by Jayce Carter
He sighed, as if my answer was unexpected. “It isn’t exactly the sort of thing one wishes for from their male partner.” Before I could jump in and tell him, again, that it didn’t make me think less of him, he changed the subject. “I would not hurt you, not on purpose.”
“I know. Maybe bed sharing isn’t such a good idea, though?” I laughed, but it held no humor.
“Perhaps,” he admitted softly. “I’d hoped it would be different with you.”
“So you’ve tried this before?”
“Not exactly. You are unique, a situation I’ve never found myself in before. However, yes, I have attempted to work through my aversions in the past.”
“And?”
“And I am able to enjoy sex—fully—but still can’t allow a female to touch me freely. I’m afraid that may be too far for me to ever expect to get.” He paused, then blew out a long, unhappy breath, one that reminded me of how many years of pent-up feelings he had—especially given his revelation about his age. “I truly hoped it would be different, that I wouldn’t react to you as I had in the past, so if this isn’t what you want anymore—”
He was rambling. It was obvious, the way his language became impossibly more formal, as he restated the same thing over and over because he wasn’t sure what to say next, that he would just keep talking until he hit a point where he ran out of words. He was caught in a loop, one where he wanted to give me an out I didn’t need.
So I tried to tell him what I needed to the only way I could. I shifted so I sat front of him and pressed the insides of my wrists together, then set them in his folded hands.
He lifted his gaze to mine, his eyes the same deep brown I was used to—I might accept him, but I didn’t love that red thing they did when he went all feral—and he closed his hands around my wrists.
He leaned forward and kissed me, hungry and desperate, as if he could put the unpleasant conversation behind us with that alone. I could taste the chalk of the sober-up pill on his teeth, telling me at least it wasn’t ambrosia driving his actions.
He shifted my wrists behind me, held them against the small of my back, then tugged me forward and into his lap.
No matter how I shifted, his grip didn’t loosen at all.
And yes I wanted to touch him. The need to run my hands along his hard flesh, to explore his body fully consumed me, but I’d rather have what he was willing to give than nothing at all.
His fangs were sharp, but he was careful, even when he deepened the kiss. I kept my tongue away, not wanting to slice myself, especially after his last reaction to my blood.
I might have been offended by that again if it wasn’t for how his hard cock pressed against his slacks—and against me.
It was difficult to care about him not fancying my blood when he clearly wanted my body.
He slid his free hand into my hair, holding me still as he took my lips until I was mindless with want.
He wasn’t old as fuck, we weren’t in danger, we weren’t even in hell. It was two bodies driven by something they’d wanted and been denied.
He broke the kiss to meet my gaze. “Can you keep your hands there?”
I nodded. If it meant he’d have two hands to use on me? I was pretty sure I could do anything.
Kase undid the fastening on my pants and worked them off, one leg at a time, and while it would have been difficult to do so normally, given my lack of help, his strength and speed meant he had me bottomless in seconds.
Next, he hiked my shirt up, taking a long look at my chest as if enchanted by the sight. He slid down the cups of my bra, then brushed his thumbs over my nipples. “Beautiful,” he whispered, then leaned forward to take the left between his lips.
His mouth wasn’t as warm as a human’s, but his tongue was talented enough for me to not care. He teased my nipple with his lips, his tongue, even his fangs, as if each were a tool he had to drive me mad. Meanwhile, his hand slid down my stomach before reaching my cunt. His groan against my breast was deep when he found my drenched sex, when he glided his finger along my slit and teased my hardened clit. Because my legs rested around his hips, my cunt was spread out for him, and he took full advantage.
When he plunged his agile fingers into me the first time, I cried out. I wondered for a moment if the rooms were soundproofed as well, but the thought left as quickly as it came.
It was hard to pretend to be shy or modest, especially as he twisted those fingers inside me, as he fucked up into me with purposeful and strong thrusts.
Before long, I moved with him, rolling my hips as I rose and lowered myself, wanting more from him.
“Please,” I asked him, lacing my fingers together to keep me from reaching out.
He pulled away from my breast, leaving the nipple shiny from his saliva, like a reminder of what he’d been doing. “We don’t have to rush—”
Stupid man, thinking he needed to take it slow, that I was fragile. I licked across his bottom lip, the only way I felt comfortable to touch him. “I want you, Kase. I want all of you.”
“Even after…” His hesitation spoke volumes. Even after he’d accidently hurt me, even after his story, after admitting his past, his hang-ups, his failings. He was asking how I could still want him after knowing it all.
It reminded me of his secrecy, of the way I was never sure if he was honest or not, and it all made so much sense. From the start, he’d been hiding because he never thought for a moment that I could still want him if I knew it all.
I pressed my forehead against his, my hands safely tucked behind me. “Yes. It doesn’t matter what you tell me, what you’ve been through, it doesn’t change how I feel. I want you.”
His breath held that copper tinge it always did when he exhaled, when it blew across my lips. He hadn’t fed in…I had no idea how long, so him smelling of blood was odd.
And far more arousing than it should have been…
Clearly my perversions were an ever-developing issue.
I thought, for a moment, he might turn me down. Maybe he’d decide it was too fast for him, or not the right place.
