by Kallysten
"No trouble, just a busy night."
Busy was one way to describe it. Hot as hell, probably more accurate. He was getting used to spending time with Lilia, in or out of bed. He was getting used to the idea of falling asleep in her arms, too. And he had a vague feeling that that realization should have alarmed him to some degree.
"If you're that busy,” his father returned to his earlier gripe, “it has to be dangerous. I can't believe that Don is that much of a help, he was never much of an athletic guy..."
"And I told you he does magic for me,” Vincent sighed. “And he's good at it."
When his girlfriend doesn't distract him, he mentally finished.
"Well, I still don't like it. If you really have to do that job, why don't you find a partner again? A real one?” Arms crossed and brow furrowed, Emery was the image of parental disapproval.
They had had this same conversation, or a variation of it, dozens of times since Vincent had announced upon turning eighteen that he intended to go to the academy and train to become a Special Enforcer. The most difficult talk had come after Peter had died; Vincent still had been in shock, and he would had caved to his father's concerns if not for the burning desire to get revenge on Lilia. How things had changed.
This time, Vincent refused to listen. He had made his choice and he would stick to it, however annoying his father could get when he started rambling about his job again. He had trouble suppressing another exasperated sigh, and maybe because of that, maybe because the night had been long despite his catnap, he said something he hadn't meant to reveal.
"I have a partner. A great one, too. She fights almost better than I do. So stop badgering me about it, all right?"
The second he saw his father's eyes widen, Vincent knew he had made a mistake. A big, big mistake.
"So when do I get to meet her?"
"Dad..."
"Why didn't you tell me about her earlier?"
"It wasn't..."
"She's really that good? Is she just your fighting partner or is there more to it? Is she pretty? What's her name? Oh, I get it, now. Busy night, heh? Had fun?"
There were things Vincent had hoped very hard not to ever have to discuss with his father. His sex life was at the top of the list.
"We are not talking about this,” he said forcefully, and strode to the mezzanine staircase.
"Come on now, Vincent..."
"Goodnight, Dad. I trust you remember how to open the futon?"
Mentally and physically exhausted, Vincent let himself fall on the bed face first, but he still heard the warning—or was it a threat?—that came from the first floor.
"I won't leave until I've met her, Vince. So you'd better get used to the idea."
His pillow muffled Vincent's answering groan.
* * * *
A creaking noise as the front door opens. Light footsteps on the staircase. The sound of clothes falling to the floor. Vincent doesn't open his eyes but he smiles when a cool body glides next to his into the bed. His own naked flesh recognizes his Mate all too easily, and he finds his place against her, where he can have access to her neck, and she to his. He finds his mark and teases it with the tip of his tongue, enjoying the way Lilia responds to him, practically squirming against him. One of his hands plays down her body and to the apex of her legs, already wet, already ready for him.
"Vincent,” she moans, and he shushes her with a kiss.
"Shh ... my turn to make you feel good, ‘K?"
With that, he pushes her onto her back and starts exploring the curves of her body with his mouth, still teasing her folds and clit with light fingers. Her nipples harden at the first touch of his tongue; and he continues to lavish them with attention, going from one to the other, alternating kisses as soft as her skin, and light bites that draw breathy moans out of her.
He couldn't explain this sudden desire to be the one taking care of her needs to the exclusion of his own, except for the realization he had earlier that she seemed more attentive to his pleasure than to her own. Attentive to more than that, too, as she reminded him he had other obligations and needed to return home. He feels a little guilty about all of that, at enjoying her attentions when he knows her feelings run deeper than his own do. So, he tries to give back.
When she is quaking with need under his touch, he finally allows her to guide him between her legs and inside her. Every time they are joined, he marvels for a second at how perfectly whole he feels; it's not something he has ever felt before, not with any other woman, and if he allowed himself to think about it for any longer than a second, he would probably become scared.
Slowly at first, and gradually faster, he thrusts into her, angling his hips to find that perfect spot that will have Lilia close her eyes tight and bite her bottom lip. Her legs have come up to encircle him, her hands are at his shoulders, nails digging in his skin as perfect pinpricks of pleasure. She moves with him, her rhythm flawlessly attuned to his, and he doesn't care that she has forgotten his request to let him do it all for her, not when she's obviously so close and trying to take him along in her orgasm. They come together; they always do.
As he rests against her body and feels her arms closing tightly around him, Vincent knows she is going to say it again, and he holds his breath, waiting for the whisper that soon rises in the darkness.
"Love you."
He wishes he could say the words back, and make her feel as good, as warm as he now feels. But he can't. He can offer something else though. He rolls their bodies so that she is above him and tilts his head to the side, offering Lilia his neck.
"Go ahead,” he murmurs, already shivering in anticipation. “Bite me."
* * * *
Vincent awakened with a gasp and sat up in his bed, eyes opened wide and searching before he realized he was alone. Automatically, his hand rose to his neck, and as he gingerly touched his scars with the tip of his fingers, he was almost surprised to find that they weren't bleeding.
