His fingers separated her labia and stroked between.
Her hands reached behind to grasp his thighs, otherwise she’d have melted to the floor of the shower in a puddle.
He licked behind her ear then tsked. “We’ll have to do something about this sand, first.”
Again, he reached for the shampoo. When his fingers massaged her scalp, Darcy swore someone purred. His strong fingers worked in the suds and kept right on kneading and shaping. He drew her under the water to rinse her hair and, with her eyes closed, she followed him, docile as a lamb.
“Give me your soap,” he said.
Her eyes slowly blinked open. “Soap?”
“The bar you’re clutching.”
Darcy looked down and realized she still held her mother’s soap in her hand. She held it up for him.
Leaning close, he sniffed then took the bar. “Raspberries. My favorite. Now, come here.” He drew her away from the water and sat on the ledge at the far end of the stall, pulling her to stand between his open thighs. With a twirl of his finger, he indicated that she should turn around.
She shot him one last meaningless glare and turned. She listened as he worked the lather between his hands.
Then he glided his soapy hands over her skin from shoulders to buttocks, and all the sensitive points in between. By the time his hands reached her ass, Darcy’s heart beat loudly. His hands parted her buttocks, and his finger trailed down the crevice. “No sand here,” he said, gravel in his voice.
In the creases between her legs and buttocks, he found a trace of grit, so he lifted her cheeks and spent minutes soaping and smoothing to ensure not a granule was missed. By the time he’d finished, Darcy couldn’t keep her legs from wobbling, and she was ready to scream.
When he turned her to wash her front, Darcy’s gaze fell on his face. His nostrils were flared, his cheeks reddened, and the smirk was now a tight line of tension. Gratified he was every bit as overcome with desire as she was, Darcy gave herself over to his touch. Just this once, she’d be weak.
He lathered his hands again and reached for her breasts. Already tight and puckered, her nipples caught the soap bubbles he smoothed there. His large hands dwarfed her breasts, but despite her earlier doubts, he played with them, apparently fascinated.
His fingers rolled her nipples, tugged and squeezed until they stretched, fully engorged. She nearly protested when he left them to glide his hands down her belly. He swirled a finger inside her belly button, and Darcy’s abdomen jumped and quivered, her legs once again turning to jelly. Then he reached lower.
She parted her legs to make room for his hands, and he swept them between, rubbing over her outer labia. Then he split them to finger her tender inner lips.
Darcy reached for his shoulders to steady herself and leaned to rest her head on his shoulder as his fingers rimmed her cunt, circling, rubbing.
He found her clitoris and plucked it. “Lift your leg over mine.”
He didn’t want mere compliance—he demanded her knowing participation.
Darcy was beyond any pretense of defiance. She lifted one leg and draped it over his. The space between her legs was wide open for his marauding fingers to explore. Her nails bit into his shoulders.
Looking down the space between their bodies, Darcy gasped, her breath growing shallow and raspy. Their differences, human to vampire, weren’t important now. How their bodies complimented each other’s, feminine to masculine, assumed precedence. Something deep inside her soft core yearned to yield to his mastery.
His erection stood straight up, veins crisscrossing beneath golden skin tinged with red. The wide, plump head looked soft and purplish. She couldn’t resist smoothing a fingertip over it.
“No touching. Not yet,” he said, his words clipped.
He rolled the bar of soap between his palms, working up more lather, and then set it aside. When his hands descended to her crotch, Darcy closed her eyes and let her head fall back.
His fingers rubbed over the hair on her mons, tugging, massaging, and then he reached lower to follow the lines where her thighs met her pussy, his fingers smoothing, yet creating an ache that drew her belly taut.
She widened her legs even more and sank slightly on one knee to rock against his hand. Hurry! She wanted to shout at him. She needed him to be inside her, now.
He traced a finger between her labia.
Darcy sucked in a breath, sure that now he would dip inside.
“Open your eyes.” He removed one of his hands from her and circled his cock. “This is vampire cock, sweetheart,” he said, his voice roughening.
“What? You think once I’ve had vamp, I’ll never go back?” As soon as the words were spoken, she regretted her quip. A habit she tended to do when nervous.
