That you’d always be there for me. You’re my fuck toy, little girl. Always mine.”
She was going to be sick. So sick.
She was instinct, pure instinct and training. She rushed to the laptop and activated the locator program for the island. All the Breed links had a locator, a beacon that allowed her to track them. That locator beacon was coordinated with one inset in the Breed patch they wore on their uniforms. If the link was separated from the Breed, then she’d find it.
It was a security measure, in case a Breed became separated from the link, or the worst happened and the enemy managed to acquire the link.
“Are you searching for me, Dawn? Come get me, baby. You were the best fuck I ever had and I’ll be your last fuck.”
She was going to throw up. That voice echoed in her head, over and over.
Scream for me, little cat. Little girl.
She tore the link from her head. She wasn’t listening. She couldn’t listen. She hit a command to coordinate locator beacons and watched as each began to line up.
All but one.
“Moira,” she whispered, horrified, terrified as she stared at the screen while typing in the electronic emergency access to all links but Moira’s.
Moira was well trained. She was one of the Lionesses Dawn herself had helped train. How had she failed the other woman? How had she not taught her to avoid this?
This was her fault. Somehow, it was her fault. She had trained Moira. The delicate Breed had come to Sanctuary almost broken, and she learned to laugh. But she was down now and Dawn had failed to protect her.
