by Elisa Adams
“And what is it you want right now?”
“You. All night long.”
It sounded like a perfect idea to him. But he’d have to have her in his car on her way back to her sister well before the sun rose, or else things would get mighty complicated.
Chapter Two
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Becca turned and sauntered across the room, her delectable ass swaying with every step. “Already you can’t keep up? We haven’t even started yet.”
Wil let out a soft growl, rolled his head from side to side and clenched his fists. “I’ll keep up, woman. Don’t ever doubt that.”
“Awfully sure of yourself,” she said before she disappeared down the hall to the left, one last glance over her shoulder beckoning him to follow.
He took off after her practically at a run, the beast inside him clamoring to get out of its cage. He’d let it out soon enough. She’d take it, and he had a feeling she’d love every second.
He found her in the bedroom at the end of the hall, her hip propped against the high, dark wood footboard of the huge bed. Light filtered from a single lamp on a bedside table, the shade made with red silk and a beaded fringe. The bedding matched, the walls in the room painted a rich burnt gold. Heavy, deep red velvet curtains covered the windows in place of modern blinds. He swallowed hard. It was bold, unusual, and brought to mind exotic brothels in a time long past. Sensual and inviting. She wasn’t the innocent Ellie believed, and he was a fool for falling into this situation. But he wasn’t backing down. It was too late for that.
“I am sure of myself. With good reason. I think the real question is whether you’ll be able to keep up with me.”
The look she gave him told him she didn’t think that would be a problem.
She didn’t know him very well.
He stepped over the threshold and stalked toward her, watching her carefully to gauge her reactions. By this point, most women would be a little nervous, a little afraid of what he might do to them. But not Becca. She didn’t move. The sexy, arrogant smile never left her face. She really thought she was a match for him. That she could give as well as she could take. He hadn’t met a woman yet who’d been his equal, at least not in the bedroom.
He’d met one who was close, once. A few years ago. But she belonged to someone else. A close friend. And the rule, one of the few he lived by, still applied. No married women. Though they weren’t married in the legal sense, Merida was Royce’s mate and he wasn’t about to get in the middle of that. Not unless they invited him again—which he highly doubted would happen. It was an incredible experience. A once-in-a-lifetime one, and that was how it would be best remembered.
In some ways, Becca reminded him of Merida. Wild, curly hair, though Becca’s was nearly black where Merida’s was red. Curvy yet slim body, fair skin, an overabundance of attitude. Tonight would be amazing. It would be just one night, since once she found out why he was there she’d most likely never speak to him again. Ellie probably wouldn’t, either, if she found out what he’d done with her sister. But stopping was no longer an option. They’d passed that point when he stepped into her bedroom. She wanted him, and he needed her that night.
Her gaze dropped to his pants. “You’re still hard.”
He nodded, not trusting his voice. Did she expect anything less? She’d been tormenting him relentlessly since he first spoke to her.
“With all that inane conversation you tried to make, all the ways you tried to distract yourself. I’m impressed. But I’m done with playtime now.” She grasped the hem of her tank top and yanked it out of her skirt, pulling the shirt over her head and dropping it to the floor. The skirt followed, falling as soon as she unzipped it, and she stepped out of it. She stood in front of him wearing only those incredible leather boots, looking like a dark goddess ready for a night of play with one of her minions.
The visual only increased his arousal. He groaned.
“Why don’t you come over here and let me take care of that for you.”
She didn’t have to ask him twice. He walked over to her and dragged her to him. She didn’t protest his rough display, but then again he really didn’t expect her to. She’d been as eager all night as he had. Maybe even more so, if that was possible. She didn’t know him, shouldn’t trust him, and yet she’d allowed him into her home. Into her bedroom. And soon, into her body. Why?
He let her go and crossed his arms over his chest. Before this went any further, before it passed a point where neither of them would be able to stop, he needed that answer. At the moment it was the single thing holding him back. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“What’s the matter? Afraid, Wil?”
“No, but maybe you should be.”
“Why is that?” She reached her hand between them and unbuttoned his jeans.
“You don’t know me.”
“I’m not scared of you, if that’s what you mean. I’ve seen a lot in my life, had to learn to take care of myself.” The zipper rasped as she slid it down. “Believe me. I can defend myself against any man.”
A human man maybe, but not him. He wouldn’t hurt her, not in any lifetime, but she didn’t know that. He gripped her wrists to keep her from touching him any further. “You should be afraid of me.”
Now he was starting to sound like the villain in a bad horror movie. He closed his eyes for a brief moment and tried to shake off the feeling of surrealism that had settled over the night.
She ignored his protests and wriggled her wrists out of his grip. “The only thing I’m afraid of right now is you not being able to perform. Other than that, I think I’ve got it pretty much covered. Trust me on that, okay?”
She pulled the hem of his T-shirt out of his pants and pushed it up. “Come on, Wil. Help me out here.”
A short laugh escaped him as he lifted his arms and let her pull it all the way off. It hit the floor across the room a few seconds later. And then her hands were on his chest, stroking, flickering across his nipples. She leaned in to nip at one with her teeth, her fingernails scraping over the other. Her pelvis ground against his, almost perfectly matched due to her height. He sucked in a sharp breath. Hell. She’d be the death of him, not her sister.
