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Ashes of Midnight

Page 2

by Aurora Rose Lynn


  “What are you doing?” she prompted, her gaze once again on his face.

  “Are you avoiding looking at my hard penis?” he asked, teasing her a little.

  Her eyebrows arched upwards in annoyance. “I want some answers,” she said, her voice unforgiving. “Are you a vampire?”

  He couldn't believe she'd asked him that. His breath stalled, and he swallowed what felt like a rock. “A what?”

  “Vampire,” she said in irritation and crossed her arms across her breasts.

  He burst out laughing and rolled over on his back, unable to help the laughter at the absurdity of her suggestion. “A vampire?” he choked out. “That's funny.”

  He should have watched out for her. She marched up to him and slapped his chest hard. “Are you? Because if you are, I'm out of here.”

  Grant stopped laughing, blinked several times and tamped down the rising hysteria. He needed her. He couldn’t let her walk away and out of his life.

  “Then why do you hide away in here?” she demanded, slapping his chest again.

  He caught her slim wrist and dragged her down to the bed next to him. “Can't you see I'm hard for you? Do you want me?”

  She lifted her blue gaze to his. He'd have fallen for those cloudless summer sky blue eyes anywhere. “We haven't even met, and you want to get me into bed?”

  “You're not a prude, are you?” She hadn't balked when she'd seen him nude, so he guessed she wasn't.

  “Of course not!” she snapped.

  Grant liked this woman. With her spunky guileless behavior, she could put Waneth to shame any time. “We have met, as you know, countless times. I’m the man who haunts your dreams on the last day of the month, as a ghost.” He spat out the last word, his hatred for being a specter overriding his common sense. “I desperately need you.” Not only to make love to me but to save my soul.

  Deep in thought, she pursed her lips. He thought about taking her swiftly, as long as she consented, but quickly discarded the idea. He wasn't an animal and he was going to keep it that way. Violet wanted him with a passionate intensity in her dreams, so he couldn’t see why she didn’t want him now as an Inasad.

  “Why do you want me to make love to you?” she asked softly. Her gaze caressed his body, and roamed to his hard, throbbing shaft. He was hurting but bad, and his balls were so god-damn tight they actually felt constricted.

  “To lift this curse. Because my life depends on you.”

  Chapter Two

  The fight went out of Violet. Her brows arched upward. He had to be joking. All he needed was sex, she assured herself. She wondered how his rock hard cock would feel in her pussy. He had admitted, although she had no idea how he did it, that he was the man in her dreams. Of course, she didn’t doubt him for a moment. The dream Grant and the real man were much too alike. Would he thrust into her a few times and that would be the end of it or would he make out with her slowly? She had never gone to bed with a total stranger before, unless she didn’t consider him a man she’d never encountered. How else could she look at her dreams where they loved each other?

  “Actually, I find you very attractive, but since you busted into my suite, I had to find an opening introduction line fast.”

  Was he kidding? “Then why did you say you'd been waiting for me?” He was playing mind games like Chad had.

  He shrugged nonchalantly. His gaze pinned on her parted lips. “It's All Hallow's Eve, and I figured you might want some company. Some real company.”

  “That had nothing to do with my so-called busting in. I came because of the people dancing downstairs.” Violet recognized the man. “They were like wraiths although they were happy and seemed oblivious to me. It threw me off, and I began to wonder why you stayed secluded in here.” Which was all true. She hadn't expected to find a nude male luxuriating against the white sheets.

  “Were you thinking I was disfigured?”

  She nodded. Her nipples puckered into small, tight peaks against the uniform's bodice.

  He raised his hand and let his tanned fingers linger against the topmost button of her white collar. “I'm not,” he growled, once again sending shivers of pleasure down her spine and into her stomach and lower into her vagina. The crotch of her panties was damp. She wished she'd worn a sexier pair this morning, maybe a pair of thongs instead of the hipsters.

