by Kallysten
"Last chance to change your mind,” she told him, walking backwards toward the hidden entrance to her bedroom. “If you follow me now, you lose the right to be scared."
He blinked when she slipped past the charm and disappeared from his view. She remained there for a second, just long enough to see him try to walk, realize he wouldn't manage to with his pants down his knees and pull them up. Confident that he would lose no time to join her, she rid herself of her clothes and laid on the bed to wait for him. He didn't disappoint her.
For several long and delightful hours, he didn't disappoint her.
* * * *
Fucking with Lilia was every bit as glorious as Vincent remembered. More, even.
He had not thought it would happen ever again, he had certainly not intended to let it happen, but now that it had, now that they had spent half a day and the best part of a night fucking and taking catnaps in each other's arms, he couldn't really regret it. Not when it had appeased that deep-seated longing that had been plaguing him for months, and made his recollections of their Mating night pale in comparison.
Even now, as he was finally catching his breath again, his body still trembled against hers from the pleasure they had drawn out of each other, and burning, erotic flashes of their day kept running through his mind. Their first time, back then under the spell, had been beautiful but short; their second time had been just as strong, just as magnificent, but the way it had ended with shock and incredulity had somewhat marred the memory. Today ... they had caught up on lost time, and many praises were given for vampire stamina and the recovery speed of young, horny, sex-deprived humans.
With the way she was draped over his body, Vincent's lips were millimeters from Lilia's neck and the mark he had left there while under Don's butchered spell. Since they had started working together, she had been touching the mark on his neck whenever she pleased, and she had kissed, licked and nibbled it every time she had been able to in the last few hours. But until now Vincent had never returned the gesture. He had always felt too self-conscious to touch her when they patrolled, and for a reason he couldn't explain he hadn't dared do it as they fucked. Because it reminded him too much of their Mating, maybe?
Now though, as he observed the silvery circle, just a shade paler than her skin tone in the light of the candles, he couldn't think of anything else than touching it. Hesitantly, he leaned up until his mouth met her skin, and flicked his tongue across the scar. She shuddered above him. Pleased with the result, he did it again, and this time, she moaned his name. Emboldened by her reaction, he latched on to her neck and sucked hard. One of Lilia's hand's came to the back of his head and held him where he was even as she rolled their bodies so that he was above her and, with one snap of her hips and a clever touch of her hand, guided him inside her again.
As his thrusting settled into a slower pace, Vincent could feel Lilia's body trembling against his, letting him know exactly how deeply he was affecting her. He couldn't help the surge of pride he felt at that realization, and his body burned even hotter wherever her hands touched him, stroked him, urging him on. Following instincts he had so far tried to repress, he thrust inside her, deep and hard, at the same time as he bit down on her neck until he drew blood. Lilia howled and arched under him, pulling him closer, deeper with arms and legs and taking him with her into the abyss when the orgasm shook her body.
And when she fell—when they did—Vincent was so shocked by the words she uttered that for a while he thought he had heard her wrong. It couldn't be, it simply couldn't. He was imagining things. Yet, before falling asleep against him, she said it again—"love you so fucking much"—and there were no longer any doubts. Rather, there was this startling realization.
For Lilia, it hadn't just been a fuck. All the while, she had been making love to him, with the same intensity she had given to the act the night they had Mated. Now that he knew, Vincent couldn't believe he had ever thought otherwise.
* * * *
Lilia had not expected that Jordan would stay so long, but she definitely wasn't complaining. She had no delusions about what all of this meant to him, and she had refused herself the luxury of hope. To take what he was offering, enjoy every second of their time together and not wonder if there would be a repeat of their sexcapades seemed like the wisest thing to do.
When she came back to her senses and cracked an eye open, he was only inches from her, lying on his side, temple resting against his closed fist, looking at her with an intensity that troubled Lilia.
"If you keep looking at me like that,” she yawned, “I'm going to start wondering where your stake is. You're not having second thoughts, are you? ‘Cause it was too fucking good for that."
His only reaction was a slow blink, and Lilia's lips twitched at the incongruous thought that her zeal in making him come as many times as possible may have burned out too many of his brain cells. Before she could crack a joke however, he finally spoke.
"Why didn't you tell me you're in love with me?"
The smile died on her lips and she was sure that, had she had a pulse, her heart would have stopped beating.
"In love with you?” she repeated, forcing a chuckle into her voice. “Just because we scratched a mutual itch doesn't mean I..."
"You love me,” he cut in, quiet but determined. “You said so. Twice. Are you going to deny it now?"
Had she really said it, Lilia wondered as she watched Vincent sit up and reach for the pack of cigarettes he had put on the nightstand. She honestly didn't remember, but she had always talked too much during sex. It was entirely possible. And mortifying. This was not the way she would have chosen to tell him. Not that she had planned to tell him in the first place.
"Pillow talk, lover,” she said as she sat up next to him and leaned back against the headboard, keeping her eyes on the cigarettes pack Vincent was toying with. “Nothing more."