Quentin’s face broke into grin. “I can guarantee any man who comes after me will be found wanting.”
“You think highly of yourself, don’t you?”
“I’ve over a hundred and fifty years of practical experience, love. I’m just stating facts.”
A hundred and fifty years of fucking? She wet her lips with her tongue. “From where I’m standing, I’m not seeing anything that special.” Liar!
His hand glided up and down himself. “This is only one piece of the equipment, love. But I’m getting ahead of myself. I want to describe the process, so there will be no surprises. I don’t want to frighten you.”
“I’m not scared.” Her skittering heartbeat made a liar out of her.
One brow rose, mocking her assertion. “Well, then let’s get on with it.” The hand between her legs rubbed over her hip, then clasped one buttock to force her closer. He angled his cock forward to her pussy and pushed between her legs.
Darcy’s nails bit harder into his shoulders, but she refused to betray her excitement in her expression. She pressed her lips tightly together and dared him with her eyes to take her.
Instead, he leaned forward and kissed her. Darcy gasped, and he took advantage, sliding his tongue into her mouth.
She tilted her head and deepened the kiss. When her own tongue swept inside his mouth, she encountered sharp barriers.
She tried to jerk away, but the hand on her ass anchored her against his hard, lean body. Her skin noted changes there, too.
“I wanted to prepare you.” His voice was deeper, rougher. Quentin was losing his veneer of humanity, changing into his vampire self. He pressed her ass closer, causing his cock to rub against her aching cunt. His gaze pinned her like a butterfly to a mounting board. “Tell me you don’t want this.”
Darcy shivered in his embrace, her nipples constricting tightly. “Just this once,” she whispered, not recognizing the husky tone of her voice.
The corners of his lips curved, and the tips of his fangs appeared. He stood, his cock pushing unerringly inside her cunt, higher, deeper, until his hips lifted her from the floor.
Darcy gasped loudly. She’d known he was large, but knowing and knowing were two different things entirely. Her pussy was stretched to the limit. The walls of her vagina eased around him, softening to accept his intrusion.
In two steps, he pushed her beneath the shower’s spray, pressing her back against the tiled wall.
As water sheeted over her face, Darcy closed her eyes. Her legs rose to wrap tightly around his hips, and her arms clutched his shoulders. Instantly, her focus became the rigid pole of his sex, driving impossibly deep inside her. His hips rolled. Darcy’s back rose and fell against the wall, and her legs squeezed to draw him closer, deeper.
His hands grasped her buttocks, and he lifted and shoved her hips down, causing a friction between her vagina and his cock that threatened to sweep over her like a wildfire.
“Give me your neck,” he growled.
Now! Now she’d find out what a true vamp-induced orgasm felt like. She rolled her head to the side and offered her neck for their pleasure.
His tongue lapped at her skin, and Darcy trembled. Then his fangs bit into her, and her breath hissed
between her teeth. A short, sharp pain was followed by an indescribable euphoria as his mouth suctioned against her neck.
Darcy grew still in his arms, sensation overpowering her limbs. Her passion-drugged senses noted his body was hardening, muscles expanding. His cock thickened and lengthened, and Darcy’s hips lurched. She whimpered.
His teeth pulled away. “Wait. Will ease.” His chest and hips shook.
Darcy opened her eyes and saw his savage mask. Plates of bony armor pushed out his forehead, altering his gaze into a sinister, hooded leer. His mouth dripped with her blood.
“I don’t want you to stop.” She bit her lips and moaned when his hips jerked beneath her. “Move! Move now!”
He lowered his head and sank his teeth into her neck again, anchoring her in place as his hips resumed their deep, upward thrusts.
Darcy mewled like a kitten, one hand gripping his hair, the other scraping his back with her nails.
Quentin pounded harder, driving her higher against the wall—faster and faster.
Then she was writhing in his arms—a wild thing, clawing his back to reach the summit. Her orgasm slammed through her, stiffening her legs, arching her back. She cried out.
Quentin’s answering howl reverberated on the tiled walls.
