Charlotte

by Mima

  Crushing forward, she licked across one nipple. “I’m ready.”

  With a twirl, he reversed them. Her back against the coarse concrete, his body trapping her against it. He picked her up until her breasts cleared the surface. A pool light set into the wall was directly below, so when her legs oh-so-naturally spread to accept his hips, she had a crystal-clear view. There were her bare folds, his long penis, her softly curving tummy, his flat, rippling abdomen, his round tip meeting her dark cavern.

  Her gasp ripped through the night.

  Ryder moaned, “Temptress. Torturer.”

  “Please . . .”

  His tip entered her, stretching, pulling. “The water will make us take this slow.”

  “No . . .” She strained, using her heels to try to draw him closer. Her hands dug into his arms where he braced her against the wall. Aching, shouting, wild, her body craved him.

  His hips flexed, just slightly, working his tip in and out. He stuck for a moment, tugging inside her, then slid a bit farther in. “Yes, there is your cream. We need to draw it out of you.”

  She shook her head. Breathing as if she’d run the length of the ship, she stared at her shimmering breasts, desperate.

  Again and again he did that small flex, digging into her, drawing back and sliding in easier. Muscles in her depth trembled, trapped between clenching and melting.

  “Look up at the moon, mon chou. Pull down her strength.”

  Her head tipped up and then fell back, her neck unable to support the angle. The moon was beautiful, pure and whispering, the stars attending in an elegant whirl. The light scattered across her face in a refreshing dew.

  Ryder shoved deep in a violent lunge. Mouth gaping, she inhaled the moonlight, shocked at the flash of pain. His mouth closed over her throat, licking, nipping. She wrapped her arms around his head. The burn faded. His mouth lured sensation into her pulse, and her body softened. Her palms clasped his head as his jaw worked along her throat. His hips pressed, and she caught her breath. Holding him within her, she clenched tight. Fabulous.

  He was inside her, his belly mashing hers, her breasts crushed. Squeezing on the cock spearing her, she moaned, “More.”

  Ryder hummed. Stroking in short, strong bursts, he worked himself deeper. Her face pressed to his wet hair where he kissed down her chest, across her shoulder, and up to her ear. She hung limp, legs falling away from his hips.

  Every ounce of her strength was spent just understanding how her body accepted his. The fit was beautiful. The need she’d been dancing with all night grabbed hold of her and dragged her under.

  Now that he hit the end of her, his tip pushing against her secret inside places, his palms skated down her sides, over her hips to her ass. He squeezed and pulled with his hands, pushed and circled with his hips. Her clit was trapped against his hard belly.

  Every jab of his hips ripped into her. His mouth was everywhere. Her gasping groans were a constant drone she couldn’t stop. Her clit flattened, stroked, tapped, her channel stretched, filled . . .

  One last slam against her helpless clit coincided with a hard nip to the edge of her jaw. The orgasm flew through her blood, holding her prisoner. It was hard and glowing, wrapping her up tight.

  Ryder groaned against her throat, body jerking taut against hers. Her heels found the curve of his ass, thighs managing to hold him as best she could. His pleasure thrilled her, awakening echoes of her own.

  When he finished, they stood panting together. Her body was hers once more, her blood settling inside her skin, her heart falling back from heaven. The water bounced around them lightly. She giggled, thinking it looked as happy as she felt.

  “So you are well, then?” Ryder asked, amused.

  “Very well!” She kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you.”

  “Sex is a sweet treat, isn’t it? It really clears the ugliness out of your soul.”

  She pulled back, startled. “Ryder . . . That is so beautiful.”

  He shrugged. “I have had time to contemplate such things, and I find taking virgins makes me philosophical.”

  Laughing out loud, she grabbed his face and kissed him. The quick meeting of their lips stretched out, lingering into a firmer, stronger touch. His mouth opened hers and their tongues entwined.

  Relaxation purred through her. She’d wanted meaningless sex, wanted sensation without attachment. It was a dangerous gamble and she’d really lucked out.

