by Jackie Ivie
“Oh...Tassanee. Babe. Damn. I’m not sure I can hold...much longer.”
“Hold what?”
She didn’t know. Oh...baby! The emotion hit his head. Stung his eyes. And sent a riot of something effervescent bubbling through him. That sensation got him chuckling again. Which just had her clenching him deep within her again, and that just got him in gear.
“Okay, babe. I hope you’re ready.”
“For what?”
He was really getting fond of her confused look. Hell. He was already half in love with everything about her.
“This.”
He put both hands about her waist and lifted her, shoving his ass down into the seat to pull out at the same time. But he went back in with a slow, easy motion, giving her time to acclimate to his size. Length. Circumference. And giving him time to ease his way back into his own personal heaven. Oh man. This felt good. Soft and yet solid. Taut and moist. Tense and yet flexible. Nirvana. Paradise.
He repeated the move. Exactly. Again. And again. While the drone of the engine vibrated through the cabin, and the chair started squeaking in accompaniment. Again. Over. Pulling out of her haven only to shove back in. Again. And again. Until the rhythm was about as inevitable as breathing.
Her gasps had accompanied the first strokes, and then her little mews of delight. And by the time he was working her up and down like a piston, she was sending lengthy cries that gave him shivers. And that was all a prelude to when she jerked backward, yanking against his hold while she shrieked something that should have shattered the windows in this plane. Oh baby. This was incredible. Awe-inspiring. Heart-stopping.
Len slowed his movements to a lulling sensation, waiting. Watching. And just experiencing exactly what it felt like to know it was his efforts behind her ecstatic cries. And then things went even higher as she brought her head back down and looked down at him with those dark eyes of hers. And he could have sworn there were tears glistening in them.
“You okay?” he asked softly.
She nodded and the move brushed strands of her hair across his torso. So he started again, only this time, she was doing the driving. Len ran his hands along toned legs, reaching her ankles in order to reposition her feet, bracing her against the chair arms. That was so he could push her backward, pulling out and down as he did so. The return move had her sliding forward while he shoved back up, rejoining them. And it didn’t take twice.
And...oh hell.
She was a master in a beginner’s body. A siren. A seductress. A sex goddess. And every other creature guaranteed to take a man and sap him dry. Len had to grab her waist to hold her in place as her rhythm kept increasing along with the cries she gave, until she was screaming with enjoyment again. The sound filled the room, reverberating off the walls, and then it was impossible to stop one damn thing. Or even slow it. His body went crazy, bucking ceaselessly into her. Deeper. Harder. Her gyrations drove him crazy, until he was slamming into place again and again while the seat beneath them took the brunt of it. Squeaking and creaking as if they worked bolts loose.
Nothing ever matched this. The scope. The power. The absolute encapsulation of spine-cracking bliss. Len arched right off the seat, heaving in non-rhythmic spurts that finished pulling the right side of the seat free. Reality shattered. Warped. Everything he’d come to believe about vampires went with it. He was sobbing before he finished, his body completely drained. Emptied. Replete.
He dropped back into place. The seat lurched to one side before righting once more. And Tassanee was there. Waiting. Her dark eyes delving into his for the longest time while his ears resounded with heavy, thick pulse beats. And then a smile tipped her mouth as if she’d seen what she searched for. He didn’t imagine the patina of tears atop her eyes this time. Hell. He had to blink around his own emotion. And that’s when he decided that it didn’t matter when this ended, or if she yelled hate-filled words at him. Hell. He didn’t even care if she killed him. Because, right now...this feeling was worth whatever he had to pay.
