In the Company of Vampires do-9

by Katie MacAlister

  “You have to tell me what you like,” Ben said somewhat indistinctly as he nipped the sensitive skin of my inner thighs.

  “That! I like that!”

  “So the swirl gets a thumbs-up. And what about this?”

  “Oh, it’s good, too,” I moaned as my hips moved in a restless rhythm in response to the dance his fingers were doing.

  “Hmm. Does this do anything for you?”

  I tightened my legs around his head when his fingers sank into me as his tongue swirled across aroused flesh. “Flurg!”

  He smiled into my mind. I thought that might give you pleasure.

  Everything you do gives me pleasure, Ben, but please, please, finish it! I feel like I’m about to explode into a million bits of sexual ecstasy.

  If you feel like that now, wait until I really get going, he promised, sliding up my body, bringing my legs with him until they rested on his arms.

  “Um, Ben. This is . . . I mean, I’m kind of exposed,” I said, feeling both vulnerable and yet at the same time desperate to have him where I wanted him most.

  “Yes, I know. You’re at my mercy. Like the feeling?”

  “Imogen told me that you were naturally dominant. I didn’t understand quite why she said that, but I guess now I know what she—Ben!”

  He leaned forward to capture my gasp as he slid into my body with a movement that left me breathless.

  It’s a good thing I’m double-jointed, or I don’t think this would be at all comfortable, I said, mentally moaning at the sensation of him moving within me. The difference between you and my toys is . . . well, indescribable!

  “I begin to think I’m doing this wrong,” he said, releasing my lower lip from where he had been sucking on it. His hips flexed, and this time my eyes did cross as he released my legs. I wrapped them around his hips and arched up against him.

  I scraped my nails down his spine, enjoying the sensations he was mentally feeding me. I could feel his arousal building, which just fired mine to new heights. “I can’t imagine that what you’re doing is anything but absolutely perfect. Particularly that.”

  He gave another hard little thrust that had me digging my fingers into the thick muscles of his behind, trying to pull him in deeper. “If I was doing it correctly, you shouldn’t be able to talk at all, let alone think.”

  I started to laugh. I couldn’t help myself, it was just so funny that in the middle of all that thrusting and heaving and wet, slick noises that were slightly embarrassing since I knew they had their source with me, in all of the passion that wrapped us in its fire, he thought he wasn’t doing it right.

  I kissed him, savoring both the taste and feel of him as our bodies moved together in a rhythm that seemed wholly unique to us. I wanted to say something profound, something that would tell him what this moment meant to me, but all that came out was a plea. Feed from me, Ben. I can feel your hunger. I’m offering my blood willingly. I want you to take it from me.

  His mouth moved to my neck and down to my shoulder, trailing burning kisses in its wake. I had spoken the truth—the desire to feed swamped him, filling his mind with a need that claimed me as well.

  He licked a spot on my shoulder, his teeth scraping as he fought a war between need and self-control. I couldn’t stand it, couldn’t resist any more of the sensations of pleasure he was pouring into my mind. My body tightened around him as I was sent spiraling into a moment of pure, unadulterated rapture. Ben groaned, arching back to yell something in a language I didn’t understand, his hips making a couple of short, fast thrusts before he collapsed down onto me.

  I welcomed the weight of him, my breathing as ragged and rough as his. I held him tight as our hearts beat wildly, slowly calming until some minutes later, when Ben roused himself with a murmur about crushing me.

  “Not in the least,” I told him as he rolled over onto his back, pulling me flush against his side. I was glad he did—I felt as boneless as a newborn baby.

  Ben suddenly cracked an eye open. “Are you taking some sort of—”

  “Yes,” I answered, reading the question he was about to ask.

  “Good. Not that I wouldn’t have taken care of you if you weren’t, but it’s just easier this way. I assume you do not wish to have children yet.”

  “Not yet, no.”

  “I find it interesting that you are not seeing any men, did not wish to see me, and yet you are utilizing birth control.”

