Dalton, Tymber - Brimstone Blues [Brimstone Vampires 2] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Tymber Dalton

  Reclaim her.

  She now understood what Rafe tried to tell her, that she needed a living man in her bed. She closed her eyes and pressed herself against Matthias, enjoying the feel of his body against hers.

  Rafe was right. As much as she loved Rafe and wanted to be with him, she could never really have him. Not anymore. She needed to stop clinging to a path that never could be and focus on the life ahead of her. She had to find a way to build her future with Matthias.

  “So I caught you,” Matthias whispered, kissing her. “You said you’re my prize.” He nuzzled her neck, under her ear. She felt slightly dizzy from the sensation. “Now what should I do?”

  She gasped, arching her back and pressing against him. “Whatever you want.”

  He hesitated, as if expecting a different response. He realized she was serious and kissed her again. She raised her head and kissed him back, hard. He sat up, and she kept her hands where they were, above her head, as he unbuttoned his slacks. He fixed her eyes with his, watching her.

  She didn’t move.

  He stood, shimmied out of his pants, and knelt over her again. He trailed kisses from the hollow of her throat, between her breasts, to her navel. Then he nipped her belly, sending white-hot fires straight to her already throbbing clit. She gasped but didn’t move.

  His voice dropped to a deep, hoarse, sensual growl. “Whatever I want?”

  She nodded.

  He resumed his position on top of her, his weight on his elbows now as he laced his fingers through hers over her head, holding her in place. She spread her legs, and he teased her with his cock, gently probing the entrance to her pussy but not thrusting into her yet.

  Taz closed her eyes and tipped her head to the side, kissing his arm, rolling her hips against him in encouragement.

  His mouth closed first around one nipple, then the other, teasing her even more, his tongue flicking against her, drawing low moans from her.

  “On second thought,” he murmured, “maybe I’m not in a hurry.” She softly groaned and he laughed, bending his head to her breasts again.

  “Please,” she gasped.

  “Please what?”

  He was going to make her beg for it. He was in a playful mood, and she didn’t mind. “Please take me, make love to me,” she finally whispered.

  He smiled, kissing her. “Oh, I’m going to do that, my dear.” He nuzzled her neck again, and she tilted her head to give him better access, part of her hoping he’d bite her, but he didn’t. “I’m going to do that to you. All. Night. Long.” She shivered, trying to press against him.

  * * * *

  Matthias never expected her to be this way, to give herself to him like this, willing to let him take the lead, give him total control.

  He sat up and gently rolled her onto her stomach. With her arms still over her head he ran his hands along her back, brushing her hair out of his way and kissing the nape of her neck.

  She shivered. He worked his way south, massaging and kissing her, and when he got to her hips, he grabbed one of the pillows and deftly slid it under her. She started to lift her head to look, and he kissed her.

  “No, you said you’re mine,” he whispered, and she shivered again, closing her eyes and relaxing.

  He gently spread her legs and reached under her. She moaned into the mattress. As he stroked her pussy with his fingers, she gyrated her hips against his hand. He teased her, not letting her climax, bringing her close several times as he rubbed her swollen clit. Then he slipped a finger inside her, and she pushed against him, wanting more. He put two, then three fingers in her, and she moaned louder, thrusting against him, begging him for release. She was more than ready, her juices flowing freely and he could barely contain himself. He pulled her hips up and gently placed a hand on her back when she started to rise. She relaxed against the bed, and he lined the head of his cock up with her wet pussy.

  “Do you want it?”

  “Yes!” she gasped.

  He thrust his cock deep into her, slowly, knowing she was more open to him this way, not wanting to hurt her.

  She moaned again, and he had to stop for a moment or lose himself. Then he curled an arm around her, stroked her, and she exploded around him. It took all his will not to move. When he sensed she was finished, he grabbed her hips and slowly thrust, bringing more passionate cries from her.

  He took his time. She pushed against him, meeting every thrust, and finally he couldn’t hold it anymore and increased his pace, collapsing on her as he climaxed. After a few minutes he got his breath back. He wrapped his arms around her, rolling to his side and taking her with him, their bodies spooned together.

  “You are amazing,” he whispered in her ear.

  She stroked his arm. “Not so bad yourself, mister.”

  “Don’t you mean ‘Master?’”

  She looked at him, spied his playful, teasing smile, and kissed him. “Only if we take turns.”

  “You better believe it.” He kissed her back. “You’d look gorgeous dressed like a dominatrix.”

  She laughed. “How come we’ve never role-played like that before? That was incredible.”

  “You’ve never asked.”

  “What else would you like to try?”

  “We’ll pick up a Kama Sutra and see what it says.” He nuzzled her neck, dropping one hand between her legs. She pressed against him, closing her eyes and clutching his other arm. In a few minutes he had her writhing against him, begging him for release.

  He’d meant it when he said all night long. He wanted to give her every reason in the world to want to live, to be with him, including this reason.

  He gently nipped her, not breaking the skin, but it was enough to send her over the edge, and she climaxed again.

  “You know, my name’s not ‘oh God,’” he teased.