“I like this tattoo.” Her fingers stroked the thick black snake winding around his upper arm. “Sexy.”
“Um, thanks.” He’d never thought of it that way. The snake had been an impulse a few decades ago, something he’d done on a whim. The dragon on his hip held a lot more significance. A good friend, an artist he’d known for many years, had designed the intricate scales and wings of the fire-breathing creature. When she died ten years ago, a victim of breast cancer caught too late, he’d had her drawing branded on his skin.
Becca’s hand lingered on his arm for a few seconds before trailing down his stomach, back to the waistband of his jeans. This time he didn’t try to stop her. She slipped her warm fingers past the waistband, into his boxers, and wrapped them around his cock.
“Very nice, Wil. Very nice.”
Her fingers tightened and she stroked, up and down, a rhythm that made his blood pound in his ears. Yes, the woman knew what she was doing. She’d bring him to orgasm in no time if she wasn’t careful.
He cupped her breasts, pushed them together and up until he could lean down and run his tongue across the peaked, rosy nipples. She sighed, arched her back and her grip on his cock tightened even more.
Her breasts tasted as sweet as her mouth. As sweet as he knew the blood rushing through her veins would taste. And he would taste. He’d taste her when she came, when it would be the best—when she would be too far gone to even realize what he was doing beyond bringing them both extreme pleasure.
She pulled away and stepped back. “Okay, out of the pants.”
“Demanding, aren’t we?”
She shrugged, winked at him. “Not too much. I just know what I want. I want to see all of you. Now.”
Who was he to argue with that kind of logic? He sa
t on the edge of the bed and unlaced his boots, one by one, the job a lot more tedious than it should have been. Why hadn’t he worn something a little easier to get out of? Once the boots hit the floor, he took off his socks and stood up again. He pushed his pants and boxers out of the way and let them drop to the floor.
“Is that better?”
“Most definitely.”
She sauntered back over to him, her hips swaying in a delectable motion with every step she took. Her heels struck the wood floor with a sharp crack-crack, seemingly louder now that he stood vulnerable in front of her, each burst of sound sending him further and further into his state of arousal. His nerves snapped, his muscles so bunched he was afraid he might not be able to move. She stopped in front of him and settled her hand over his right hip bone.
“This one’s cool,” she said, her fingers caressing the intricate dragon he’d gotten to honor a friend. “Do you have any more?”
“No. That’s it.”
“Did they hurt?”
Like freakin’ hell, but he wasn’t about to tell her that. “No. It was over in seconds. Didn’t feel a thing.”
He wouldn’t have felt much, had he been human at the time, but being vampire made him much more sensitive to pain. The little needle pricks had felt like thousands of bees attacking his skin.
“Cool.”
Not exactly the word he would have chosen, but it was interesting that a woman found him “cool”. He hadn’t heard that in too long to remember.
She leaned in and ran her tongue down his chest, from his collarbone to just above his navel. “You taste good.”
She licked her way back up again, stopping at his chest. Her tongue circled his nipple, around and around but never touching. Never quite close enough to where he needed that hot, wet tongue. He put a hand in her hair to guide her to where he wanted her to be. And then she reached her goal. His goal, for the moment. The next place he wanted her mouth was far more important.
Her laugh vibrated against his skin, her lips brushing, teeth nipping, tongue swirling over and over. Then she pulled back, blew a hot breath along the wet skin and raked the sensitive flesh with her fingernail and he nearly came out of his skin.
“You like that?” she asked her eyes glimmering amusement.
“Oh yeah.”
“You like a little pain?”
Not a subject he wanted to get into with her. There’d been a time in his life he lived for that sort of thing, but that time had long passed. She might be the one to resurrect such urges inside him, but she might not be happy with the consequences.
“Not usually.”
A corner of her mouth lifted in a half smile. “You’re such a liar.”
Without giving him a chance to answer, she leaned in and bit his shoulder. Hard. His gut clenched tight and his cock hardened even more, pressing up against his abdomen. His fangs came fully down then, aching to sink into her skin, to bite her the way she’d just bitten him. Yes, he liked pain. A lot. But he wouldn’t hurt her. If she wanted to hurt him, he might lose control.
“Don’t.”
“Why not? You liked it so much.”
“Don’t, unless you want to end up flat on your back on the floor with me ramming my cock into you so deep you’ll think I’m in your throat.”
The words were meant as a threat, but she didn’t take them that way. “Not yet. Later. Definitely.”
She reached down and cupped his balls in her hand, squeezing them gently as she moved her mouth over to his other nipple. He let his head drop back, the sensations overwhelming. Strong. Too strong, in a strange sort of way. His mind and body blurred into a ball of nerves and sensation, every touch magnified in its intensity, every word she spoke echoing in his head. It must have been the alcohol, something his system didn’t tolerate very well. He couldn’t think of any other explanation other than lack of sleep, but sleep was the furthest thing from his mind right now.
“Are you feeling okay?” she asked, her tone anything but concerned. “You look a little woozy.”