  Very easily, Grant took control and pressed her back against the plumped up pillows, his dark brown eyes unblinking and intent. Strands of autumn-kissed chestnut hair hung low over his brows. “I want to make love to you so badly,” he whispered, touching his lips to hers.

  Violet moaned as he shifted and straddled her thighs. Grant was a big man and he overwhelmed her with his massive, ultra handsome body. “Don't you want me naked?” She set her palms against his shoulders, her fingers digging into his warm flesh. Was she crazy for having sex with this man or did she need the raise that bad so she could get away faster?

  “We'd be on more equal footing,” he suggested. His mouth nipped at the side of throat, tiny kisses so much like the ones in the dreams she'd been having while at Brockhurst. “I mean in terms of clothing,” he clarified almost as if he'd read her thoughts.

  Violet repressed a sigh and ran the tips of her fingers along his shoulder blades, wondering what kind of man Grant Calder was that he could take his housekeeper to bed. Is that why the last one had left so abruptly? According to the agency, she'd only worked here two months before she quit, but she didn't give a reason. Sex with the housekeeper was a no-no.

  “You do want me, don't you, Violet?” Grant asked, intruding on her puzzling thoughts. He sounded hoarse, and his voice was edged with gruff pleading.

  She nodded, focusing on his slumberous eyes that oddly complemented his short hair. She wanted his thick shaft thrusting into her with the same burning intensity she wanted him in her dreams, but shouldn't she be getting to know him better, like who he was and why he was hiding away in his suite like a criminal?

  “What are you thinking?” he asked softly.

  She gave a little embarrassed laugh. “That you might be a criminal.”

  Grant smiled, she thought somewhat self-consciously. “No, not a criminal, but you're probably wondering why I practically live in this set of rooms.”

  Her curiosity stoked even further, Violet nodded. Not only did she want to know but she needed to satisfy herself the man wasn't an axe murderer or someone with lethal instincts, or a vampire.

  “Rest easy,” he murmured. “I would tell you, but this isn't the right time.”

  “Self disclosure never chooses the 'right' time.” Violet shifted under his weight. His cock pressed hard against the V at the top of her thighs.

  He grunted something unintelligible, and fingering her white collar said, “I never liked this uniform anyway.”

  “Then why do you require the maid to wear it?” Drab gray didn't suit her.

  “I'd have the maid wearing nothing at all except for diamonds but most don't appreciate that they are natural works of art.”

  Violet trembled. She was a work of art or was Grant alluding to the other women who'd kept house for him? “I've never heard of a naked maid before.”

  “You might not have heard of a lot of things before,” he murmured, leaning forward and laving the crown of her ear.

  Arousal and need shot through her again, reminding her that Grant was an attractive man, she hadn't had sex in a while, and that mere words weren't easing the arousal ratcheting through her.

  Quietly, she said, “Kiss me,” as he licked the tip of her ear. Need zinged through her and into her groin with breath-stealing force. She weaved her fingers into his hair as his hot breath fanned her face, then he trailed lingering kisses across the expanse of her cheek. The kisses were erotic and spellbinding. Her nipples quivered, and her skin tingled with sexual awareness.

  His lips tasted of golden honey, strong coffee, and a reciprocating awareness that coiled her tighter and tighter. His mouth settled over her l
ower lip, tasting, and savoring. The confines of time slipped away, and they became simply a man and woman with a burning hunger for each other.

  One by one, Grant unfastened the buttons of her bodice and easily slipped the whispery fabric down the length of her arms. Her plain, beige bra was unsnapped in a heartbeat. As if she were a delicate goddess, he pulled aside each cup. Violet watched his dark eyes as they fastened on her breasts with what was akin to worshipful awe. Her clit burned for his gentle touch, and she began to wonder if he'd cast a spell on her. She felt intoxicated and wonderfully sensuous at the same time, but she reminded herself, she was nothing more than the housekeeper and this loving was a one-time deal.