  “Are you implying I expected to have sex with you?” I asked, wanting to be annoyed, but as I’ve mentioned before, Inner Fran doesn’t let me lie to myself very often.

  He closed his eye again, his arm tightening around me until I was lying halfway on his body. “I would never presume anything so clearly out of the bounds of possibility.”

  I giggled into his damp chest, wanting to say something, but hesitant to ruin the lovely postcoital afterglow. “I’m sorry, Ben,” I finally said.

  “You’re sorry you ever doubted I could bring you more pleasure than your toys?” he asked, his eyes still closed, but his fingers making lazy circles on my behind.

  “No. Well, yes, although I think we both know that was never really in doubt.” I snuggled into him, cherishing the sensations of my body plastered against his.

  His eyes opened again. They held a certain sated look that made me feel extremely smug. Just let Naomi try to bring that look to his eyes, I thought cattily to myself.

  “What is it? Why do you look so pleased with yourself, but there is apology in your mind? Did you wish to Join now?”

  “No. I enjoyed this. I still am enjoying it. I think it brings our relationship to a new level of intimacy, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to sign away my life to you. I think we need to explore what it means to be us more, before either of us makes a decision.”

  He just looked at me, his eyes lightening as I spoke.

  “What I meant is that I’m sorry that I asked you to feed off of me. It wasn’t very nice of me to try to tempt you when you explained why you didn’t want to take what I offered.”

  He sighed, a gesture that came from the depths of his being. “Francesca, there is nothing in this world that I want more than to conduct all the steps of Joining with you, including feeding from you. But you yourself set bounds, and I am trying to keep within them as best I can, and do my duty by David.”

  I was silent for a moment, stroking the thick line of his pectoral muscle. “I didn’t set bounds to harm you, you know,” I said finally. “Now that we’ve done this, are you going to be okay with them?”

  “If it will make you happy, yes.”

  “Good. I imagine it’s a lot harder for you than it is for me.”

  He grinned. It was a wicked grin, one that melted me. “It’ll be hard for you again if you give me a little time to recover from your lusty demands.”

  I pinched his nipple. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it, Mr. Mind Reader. It was hard for me to feel the need inside you, and not want to give you what you wanted.”

  He rolled onto his side, both arms around me as he kissed my eyes. “I promised to not ask you for more than you can give, and I appreciate that you have done the same for me.”

  An echo followed those words, so faint I wasn’t sure I caught it. You’re mine. I could ask for nothing more.

  I kept my thoughts from him as he pulled up the blankets and settled me so I was more or less tucked under him, one of his heavy legs thrown over mine in a manner that left me feeling protected. Ben might not want to ask for anything more, but I could. The question was, did I want to?

  Chapter 12

  Some nine hours later I stared at a little beam of sunlight that had penetrated the blinds, falling with golden cheer onto the spot on the bed next to me. I leaned forward, unable to keep from sniffing the sunshine. It smelled like Ben. My toes curled happily.

  Are you still awake? I asked softly, just in case he had gone to sleep. He’d woken me up a short time before to tell me he was returning to Naomi’s
trailer before the sun came fully up.

  Yes. You’re not still angry with me?

  No. I was for a bit when you insisted you had to go back to Naomi, but I understand, Ben, I really do. I’m sorry I called you a ratty pustule on the buttocks of a slug.

  Your apology is accepted.

  And I’m sorry I threw that fire extinguisher at you. You’re sure the lump on your forehead has gone down?

  Yes. You have remarkably good aim considering the bulkiness of the weapon you wielded.

  And I much regret telling you I never wanted to see you again, and that you could rot in the scummiest part of the underworld, eaten by plagued rats and cockroaches. I didn’t mean that.

  I know you didn’t. For which I am truly thankful.

  I do miss you, though.

  I miss you too, love.

  I smiled at the word. Oh, I knew full well it was used as a term of endearment and not a declaration of his emotions, but it still made me feel cherished. You sound kind of distracted. What are you doing?

  Waiting for Naomi to finish ranting at me so I can take a shower and go to bed.