Still panting, Darcy lifted her gaze rose to meet Quentin’s. As she watched, his face reformed, but his gaze was wary. “You can let me down now,” she said.
His lips tightened, but he nodded.
Suddenly, the door to the bathroom slammed open and the shower curtain jerked back. Joe took in their compromising position with a single searing glance.
He raised a sharpened stake in his fist.
Chapter Three
‡
“No! Joe, don’t do it,” Darcy cried out, reaching beyond Quentin’s back to stave off the blow.
“You goddamned bastard!” Joe spat, his face and body taut with fury. “What did you do—use your vamp hypnotism?”
Quentin remained where he was—deep inside Darcy’s still-pulsating channel. Despite the interruption, he wasn’t ready to withdraw from the sweet flesh fisting his cock.
Joe raised the stake higher. “Get off her!” he said, his jaw clenched.
“Unless you care to join us,” Quentin said, his tone even, “I’d suggest—”
“We’re finished.” Darcy pushed against his shoulders.
Reluctantly, Quentin backed away from the wall and eased his cock from inside her body. Her legs slid to the floor, but he was gratified when she clutched his waist to steady herself.
He turned to face his adversary, unconcerned that his cock gleamed with their combined cum.
Joe’s face darkened. When his gaze swept over Darcy’s naked body, his stance grew even more rigid. “Bastard!”
Quentin realized Darcy’s blood still trickled from the punctures in her neck. He held up both hands. “I’ll close the wounds.” Keeping an eye on the man holding the stake, Quentin drew Darcy close.
She flinched, but allowed him to lick her neck to seal the small punctures.
When Quentin lifted his head, he glared a challenge at Joe.
Joe’s gaze darted to Darcy. “Go get some clothes on,” he said curtly.
Darcy wrapped her arms around her waist and stepped toward Joe. “You can’t hurt him.”
Quentin hoped Joe didn’t see her backside, or he’d be dust. His fingers had left bruises, which were quickly turning blue.
Joe’s gaze bored into hers. “Were you willing?” he asked, his voice raw.
“Yes,” she whispered.
He closed his eyes for a moment and lowered his stake. “How could you?”
Darcy’s face was ashen, and a sheen of moisture glazed her eyes. “I don’t know. I was curious, I guess.”
Curious? Anger bristled through Quentin, but he held his tongue. She’d been a hell of lot more than curious. Hotter than a bitch in heat was a more apt description.
Joe’s gaze swept over her again, and a muscle tensed in his jaw. “Fuck you, Darcy.”
Darcy blanched and turned away her face.
Quentin’s hands balled into fists as he resisted the urge to tear the man’s head from his body. He recognized jealousy and desire when he saw them, and Joe was eaten up with bitterness borne of both emotions.
“Get dressed,” Joe repeated.
Darcy left the room without a backward glance.
Quentin would have liked to follow her out to soothe the hurt he’d seen in her eyes. But Joe loomed over him, his chest rapidly rising and falling. Finally, his face twisted into a sneer, and he tossed the stake at Quentin’s feet. “Stay away from her, or I swear I’ll kill you.” He turned on his heels and followed Darcy into the bedroom.
Quentin pulled the shower curtain closed and turned the water a notch hotter. Then he reached for the raspberry soap. When his lathered hands encircled his cock, he murmured, “This will be more interesting than I thought.”
“Darcy!”
Ignoring Joe’s angry voice, Darcy shrugged into her robe and belted it tightly around her waist. When she felt his hand clamp onto her shoulder, she stiffened.
“Did…did he hurt you?” Joe asked, his voice softer now.
“No. I already said so.” The word strangled in her throat. She was sore, and she wouldn’t be at all surprised if her tender inner flesh was slightly torn. The vampire’s cock had almost been more than she could take.
“Dammit, Darcy, don’t lie.”
Darcy whirled, fighting tears and embarrassment. “Joe, this is none of your business. I’m fine.”
“Then why are you lying?” Joe’s gaze pinned her.
Darcy fought to remain immobile and not give him a clue concerning her conflicting emotions.
