Passion For Hire (Passion #5)

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Passion For Hire (Passion #5) Page 4

by J. a Melville


  Something about Faith challenged him. He’d never met a woman he couldn’t bring to orgasm and he was determined she wouldn’t be his first failure.

  Forcing himself to refocus, he began to nip, lick, suck and caress her with more intensity, more forcefully and was rewarded for his efforts by the sounds coming from her, more moans and gasps. Once he found her trigger, that little spot that seemed to make her gasp and moan louder, he worked on it, driving her closer and closer to her release.

  Her body rose from the bed as she ground her cunt against his lips and he could hear the clanking of the metal supports on the headboard as she writhed and thrashed around.

  Mentally he began to will her on, needing her to come, needing to bring her to her very first orgasm, or at least one she was aware of anyway.

  “Adrian, Adrian, please, stop, stop, I can’t take it. It’s…it’s…oh…oh...Adrian please.” Her husky pleas began to fill the air and he couldn’t help the grin that curved up his lips, knowing she was close to coming. He continued to swirl his tongue faster and faster over her swollen and highly sensitised clit as he stabbed his fingers inside her, grazing her sweet spot.

  Suddenly her body went rigid, her back bowing and she cried out his name. Her cry turning to a scream and he buried his fingers in her, keeping them still. He could feel the powerful muscles inside her clenching around them, squeezing rhythmically, her warm wetness coated them as she finally let go, her orgasm exploding through her.

  He lifted his head to watch her, seeing the way her mouth was twisted as if she was in pain but he knew she wasn’t. She was simply in the throes of what appeared to be an intensely pleasurable orgasm. She’d taken a lot of work and he’d needed to use nearly every basic skill he had, but he’d done it, and the evidence of that was still wetting his fingers.

  He pulled them out of her and lowered his head, breathing in her scent. God she smelled so good, so intoxicating to him. Her scent was unique, unlike anything he’d smelled before and he felt a wave of desire course through him, making him suddenly want to bury his aching cock inside her.

  That wasn’t happening though. He would not be the one to take her virginity so ignoring the demands of his body, something he’d become very proficient at doing, he lowered his head and began to lap up the sweetness of the juices flowing from her.

  Finally when he was done and she was lying quietly except for her ragged breathing which still filled the room, he climbed off the bed and quickly untied the scarf from the back of her head. When he removed it, Faith blinked rapidly as her eyes adjusted to the light in the room again and when they met his, he watched the dark flood of colour fill her cheeks.

  “So, was that ok for you sweetheart?” He asked, knowing full well that it had been more than ok for her. “Did you enjoy your first orgasm?”

  She averted her eyes from his and when she spoke her voice was low and quiet. “You know I did. God, that was so embarrassing. You had your mouth on me and I rubbed myself against you didn’t I?” She peered over at him briefly before covering her face with her hands.

  He sat down on the bed by her side, reaching out to brush her blonde strands of hair back from her face. “Don’t be embarrassed because you enjoyed yourself. That was the whole purpose of that little exercise, to make you come. You made me work for it, that’s for sure but you were beautiful, spectacular to watch as you orgasmed. Do not be shy or embarrassed about that.”

  She uncovered her face and looked at him. “Is that what you do every night to all different women?”

  He sighed. “Is that really relevant now Faith? You know what I do. I make women happy. I give them what they want to be happy.”

  “Yes but that’s for money. You don’t really care about them, and they don’t really care about you do they? Doesn’t it feel kind of, I don’t know, kind of empty? Don’t you wish you had someone who loved you?”

  Adrian chuckled. “Ever the romantic aren’t you? Don’t worry about me sweetheart. I don’t need love and I don’t need a little woman to come home to each day. I’m happy enough with my life the way it is.”

  “I don’t believe you. You are tormented. You don’t sleep well do you? Whether you sleep here or in your other home where you have…” She stopped abruptly when he shot her a warning look.

