by Michele Hauf
She obliged with a teasingly slow stroll over to the window. Leaning her shoulders against a thin connecting steel column, she eyed him from his shuttered eyelids, to his pulsing hard abs, down to his cock. The head of it was red and swollen. Angry and virile. The color of his want and of her desire.
“Take off that shirt,” he said.
The T-shirt was abandoned as she flung it to the bed. Ethan moved his gaze over her body, and Tuesday leaned her shoulders back against the cool windowpane, the action lifting her breasts. The nipples were so tight and her pussy demanded touch. Yet she could stand there and soak up his adoration for however long he would give it to her.
Ethan gestured his stroking hand toward her mons. “May I?”
Strangely pleased by his polite request to enter her wanting heat, she nodded and tilted her hips forward. Keeping his gaze pinned to hers, Ethan slid his fingers into her folds. He groaned, and slid them within her moistness. The tease of it, of his welcome invasion into her, was enough to make her gasp.
A glint in his gray irises stole something from her. She gave it willingly.
His didn’t remain within her long enough to give her more than a heart-pounding tingle and a wish for him to move deeper. The man returned to the task literally at hand; her wetness gleamed on his length as his strokes about his erection increased velocity.
Sex without the commitment or relationship expectations was exactly the way she preferred it. And it seemed Ethan was completely on board with that. This night was going to be a hell of a lot more interesting than an eight-hour flight to the States.
Slipping her fingers between her folds, Tuesday matched Ethan’s rhythm. They held eye contact, mouths slightly parted, gasps punctuating the brandy-tinted air. A dare was volleyed between them with the curl of a lip, or the lift of an eyebrow. Then of a sudden his strokes slowed. His grin revealed bright whites. And in his eyes a question alighted.
Tuesday turned toward him and tapped her finger on his lips. He lashed out his tongue to taste her salty sweetness. She glided it in deeper, skating his tongue, then slipping it under each of his pointed fangs. They were not lowered, but that didn’t matter. She knew touching a vampire’s fangs was an erotic act. Like touching his cock, it produced the same titillating sensations throughout his system.
He grasped her hand and sucked in her finger, slow, hard... He dashed his tongue firmly at the base, where it met her palm. An exhale heated her skin and she felt the prick of his fang—but he didn’t break skin.
“Taste me,” she dared. “You know you want to.”
He shook his head. “That’s not how we’re doing this.”
“Oh? Is there a guidebook I wasn’t allowed to read?”
“There might be.”
He kissed her finger and placed her hand about his cock. He moved his fingers to squeeze over hers and show her the speed he liked for her strokes. Tuesday was a fast learner and she took over immediately.
The man cupped her jaw and slid his palm over her cheek. His thumb rubbed her lower lip. With a lash of her tongue she tasted his musky flavor twined with hers. She pulled him closer by his hard-on and touched the head of him to her pinnacle, where she was achingly wet and slick. Leaning into him and lifting one leg to hook at his hip, she hinted at allowing him entrance.
Ethan bowed his head to meet foreheads with her. “Tease me, witch. Don’t make this easy.”
She gripped his rod tightly, pushing him away from her. Then she lifted her mouth toward his but didn’t quite connect, save for with a wink. She liked the tease, too. It was filled with heartbeats and breaths, and silent pleadings that were so loud she felt them racing in her blood. Heated sighs mingled. Skin, moist with desire, slid against skin. And their worlds opened wide, coaxing one another to explore. To learn. To know.
“Kneel,” she boldly commanded.
The vampire kissed her lips. A smirk formed behind that kiss, curling on her mouth. A secret he wouldn’t allow her to do more than taste. Then he began to lower. His lips brushed her chin, his tongue dashed the pulse on her neck. He held there, scenting her heat, drawing her in, content to indulge himself in her. She wanted to force him lower, but instead she closed her eyes and took in the frustratingly delicious shiver of Ethan taking his time.