  “Where shall I take you next?” His hands coasted down the back of her thighs and around to her ass. “I vote the diving board. I bet we could get it rocking, and it would be interesting to see if we fall off.”

  Her laughter strangled off as he slid from her. The water hit her like a slap, then the coolness felt good. He was already pulling her hand, towing her toward the stairs a short distance away.

  “Next?” She couldn’t quite get clear of that word.

  “You are not leaving me?” He turned, a melodramatic shocked look on his face. Pressing the back of his hand over his brow, he asked, “Surely you will give me a chance to improve before casting me aside?”

  Sputtering, she shrugged. “I’m not sure what to do now.”

  He winked. “Now you will trust me when I say vampires do not carry diseases and cannot father children, so I will teach you further pleasures. You don’t have plans, do you?”

  Vampires. Right. Somewhere in the orgasm, she’d lost that thread of the evening. And she was a moon fairy. She shook her head. “My schedule is pretty open.”

  He smiled that wide rascal grin. “Then I invite you to spend the evening with me.” He yanked her forward, pulling her into a slinky dance that was semi-waltz, semi-grind. “I’m just warming up. I like you. Don’t go.”

  Blushing, biting her lip, she nodded.

  He crowed, dragging her toward the wide stairs, the water falling shallower. Up on deck, he spun and twirled her down the length of the pool, then stepped up onto the diving board. He led her out to the end, standing with his back to the pool.

  They were about three feet over the water, and the board swayed gently beneath their combined weight. It wasn’t that narrow, and was covered with a textured surface. With a flex of his knees, he set the plank bobbing. The waving lift of it tickled her belly and made her grip his hands tighter.

  “I think I’ll sit here facing out, and you’ll straddle me, and I’ll fuck you until we launch ourselves into the water.”

  Charlotte burst out into a deep belly laugh. “You’re crazy.”

  “I’ve never made love on a diving board before. You need to take pity on an old, sad vampire who craves diversity to fill his empty existence.” Raising his brows, he made puppy eyes at her, blinking dramatically.

  “Oh! Poor, poor Ryder. Such a tragic life.” She made the same eyes back at him. “Of course we will attempt this insanity. Anything to soothe my new lover.”

  His eyes glinted red. “Why thank you, my sweet treat. Let’s play.”

  They were still swaying up and down from his earlier bounce. She looked doubtfully at the board. “I don’t see how I’d be able to get to you in that position.”

  He pulled an outraged face. “You doubt my strength because you are unfamiliar with my race, so I will not be insulted enough to torture you.”

  It was impossible not to chuckle at his mock offense.

  He grew serious, kissing her forehead lightly. “If you prefer, you could lie on this gritty surface. Think how hard it would chafe your back. You could feel the weight of me as I straddle you.”

  Her toes curled at the sensation against her soles, and imagining it against her ass made her breath catch. Then she frowned in curiosity. “Straddle me? Can we have sex like that?” Didn’t the man have to be between her legs?

  His smile was wide and sly. “I have many things to teach you, novice fairy.”

  He b
ent his knees and sent the board swinging up and down again, but this time he wrapped his arms around her tight, kissing her while his rock-hard body held her world in place. When the board was nearly stopped he lifted his lips from hers. “Play with me?”

  She nodded, breath shivering, gaze locked on his lips.

  “How shall I take you? Sitting on the end, or lying along the length?”

  She leaned in and decisively took the wine bottle from him. It was heavier than she’d thought. Using both hands, she raised it to her lips. The glass was smooth and hard, and a phallic image burst into her mind’s eye of Ryder giving her a massage while she kissed the tip of Ivor’s erection.

  A splash of flavor hit her mouth, swamping her with the force of the liquid. She jerked the bottle down, swallowing, sputtering on the too-big mouthful. She swallowed again, and the taste changed into something exotic, spicy, and volcanic.

  A trickle escaped her mouth and ran down her chin. It stained her tee. How sloppy . . . or how wild. She looked at Ryder, still surprised by the wine, by the men, by the night.

  His dark eyes crinkled, but his amusement was kind. “Good?” That caress at her lower spine danced with the wine in her belly.