Now or forever.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Tassanee had been six when her parents decided she was pretty enough to offer to the king. Since she was their only child, they had the highest hopes for her. She couldn’t remember much before that time, but before her seventh birthday, she was on one path. Given instruction on dancing. Elegant gestures. Trained in musical instruments like the stringed khim, and the finger chimes. She’d been released from any sweat-inducing chores and pampered, her skin kept pristine soft and white, her hair oiled and perfumed, her body carefully scraped of any hair. And all for the Preah Reach Pithi Chrot Preah Neangkol. The Royal Ploughing Ceremony that was held each year to mark the beginnings of the rice planting season. Sacred cows would be sent across the fields, and just before dusk, the populace would have the chance to present their daughters before the king’s advisors. And if they passed inspection, they were taken before the king himself. All of it set up so if the girls were selected, they’d join the royal harem, gain immense honor for their family, and with that came financial gain.
Tassanee was twelve before it happened. She’d been brought to the ceremony since she was nine but failed to catch attention. Her father grew more and more disgruntled over it, despite her mother’s assurances. But all that changed in 1140. She was one of forty girls selected that year, and she’d been so pleased! It was the twenty-seventh year in the reign of King Suryavarman II. She didn’t realize that meant the king was an old man. And that he already had close to a thousand women in his harem. Or that all of them vied for musical and dancing talent, while each face seemed more beautiful than the last. What started as an excitement beyond belief turned quickly into an existence of never-ending tedium punctuated with evil-natured jealousy, gossip-mongering, and nefarious plots. And always there was instruction. How best to approach the king. How to move the body in order to incite sensual interest. How to prolong the bliss. How a man’s pleasure was to be achieved. Should she ever be lucky enough to be favored by his attention.
But then the king was killed, and it got worse every time a usurper came to the throne. Word would rush through the harem rooms to prepare. Dress in their finery. Work their hair into elaborate arrangements. Put on their arm bands and ankle charms. Display themselves. All so a stranger could walk through their ranks, pointing every so often. Pleasurable sounds and cries accompanied some of his selections, but sometimes they were screams of horror. Because he wasn’t just picking favorites. He was selecting the women to be put to the sword, as well.
Tassanee was glad to be overlooked and passed over. And then even that changed. She’d been twenty-four; old by any standard of the day when it happened. She’d been in shock. Rooted in place. Her eyes locked to his. He was slightly taller than her. Stocky. Unattractive. And unbathed. She was actually surprised the man wanted her in his bed, and not beneath his sword. Her unabashed look must have been what caught his attention and stopped him. That was when she’d discovered that she really wasn’t afraid of death.
Life in the harem was no honor. It was imprisonment in a silken prison. That’s why she knew, even as the poison had taken effect, it had actually been a release. She’d had to be convinced to accept this eternity that Akron offered. She wanted nothing to do with the Vampire Assassin League, or killing for profit. It was difficult enough at first just to kill. Akron had contacted her occasionally over the centuries. Always asking. About her condition. Her frame her mind. Her readiness to join VAL. His words would just be there. In her head. And he spoke Khmer. She never questioned it.
But she mustn’t forget how much she owed the eunuch, Hashovarn. He was the only thing that had made life in the harem bearable. He was assigned to her in her third year. And every night, Tassanee would sneak from her luxurious prison cell to join Hashovarn in the gardens, learning not only the basics of the Cambodian martial art of Bokator, but also the skills behind communicating. How a word or two could convey feeling. Generate emotion. A gesture could mean a th
ousand things. A lingering glance even more.
But nowhere in her twelve years in there had she realized what was meant by real, physical mating. She hadn’t heard one thing about how pleasurable it was for the woman. The heights of joy her spirit soared to. The thrum of ecstasy her body experienced. The absolute wonder that had been making love to her mate.
Leonard.
Tassanee leaned a little closer to study him, smiling slightly at how he sprawled in his chair, taking up the entire thing with his length. He had his head pillowed on an upraised arm, while his legs overhung the bottom by a good foot. Maybe more. The man was truly immense. It couldn’t just be her perception. He’d been taller than his partner, Stan, hadn’t he? And he was very fit. He hadn’t fastened his jacket and where she’d ripped his shirt apart, she could see all sorts of valleys and shadows that seemed to draw the eye. As did the little line of hair he had leading straight down to...