  She rolled over, pressing against him, kissing him. “Maybe not, but I’ll get on my knees for you any day.”

  The comment stunned him for a second, then he realized he was really, really ready, and she had positioned herself perfectly. He slid his cock inside her and thrust hard, her legs and arms wrapped around him, her hips meeting every stroke. He buried his face against her neck to muffle his cry as he came.

  * * * *

  Later, he protectively held her, his arms curled around her, feeling some of the barrier against him gone. There were still sections of her mind walled up beyond his touch, but he was okay with that. He felt her heart, her love—something that had been missing for several weeks—opened to him, welcoming him in. If that was as far as he could go for now or ever, he was fine with that.

  Just to know she still loved him.

  “Are we okay?” he asked.

  She kissed him. “Yes, we’re okay. I’m sorry I closed you out.”

  “You scared me.”

  “You didn’t do anything wrong. I was afraid I might hurt you, and I needed time to decompress and deal.”

  He caressed her cheek. “I’d wait forever for you, Taz. You know that.”

  “I love you, Matthias. Just remember, you’ve loved me for years, known what you are for centuries. I’m still trying to reconcile my past, what and who I am, and rebuild my life.” She paused. “You were right about running Rafe’s company. I have so much to do now, it wouldn’t be right.”

  He kissed her fingers. “We’ll find someone to run it who will do a good job. I promise.”

  “Okay.”

  Matthias didn’t push her. He knew how hard that was for her to admit, that she couldn’t do it all, and how emotional it was for her.

  She fell quiet for a long time, and he thought she might have gone to sleep when she spoke again. “I’m sorry about Rafe. I’m sorry you weren’t able to grieve for him because of me.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “It’s okay. He would want me to focus on you.” The truth was, he didn’t want to think about Rafe right now. He knew he needed to go through the process, but for now he was so happy to have Taz back in his arms,
it wasn’t his priority.

  * * * *

  Fortunately, the La Concha had great room service, because they spent three days in bed. Matthias wanted to take her on a tour of the city, but every time he suggested it she coaxed him into her arms.

  Not that he was complaining.

  He sent the jet home and they drove north on US1, taking their time, only making it as far as Islamorada before getting a room. She let him tease her back into bed the next morning, and they spent two days there before continuing their northward journey.

  Taz was changed somehow, Matthias sensed. For the better. He wasn’t about to ask why or how, enjoying having her this way, happy and laughing. It was like a weight had lifted, clichéd, but true. Maybe it was having the Tribunal business over and Caroline and Bartholomew gone for good. Maybe it was finally being able to control her powers and use them constructively under stress. She knew she wasn’t a horrible monster, wasn’t out of control. Perhaps now she could put the events behind her and move forward with living.

  * * * *

  They stopped for dinner in Sarasota before making the final push home. Matthias noticed her watching him across the table, and he smiled.

  “What?”

  She looked at her plate, and he sensed there was something going on behind the barrier she still held in her mind. “I was thinking.”

  He waited, finally encouraging her to continue. “Taz, what is it?”

  She looked at him. “I think I’d like to have the wedding at the house. Would that be okay?”

  It took him a moment to process her request. When he realized it was a good thing he broke out in a wide grin. “We’ll do whatever you want. If you want to rent the Kremlin, I’ll make it happen.”

  “Not necessary. I can’t stand borscht.”

  He laughed, reached across the table, and took her hand. “Taz, I’ll marry you wherever, whenever, however you want. You name the time and place and I’ll be there.”

  * * * *

  Her dad, no surprise, was sitting at the kitchen table, reading the Tampa Trib when they walked in.

  She looked at him. “No, you didn’t.”

  Robertson looked up. “What?”

  “You waited up?”

  He put the paper down. “Taz, when will you learn? Just because you’re an adult doesn’t mean I stop worrying.”

  She hugged him and kissed his cheek. “You’re a good dad. I mean that.”

  He smiled and patted her arm. “You’re a good daughter. When you’re not making us pull our hair out.”

  She looked at Matthias. “You did tell him we were gone, right?”

  Matthias nodded. “But you must admit, dear, you have given us quite a few scares. Not to mention you’ve been rather…distant lately.”

  Taz studied the floor. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m starting to feel better, more steady.” It helps that I finally figured out I’m not crazy.

  Matthias hugged her. “It will keep getting better, Taz. I promise.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Taz curled up on the couch with a bowl of popcorn. This was one of her favorite movies.

  “Bring out ’cha dead. He says he’s not dead.”

  She grinned. Rafael did a great impression. “I didn’t know you were a Monty Python fan.” She had to remember to keep her voice low.

  “It’s just a flesh wound. That rabbit’s dynamite. Who isn’t a fan? You mean there are heathens who don’t appreciate great comedy?”

  She was going to answer him when she heard footsteps and Matthias walked in. “There you are.”

  “Here I am.”

  “Here we are.”

  “Shut up, you,” she thought to Rafael.

  Matthias frowned slightly. Oops, need to tweak the barrier just a hair more. He’d caught a whisper of her thought, fortunately not the whole thing. She hated doing this, but if she didn’t, he would see what was going on.