Maybe he was, under it all, a romantic who didn’t want to screw me for the first time in a by-the-hour motel in the afterworld.
Those thoughts went away when he moved, the way he did when it was faster than I could follow, and I found myself on my back, his strong, lean body above me. He stretched my hands out above me and pressed them against the headboard, the meaning clear.
I grasped the iron of the headboard, the designs twisting around like plants, giving me plenty of good spots to wrap my fingers around.
When I did, he dragged his hand down my arm, his other unfastening his slacks. He didn’t bother to remove them entirely, as if he were too afraid to lose the moment, that if he left me for even as long as it took to shuck his pants, he’d lose it all.
I spread my thighs, wrapping a leg up and around his hip, offering myself to him entirely.
He leaned his forehead against mine a moment before the blunt head of his cock seated against my cunt. I’d seen him naked, of course, but feeling him was a whole different matter. Again, it was strange that he wasn’t as warm as other men, but that didn’t matter. His cock was harder, the skin having that smooth, almost marble quality to it. It almost reminded me of a glass dildo, yet that couldn’t come close to just how amazing this felt, or just how anxious I was to have him fill me.
He let out a low, wild groan as he sank his thick cock into me, my body more than wet enough to allow him to glide easily.
I lifted my hips when he slowed. I didn’t want careful. I didn’t want him thinking or worrying. I just wanted him.
His hips jerked forward when I tightened my leg around him, stealing another inch of his hard cock, before he seemed to understand.
“My brave Ava,” he all but growled into my ear. “I never expected you to want me, not really, but I swear I’ll give you all you can take.” The words were sweet, but his actions were anything but.
He sh
ifted backward, then plunged deep into me in one hard thrust. The way my body stretched and how deliciously full I felt made my hands tighten on the headboard.
I planted one foot against the bed and met him thrust for thrust. Funny how he could seem so wild in that moment, yet I’d felt his strength when he’d wrapped his hand around my throat, knew what he was capable of if he actually lost control.
Even as he took me hard, he was careful, because he could have easily hurt me if he’d wanted to.
He whispered, his voice strained, but I didn’t know the words. They were in a language I didn’t understand, as if he’d reverted to his native tongue, yet the tone gave away the meaning.
They were oddly sweet, said earnestly as if he’d meant nothing more. The words not translating must have had to do with him not being from hell, either.
He grasped my thigh in one hand, his hand tight, keeping me against him as he sank as deep into me as he could, as if he couldn’t get enough.
Neither could I.
It was like, in these moments, in the times when I could let everything go with another person, I had a reprieve. I didn’t have to worry about anything.
Kase took my worries from me, leaving no room for them inside me. I kept my hands on the headboard but leaned up, wanting his lips.
He obliged, and I had to admit, kissing someone with fangs wasn’t as awkward as I had expected. Then again, I was careful. I would not risk ruining the moment with a stray drop of blood.
He growled, a sound that sounded so odd from him. He’d always been controlled, the epitome of sophistication, so seeing this side of him thrilled me. His fingers tightened almost painfully around my thigh, and each time he plunged deep into me, he caught my clit, a spark of pleasure but not quite enough.
As if he noticed, Kase leaned up, breaking the kiss and bracing his weight on his hand to put space between our bodies. “Let go of the headboard,” he demanded, the order in his voice the biggest turn-on. “Touch yourself, Ava.”
My name was like a prayer on his lips, his accent heavier than I was used to, as if during the heat of the moment he couldn’t hide it anymore.
I did as he said, letting go with one hand so I could reach down—careful not to brush him—and slide my fingers against my needy clit. The first touch was shocking in its intensity. I hadn’t realized how wound up I was, how much I needed this.
The new position made Kase’s cock stroke against my cunt differently, angling him up and it worked for me. I didn’t tease myself, didn’t do gentle, feather-light touches. Instead, I parted my fingers into a V so I could stroke both sides of my hard clit in time with his rough, deep thrusts.
The strain on his face said he was close, that he wanted me to come apart first, and I was so ready for it. He peeled his lips backward like an instinct he couldn’t help, but instead of giving in to fear, I let the sight send me over.
This was Kase. It wasn’t the careful face he offered to the world, the one of an untouchable and controlled vampire. It wasn’t the one he’d given me at first when he’d been afraid that I couldn’t handle the real him. He was wild, passionate, and if I couldn’t accept this part of him, then I couldn’t accept any of him.
The orgasm took me over, but I didn’t stop, prolonging it with how I stroked my nub.
Kase let go of my thigh—probably for the best, since he’d against cranked down his grasp just before—and threw his head back.
It was beautiful in an odd way, the sight of him entirely lost to pleasure. I had a feeling Kase wasn’t someone who was ever lost, someone who was ever without control, so when the cords of his neck stood out, when he plunged deep and stilled as my cunt tightened around him, drawing out both our orgasms, I savored the moment.
A minute later, he shuddered and withdrew, his cock softening, though even that was enough to pull a whine from me.
He stretched out behind me, then rolled me so my back was to him and tucked me against his chest. He wrapped an arm around me, enveloping me.