  Grant tweaked her nipple between a forefinger and thumb, and elicited a startled groan from her throat. He bent his head, and his lips played with the taut buds until she wanted to cry out and urge him to hurry lower.

  “Your breasts are beautiful,” he whispered, his voice filled with reverence, as if he'd not been with another woman for some time.

  “Your cock is so―” Violet struggled to find the right word but ended up with a generic one “―hard.”

  “Only for you.” His hungry tongue devoured the sides of her breasts, first one then the other, with firm, deliciously tantalizing strokes.

  She writhed in sheer torture, wanting him inside her pussy. “Fuck me with your hard cock. Please.”

  Grant laughed easily. The sound was warm, intriguing and encouraging. “Patience isn't part of your mentality, is it?”

  She shook her head, noting he'd clearly and quickly recognized one of her faults. “How can I be when I have the most handsome man in the world almost between my legs?” she murmured.

  “I like your way with words,” he replied, his lips moving down to her waist where her clothes were bunched. “You're to the point.”

  “I try to be.” Violet remembered Chad and his parting words. Tears swam in her eyes.

  Grant seemed to sense something had minutely changed. He raised his head, and his gaze was one of inquiry and concern. “Have I done something wrong?”

  Violet found his worried expression sweet. “I was remembering something I probably shouldn't be.” The room blurred in a haze of welling tears.

  He sucked in a breath. “Do you want me to stop?”

  She shook her head, inhaling his unique male, musky scent. “No, I want you to make love to me, no holds barred.”

  But he persisted in his questioning. “Am I hurting you?”

  “No.” Hurry, and come inside me like you almost do in my dreams. Don't you dare leave until I'm satisfied.

  His caring interrogation continued. “Should I know about what you shouldn't be remembering?”

  “There's a time and place,” Violet whispered, raking her fingers through the silken strands of his hair. She realized her whole body was as taut as a guitar string. “This isn't it.”

  He chuckled softly, and once again, the grandfather clock chimed. “You're using my words against me.”

  She gave him a thin smile. “I might be but I'm more interested in you fucking me.”

  “You're a bold lady, aren't you?” He tugged on the clothes at her waist. Her uniform, pantyhose and panties bunched together, and he slid everything down her thighs and her legs, again with the same hushed reverence with which he'd bared her breasts.

  I want you while I can get you. “Oh yes, but you're bold too, waiting for me naked.”

  Grant lifted his knee, slipped it between her thighs, and edged them apart, before settling down between her legs. Her whole body tingled and quivered at the warm touch of his wondering gaze. Violet trailed her hands across his broad shoulders and down to his chest where fine, dark hairs matted his skin and arrowed in a V shape to his bobbing cock. She dragged in a breath at the sheer beauty of the man—sculpted from head to toe, scented with musk and eager for her. She was one lucky woman this All Hallow's Eve.

  Chapter Three

  Grant hesitated. He couldn't help making a comparison between Violet and Waneth. Waneth was devious and he’d played along with her sensual games of seduction. Violet was an innocent and seemed to be waiting for him to make all the moves. He didn't want to disappoint her after he'd seen the lurking pain in her light blue eyes. Had he inadvertently hurt her? How? Did he have time to consider her pain and help her deal with it or ―

  “What time is it?” he breathed, his heart pounding loudly in his ears.

  Violet frowned. “Why do you need to know the time?”

  Grant chastised himself. He had a beautiful, naked woman in his arms and he had to be concerned with midnight. He moistened his suddenly dry lips. How did he go about explaining to her that the clock was ticking, and if he didn't make love to her before midnight, he could be lost forever? Or so Waneth had told him with a sneer.

  “Grant?” Violet encouraged him with pleading, wide eyes.

  He could get used to loving a woman like her. She didn't know much about him but she'd still hiked up her courage and come to bed with him. That raised her in his esteem, along with the knowledge that she'd done a superb job the last few months in cleaning his house, washing his laundry, and cooking fantastic meals that had made him salivate although he couldn’t eat in this dimension. She deserved an explanation, didn't she? Yet he only had time for the explanation or for making love to her, not both.