  She’s yelling? I smiled with satisfaction. Because you were out with me all night?

  I didn’t tell her I was with you. I told her I was confused and conflicted by your presence. She just threatened to have you turned into a water vole.

  I hope you discouraged that.

  I haven’t had the chance to say a word yet. She’s too busy screaming at me.

  Poor little Ben, I said with mock sympathy. Left one pissed-off girlfriend, only to find your other girlfriend is just as angry. I feel for you.

  She’s not my girlfriend, and that statement would carry a little more weight if you weren’t thinking all sorts of smug thoughts about me getting my just deserts. Ah, at last.

  At last?

  She stormed off to go into town to pick up breakfast. Now I can have a shower and try to get some sleep before she returns to harangue me again.

  I sat up straight in bed. You’re going to take a shower? Right now?

  Yes.

  I almost started drooling at the thought. An idea popped into my head, one so audacious I almost couldn’t believe it. I leaped from the bed and snatched up a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt.

  Why do you ask? Did you wish for me to touch myself again and allow you to see? He flooded my head with the sensations he was feeling as he stepped into the small shower in Naomi’s trailer. Warm water cascaded down his naked self, his hands running down his chest and belly until he was cupping himself.

  I was out of the trailer and across the common area before he could do more than ask, Did you want me to do this?

  I moaned under my breath as he swirled soap around his chest.

  “Good morning, Fran. Isn’t it a lovely day?” Tallulah’s voice wormed its way into the dense haze of lust that filled my mind at the feeling of Ben stroking his wet, soapy chest, bringing me to a halt. I whimpered.

  “What was that, dear?” she frowned at me.

  “Ben. Shower. Soap,” I said, somewhat desperately.

  “Ben needs soap? How very odd.”

  “No. He’s in the shower. Right now.” I clutched Tallulah’s arms as Ben soaped up his rear. “Oh dear goddess. He’s all wet. Completely and utterly wet!”

  “One generally gets that way in the shower.”

  Do you wish it was your fingers touching me? Ben asked as he stroked soap onto his long legs.

  “Calf muscles,” I gasped, whimpering once again. “Thighs!”

  She looked at me oddly for a moment, then gave a quick nod. “Yes, I see. Go to him, my dear. I believe you have made the right choice.”

  “Slick, soapy chest!” I babbled and then realized she’d given me her blessing. I grinned and ran to Naomi’s door, opening it cautiously to make sure she really had left.

  The room was empty, but the sound of running water had me stripping off my clothing and hurrying to the narrow door that led to the tiny shower.

  Or perhaps you wish for me to do this? His fingers wrapped around his penis, partially erect, and growing more interested in every passing moment.

  I’d rather you let me do that, I told him.

  I’d rather you would, as well, but since you can’t—

  I jerked open the shower door, the warm mistiness of the environment enveloping me as Ben, startled, spun around to face me. “Oh, I think I can.”

  “What the hell are you doing here?” He gave a surprised jerk, his dark hair slicked back from his forehead, warm water and steam cascading around him. “Naomi could be back at any minute.”

  The shower wasn’t large, but it was big enough for the two of us. Barely.

  “I know. I figure it takes at least fifteen minutes to get to town and back.” Joining him in the shower pretty much meant I was smashed up against him, a fact I wasn’t going to protest at all. I closed the shower door, avoided hitting the showerhead, and wrapped my arms around the slippery, soapy Ben.

  “This is not at all wise,” he started to say, but I stopped him by kissing him, and rubbing my demanding breasts against his chest. “Naomi—”

  “—isn’t here, and I am, and we have fifteen minutes, so let’s make the most of it. Are you a dirty boy? Do I need to soap you up?”

  Ben frowned, annoyance and passion mingling in his eyes, which were darkening with each passing second. “I am not dirty, nor a boy—” He stiffened when I slid my hands from his chest to his penis. “Perhaps I am a little dirty. Would you like some soap?”