Oh my.
He was very sizeable there, too.
Tassanee hadn’t much comparison, other than the drawings and sculptures she’d been trained on, but those pictures and objects weren’t any kind of preparation for what a man’s body really looked like. Or the artists hadn’t ever seen anything like Leonard. She looked down, twisted her lips, and actually blushed. And then her eyes went wide. She didn’t remember ever blushing. And yet, it still happened. Because she’d found the one man destined for her. For all time. She didn’t have to be told.
She knew.
She was very lucky, too. Not only was Leonard large and manly, but he was handsome as well. He had a full head of hair, in a medium-brown shade. It was a riot about his head at the moment. She could see a curl peeking from behind the ear on this side. He also had a dark growth of whiskers on his cheeks, chin, and upper lip. None of the eunuchs in the harem had facial hair. Now that she thought of it, none of her victims over the centuries had sported any, either. Very intriguing. Interesting. It actually added to the passion-filled kisses they’d exchanged. Her lips still felt a bit sore from where she’d scraped them.
“Penny for your thoughts, babe.”
He cracked open the eye closest to her. He had very clear, blue-shaded eyes. She gasped and pulled back slightly.
“My...thoughts?”
“Yeah. As in – what are you thinking?”
“Oh. I’ve just been...um...watching you.”
“Seriously? Did you get any...uh, rest? Or whatever you undead call it?”
She shook her head.
“No? You’ve spent all this time watching me?”
“You’re very handsome,” she replied.
“Well. Hell. For that sort of remark, you can have a quarter.”
“What?”
“A penny for your thoughts, remember? That is a cliché for asking what someone is thinking, and offering to pay to hear them. And you told me, so I’m saying those kinds of thoughts are worth a bit more.”
“Oh. You’re speaking of monetary remuneration in American coinage.”
“Holy smack. Where did you learn English again?”
“Hong-Ye. And his cell phone.”
“Oh yeah. That’s right. You just randomly called numbers, and the best party you could reach was an economics professor with a minor degree in snooty-sounding English?”
“I’ve been watching movies, too.” Her tone was defensive.
“You have?”
“On the laptop.”
“What kind of movies can you get in this part of the world anyway?”
“Mostly black and white. But I put them in English and read the subtitles, so I learned even faster that way. I also know some Spanish.”
“Let me get this straight. You took out an archeologist team for a blood fix, stole a laptop that was probably monitored, and used it to stream a bunch of dusty, old movies. You’re really cute. You know that?”
“And you’re handsome.”
His eyebrows lifted. “I really hate to disillusion you, Hon, but I’m pretty much average.”
“No.”
“Oh yeah. Average build. A bit tall, maybe, depends on the hemisphere I’m in. If I get sent to any Scandinavian country, I’m actually a tad short. But there you have it. Average is my middle name.”
“No.” This time she shook her head.
“Tassanee. I really like the way you think, but I have to be average. That’s how covert operations work. You blend in. You don’t stand out. Nobody really notices you. That way nobody can do much of a recollection later. But I do like the way you think.”
“You are not average. You are way too handsome.”
“Okay. I give. You can have a dollar. But that’s my top offer.”
“I was also looking at your...whiskers.”
He turned his head to completely face her. “What?”
“If you pay me, I should give you your money’s worth.”
“Wow. You are definitely a woman who takes a man at his word.” He ran a hand over his jaw. “I don’t usually look this rough. So I’ll make a deal with you. When I get near a razor and shower, I’ll handle it for you.”
“You will?”
“I don’t give razor burns on purpose, love.”
“Razor burns?”
“Your lips a little sore? Maybe your chin line? I didn’t mark you too much, did I? Oh damn. You even have a hickey.”
She frowned.