The biggest surprise however was to realize that he was disappointed. Disappointed that he had only dreamed of Lilia biting him again, and that it hadn't really happened.
* * * *
"Come on, Jordan. You've been brooding all night. What's wrong?"
The grumble that followed was barely audible. “My father wants to meet you."
That was certainly the last thing Lilia had expected to hear and she turned to look at him. “He does? And how is that a problem?"
Vincent stopped walking and she did too, her eyes darting around in search of prey while he lit a cigarette and took a heavy drag on it.
"It's a problem where your lack of pulse is concerned,” he explained as he started walking again. “My father hates vampires. I've heard him say more than once that all vamps should be dusted, whether they kill or not."
Lilia had long believed that all Special Enforcers thought the same way, but she had realized, during the past weeks, as she worked by his side, that Vincent didn't. He liked his job, and truly believed that vampires who killed ought to be staked, but he didn't go out of his way to dust the vampires who played the game by the humans’ rules.
"From hearing him,” she commented, “it sounded like he wasn't thrilled that you're doing the dusting job."
He let out a dry laugh. “He isn't. He wants all vampires gone with a passion, but he doesn't want me to have anything to do with it. He's afraid I'll be bitten and ... well, I guess he was right at least for that. I was bitten."
She watched from the corner of her eye as his fingers came to slide under his collar, and wondered if he realized what he was doing. The words came out of her mouth before she could realize they probably weren't a good idea.
"Any chance you might be willing to be bitten again?"
Vincent practically leapt away from her, and eyed her warily. “What?"
"Don't tell me you never dream of sinking your teeth in my neck again,” she teased, hoping to make him forget her little slip of the tongue; she was surprised by the blush
that crept up his cheeks.
"Of course not! I ... I mean..."
The deep drag he took on his cigarette told more than his denial.
"Yeah, thought so,” she grinned. “I have the same dreams. Just, you know, the urge might be just a tad stronger seeing that blood is what I eat and yours is even..."
He shook his head and pointed a warning finger at her. “Stop. Right there. I really, really don't want to know."
"Anyone ever told you you're no fun?” she pouted.
"Says the woman who likes to dust vampires as a hobby."
She let go of the teasing, pouting act and shrugged. “It's not a hobby, more of a self-preservation spirit. If I keep you alive, I keep my sanity."
"You're trying to tell me you don't enjoy a good brawl?” he snickered. “Come on, Lilia. You're fooling no one here. I've seen the look on your face when you fight."
"Well, yeah,” she rolled her eyes at him and sat down on a grave marker. “Vampire, violence, kind of go together. What did you expect?"
He frowned as he looked at her, and she realized it was because she was sitting on a grave. Repressing a sigh, she slid off.
"Nothing,” he said as she did. “Nothing at all. I have no expectations whatsoever."
Something flared in his scent when he said the word ‘expectations', and Lilia smiled to herself as she came closer to him, close enough to breathe in the lust coming off him.
"Except for the one that we'll make it to my bed before it's time for you to get home?"
There was that little blush again. “Well ... I'd be lying if I said the idea didn't cross my mind."
She chuckled.
"Cross your mind? Gods, do you have any idea what your scent is like at this instant?"
"No.” He made a face. “And frankly that's another thing I'd rather not talk about."
He took a nervous step back and tossed his cigarette before running a hand through his hair. It was amusing, to watch him fidget. She wondered how long it would take him to learn to appreciate that she could tell when he was horny.
"So, when am I meeting him?” she asked, getting back to their earlier topic and losing Vincent in the process.
"Huh? Meeting who?"
"Your father. You said he wanted to meet me."
"Yes, and I also mentioned he's one of these people who want all vampires dead, did you hear me?"
The slight twinge of irritation in his voice gave her pause, and she was almost thankful for the lone vampire who suddenly stumbled in their path. He might have escaped the encounter untouched, as long as he hadn't attacked Vincent first; but the blood splattered on the front of his shirt and staining his mouth, and Lilia's nod confirming that it was human blood, had Vincent springing into action and turning him to dust before the poor thing even knew what had struck him. Some vampires just deserved staking.
"He doesn't have to know,” she said as Vincent penciled in the kill, time and location in the booklet that never left him. “If you don't tell him I'm a vamp, I won't either."
"And you think you'll fool him?” he questioned, a little incredulous.
"I've fooled a lot of people, Vincent. I'm pretty good at it."
Something dark and not happy crossed Vincent's face, and Lilia internally winced at her faux pas.
"He's not a potential meal for you to play with. He's my father."
"I didn't say I would play with him,” she defended herself. “I can pull it off without a single lie."
He snorted. “I'd like to see you try."
"Does that mean,” she smiled, stepping closer to him once more, “you're going to introduce me to him?"
"Lilia...” The way he said her name sounded like a plea, and she wasn't sure whether he was pleading for her to stop or continue.
One step closer again, and this time their bodies were brushing against each other and he didn't retreat. “So? When do I meet him?"
"I ... I'll think about it."
"Is that it?” she murmured, knowing he would feel the words on his lips. To his credit, he didn't react. His scent however was another thing altogether.