Finally, he kissed lower, slowly, and lingered over her breasts, breathing across them—hush, hush, hush—but not touching for more than a second. And on his path he veered toward her heart chakra, the center of her being, and kissed the sigil, which didn’t glow or pain her in any way. His tongue traced the S shape of it, then followed the straight line that dashed from curl to curl. The tickle of his beard on her breasts tightened her nipples. Another hush.
The man’s journey took him down her stomach. Hot breaths circled her navel. He kneeled and looked up to her, his mouth but inches from her pussy.
Tuesday ran her fingers through his short, spiky hair, reveling in the luxurious softness of it. Yet it looked rough, stalwart. Manly. He begged her permission with his gray eyes. And with a tilt of her hips, she invited him closer.
The first stroke of his tongue to her clit roused a chuckle of affirmation from her. Oh, yeah, the man was on a mission. And his focus did not veer. It required but a few more careful and firm strokes to lift her from the denial she’d been forcing herself to maintain and set her free.
Tuesday came with a throaty growl and a slap of her palms against the window glass behind her. “Yes!” She clasped her fingers tightly against Ethan’s scalp. “Oh, you perfect, nasty vampire.”
The moon highlighted their naked antics, and she realized that the neighbors were probably getting a good show.
Let them watch.
She bowed forward over her lover as the shivering effects of the orgasm tickled through her system and made everything so much brighter, crisper and fan-freakin’-tastic.
“You taste like many worlds,” Ethan whispered against her wetness. “And you come like no world will ever contain you. Powerful witch.”
He kissed her there, and there, and then he slid his fingers inside her and groaned with pleasure. “Fuck.” He tilted his head against her belly, lashing out his tongue across her skin, then looked up to her. Another request for permission gleamed in his eyes.
“I want this—” she toed his cock “—inside me.” She lifted his chin with her fingers. “Now.”
He moved backward toward the bed. Tuesday followed, her fingers still under his chin. With a lift, she directed him up and onto the inviting soft bedding. She then straddled him and crawled forward to position herself as if upon the siege perilous. She may not find the Holy Grail, but she would invade Ethan’s world tonight.
The man spread his arms across the bed and closed his eyes, giving her the control, the freedom to explore his world. He would take what she would give him.
Ethan slid his palms up her arms and then around to cup her breasts. He thumbed her nipples and pinched them gently, then not so gently. That erotic twinge pulled her forward and hastened her need to feel him within her. Gripping the control stick, Tuesday mounted his thick cock and slid onto him slowly, inch by hot inch, taking him into her feminine power and granting him that secret.
The vampire groaned and squeezed her breasts, but without any purpose, for he was falling into her. Filling her. Being owned by her as she squeezed her inner muscles to hug him tightly. His hips rocked. He swore and insisted she go faster, but she kept her pace slow, lingering, enjoying every hot, thick measure of him.
Bending her knees she settled completely onto him and leaned back, catching her palms beside his thighs. He tilted his hips forward, deepening their connection. She may have opened her world to him, but right now the world slipped away. Only they two existed. Rocking, engaged and finding a harmonious rhythm. Such luxury to feel so full and powerful.
Yet the power was shared. And Tuesday didn’t mind that at
all.
As the moon slowly glided across the inky night sky, together they rose to a climax that made their bodies shudder. Ethan’s chest muscles and biceps flexed into steely ropes. His abdomen clenched. His hips tremored as he spilled inside her.
Shivering with exquisite orgasm, Tuesday flung forward to hug her lover. Nestled in his panting embrace, she smiled with satisfaction.
Tonight she had entered the vampire’s world.
Chapter 13
Tuesday rose with the sun, or rather what she expected was early morning. The window shades had drawn down while she had been slumbering. Good ol’ Stuart. She could get used to a home butler like that.
“No, never,” she muttered. There was something creepy about a robot tending the household duties. She’d seen the movies. It never ended well.