  “Don’t…you…dare…bring…them…up.” He ground out and saw a flash of fear in Faith’s eyes at his tone.

  “I wasn’t going to say anything. I won’t say anything to anyone.” She said and reached out to place her slim hand on his thigh. He tensed up under her touch and stood up again.

  “I should get back to bed. It’s late, you must be tired.”

  “What about you Adrian? I…you…you’re clearly…you know.” She pointed at his groin.

  “Do not worry about me sweetheart. My job often involves me giving women pleasure that does not necessarily mean a release for me. I’m used to being aroused for hours. The nature of what I do means I must have excellent control. This is not about my pleasure but the woman’s pleasure. In this case, it was your pleasure. Now my job is done, I will return to my bed.”

  “How much?” Her eyes met his. “How much do I owe you?”

  Adrian felt anger surge through him. She dared to insult him like this? “I...didn’t…do…this…for…money. Do not insult me this way.”

  “I’m sorry, please forgive me.” She begged, scrambling off the bed. Her legs were still weak from the intensity of the orgasm he’d given her and she nearly fell but he managed to grab her in time. She stumbled though and landed against him, her arms sliding around his waist. She raised her face to his, her expression nervous. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, don’t be mad at me.” She dropped her face to his bare chest and began to rain soft kisses over him.

  “It’s fine Faith. Please, don’t do this. Get some rest.” He peeled her off him and tilted her face to his. “Good night sweetheart.” He dropped his head to kiss her cheek but again she turned her face to his and their lips met.

  For a brief moment he allowed himself to deepen the kiss, his lips pressing harder against hers, forcing hers to part, and he ran his tongue along her full lower one before suddenly releasing her and stepping back.

  When he looked into her stunning face, her expression was confused, her eyes clouded with the renewal of her desire. Damn this girl was really going to complicate his life, and it was shit enough without adding her to the mix. He had to stay away from her. Fucked if he knew what had possessed him to want to make her come. It must have been the challenge of it or idiocy on his part. Well he’d made her come, now it was time to get the hell away from her.

  “Good night Faith.” He said quietly and walked quickly to the door with long strides. He twisted the door knob and turned back to her, smothering a groan when he saw her standing there, her hair all tousled and wild around her face. Her eyes alight with her desire for him, nipples pushing firmly against her dress and looking so fucking beautiful. He shook his head and for the first time in as long as he could remember, he had to force himself to turn away from her and walk out the door, closing it quietly behind him.

  When he got back to his own room he closed the door and leaned against the cool timber silently cursing his stupidity for showing even the tiniest crack in his façade around Faith. He should never have gone into her room. He should have left the minute he’d seen she was ok, just obviously enjoying a not very virginal dream, and he shouldn’t have stayed with her and done what he did, bringing her to orgasm like that. He’d let his stupid ego rule him and that satisfaction he got from making a woman come, drove him to want to make her come too.

  Anything he did might be misconstrued by her into thinking she had a chance with him, but she didn’t, no woman did. She had simply amused him with her shyness and her frequent blushing, and then when she’d admitted she’d never orgasmed he’d been unable to help himself. He’d risen to the challenge and had to be the one who cracked her, who popped her orgasm cherry so to speak. Still that was
the only cherry he was popping. He couldn’t take her virginity. She was sweet, he could tell, beautiful, stunningly so and innocent. She deserved to have a man who would love her, respect her and treat her the way she needed to be treated. Not just end up an occasional fuck for a vampire in between all the paid fucks and foreplay he spent his evenings participating in.

  She’d been one of the hardest women to pleasure that he’d experienced in a long time. That brain of hers was never silent it seemed. She’d spent so long analysing everything he was doing to her and worrying about it, that she’d been unable to relax. It had taken a while to get her to allow herself to simply feel what he was doing, rather than wondering what his impression was of her between her thighs. Her foolish concerns had inhibited her ability to simply enjoy the slow build to climax.