His hands stilled and one of them came up; with a finger under her chin, he forced her to look at him.
"I think you were more honest then than you're being now,” he declared, his tone almost daring her to say otherwise.
Lilia remained silent. She could have kept denying it, of course, but something told her that he wouldn't change his mind about what he had heard. Not only that, but she also felt somewhat relieved to have her feelings out in the open. Months of pretending, first to herself and then to him, that it was nothing more than their Mating claim that drew her to Vincent had left her wary of any word, any action that might have given her away. The only gesture she allowed herself was the touch to his neck, simply because he denied that it affected him in any way. At least, since he knew, she didn't need to keep pretending anymore.
But that still didn't answer her fear, the one thing that had kept her from speaking up ever since she had realized that she loved him—she, Lilia, was in love with a mortal ... where was a stake when you needed one?
How would he react? What would he say, now that he knew? Would he put an end to their working gigs? Maybe. Would he stake her and be done with her at last? No, he couldn't do that; he would condemn himself if he did. Would he ... No, he definitely wasn't going to reciprocate the words. He would have done so already if he had had any inclination toward it. Instead, he was immobile and quiet on her bed, his hand now cupping her chin. She risked eye contact again, and her look seemed to startle him.
"I ... I should go home,” he stuttered, dropping his hand. “A new client might call, I can't afford to miss it."
Slowly, Lilia nodded. After all, this was what she had thought he would do, run from her when the realization hit of what he had done. But when he still didn't move, she tilted her head to one side and raised a questioning eyebrow at him.
"Going home might require moving, Jordan. Unless Don has taught you how to teleport? That'd be a nice trick."
A slight blush crept into his cheeks and he drew back from her to stand. Lilia watched him as he picked up his clothes and slid them on, babbling all the while about what a
good idea the hidden part of her home was. He wasn't rushing as she had imagined he would, but his heart was beating so fast that, had it been anyone else, Lilia would have been convinced he was about to have a heart attack. He wasn't doing anything she could have predicted and she was utterly confused.
"So, that's it?” she asked, baffled, when, fully clothed, he made for the door. “You're just going to leave like that without another word after..."
After we slept together. After I told you. She wasn't sure which one to say, and so didn't finish her question.
He stilled and she counted three seconds before he looked back at her. “What am I supposed to do, Lilia? What am I even supposed to say?"
She struggled to keep her voice even. “Not my decision to make. But something would be good right about now. Anything would be better than indifference."
"I'm not...” he began heatedly, but cut himself off and took a deep breath before starting again, more calmly now. “I didn't come here with those kinds of feelings for you. I think you know that. And I never imagined you felt anything like that..."
She bit her tongue to keep herself from talking before he was finished, and watched as his hand rose and came to rub at the silver scars on his neck.
"I'd be lying if I said these words to you now. And I have no clue where that leaves us."
There was a question in his eyes; she tried to answer it the best she knew how. He obviously wasn't ready or willing to go any further, and he wasn't hinting he wanted to go back either...
"Want me to come by at eight tomorrow night?” She belatedly realized it was close to sunrise. “Or rather, tonight?"
He shook his head; and for an instant, she thought she had misread his signals. But then he said: “Nine. I'll need to run some errands before going out to hunt."
She didn't push her luck by asking if she could join the errand fun; instead, she simply nodded. He stepped toward the entrance that would bring him back to the front room of her mausoleum, but turned one last time before walking through, giving her a lopsided smile as he said:
"And it's Vincent, Lilia. Try to remember it."
Lilia wasn't too sure what had just happened. But as she rolled over to find the warm spot Jordan ... no, Vincent had left in her bed, her lips curled in a true smile. He hadn't declared his undying love to her, but he hadn't dusted her either. And unless she was completely off her mark, he might just have given her a ‘maybe'. Grinning, she brought a hand to her neck and absently touched the Mating scar that had started it all while her other hand slid between her legs.
Chapter 10
When Lilia went to find Vincent at nine as promised, she had a nagging suspicion that he would have changed his mind about continuing his patrols with her. She had thought about him all day long, about what they had done and said, and if she knew him at all, he had done the same. She couldn't imagine that this much thinking wouldn't change a thing for him. For them.
He had fallen into bed with her out of lust and, more or less directly, the Mating claim, nothing else; she had no delusions about that. Now that he had had time to think about it ... The question was, would he simply ignore her or demand that she leave town.
She was a little surprised, and disappointed, when she got to his townhouse, to find Don's van parked in the street and to hear extra voices coming from the living room through the open window. She clearly recognized Don's voice, but there was also a third one, another man who sounded older.
Was it reinforcements to stake her, or moral support to shove her out of his life for good?
She almost turned back. Public humiliation was definitely not her thing, and if he wanted to dump her, they didn't need witnesses. However, as she hesitated about leaving, Vincent appeared at the window, looking out.
"...have to, Dad,” he was saying. “It's my job, and...” He paused briefly as his gaze fell on Lilia, and she could see him tense slightly when she took an involuntary step forward. She stopped at the small shake of his head, wondering what was going on. “...even if you don't approve I still have to go."