"Yes. You're not getting anything else out of me right now."
"You're sure about that?” she purred, sliding her body closer to him.
Inhaling deeply, she nuzzled his neck before flicking her tongue at his skin; his body shivered, so lightly she might not have felt it if she hadn't been so close to him.
"Not playing fair, Lilia,” he breathed into her hair.
"Vampire, remember?” she replied, now nibbling gently up his throat. “Don't care about fair."
Vincent only started to object when her hands moved from his back to his front and the growing bulge there. “Someone could see us."
His protest however was as weak and half-hearted as the way he batted at her hands. Ignoring both, Lilia continued to press her body against his, leading him backwards until his back was against a tree. The fleeting thought of Nathanael learning about how she was fucking Jordan out in the open instead of killing him had crossed her mind, but she wanted him too much at that moment to manage to care.
"There's no one here,” she murmured against his jaw and flicked her tongue against his skin.
His answer was incoherent, but he was still vaguely fending off her hands as she tried to unfasten his pants. Changing her tactics, she linked her fingers with his and slowly brought both his arms over his head while distracting him with a series of kisses down his neck and increasingly closer to her mark still hidden under his clothes.
"Don't move,” she demanded, shifting her hold so that one of her hands pressed both his wrists to the tree, letting the other free to roam down again. Even if she had been using all of her strength, which she wasn't, it wouldn't have been too hard for him to push her back. Although he gave another token of protest by uttering her name, he didn't try to move and remained exactly where he was as her free hand quickly unbuttoned his shirt before sliding beneath the t-shirt. The muscles of his stomach trembled under her touch and she reveled in his reaction. He was so beautifully sensitive.
"Ever been tied up, Vincent?” she whispered, her lips brushing against the shell of his ear. “I have a feeling you'd enjoy it. Very. Much."
She punctuated her last words with flicks of her thumbs against his flat nipples, and felt one then the other harden against her finger, just like another, more insistent part of him was, trapped against her thigh. She rocked against him, delighting in the strangled gasps she pulled from him and pondering her next move. Dropping to her knees and worshipping that succulent cock of his with her mouth would have been the most practical thing to do, but she wanted more for herself. She had been told, more than once, that she was greedy; there was nothing wrong with that as far as she was concerned.
While she was thinking, her hand had wandered down of its own accord and finally opened his jeans and pulled his cock out of his boxers. It was hot and heavy in her hand, as hot, and heavy as Vincent's breathing in the crook of her neck.
"Don't move,” she reminded him as both her hands let go of him; he was shaking, but he remained just as he was, hands pinned to the tree high above his head, cock proudly jutting out of his pants, a delectable image of debauchery. His previous plea that someone could see them was all but forgotten, and Lilia couldn't have cared less. She wanted him, and she wanted him now. No time to go to her mausoleum. Taking off her pants and panties was already taking too long.
* * * *
The sight wasn't particularly surprising in itself. Alexei had witnessed Lilia fucking her prey on more than one occasion over the years, and he had always enjoyed watching her, even joined in, a few times. The girl was a beauty, he could admit to that, and understood that was in part why their Sire had kept her so close for so long.
No, the incongruous part wasn't that she was fucking a human in the middle of a graveyard where anyone could see; it was who her partner was. At first Alexei couldn't see, for the man was trapped between the tree and her as she practical
ly climbed onto him and started riding him. But when it became too hard to remain standing and they collapsed to the grass, he had a clear view of the human thrusting into Lilia's sweet cunt as though he were a demon himself. The same human she was supposed to be hunting, the same human she had promised their Sire she would kill.
However when they were done, both of them panting loudly as they returned from bliss, the bite Alexei expected didn't come. She didn't kill the damn Enforcer. Instead, she helped him stand, they got their clothes more or less back into place, and they rushed off as if they couldn't wait to start round two.
Nathanael wouldn't be pleased.
Chapter 13
"So, when can I expect to have grandchildren?"
Vincent, who had been taking a sip of wine, barely avoided spraying the table and started coughing when the alcohol went down the wrong pipe. His father looked at him questioningly, while Lilia seemed mildly amused.
"Dad,” he managed to utter, his voice rasping, “we are not talking about that now."
"Why not? I'm not getting any younger, so it's a legitimate concern for me."
"Dad,” Vincent repeated warningly, but stopped there when Lilia reached across the table to cover his hand with hers.
"It's OK,” she said with a sad little smile, before turning her eyes to Vincent's father. “The reason we're not talking about it,” she said, with the barest tremor in her voice, “is that, unfortunately, I cannot bear children."
Vincent blinked and his jaw fell open as his father immediately apologized to Lilia for bringing up what had to be a painful subject.
She was incredible. Ever since they had arrived to the restaurant, she had played her role to perfection. She hadn't said one word that wasn't true, but the simple way she answered questions or chatted with Vincent's father said it all ... incredible. Too bad vampires weren't eligible to be awarded Oscars.
"Don't worry about it,” she insisted as Emery apologized again. “I have accepted a long time ago that I wouldn't be a mother, at least not in that way. It doesn't mean there aren't other options."