“A hickey. You know. Like a bruise, from sucking a little too hard in certain places. In your case, it would probably contain two puncture marks. From these.” He pointed to his own canine teeth.
“Oh. A neck mark.”
“Yeah. And you have one, which is going to be an instant indicator that we had a great time with in-flight entertainment. Especially since it’s not turtleneck weather.”
She frowned again and scrunched one eye.
“I really like that look of yours, Tassanee. Really.”
“Look?”
“The confused, ‘what the hell is he talking about?’ look. Yeah. That one. Promise not to lose it too soon. Okay?”
He was smiling through it and she matched it. And then his smile faded. He cleared his throat.
“I suppose we should put the cabin back in some semblance of order.”
“Len?”
“Yeah?” he answered it from over his shoulder.
“Will you make love to me again?”
She watched as he went statue-still and then reached for the lever, putting his chair back upright so it matched hers.
“That is not a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Time, mainly. This jet is bound to need refueling soon. We’ve been flying for...” He lifted his wrist and checked the thing on his arm again. “Damn. I knew I should have bought the water resistant one. Let’s just say five hours. No. Wait.” He looked about him and narrowed his eyes. “This is a Gulfstream...G Series. Wow. Depending on modifications, we can probably go twelve to fourteen hours before needing refueling. Then again, I don’t know how long we’ve been flying or how much fuel we had when we started, or what the weather and wind conditions are, all of which affect fuel usage. This is a nice ride, babe. Pricey. But nice. Really nice. I might have to look into getting one myself. I might even have enough funds one of these days since all I do is stick my paychecks in various accounts and sit on it. Oh. And pay taxes.”
“But vampires can fly.”
“Right. I am not touching that. Not even with a ten foot pole.”
“What?”
“Vampires might have the power of flight, but even they have their limitations. They sometimes need to fly beyond daybreak. That’s why VAL has lots of corporate jets. Like this one. Only not quite as nice. Dang. This is a really nice jet.”
“So...we do have time?”
“Tassanee. Babe. I’m beginning to think you have a one-track mind.”
“I do?”
“And trust me. I am definitely your man. I’m just saying time is not our friend at the moment.”
“It’s not?”
“On a flight this long, we might even have two pilots up there. That means one or both are probably due for a pit stop. And that means we’ll have to yank that ax handle loose and release them. And hey. I could go for one, myself.”
“One what?”
“Pit stop. Restroom break. Going to the head.” He shook his head. “Vampires.”
“So...you will make love to me again? Later, maybe?”
“That’s what you were asking? Tassanee. Babe.” He swiveled in his seat, put a finger beneath her chin and lifted her face to his. And he was grinning. From a finger-length distance away. “You have got to be joking. Do I look that dense?”
She shook her head.
“There are not enough munitions in the armory to stop me, sweetheart.”
She frowned.
“No idea what I’m saying, huh? Okay. How about they’re going to have to hog-tie me and sear my ass to the ground. That work?”
She shook her head again.
“Damn. I’m really going to have to use declaratory words, aren’t I? Yikes. I don’t know if I remember how. Or even, if I ever knew. Still nothing, huh?”
She blinked a few times. His grin widened until he was chuckling. And then he stopped, took a deep breath and looked very serious all of a sudden.
“Tassanee. Babe. What happened between us was the most amazing experience of my life. Bar none. And...oh, what the hell. I’m falling for you. Like...hard. The love stuff kind of hard. And that means this mate thing might not be such a bad—whoa there, babe! Watch the seams! I only have one jacket left!”
She was in his arms, and showing him exactly what a hickey from a vampire felt like, and moaning and writhing the entire time. He wasn’t immune. She knew exactly what the bulge at his groin signified now. And when he spoke, it was in panted breaths.
“Okay. You’re right. And when you’re right…you’re right. And we never did get to the ‘Len is on top and in charge’ position. Hold on, babe. We’re going down. I just hope this chair survives it.”