"Honestly, Vincent,” the older voice drifted from inside, “I don't understand you. This won't bring back your mother, and there are so many other things you could be doing."
Vincent had moved from the window, and Lilia curiously observed the other man in the background, too far from the window for him to be able to see her. Vincent's father? And what was he saying about his mother?
"And yet this is what I do,” an exasperated voice responded. “Don't wait up for me, I'll be home late."
The door opened at last and Jordan stepped out, his eyes immediately finding Lilia's. He smiled at her as he pulled out his cigarettes and lit one, and she smiled back, thinking of nothing except getting closer to him and kissing him senseless. Then, to her dismay, he turned back to look inside.
"Coming, Don?"
* * * *
There was no mistaking Lilia's disappointment when Don tagged along for patrol, but there wasn't much Vincent could do or say. He just couldn't see himself begging off to his friend by explaining that he and Lilia were in need of an evening-after discussion. Don had been asking for a couple of weeks to come along and test his new fire spell, the first time in years that he had been excited about magic, and when he had asked again in front of Vincent's father the opportunity had been too good to pass.
His father hated what Vincent did for a living, and one of his main gripes was that he didn't have a partner; taking Don along for the night had proved that he did not work alone. It would have been easier to simply tell him about Lilia, but that would have raised questions with much more complicated answers
Therefore, they patrolled with Don ready to try his spell at the first occasion. Lilia seemed to pout for a while, before falling into a sullen silence. And for some strange reason that defied his understanding, Vincent felt a little guilty about the situation. Guilty yet at the same time ... relieved. What would he have told Lilia, if they had been able to talk? He had thought of her, of her feelings, of them, all day, and he was still nowhere close to comprehending what was going on.
One thing was clear. Their Mating, which he had denied for so long as having meant anything, was clearly affecting him. It had to be the reason why he had never staked her. Why, also, he felt comfortable in her presence—and Heaven knew he shouldn't have. He had not forgotten she was a vampire, had not forgotten everything she was infamous for, nor the many fights they had had as adversaries before becoming allies. He had not forgotten she had killed Peter. No, he had no delusions about who or what she was. But he had no qualms either about patrolling with her. About being friends with her. About having slept with her. About wanting to do it again.
And all of it ... It had to be the claim.
* * * *
Lilia howled when Vincent's teeth sank into her neck hard enough to break the skin, in surprise, pain, and pleasure.
The patrol had been remarkably tedious, with Don accompanying them, and Lilia had begged off as they walked near her mausoleum, pretending that she had errands to run. Having the wizard around was hardly her idea of an interesting time with Vincent, and it had been clear that he wouldn't say a word unless they were alone. She had settled on her bed in front of the television with a glass of bourbon and waited. And hoped.
He hadn't disappointed and had come to her. He had seemed jittery, as he had sat on the edge of the bed, far enough from her that they weren't touching. Then, after a few words reminding her that he didn't feel the same way she did and that he was only there because of the pull their Mating had on him, he had practically jumped on her.
They had made out on the bed like two horny teenagers—although Lilia had never done anything remotely like this as a teenager. Quite surprisingly, no clothes had come off, but buttons had been undone and hands had reached inside pants and shirts, stroked and pinched and rubbed and...
Then he had bitten her.
Taken by surprise, Lilia could do nothing but let the pleasure wa
sh over her. Horny teenager, indeed. He had caressed her breast and flicked her clit a few times, but the bite itself was what had set her off. And she couldn't wait for him to do it again.
He had a satisfied little grin on his face as he pulled away slightly, his fingers still stroking her clit and folds but now with a feather touch.
"Love that face you make when you come,” he murmured before he touched his lips to hers.
"Love when you say the word love,” she mumbled back.
He stilled completely, and resisted her efforts to pull him closer to her.
"I told you I don't...” he started, and cut himself off. “I mean, doing this doesn't change anything, I..."
Leaning toward him, she pressed her mouth against his and lazily ran her tongue to the seal of his lips, pulling back just as he was opening to her.
"I know,” she said. “Heard you the first time around. Not pretending anything changed."
"So you ... you don't mind?"
He looked anxious as he said that, as though it really mattered to him what she thought ... Gods, but she wanted him inside her. Now.
"I'll take whatever you want to share with me. If it's only your body...” her eyes trailed down to his crotch; the fastenings of his jeans were undone and his cock was out, hard and needy. She licked her lips, and it gave a twitch. “Definitely not complaining."
With that, she reached for his lovely dick that was so hard for her with one hand and pulled and tugged his pants down with the other until he finally took the hint and helped her undress the both of them.
* * * *
You are beautiful.
The three simple words burned Vincent's lips as the final item of Lilia's clothing, black satin underwear that had left very little to his imagination, finally fell to the floor, discarded by his own hands, leaving her to lay nude and glorious inches from where he was kneeling next to her on the bed. Hands thrown back above her head, she smiled at him, one of these devious smiles of hers that made his blood boil and his cock demand to be touched, preferably by her.