  It had been the sweetest music to his ears when she’d finally tipped over the edge and he’d felt her muscles clamp around him, squeezing him, and the moisture which soaked his fingers. She had certainly tested him. Tested his skills at pleasing a woman and certainly tested his control. He prided himself on his control. He needed to have excellent control because of what he did. The woman’s pleasure always came first. That’s what they were paying him for after all. Sometimes they wanted to have sex with him so he’d get the opportunity to ease the pain from being erect for hours but if the woman was only paying him to get her off, then he would be left with a hard on. He knew it and accepted it. It was all part of the job. Once he got home if he wanted to he would take himself in hand and relieve the pressure that way. Often he would go to bed, hard, hungry for release but strangely satisfied that he was suffering the discomfort of a denied orgasm. It was fitting punishment as far as he was concerned. He’d fucked up in the early days of being vampire and had inadvertently stuffed up the lives of two people. He deserved an eternity of suffering for what he’d done.

  He slowly removed his jeans, tossing them over one of the chairs in his room and climbed into bed, his hand closing around his rigid shaft. With his eyes closed, he began to work his cock through his fist, squeezing it, until it hurt. Faster and faster he moved his hand, the pressure building to an excruciatingly painful level. When he knew he was about to tip over the edge and come, he removed his hand, clenching his teeth hard together. He lay there as his body throbbed and ached with the pain of its denied release.

  Time moved agonisingly slowly as he put himself through his self-inflicted torture. Although it was probably only about half an hour, it felt longer as his cock throbbed, the long hard length of it tenting up the sheet. Just the merest brush of the material on his engorged flesh hurt. His fangs descended and he bit his wrist finding the pain as they penetrated his skin an almost welcome distraction from the throbbing pressure in his balls.

  His hugely swollen shaft jerked and he watched as a tiny wet stain appeared on the sheet, bleeding out wider. He hadn’t come, he was determined he wouldn’t. This was all part of testing his control and punishing himself the way he deserved to be punished. Unfortunately he couldn’t stop the pre cum that wept from his cock but after a few more drops, it finally stopped.

  He rolled onto his side and closed his eyes, willing himself to sleep but images of Faith’s face kept filling his head. Her stunning features, her perky breasts, slim waist and that sweet, sweet untouched cunt. His nostrils flared at the remembered scent of her, and when his body shuddered, his cock jerking as the orgasm he’d denied himself unexpectedly ripped through him, he groaned before his groan turned into a sound of torture, a cry of pain and anguish. As he felt the flood of cum soak his sheets he shut his eyes, tears squeezing from the corners and allowed just for a moment to let the agony of his guilt consume him.

  He’d failed. He’d failed to hold back his orgasm but more importantly he’d failed as a man and vampire. He’d fucked up, and he faced an eternity of never being able to fix the fuck up he’d created. He’d thought about using witchcraft, but although he’d proved to his parents he was a warlock he wasn’t anywhere near his mother for ability. He could do a few simple things but having the ability to feel the emotions of others, to have empathy for them, to feel their wants and needs, was his real talent.

  He had to use that talent to keep the money rolling in so he could keep his awful secret from his family. Of course Faith had fucked it a bit for him now. He wasn’t prepared to ask her exactly what she thought was going on because he didn’t want to hear it spoken aloud, to hear someone voice the crime he had committed. A crime that if his father found out would surely be enough to have him killed. Faith’s arrival had suddenly turned his life upside down. He would have to watch her, but avoid her too. She had her own agenda, this crazy notion that they were supposed to be together. Did she keep forgetting what he was? He was a vampire; she was human, and a virginal human at that. There were two excellent reasons right there, why they could never be together, and that didn’t even allow for the complications he had going on in his life.

