John tapped a finger on his chin. “Ramsey isn’t too cooperative just yet. We’ll work on that.
“Of course, once we convince him that he was sleeping with monsters, maybe he’ll come around. No matter what—we need to know how he survived so many bites without turning.”
Holt nodded. Ramsey would just have to get with the program. If there was even a remote chance that Ramsey’s blood held the key to some sort of immunity, they had to find it.
“I’ll go see if I can talk Ivy into grabbing something to eat. She needs some rest,” Holt said.
“Do that. Come around and see Skylar later,” John said. “Maybe playing with the baby will take her mind off of things. Besides…” John winked, “…I have a feeling Ivy is going to be around here for a while.”
Holt felt heat rush through him. He grunted and turned away. This was new, he thought, walking into Heather’s exam room. I’ve never felt this before. Could this be embarrassment? He shook his head and came up behind Ivy where she stood at the side of Heather’s bed.
“How is she?” he asked, slipping an arm around Ivy’s waist.
Lydia was adjusting the IV. “She’ll be okay. Her wounds were all mainly grazing scratches.” Lydia looked over her shoulder at him. “Two were true bites.”
Holt knew the implications of her statement. One more deep bite and Heather would have been turned.
Ivy looked up at him. She waved a hand around the exam room. “You really need to explain all of this to me.”
“I will. We have time.”
Ivy raised an eyebrow. “How long will she have to stay here?” Ivy asked turning to Lydia.
Lydia smiled knowingly. “Her treatment will take a few hours. Then she’ll need at least a week of rest.” Lydia glanced at Holt and winked, then she looked back at Ivy. “I assumed that you both would be staying for … a long time.”
Holt took a deep breath. He was nervous. He didn’t like being nervous. What was Ivy going to say in answer to Lydia’s comment?
“I don’t know,” Ivy said, turning to him. “I have a home and a job in Chicago.” She tilted her head. “Do you want me to stay, Holt?”
He wanted more than that. Much more. “Yes. I want you to stay.”
Ivy put a finger to her lip. There was a sparkle in her eye—a wicked one. “Well then,” she said, “you’re going to have to convince me.”
He took her by the arm. “Come on, then. Heather will be just fine here with Lydia.”
She pulled against his touch. “Are you ordering me around again?”
Holt looked at her and saw the challenge in her eyes. She wasn’t fighting him—she was daring him. Holt pulled her into the hall, her feet sliding on the slick floor. Just outside the door to the exam room, he pinned her against the wall, one hand on each side of her. She tried to duck under but Holt was quicker. Snaring her, he caught her lips with his mouth, pressing her against the wall with his body.
Ivy moaned into his mouth, her tongue slipping between his lips. He nipped it with his fangs and felt her shiver. Heat roared through him, swelling his cock. Damn, he wanted her. And now. Her pert little breasts pressed against his chest, her tongue battling with his as her fingers clutched at his shoulders. She tasted sweet and warm and he wanted to taste more of her.
With a groan, he broke the kiss. Grabbing her by the waist, Holt hoisted her over his shoulder and strode down the hall toward his wing.
“Holt, dammit, put me down!” she complained, wiggling on his shoulders.
He didn’t answer. He only tightened his grip on her sweet, round ass.
Ivy pulled his ponytail, jerking his head back.
Holt reached up and slapped her butt. “You’re cruising for a spanking, little girl.”
Ivy let out a giggle. “Promises, promises.”
Holt smiled and entered his own personal wing of Ravencrest.
*
Ivy clung to Holt’s T-shirt as he carried her through what looked like a living room. Decked out in black leather, the couch and chairs were stylish yet looked comfortable.
Her ass stung from his slap when she pulled his hair but it left her tingling and wet. Especially since his thick fingers rubbed suggestively against the seam of her jeans as he dug into the cleft of her butt cheeks to hold her on his shoulder.
She stopped struggling but she wasn’t finished yet. Holt was going to have to work for it. Ivy had a feeling that she was going to enjoy pushing big, bad and mostly silent to his limit.
Relieved that Heather was physically going to pull through, Ivy was ready to have a little fun. She wanted to stay here with Holt, felt more connected with him than she had with anyone. She didn’t know if a relationship with him would last forever but she’d sure like to give it a try.