  How would she explain to Matthias what they’d done? Could she keep her secrets hidden from him? No, Rafael technically never laid a hand on her.

  He just laid her.

  This would be tricky. Fortunately it was a funny movie, so Rafael snarking in her brain and sending her into laughing fits wasn’t unexpected. Taz knew Matthias didn’t have much love for Monty Python, but appreciated he was willing to sit there and watch it with her.

  “But those huge…tracts of land.”

  Taz choked on a piece of popcorn, and Matthias handed her a bottle of water.

  “Are you all right?”

  She nodded, laughing and choking at the same time. She took a drink, finally dislodged the popcorn. “I’ll live.”

  “Need to learn about swallows, Taz.”

  “Swallowing.”

  “You already know about swallowing, don’t you, baby girl?”

  She choked back another round of laughter. Oh, he was bad. So bad. She could only imagine what movie nights would be like if he was still alive.

  No, don’t need to think along those lines.

  She finally settled down and enjoyed the movie. Matthias didn’t mind her saying lines along with the film, and Rafael chimed in when appropriate with inappropriate comments.

  Well, inappropriate for anyone else. Between the two of them it was quickly becoming normal.

  She even imagined a huge flat-screen TV in the room in her mind for him, so he could sit back and watch the movie, instead of seeing it through the “windows.”

  * * * *

  Tobias found Matthias in the kitchen later that night after Taz had gone to bed. “There you are. I want to have a word with you.”

  Matthias sat back. “This sounds serious.”

  “Not like that. I know I originally planned to leave next week, but I wondered if it would be an imposition if I stayed indefinitely?”

  “Not at all. It would be nice having you around. We have plenty of room here, or you’re welcome to have the guest house.”

  “That won’t be necessary. The room you put me in is fine. I won’t be in the way?”

  “Of course not. I’m sure Taz will be pleased to have you around.”

  Not if she knows why I want to stay.

  * * * *

  Tobias spent plenty of time watching her. She might be sensitive, but her instincts weren’t as finely honed as his. Without centuries of ingrained survival instinct behind her, it was relatively easy for him to study her, unobserved, when she was home and about the house and grounds.

  Many times she seemed to have conversations only she was privy to, smiling and nodding her head, rolling her eyes and gesturing, sometimes laughing out loud.

  Sometimes he heard the piano just to find her sitting there playing, and when she noticed him in the doorway she’d stop and badly fumble an excuse as to why she couldn’t continue.

  He always felt a shifting, the air expanding and contracting around her in these cases, as if something changed.

  Millicent was no help. She knew something, but apparently had been sworn to secrecy. As a member of the Tribunal, Taz could guarantee whatever she asked would be granted in this regard.

  He’d have to watch.

  And wait.

  * * * *

  It was a Monday, and Taz had the house to herself, she thought. When she’d asked Matthias if he minded if she took the day off, he hugged her.

  “I think that’s a great idea. I need to go in to the office for a while.”

  “That’s fine. You were right. I need some time off.”

  He didn’t even think about saying, “I told you so,” and she loved him for it.

  Rafe’s Mustang was overdue for an oil change, something Rafe was religious about. Now she understood the great protest in Yellowstone, and then again at home when she wanted to take it someplace to have it done. This was his baby. He didn’t like anyone else touching it unless absolutely necessary. She drove to the auto parts store, got everything she needed.

  “I use synthetic oil, Taz. That brand there,” he said as her hand ho
vered over the bottles on the rack.

  “How many?”

  “Get eight. Won’t use that many, but I like having extra. There should still be two filters at the house as long as Albert didn’t forget anything. We’ll need to order more.”

  Back at home she laid out the tools, prompted by Rafael, and found a filter. Taz popped the hood.

  “Don’t forget to put a new washer on the drain plug.”

  Alone at home, it was more natural for her to answer him out loud. “I’m perfectly capable of doing this, you know.” She didn’t mind Rafael’s backseat wrenching. It was nice having him to share this with.

  “I want a new washer. I put one on every oil change.”

  “You know it doesn’t need it, right?” she asked, reaching for one.

  “Humor me, baby girl.”

  “All right, got it. See?”

  “Good.”

  She dragged the floor jack over to the car and knelt down.

  “Don’t forget the jack stands.”

  “I know what I’m doing. I’ve done this before.”

  “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

  “I won’t get hurt. Jesus, Rafe, would you relax? It’s an oil change, not an engine overhaul.”

  She was too engrossed in her conversation and activities to notice Tobias walking toward the garage.

  Taz pulled the jack stands into position and got them ready. “There, are you happy?”

  “Good.”

  “Can I jack it up now?”

  “Smart-ass.”

  “You should know. You’ve had your hands on it enough.”

  She enjoyed the sound of his laughter in her mind.

  * * * *

  Tobias heard Taz’s voice in the garage, but it was weird, like she was having a one-sided conversation. He slowed his approach and stopped near the end of the building, out of sight but close enough to hear.

  If he didn’t know any better…

  He thought about the funeral, his recent observations, and walked closer, fascinated and horrified at the same time, knowing for certain his suspicions were correct.