  Cursing under his breath at how much that sweet blonde woman just two rooms down from his had already disrupted his life; he hauled himself out of bed again. He snatched the stained sheets off and hurled them into the laundry chute before grabbing fresh linen and hastily making up the bed. Once it was remade he threw himself down on the crisp clean sheets. He lay there for a while, staring at his reflection through the mirrors on the underside of the canopy top of his bed. Why the hell did his father have to have every fucking room in the house set up like a damn brothel? He didn’t need to be looking at his own troubled expression in the mirrors. He didn’t need to see himself at all while in bed. Mirrors on the ceiling were for adding that little bit extra during sex in his opinion. He never brought a woman to his bed though and it was highly unlikely he ever would.

  Adrian lay there tossing and turning, unable to sleep, every minute that passed felt like an hour and finally, frustrated with the fact he couldn’t shake the images of Faith from his head, he climbed out of bed again.

  Feeling unsettled and restless he headed for his walk in robe, tugged on a pair of dark jeans, shoes, a black long sleeved shirt that laced up at the neck. It was what Donna, one of his clients referred to as his pirate shirt. He tied his hair into a smooth ponytail and left his room.

  He hoped he’d make it out of the house without running into anyone and fortunately he did. Once outside, he climbed into his favourite car, a recent purchase, a 1981 black Pontiac Trans Am Firebird and started it up. A feeling of calm flowed through him when the loud throaty V8 rumbled to life. He backed out of his driveway and with a squeal of tyres; he shot off down the road.

  He wasn’t normally out at this time of day. It was still daylight but the sun was already sitting low in the sky so the sting had gone out of it. They might have the tattoos which allowed them to be outside in sunlight but it still irritated their skin if they were out in it too long. Still, with the sun as low as it was and partially obscured by some cloud cover, he was spared any irritation it could cause him.

  When he finally pulled up in the driveway of his home away from home, the home his family knew nothing of, he let himself inside and headed straight down the hallway. The house was quite large and he had one wing closed off to the rest of it but he unlocked the door and walked through, heading for the darkened bedroom.

  As he stepped inside, his eyes shifted to the figure lying in the bed and as if suddenly aware of his presence the young man beneath the sheets sat up and pale grey eyes met his. “Hello Father.” The figure in the bed said as he looked up at him.

  Chapter Four

  Faith

  I couldn’t sleep after Adrian had left me and as a result I heard him leave his room an hour or so later. I’d heard him leave the house and the deep rumbling sound of a car engine followed soon after, so I knew he’d left the house and was going somewhere although I didn’t know where.

  I was still in shock over what I’d allowed him to do to me and the way I’d responded. God, would I ever be able to look him in the eye a
gain without turning beetroot red?

  I rolled over and smelled him, that beautiful scent that surrounded him. I breathed it in, wishing he was here with me. Oh how I wished I could hold him and kiss him and just let his scent invade all my senses but he was so determined not to crack. I had no sexual experience but I wasn’t so naïve that I hadn’t been able to tell he’d had an erection. He looked huge from what I could see through his jeans and they were old jeans. The fabric softened from a lot of wear and washing. They had fitted his beautiful body to perfection and had done nothing to hide how big and hard his penis had looked through the denim. Yet he’d just walked away and hadn’t shown any interest in trying to have sex with me, and he certainly hadn’t wanted me to touch him. I’d never attempted to pleasure a man before but I’d have tried with him if he’d told me what to do, but he’d chosen to return to his room. Why he’d then gone out again, I wasn’t sure but I just wanted him back. I needed to spend time with him to make him see we were meant to be with one another.

  An idea hit me; I could be with him even when he wasn’t actually here physically. I climbed out of bed and quietly let myself out of my room, tip toeing down the hallway to Adrian’s room. I carefully opened his door and snuck inside thankful to have made it without being caught.

  The jeans he’d worn when he came to my room were thrown over a chair in one corner of the room and I picked them up, holding them to my nostrils so I could breathe in his scent. I caressed the denim between my fingers loving the softness of them. My head filling with the image of him as he’d stood before me wearing them.

 

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