I frowned at the lack of stickiness on my thighs. Condoms weren’t needed due to the sterility, but had he not…
“Kase,” I started, though I knew there wasn’t a good way to ask if a man had actually come…
He shushed me. “Vampires don’t ejaculate,” he explained as if he knew what I’d ask.
I guess that made sense… They didn’t have the same bodily functions.
After a moment, the other worry wouldn’t be ignored, especially when I swallowed and remembered what had happened the last time.
He pulled me tighter against him with a sigh, as though I were being all together annoying and ruining his afterglow. “Sleep, Ava. I will stay awake. I just want…”
He paused, like he wasn’t sure what to say. Saying he wanted to cuddle was probably too far. He’d already given in a lot so I supposed I could offer him that one reprieve.
“Get some rest,” he finished with instead.
Sleep cuddled up with the vampire equivalent of my very own guard dog after amazing, long-overdue sex?
That sounded like exactly what I needed.
Chapter Six
The next morning, I woke alone, though that didn’t shock me. Kase didn’t strike me as a “hang around and have breakfast together” sort of man, especially after his revelations the night before.
After donning my cloak, I crossed the hallway to Grant’s room to find Kase there as well. We ate, and by the time we left the inn, I finally felt ready for another leg of the trip.
The ability to sleep in a bed, to stop and rest, to see something other than spanning wilderness had done wonders for my stamina.
It certainly wasn’t Kase I had to thank for that, given the slight ache in my body. He’d used up stamina if anything. Worth it.
This time we took a road, which made the trip much easier. I was over the whole climbing thing, where we made our own trail. Instead, we followed a beaten path with trees and farms lining the way.
“Where were you last night?” I asked Hunter.
He was still shirtless—not that I minded. “Checking the roads ahead. I wanted to make sure there weren’t any traps or ambushes.”
I frowned, glancing to my side. “Was it a smart idea to go out there by yourself?”
“You worried about me?” The smile he flashed me said the idea amused him.
Instead of saying anything about it—he’d be far too pleased by that—I tugged at the cloak I wore. “Can I take this thing off, yet? No one else is around.”
“What if you take off everything under it instead?” He lifted an eyebrow as if that were the best compromise he’d ever heard.
“Well, my normal clothing doesn’t smell like rotten sludge, so I’m pretty sure I know which I’d prefer.”
Hunter huffed a soft laugh. “You can take the hood down but keep the rest on. It’ll help hide your scent.”
“No one in the bar even looked twice at me. I think you’re being overly dramatic about this.”
“Yeah, you say that now because you haven’t faced anything around here that wants to devour all that delicious mortality you have. Trust me, you’d be less confident if you had.”
I wanted to tell him that wasn’t true, but then I recalled how Kase had thrown me around, how Jerrod had charged, how the dancers in the bar had moved.
So, okay, maybe I was out of my league.
I took down the hood as he’d said but didn’t complain about leaving the cloak fastened at my throat.
Hell seemed stranger the more time I spent there, and just as soon as I thought I had a feel for it, it changed.
I’d gotten used to the wilderness, to the dim sky and the freaky, spiky trees. Climbing over the sharp rocks hadn’t been fun, but I’d accepted it.
Then we’d ended up in an honest-to-God town, complete with strippers and a no-tell-motel. That had been weird, but again, I’d adjusted.
My night with Kase helped that…
And now? Now we walked down a road, a red mist h
anging on the ground like fog, with fields that stretched out growing something I couldn’t identify. Houses were set in each huge space, but they didn’t look like the cute, southern-type houses. These held a sinister edge, which I could understand because I doubted good-ole-boy farmers ended up in hell. Well, maybe the racists ones.
“What are these farms?” I asked.
Hunter nodded at one of the houses that sat in the middle of a large field of spindly plants, ones that looked dead despite growing in perfect rows. The mist was so thick, I couldn’t see the ground. “Nothing much grows here, at least nothing usable. I’m sure you’ve noticed all the trees are bare.”
“Yeah, it occurred to me when I had to pee behind a shrub and there wasn’t much cover.”
He snorted softly. “These farms grow ambrosia, which is what is ground up to make alcohol, along with other mind-altering substances that work on demons, spirits and immortals.”
I frowned before going over to where the fencing separated the plants from the road. When I peered closer, the mist shifted without breaking apart. “Why does it grow?”
“There are some things you don’t want to know,” Hunter said.
“I find people tell me that when they don’t want to tell me something. It doesn’t seem to have much to do with what’s best for me.”
The mist swirled, moving from the way I approached. It parted, but Hunter caught my chin and brought my gaze to his.
“Trust me, shadow-girl, there are things in hell you don’t want to see. You’ll leave here, go back to your regular life and you don’t want those images in your head. Some things, once they get in there, you can’t get them out.” His gaze was so serious, it made me pause. Though, beneath that there was something more.
Instead of pressing, I pulled away. I’d had enough of men with hang-ups. I didn’t need to unravel anything else.
“So this is where that alcohol came from?”
Hunter nodded, keeping up with me as I started back down the path. “Yep. The ambrosia plants are harvested and ground up. They’re about the most valuable thing in hell, at least outside of mortals.”