Shaking her head, she wandered into Ethan’s kitchen to pour some orange juice. On the kitchen counter, she found one stale croissant in a brown patisserie box so she gnawed on that, thinking to leave the vampire to sleep.
Settling onto the sofa and pulling the bag of supplies she’d purchased onto her lap, she again eyed the bed for movement. That had been some good sex last night. But she didn’t intend to sew any strings of attachment between the two of them. It had just been sex. Leave it at that.
Because she didn’t belong in Paris, and she most certainly was not in the frame of mind to begin an affair with a sexy vampire who knew how to touch her in all the right places in all the right ways.
Even if she had decided getting rid of the love curse was most important.
She blew out a breath and shook her head.
She wasn’t a romantic. Romance had gotten stale for her somewhere around the mid-eighteenth century. Hell, it had been earlier than that. The four days and nights Finnister had tortured her relentlessly had pretty much banished all her idiotic desires for love and romance.
Sex was as she and Ethan had discussed. More than romance, it was a world. And if a person went into a relationship expecting it to fulfill and complete them and make them happy, then they were doing it wrong. Happiness could only come from within. And recognizing that Ethan made her happy—but wasn’t the source of that feeling—was key.
However, there was nothing wrong in reveling in the afterglow of a night having been well-fucked.
Pulling out items from the bag, she decided the Tibetan quartz points might come in handy for a summoning spell. She really needed some shungite, something powerful to shield her from the demon’s awareness, but the shop had been out. The obsidian she wore was strong and attuned to her body, but it tended to shiver when attacked.
The tracking magic she’d given to Ethan with last night’s spell might work. And it might not. Surely, the sex had settled that magic into his very bones. Now, it was all in how he worked with such power. And much as she felt he was a smart guy who could handle this mission on his own, she didn’t want to be left standing on the side. Seriously. She liked to participate. And she owed the demon a smackdown that would make his heart crumble and fall from his chest. He’d gotten all the love over these centuries. It was time to tilt the scales in her favor.
“Time to let the witch reign,” she murmured, and sipped the orange juice.
Another glance to the bed found the sheets pushed away and the mattress absent of a slumbering vampire. He must have slipped into the bathroom. And she hadn’t even noticed. Vampires were shifty like that.
She could only smile at the thought.
Ten minutes later the shower stopped and Ethan wandered through the bedroom with a towel wrapped about his hips. Water droplets glinted on his chest and shoulders, and he scrubbed his hair with a smaller towel until it stood up all over. A slick of his fingers over each side of his head left it styled perfectly. He noticed her watching him and winked at her.
Tuesday experienced a sudden desire to kneel before him and give him whatever he may ask of her.
But she didn’t. That would be pushing it. Was she all of a sudden so wishy-washy simply because she’d been considering romance? Silly witch.
“You’re an early riser. For a vampire,” she commented as he padded into the living area and stood before her.
Tossing the towel he’d used on his hair back to land on the end of the bed, he shrugged. “Never need much sleep. And it’s supposed to rain today around noon. I’m getting ready to go out.”
“Yeah? You got a date?”
His smile was quick and easy. And it held all the answers to the secrets she’d given him last night. “I’m going to test out this tracking magic you gave me.” He splayed a palm down his chest and abs. The red marker was gone, washed away in the shower. The sex had quickened the spell sinking in. The man was now a walking demon compass. “Can’t sit around hoping the demon will come knocking on my door, can I?”
“Does that mean I have to stay here?”
“You do know the danger of coming along.”
“It’s not so much a danger as me being the plague the demon wants to avoid. Do you have your crew ready to go this time?”
“I will.” He sat on the sofa next to her, and the towel parted to reveal his muscular, dark-haired thighs and a tease of penis. “Can I kiss you this morning and tell you how beautiful you are? Or are we not doing that lovey-dovey kind of stuff?”
“I’ll take a kiss and a compliment any day.”