  He had to make a quick decision. Time was ticking away.

  * * * * *

  Violet watched the struggle in Grant's eyes. What was going on in his head? Tension reverberated in the air around them. “Isn't it kind of late in the game to be changing your mind?”

  “Vi,” he said, gazing into her face with a troubled expression.

  “I get it. You're going to say the same thing Chad said.” Anger simmered deep inside her chest. She pushed at his massive shoulders and rolled back against the pillows to ease away from him.

  “No, I'm not! I don't even know what he said.” He seized her by the waist and dragged her forward.

  “You stop that!” she cried out, overwhelmed by the depth of her longing for him despite waiting for him to speak. She truly hadn't had sex in a while if she wanted him despite that.

  “This has nothing to do with you,” he shouted, his eyes narrowing and his fingers pinching into the curve of her waist.

  Her rigid spine slid smoothly against the silk sheets. “You're making love to me and this has nothing to do with me? Are you crazy?” For all she knew, he could be. Men who hid away from loved ones, friends and society were usually dangerous. Didn't she just always pick the right men?

  His cock was still rock hard, the tip of his glans moist with pre-cum. He was gorgeous and as needy as she was. Why throw this opportunity away? He must have been thinking much the same thing. He gritted his teeth, pushed his thighs closer to hers, and thrust into her pussy without warning.

  She cried out at his not unwelcome entry and closed her eyelids to absorb the feelings coursing through her. Pain fell away, replaced by a slice of pure heaven and bliss. Her vagina clenched around his shaft, and her muscles knotted. The silk sheets against her back provided little resistance as she slid back and forth on them. To accommodate his bulk better, she lifted her legs and circled them around his waist. Grant would take her and then throw her away like an old dishrag, she thought dismally, but this once she could enjoy his body.

  Her body melded with his as his powerful strokes ushered his orgasm closer. Every fiber of her body, from her warm skin to her tense muscles, craved the final release, the explosion of inner awareness into the outer realm of sense and feeling.

  The grandfather clock shattered her concentration. How close was it to midnight when purportedly ghosts, goblins, witches, and the dark creatures of the night arrived in force?

  Unexpectedly, Grant stopped his mad thrusting. Violet blinked her eyes open and gazed into his face. His own eyes were closed tightly. His lashes feathered his tanned cheeks as his neck arched backwards like a bow waiting to be releas
ed. A heavy groan escaped his lips, and a sheen of perspiration lined his forehead. An uneasy thought sparked through her mind. Was she sleeping with the devil?

  * * * * *

  He needed to take care of Violet, Grant reminded himself as he hurtled through the outstretched emptiness of the space in his mind. His impoverished childhood, his life before Waneth, the times he'd spent in that other dimension which he abhorred, and now Violet who, unknowingly, was his lifeline to reason and sanity. If he admitted the truth, she had been for the last six months as he roamed the Inasad world, connecting with her in the world of dreams, a shortcut bridge between dimensions that few people realized existed.

  Age-old need drove him on, and he once more thrust into Violet’s channel with robust strokes. He knew she wasn't fragile, either in body, spirit or mind, and didn't understand his sudden need to care for her. Was he being possessive after she'd slipped into his bed without knowing the truth about him? How would she remember him? As an egocentric male who'd wanted sex for the pleasure of the act? Or would she remember him at all? Why did it matter?

  Like thunder rolling off in the distance but rapidly approaching, his body tensed, and then with a surge of power, he let himself go inside her channel. He felt the awful and exhilarating pressure of release, and Violet's pussy clenched around his cock with a long, shuddering spasm.

  With a great deal of relief, he realized he hadn't burst into a pulse of bright light and vanished after making love to a woman. Grant knew his motivation had been selfish but he'd yearned to know if it had been the power of his orgasm with Waneth that had thrown him into the other dimension. Now he was forced to conclude that had nothing to do with his traveling from here to there.

 

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