“I’m fine.” More than fine. He had a strong suspicion a man could die of too much more of this, and he had no problem with that outcome.
Her fingers wandered from his balls to grasp his cock again and she sank down on her knees in front of him. He didn’t dare protest, didn’t dare say a single word. Didn’t want her changing her mind. He was aching for her, however he could get her. As long as she did something to put him out of his misery.
She smiled up at him, her gaze hot and knowing, her breath fanning across the head of his cock. He shuddered, his hands gripped her hair as she slid her mouth over him and enveloped him. Until he bumped the back of her throat. Fuck. Where had she learned a trick like that? It was going to kill him in about five seconds.
“Becca,” he protested, but he didn’t really mean it. She pulled back and he groaned.
“You don’t like my mouth on your dick?”
He could only groan again in answer.
“Then shut up and enjoy it already.”
Not one to argue with a beautiful woman holding one of his most important body parts in her hand, he clamped his mouth shut and closed his eyes, giving her the freedom to touch him any way she chose.
“No, don’t close your eyes,” she said. “I want you to watch this. Watch me suck you.”
His cock surged in her hand, a drop of pre-cum leaking out the tip. The length of him glistened with her saliva. She leaned in and caught the droplet with her tongue. She closed her eyes and smiled as if savoring the flavor. When her eyelids fluttered open her gaze drifted to his cock.
No more words were needed. She enveloped him with her mouth again, swirling her tongue around the head on each upstroke. Her thumb and forefinger encircled the base, tightening around him and increasing the sensations coursing through his body. The top of his head felt like it would explode, maybe from her ministrations, maybe from the alcohol he should have avoided. He didn’t know. Didn’t care.
He watched as her mouth took him in, then moved away with an innate grace that stirred something inside him. The circle of her fingers tightened even more and she moved it up and down a few inches in tandem with her mouth. He was close, getting closer by the second. His balls had drawn up tight against his body. And his muscles clenched in anticipation.
She reached her free hand between her legs, stroked a finger in and out of her pussy a few times before she brought it back up again. And then he felt her reach around behind him, prodding at his anus with that slick digit. He tensed against the invasion, earning him a swat on the ass.
Her mouth left his cock long enough for her to laugh. “Relax, Wil. This will only make it better.”
He didn’t believe it for a second, but she didn’t give him a chance to argue. She took advantage of his surprise and pressed against the tight ring of muscles again. The tip of her finger, coated in her slick juices, slipped inside. She pushed further, edging it inside him further until she pressed against a spot that made every nerve in his body scream.
“Yeah, right there.”
She ran her tongue down the length of his cock and back up again a few times before taking him back inside, all the while twisting her finger in small rotations. Within seconds she pushed him over the edge and he spurted into her mouth. It felt like the orgasm went on for an eternity, his balls emptying completely of their stores, and still she continued to lave him until his spasming stopped. Then she rocked back on her heels, pulled her mouth away, licked the tip clean, and slowly pulled her finger out of his ass.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
It was one of the most incredible things he’d experienced in a long while. His head had started to spin—a phenomenon he’d never experienced before. He only grunted in reply. He dropped to his knees on the hard floor. She’d made a mistake in antagonizing him. Now she’d find that out.
“Come here.”
She didn’t keep him waiting. She crawled on her hands and knees to where he kn
elt and leaned into him for a kiss. When her tongue delved into her mouth he tasted himself mixed with her unique flavor. She raked her nails down his back, bit his lip and pulled back.
“I want you so bad, Wil.”
Her voice was breathy, her face flushed and her eyes wild. He smiled. “Wanna give me a second here to recover?”
In truth he was already half hard again. The alcohol. It was the only thing that made sense. She wrapped her hand around his cock, stroked him to full arousal as she teased him with her lips and tongue along his jaw, down his throat and across his collarbone.
“Not really,” she whispered against his neck.
She was relentless and he couldn’t take it anymore. He grasped her wrist and pulled her hand away from his cock, turning her away from him and pressing the heel of his hand between her shoulder blades. She dropped to the floor, catching herself with her hands so that she knelt before him on all fours. She tossed her hair back and looked at him over her shoulder, that same secretive grin goading him into action.
He ran his hands along the firm globes of her ass, cupping each cheek in his palms. He gave them a squeeze, the flesh around his fingers turning white. When he let go, her skin had pinkened nicely with the outlines of his hands. Becca sighed and wriggled her ass. He slid a palm over her warm skin, from her ass to the center of her back. Pressed lightly so that her back arched, lifting her ass and exposing her drenched pussy to his view.
“Beautiful.”
She shivered, let out a small sound laced with need.
His hand continued its exploration, caressing her soft skin, stopping only when he reached her shoulder blades. He brought his hand around her body until he cupped her breast in his palm. He gave the nipple a light pinch before he brought his hand back up and wrapped it in her hair, using it to lift her head up.
“Tell me what you want, Becca.”
“You,” she rasped, her body heaving with each breath she took.
“How do you want me to take you?”
“Just like this.” She wriggled her ass again, pressing herself against his hard cock. He nearly moaned from the feel of her slick juices coating him.