  She nodded, still mute.

  His other hand rose and brushed the swell of her breast. Her nipples went so hard they formed pebbles right through her sturdy bra.

  “You marked your heart.” His touch lingered.

  She’d thought he was outright heading to her breast, but his finger touched the drop of wine.

  “It’s almost like a target.” Lifting his gaze, he trailed his finger up her throat, along the line of her jaw, and flicked the corner of her lip. “Or a goal.” Taking his finger back, he sucked it into his mouth, holding her gaze.

  His eyes were black, but she swore she saw glitter in them. Watching him suck on his finger with bold enjoyment and pull it free, she continued to study his mouth. His lower lip was far fuller than any other man’s she’d known. But his stubbled jaw was pure masculinity, so the feminine pout it gave him seemed sensual instead. Was sensual. Was sex on wheels, is what that mouth was.

  “Some guys wouldn’t consider a heart a worthy goal.” As soon as she let the heedless words free, she cringed. This was about attraction and daring, not love. He was going to think she was a naïve princess.

  When his soft breath washed over her mouth, she became aware of how she’d twisted, bent over his lounging form, hovering inches from those incredible lips. She froze. His fingers continued to stroke her lower back, steady, mesmerizing. He didn’t seem irritated by her words or looming presence at all.

  “Some guys would be shortsighted. Yes, the outer flesh is easier, but blindly discounting the possibility that the inner organs might be just as satisfying means they’re the inexperienced ones.”

  His words, confident and steady, nearly made her eyes roll up in her head. As it was, her lashes fluttered wildly. His voice was quiet, less showman, more poet. She’d heard a touch of French from him earlier, and this time she heard the faint rhythm of a home country under his excellent English.

  His lips parted, his chin lifting a fraction in gentle invitation. She looked into his eyes and saw starlight. She fell into that gaze, landing with perfection against his mouth. He caught her, steadied her initial shock at the intimacy, then whirled her landscape by opening his jaw wide and plunging inside her.

  His mouth was smooth and soft, controlled, bursting with flavor, slick and fascinating. Both his hands were under her shirt, locked on the deep indentation of her waist, sunk in her soft skin in a carnal promise. She hesitated, aware of him touching her fat, then he moaned, twining his tongue with hers and drawing her into his world.

  His teeth scored her. She’d never stretched her tongue into someone else’s mouth before, and it felt both freeing and silly. His hands rose to her ribs, squeezing, and she melted at his hold, secure as his lips caressed hers.

  The kiss went hotter, mouths wide. There were so many textures to discover. The roof of his mouth, the edge of his teeth, the give of his lips. She grabbed at what he offered, drowned in it.

  By the time she ran out of breath and had to pull away, light-headed, she was prone on the lily pad, her braid digging into her scalp. He leaned over her, eyes slitted, one hand supporting her neck, the other firmly over the swell of a throbbing breast.

  She gasped, chest heaving, staring at him. “I don’t know you.”

  He squeezed her breast, fingertips testing the edge of the cup as if they would rip it down. “But you like me.” He swooped down and licked at her lip.

  His thigh pressed hard into the cradle of her legs, and she realized he had one leg woven between hers. Her knees twitched against the instinct to spread wide.

  “I like you, too.” He sat up, stood up, and took several long swigs from the wine bottle. His body was sleek, gorgeously fit. Both his nipples were hard, peeking from a slight pelt that spread on his upper chest and trailed thinner as it sank.

  The sound of light chatter came to her. Dear God. She was in public. Charlotte glanced around the bar. A man watching her with heavy eyes shifted his gaze away. At least three women were riveted on Ryder, faces flushed.

  Mortification swallowed her. She’d been making out in a bar with the first man who’d shown sexual interest in her. Well, the second man. She sat up so fast the floor tilted, and it had nothing to do with the ship. Gram would laugh at her, for being so lost to self-respect. An admiring stranger, some witty banter, and suddenly she’d gone helpless to a stranger’s kiss.