But, he was going to have to convince her that he was worth her giving up her life in Chicago.
They entered a bedroom. The walls were a dark chocolate, the king-sized bed draped in rust colored satin. Such softness for such a gruff looking man, she thought.
Holt spun Ivy around once, twice, then tossed her in the middle of the bed.
Ivy bit back a laugh as she rolled, sliding on the satin. She came up on all fours, facing him. With a grin, she started scooting backward, away from him.
Holt leapt.
Ivy screamed, his arms coming around her. They tumbled on the bed. Ivy struggled, but she was no match for him. Before she knew it, he had her pinned beneath him. One leg on either side of her, he held her hands above her head in one of his own.
Ivy panted, her breath coming in short gasps. God, he was so menacing and so sexy. His eyes flamed with lust, his nostrils flaring. Ivy’s panties were absolutely soaked with her need for him. She ran her tongue slowly over her lips. “Now, what are you going to do?” she asked, one eyebrow raised.
His nostrils flared again as he drew in a deep breath.
Ivy vibrated with anticipation. Shimmering tingles raced through her. She fought not to beg. No. She wanted him to beg.
Holt lowered his head until their noses practically touched. With his long tongue, he licked her lips, tasting.
Ivy parted her lips and let out a sigh.
She closed her eyes and tilted her chin up. His hot wet tongue traveled along her jaw and down the side of her neck. She breathed in deep.
Suddenly, she felt his teeth, sharp fangs, against the skin of her neck. Ivy’s eyes popped open and she gasped. He drew his fangs along her jugular, barely scraping the skin, until he came to her collarbone.
Ivy felt herself flush with longing. She wriggled her hands, wanting to tangle her fingers in his hair, press his mouth to her. Wanted him to bite. But he held her tightly and her hands stayed put.
Holt kept moving down her body. She wore nothing beneath her thin T-shirt and when he tweaked her pebbled nipple of one breast between his thumb and forefinger, it sent a spiking shock straight to her pussy. Ivy whined and wiggled beneath him. When he bent his head and took the budded nipple into his mouth, Ivy was pushed closer to the point of begging. The suction of his hot mouth coupled with the slight rub of the T-shirt material against her sensitive bud made Ivy want to scream.
“Holt,” she choked out. “Let me loose.”
He nipped her breast lightly, then released her hands.
She reached for him but he batted her hands away. He grabbed the neckline of her T-shirt in both hands and jerked. The material was like tissue in his powerful hands. The shirt ripped straight down the center, baring her breasts to his hot gaze.
Ivy grasped the satin coverlet beneath her, balling it in her fists as he suckled one breast while he tweaked and plucked the other with his fingers. Her heart pounded, her breath blew out between her parted lips. She brought a hand up to stroke his hair but as soon as he felt her touch, his head jerked up.
She caught his stare. It was fiery and demanding. He grabbed her wrist and pressed it back down to the bed. So, she thought, the game is that I’m not to touch him. She’d play that game. For
a while.
Ivy relaxed her hands and winked at him. Her body was buzzing and her pussy was wet with cream. She wouldn’t be able to play this game for long.
Holt moved off of her. He grabbed her ankles and drew her to the edge of the bed. Two quick flicks of his wrists and her boots flew across the room. Ivy jumped when she heard one of them hit something, glass shattering. Holt didn’t acknowledge the sound. He was busy stripping her bottom half and he wasn’t being too gentle about it.
He jerked and pulled as if she was a doll. Ivy didn’t complain when her jeans rasped against her skin as he pulled them off. Nor did she complain when he severed one leg of her panties at the hip in his bare hands. He did the same to the other leg and drew the tattered cloth from between her legs.
Holt straightened and brought the remnants of her panties up to his face. First, he sniffed. His eyes flashed.
Ivy sucked in her breath. Damn, how erotic, she thought, a rush flowing slowly through her as she watched him.
Then, he brought the cloth to his lips.