“Good.” He leaned in and kissed her, taking his time as he opened her mouth with his and slipped his tongue against hers. Instant recall of his tongue tasting her pussy filled Tuesday’s chest with a deep and wanting moan. The vampire ended the kiss with a slip of his thumb over her bottom lip. “You’re beautiful, witch.”
“You’re pretty sexy yourself. Want to have hex?”
“I hope that means what I want it to mean.”
“Oh, it does.” Tuesday plunged her hand under the towel and claimed his semi-erect cock with a firm grip. “I get a head start.”
As she bowed to tug away his towel and lick up his quickly hardening length, Ethan commented, “I think I’m the one with the head start, if you know what I mean. Oh, yes, this is a good way to begin the day.”
* * *
Ethan slipped on his Ray-Bans and exited the building. He vacillated on whether or not to drive on his quest to find the demon, then decided against it. On foot he could maneuver quicker and into tighter situations. As vampire he had the ability to traverse the entire city in a swift dash, leaving those he passed only wondering if it was a sudden wind that had brushed their hair across their skin. But he’d start slow as he learned to work with this magic Tuesday had given him.
The training session had been all of a few minutes as she’d explained he had to focus inwardly on his sense of direction and need to stand before the demon Gazariel, while also dividing that focus outward to pick up on signals that indicated he was moving toward that goal. Elementals would work with him, she had explained. He knew elementals were tiny creatures, like sprites, but also not. They were of the elements—earth, air, water and fire—and could resemble their namesakes or not. And they could either choose to be seen or not. A mysterious species that Tuesday had said he should trust would guide him.
So he did.
The forecasted rain was more like a mist, but the sky was clouded and that was all that mattered to a vampire. Still, he kept on the sunglasses so as to notice any wards he should avoid.
Leaving his coat open, and his shirt unbuttoned, he needed to access the invisible sigil on his chest that Tuesday had drawn. Before he’d left, she had taken his hand and placed his forefingers to each of the compass points, between his nipples, above his navel and under his ribs on each side. He had to focus on the demon’s name and his intent, so he murmured, “Take me to Gazariel, The Beautiful One.”
With a touch to the north direction on his chest, he felt nothing. He slid his fingers down
to the south and an inexplicable tug turned him toward the Seine. Had that been the elementals?
“Trust them,” Ethan muttered, and he began to walk, following the minute but definite sensation that seemed to keep his feet on track and his eyes on the prize.
If tracking a demon was this easy, he should consider staffing a dark witch to train his retrievers. On the other hand, none in his employ seemed to have too much trouble locating a mission target. It was the adventure and the hunt that fueled a retriever, and he was feeling that old yet invigorating thrill again. He wondered why he’d ever thought settling behind a desk was for him, and now challenged his idea of where, exactly, he wanted his future to go. Perhaps he should participate in fieldwork more often?
When he reached the river and crossed the busy street to lean over the stone balustrade and peer into the inky waters, he touched his chest again and turned his attention inward to divine his next move. This time he was drawn across the Pont de Sully and into the fifth arrondissement to pass before the Arab World Institute. It was a favorite building of his. The facade was paneled with metal squares that were light-sensitive and could regulate the amount of light that entered the building. They mimicked an element of Arabic architecture, the mashrabiya. It was gorgeous, plain and simple.
Pulled now with more urgency, he walked swiftly down a curving street, and turned this way and that until he’d broached the depths of the fifth and the traffic slowed and the number of pedestrians decreased. He dodged to avoid a cyclist on the sidewalk, then abruptly turned to the right.
He stood before a three-story white stucco building hugged by a small patio area with outdoor dining tables capped by red-and white-striped umbrellas. The aroma of roasting meat appealed to him, and he also picked up the delicious caraway scent of baked rye bread. A four-star restaurant?
He supposed demons did have to eat. And the place was large and spacious, so Ethan could enter without being noticed. But also, it was filled with humans. He couldn’t risk taking the demon into captivity here. He’d have to get him outside.