  Ryder wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “We’re out of here, pixie mine. Let me grab some provisions.” He went to the bar, his leather pants loving his thighs and ass.

  She blew out a breath, soft and long and stunned. When she’d seen couples making out on the train or at the mall, she’d rolled her eyes. She’d thought them ridiculous and rude. The idea of kissing Ryder in the food court made her burst out laughing. She stifled it with both hands.

  He joked with a couple at the bar, slapping the man on the back. The bartender came over and nodded. Charlotte’s heart started to balloon. Was she going to leave the bar with this stranger? She’d been reduced to pure hormones after five minutes with him in public.

  If she went somewhere private . . . she could very much see herself having sex with him. She could see that quite spectacularly. In private, she’d surely get naked at the first opportunity. She flicked the pocket at her hip containing a condom and her ship card. Well, she was prepared. And dear sweet lollipop, she was ready. Ready and willing.

  She stood up, gaze flicking to the open deck beyond the bar, to the moon, to the club. She could just ask to stay here, talk some more. She could invite him to her room and rip all her clothes off. She could drag him into the first dark alcove and hope making out with him more didn’t go farther. Or she could run, right now.

  “Stefan was a lovely person.” Gram’s crooked fingers worked slowly to shell the fresh snap peas. “Did I ever tell you about the lover I took in Krakow?” She smiled dreamily into the silver bowl. “I shelled peas for dinner one night, and he played funny games of catch with them. I found peas all over the studio for days. Oh, how that man could make me laugh, make me see the ordinary in new ways.” She went still and gazed out the window without seeing the lilacs. “Like cucumbers. What that man could do with cucumbers . . .”

  Charlotte tugged her tee down decisively. She’d come here to live. To lust and play. She thought briefly of calling her friend Anne as a safety trick to going off with a stranger, but knew Anne’d probably just call the cops in hysterics, saying that Charlotte was being drugged. Anne was a bit paranoid.

  Ryder turned, now with a wine bottle in each hand. His tousled dark hair waved as he strode toward her with a cocky grin. “Ready?”

  Charlotte nodded. “Yes.” She took the half-empty bottle from him.r />
  He slung his arm around her shoulders, guiding her through the wooden fence onto the darker balcony walk. “What were you thinking of just then?”

  Gram. She smiled. “Cucumbers.”

  He looked down at her askance. “As in . . . sexy cucumbers?”

  She laughed, unsurprised that he caught her sexual reference. “I do like you, Ryder.”

  He gave her a squeeze. “I’m glad.” Taking his arm from around her, he turned so he walked backward, watching her hips, then meeting her eyes again. “Tell me about yourself.”

  She shrugged. “First cruise. No boyfriend. Just hoping for a little—” The word “romance” intruded. Ryder did not seem the romantic type. “—fun.” She smiled at him, comfortable in her decision.

  “Do I detect a New York accent? What do you do?”

  She nodded. “I’m thinking of entering nursing school. I tried it for a semester but had other commitments. I think I’ll look into it again. Right now I just have a filing job at a law firm.” She stopped to take a swig of the wine, more carefully this time. “What about you?”

  He slowed, then hopped up to sit on the railing with uncanny grace, like he knew without looking exactly where to place his feet on the rungs. The wine bottle settled between his legs, but he looked off down the deserted wooden walkway, not teasing her with it.

  “I’m a vampire. It’s very boring.” He pinned her with his gaze. “When I find new, rare things, I appreciate them very much.”

  Charlotte blinked. Rubbing her thumb over the mouth of the wine bottle, she was at a loss for words. Ryder was so . . . different. The flat way he’d delivered the joke made it very hard to laugh.

  She sighed with mock heaviness, trying to play along. “Immortality can be a burden, I suppose.”

  He nodded. Still serious.

  She chewed on her lip, unsure of the giggle trapped in her chest.

  “What are you?” His gaze swept her.

  “Ummm.”

  He reached out and touched the wine spot on her shirt, over her heart. “You’re something made of moonlight, I know that. It’s why we call to each other. Probably what caught Ivor’s attention, too.”