Ivy drew in a breath through dry lips as she watched him suck her cream from the cloth, his eyes never leaving hers. Her pussy rumbled and clenched, wanting him—any part of him—inside her. I’m going to come and he’s not even touching me, she thought, amazed at his power over her.
He tossed the shredded panties away. Grabbing her by the ankles again, he pulled until her ass was at the edge of the bed. Dropping down on his knees, he spread her thighs and draped her legs over his shoulders.
Ivy quivered, waiting for the first touch of Holt’s very experienced tongue on her hot flesh.
He parted her nether lips gently with his fingers, taking his time. Ivy groaned. Her body readied itself for the first swipe of his tongue, her juices flowing until she could feel them seep into the cleft of her bottom, wetting her there. She lay her head back on the bed and spread her legs wide, giving him full access.
Holt’s fingers spread her pussy wider. A hot breath blew over her heated folds. Ivy cocked her hips up, offering herself. She bit her lips, squeezing her eyes shut. Another breath, warm, circled over her clit.
“Holt … please,” she whispered. She didn’t want to beg but the anticipation was driving her insane.
He dipped one finger inside her velvet sheath, swirled, and then removed it.
Ivy’s pussy clenched, wanting his thick finger back inside. “Mmm,” she murmured, her lips pressed tight as he used her cream to slicken her between her cheeks while blowing another breath over her swollen clit.
“Do you want something, Ivy?” he asked. His tongue slid slowly across her bud.
Ivy jerked up, gasping. “Yes, Holt—yes.”
His finger played at her anus, rubbing, sending shivers through her. He blew across her again. “Are you going to stay with me?” His voice was a low growl.
Ivy raised her head and looked at him. His face was all hard planes and angles. His eyes burned with intensity. Ivy’s thighs were shaking. Holt flicked out his tongue and drew a slow circle around her clit, not touching the bud itself. “Stay Ivy,” he said.
She licked her lips. “I’ll stay.” What else could she do? No man had ever driven her this crazy with need before. No one had ever incited such passion inside her. No one had ever made her feel so safe and wanted in his presence. Ivy had wanted to stay with him, be with him, since that first night, sensing something in Holt that she connected to on a very primal level. And not only that … he had stolen her heart.
A smile was playing over his wicked lips.
Ivy cocked her hips and widened her knees. “Stop driving me nuts,” she said, heat crawling over her skin. “Eat me.”
Holt’s smile widened, his fangs glistening.
*
Holt was happy to oblige her command. He had wanted to torture her until she agreed to stay. The little wench hadn’t been able to hold out for very long at all.
Holt leaned into her over flower and took one, long slow lick over her clit. She tasted so good. He closed his eyes. Ivy moaned, sighing as he laved her sweet pussy, gently, edging her toward climax. She tasted heady and spicy and he couldn’t help but capture her swollen bud in his teeth. He bit down on her nubbin, sliding two fingers into her dripping pussy, and groaned as she bucked against him and cried out.
She liked a little pain then, he thought, increasing the pressure of his teeth slightly. He stroked his fingers in and out, the wet sucking sounds of her puss hardening him until he was afraid he would burst. He used his tongue to massage her clit. Little moans issued from her, her hips rocking up to fuck his mouth. God, he loved it. Holt felt electric shocks running through his balls as he removed his fingers from the tight squeeze of her pussy. He opened his mouth wide, his lips sliding over the wet, satiny flesh of her peach wile he positioned his hand to pleasure her in another way.
*
Ivy almost couldn’t breath. Her body was on fire, sweat dewing her skin. Holt’s mouth was a treasure that she’d never give up and two of his fingers inside of her were better than any man’s cock. She felt him slide his fingers out of her. She whimpered, wanting them back.
“Are you ready, Ivy?” he asked.
All she could do was nod.
“Come, then.”
She felt the pull of his mouth, suctioning on her clit at the same time he slid one slick finger into her anus. Ivy’s insides coiled, an overwound spring ready to be sprung. His finger vibrated inside her backside as he shook it gently. “I … I’m gonna…,” her words trailed off as he sucked deeper at her center. He began to run his finger slowly in and out, the sensation of the rough skin of his finger sending shivers up her spine all the way to the base of her neck. She clutched the coverlet, holding on for dear life as this new sensual pleasure filled her, her breath coming in great gasps.