He must have seen something anyway, because his lips twisted and he grabbed her arm. Pulling her behind him, he entered the living room, and then dragged her down the hallway to the guest bedroom.
When the door closed behind them, she shook off his hold. “I’m tired. I want to rest.”
“After you’ve satisfied me,” Joe said, his jaw set.
Darcy jerked. “What did you say?”
“Just take off that robe.”
“I will not.” Her body tensed. What is he doing? “Get out.”
Joe’s hard-eyed gaze narrowed.
Darcy felt a moment’s uncertainty.
“I said, take it off.” His voice was low and menacing.
Her gaze swept over his bare chest to the top of his jeans. The snap at the waist was undone, but she detected no bulge of sexual arousal.
“Stubborn…” he said, stepping close. His hands landed on the collar of her robe, and he pushed the lapels wide. “Foolish…”
So shocked she could only stand there while he stripped the robe from her body, Darcy barely realized she was naked again until the cool, conditioned air hit her moist skin.
“Stunning…” Joe’s hands hovered just above her breasts. His brown-eyed gaze stared at her nipples, which were drawing into painful, rigid points.
It was the cool air, she told herself. Not the heat that flushed his cheeks, nor the muscle that clenched his jaw. She couldn’t want him. Not after fucking the vampire.
Maybe that was the problem. Quentin had primed her for sex. And Joe was a much better, safer choice. They’d been circling each other for months, dancing with desire.
One palm lowered to cover her breast, and she gasped. Already abraded from Quentin’s play, her breasts were sensitive, tuned to the powerful, sensual pull of Joe’s rigid posture and the deep breaths that billowed his broad chest.
His gaze rose to her face. “I’m sorry, Darse,” he said, his voice raw. “I only meant to see if he’d harmed you.” Still, he didn’t move away.
Darcy didn’t step back, either. Their chests met, and her head fell back. Their mouths were inches apart. When his arms closed around her, she whimpered and widened her legs to let him nestle between her thighs.
“I won’t
hurt you, I swear,” he said, then his lips closed over hers.
Too lost in his kiss and the confusing maelstrom of her awakened desire, she didn’t protest when he walked her backward to the bed. She locked her mouth to his and sat on the edge, allowing him to come over her and drag her to the soft center. His body blanketed her cooling skin, and she welcomed him, opening her thighs wide around his hips.
The kiss deepened. Knowing this was stupid didn’t take away the raw edge of her desire. No doubt the vampire was responsible, otherwise how could she be this aroused so soon?
His tongue slid into her mouth.
Darcy reciprocated, murmuring unintelligible protests until his mouth lifted from hers. His expression was still angry, but the hurt lingered in the stark clarity of his gaze. “Tell me to stop.”
His command echoed Quentin’s—jarring and direct. But she knew she wouldn’t ask him to stop. He was her partner, her best friend. And she wanted him every bit as much as she had the big, bad vamp. Clasping his face with her hands, she pulled him to her breast and cried out when his mouth closed around her sensitive nipple.
He shifted to the side and glided a hand over her belly and below. His strong fingers delved between her swollen flesh.
Darcy widened her legs and lifted her hips to take him deeper.
But, she flinched when a second finger joined the first. She was too sore to take him.
He withdrew.
Afraid he’d reject her after being reminded of why she was sore, she was surprised when his mouth continued to suckle her breast—softer now, his tongue sliding over the tip.
Darcy’s hips lifted again, and Joe slid a jeans-covered thigh between hers, pressing into her soft core. The gentle abrasion was almost too much, but she rode his thigh. Needing him closer, Darcy smoothed her hands over his bare back, then beneath his waistband to cup his firm buttocks.
Joe’s ass tensed. He murmured, and then pulled away. Without breaking her gaze, he stripped his pants down his long, lean thighs and kicked them to the floor.
Darcy’s chest constricted. She’d seen him in the gym, wrestled him to the floor during workouts, but she hadn’t any idea how beautiful his male flesh was—like warm, creamy cocoa. His cock was a shade darker, springing high and tight from a nest of black curls.
Truly, Madly...Deadly (a vampire romance) (Night Fall Book 2) Page 3