  “Oh, yes,” I purred, accepting the sea sponge that was lathered with a spicy-scented soap. With my back to the showerhead, I blocked most of the water, which allowed me to swirl the sponge down his chest and belly, to his groin. Although I wouldn’t have minded soaping all of him up, I was conscious of the need to be quick, and went straight for pay dirt. So to speak.

  Ben splayed against the back of the shower, his eyes closed as I lathered him up, spreading my fingers through the slick hair, exploring the length of his quickly growing penis and accompanying scenery. He groaned as I found a tempo that pleased him, his hips making little thrusts, sending his slippery length through my hands.

  “This is so much better than you doing it,” I said, water cascading down me. I watched him move in my grasp, gently rubbing the underside, as I understood men liked. “I’ve wanted to do this ever since you let me see you the first time.”

  Ben said something in another language, then gave a little head shake and returned to English. “That’s an understatement. You said you’re double-jointed?”

  “Yes.” I was fascinated by the feel and sight of his arousal, wanting to touch it in all sorts of ways, wanting to stroke and lick and kiss all the rest of him, too. Confined in a small space as we were, however, I would have to content myself with just indulging in some tactile pleasure.

  “Good. Put your arms around my shoulders.”

  “Huh?” I looked up. “You don’t want me to give you a soapy hand job?”

  “Oh, I do, but I think if we’re fast, there’s time for more.”

  “More? You don’t mean—”

  He bent slightly, grasping me around the waist and hoisting me up. “Legs around mine,” he said, slipping his hands down to my butt to pull me up a little higher before pressing me against the wall.

  “Sun and stars, Ben! You don’t mean—hoo!” He lunged forward, his penis sliding along my private parts. “In the shower? Standing? Oh, you missed, just a smidgen to the left. Merciful goddess, I didn’t know we could do this. Am I too heavy for you? Am I hurting you? Should I maybe put one leg down to take some of my weight off your back? No, you missed again, a little higher, I think. Oh! No, not quite. Close but no banana.”

  “Francesca,” Ben said through what seemed to be gritted teeth as he lunged somewhat wildly now, his aim, given the fact that we were now both soapy and wet, not as good as could be hoped for.

  “What?”

  “Too much talking
, not enough helping me.”

  “Oh.” I could help? I released one arm from where I’d been clutching his shoulders. He moved his hips back slightly so I could snake my hand down between us, positioning him where he would be assured success. “Sorry. I’m new to this.”

  “Believe me, I’m well aware of that,” he said, groaning again as he sank into my welcoming flesh. “And no, not because you’re doing it wrong. You’re very tight, Francesca. So tight it makes my head spin. No, don’t try to help. Just tilt your hips up slightly . . . Ahhh.”

  It was my turn to moan in pleasure as our bodies moved together despite the awkward position and confined space (and my concern that holding me up would give Ben a hernia).

  “Dark Ones . . . don’t get . . . hernias . . . ,” he grunted, his voice and breath rasping in my ear as I gave myself up to the pleasure of his warm, wet body sliding against and inside mine. I felt the need in him for more, to take blood from me, to join us together in a way unique to his kind, and for a moment, I thought about just doing it.

  His mouth burned on my wet shoulder.

  If you want to—I started to say.

  To do so would mean we were Joined forever. He turned his head, his jaw tightening as he leashed the almost overwhelming urge to drink from me. I will not force it upon you.

  Inner Fran pointed out that there wasn’t any force involved, but I said nothing, just gasped out his name as my climax claimed me.

  “That may have been fast, but it will remain in my memories as a high point of my sexual experience,” I said a few minutes later, as Ben let my legs go, his chest heaving against mine, the water, now tepid and heading for cold, pouring over us both. The need for him to feed from me still rode him hot and hard, but he controlled it with a desperation that touched me deeply.

  He kissed me. “I think it’s safe to say there will be many others to join that one.” He turned off the water, which was now starting to get uncomfortably cold. “We must get you dressed quickly. I will take you back to your mother’s—”

  The shower vibrated with the noise and force of the trailer door banging. I widened my eyes as Ben swore.