One long, deep suck of his mouth took her all the way to the edge.
Holt bit down and buried his finger inside her at the same time.
Ivy screamed, falling over the edge into oblivion, sheer sweet pleasure, her muscles clenching hard, body bucking as she came. Small shards of pain threaded through the pleasure, unbelievably erotic, a new sensation that she definitely wanted to explore more thoroughly. “Ohhhh,” she sighed, her muscles still rippling, beginning to build up again, as Holt fed from her pussy. Ivy jerked, her body wanting to convulse against his mouth. So good. Oh God, so good. He didn’t stop. Ivy had felt a prick of pain when he’d bit down, his fangs piercing the tender skin of her nubbin. With each pull of his mouth on her clit, she felt it drive down deep inside her being, a spike to her center as he drew her blood along with her cream.
Sanguine, she thought, the tide rolling up again. I never thought it could be so … then her thoughts were gone and then was only her senses.
Holt groaned between her legs then rose up, edging her legs down as he removed his finger from her backside. The sensation was exquisite as it slid out, a flash of sharp pleasure. She opened her eyes and watched as he stood between her spread legs and began removing his clothes.
Ivy’s legs felt like water. Still, she managed to sit up on the bed. Her hair was wet with sweat, her crotch and ass buzzing with sensations she never knew could be so strong and so luscious. “I want more, Holt,” she said, her voice cracking. She started to remove the remains of her ripped T-shirt.
“Leave it on,” he commanded, stepping out of his pants.
“Yes, master, she said, wondering if he would like it if she played the part of being submissive. It was something that she’d never done before. She liked being in control. But with Holt, it was different. His presence alone was commanding. Holt’s eyes narrowed, raking over her as he freed his rod from the confines of his briefs.
Ivy’s mouth watered. His dick was large, ready for her. She remembered his taste, slightly salty, warm. She sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes feasting on him.
Holt stood for her inspection. His face looked stern and domineering. Sexy. Dangerous. Ivy trembled, passion filli
ng her. She’d give all to this man. His chest was broad, his stomach rippled with muscle that taped down to his hips. His manhood stood at attention, the skin tight, heavy veins snaking down to the head. Ivy licked her lips.
Holt stepped forward, stopping just in front of her, his cock directly in line with her hungry mouth.
Ivy waited, looking up at him, lips parted. Holt Raven absolutely took her breath.
Holt blew out a heavy breath. He placed one hand on top of her head and drew her to him.
Ivy opened her mouth and took him in as far as her throat would allow. He was hot, filling her mouth the way she knew he would fill her pussy. She felt him push a hand against the back of her head. Ivy grasped the base of his cock with one hand and leaned forward, elongating her neck. She stroked the underside of his dick with her tongue, moaning as she traced the ridge of the head with the tip of her tongue. Holt moved his hand to the base of her nape, cupping her head. Then he began to move. Ivy felt the tip of his cock bump the back of her throat as he thrust forward. She fought to relax, not wanting to gag on his girth. His thrusts increased, deeper, faster. Ivy was turned on to the max by him fucking her mouth, feeling the pulse of his thick, hard cock sliding over her tongue. She closed her eyes and gave herself over to the sense of his power and his control.
He began to grow even larger, his dick twitching. Holt’s breathing sounded like a bull, ready to charge.
He pulled out of her mouth and caught her under her arms, lifting her off the bed as if she were nothing. He carried her toward a large, leather easy chair in the corner of the bedroom.
Setting her down on her feet, he moved around her and grabbed the chair. With one shove, he turned the chair around so that the back of the chair faced her. Ivy’s brows drew together. What was he up to?
Holt slid in behind her, picked her up by the waist and draped her face forward over the back of the chair. Ivy’s head hung down toward the seat cushion. She planted one hand on each of the arms of the chair to brace herself. Wriggling her toes, she realized her feet couldn’t touch the floor. “Holt?” A new tingling shot through her when he grasped the cheeks of her ass with both hands and began to knead them. His touch was rough but not unpleasant. Ivy felt her juices begin to flow anew.
Holt the Interceptor Page 13