by Cd Hussey
Covered in goose bumps, she turned and stared in disbelief at him. "Why did you do that?"
He laughed. "That ought to cool us both down a little."
She didn't have a chance to be annoyed with him, or even appreciate his teasing humor, because as he stepped smoothly from the shower, she became mesmerized by his perfect ass and broad, muscular back.
"Julia." His expression was sly as he dangled a towel for her.
She supposed she should be embarrassed by her obvious ogling, but there were more important things to worry about, like drying off her shivering body. Yanking the towel from him, she quickly wiped the water from her skin, and then cocooned herself into the plush, cotton folds. Although she wasn't really angry, she glared at him from under her dripping hair.
"Oh, come now." Tugging on her towel, he pulled her in and wrapped his arms around her, encasing her in his over-sized towel. "If I'd let the shower do all the work, I wouldn't have the pleasure of warming you up myself." He bent and kissed her, deep and hard.
Forgetting she'd ever been cold, she released her own towel and pressed into him, sliding her hands around his neck and pulling him as close as possible. Seconds later, his towel joined hers on the floor.
He only lingered there a moment before scooping her up and carrying her from the bathroom. Although the kiss never eased up, it became softer, gentler; his full lips enveloping hers in a series of sucks and nips.
It wasn't until he set her down on something cool and soft that she was finally able to get air to the bottom on her lungs. They were on his bed. The mattress was firm but plush, and the high thread count of the black cotton sheets felt like silk against her bare skin. Two candles cast a soft golden glow over the room, throwing dancing shadows on the red painted walls.
Easing her back onto the bed, his lips left her mouth and trailed down her neck. Her breath caught as she expected him to bite her. Only his tongue grazed her flesh though, as he moved from her neck. His touch was feather light, and chills danced on her skin wherever it landed. He lingered briefly on her breasts, bringing her nipples alive and exploring the sensitized nerves with quick flicks of his tongue, before moving lower.
When his tongue lightly brushed across her clit, waves of energy shot up her spine. She moaned, arching into him. Faintly, she heard him echo her. His tongue danced around her core, exploring her inner thighs, the points of her hips, and then returning to delicately caress the tip of her clit. It would only take a few more passes and she would cum again.
God, she just wanted to pull his body against hers, feel him deep inside, grind her hips into him. Oral sex wasn't enough, she needed to touch him, be one with him. She needed his body to cover hers.
As if reading her mind, he was suddenly above her. Grabbing his neck, she met him with a rough kiss. All of the gentleness fled from his touch, and the firm way his hands passed over her curves only inflamed her further. They became a tangle of bodies, pawing and groping at each other like a hormone enraged teenage couple.
Hovered above her, Armand finally pulled back, his breath heavy and rough. As his hazel gaze trapped hers, an intense longing and desire slammed into her. "I want to taste you, drink you."
"Please," she begged, squirming under his heavy body, wanting, craving more of him. She needed him to drink from her, needed to share every part of her body with him, needed to be the woman that gave him everything he desired, including her blood. Especially her blood. It surprised her how strong the longing was. "God, Armand, yes."
Planting a final, passionate kiss on her before sliding smoothly off the bed, Armand quickly retrieved a few items from his nightstand and returned to her side.
The cool handle of what looked like an intricately carved scalpel slid slowly and lightly down her neck and over her breasts. "The blade is fresh," he murmured, his gentle kisses trailing the hilt.
She barely heard him, she was too engrossed by the contrast between the cold, hard metal, and his soft, warm mouth. He moved lower, passing lightly over her core and stopping at her inner thigh. Easing her legs apart, he continued to lightly caress her skin with the blunt end of the knife. Chills shot down her legs and heat flooded her loins. By now, it had to be hot enough down there to fry an egg.
He flipped the blade, nipped gently at her skin, and then made two tiny incisions, a growl erupting somewhere deep in his throat as he covered the broken skin with his mouth. The pain was quick and barely noticeable; the feel of his warm mouth clamped over her flesh overruled everything else.
The sensation of him drinking from her was not what Julia expected. Instead of taking long draws from her, he licked and sucked at her flesh with short pulls, like a series of passionate kisses. His hands were clamped on her thigh, his moans and growls an indication of the intense pleasure the act was giving him.
It was overpowering and had her on the verge of an orgasm. Again. The energy was slammed against a dam, ready to burst with the slightest touch. His mouth was so close to her sex, if he moved just a few inches he could relieve the pressure.
He didn't drink long, and when he finished with her blood, he turned to her sex, devouring her clit with the same short, sucking pulls he'd used to lap up her blood. Her orgasm exploded immediately, crashing through her body in a wave of contractions. His name escaped her lips somewhere among the moans of pleasure, and he increased his efforts, pushing her orgasm further and harder than she'd ever experienced, to the point where she finally had to pull back when the intensity became overwhelming.
His breathing was heavy and rough when he met her in a hard kiss. "God. Damn," he panted. "You taste amazing."
Her heart was thumping hard in her chest, and her toes were cold and numb. The tip of his cock was pressed gently against her thigh, and in spite of the fact that she still hadn't regained sensation in her limbs, she ached to have him inside her. "Fuck me."
He smiled. "I will. Just give me a minute to recover." He buried his face in her neck and rested the bulk of his weight on his forearms, his biceps knotted up like huge, mounding boulders.
"What's it like?" she wondered when her heart had resumed a normal pace, her breathing was actually getting oxygen into her lungs, and her feet no longer tingled.
He lifted his head from the crook of her neck to look at her. "What?"
"Drinking blood?"
"You've never?"
She was surprised by the question. After all, she wasn't the vampire. "No."
"Ah." Propping up on his elbow, he gently peeled hair away from her sweat soaked face. "It's like tasting someone's energy: drinking, absorbing, and experiencing their very soul. Blood is the essence of life. It makes us, links us." The words were spoken softly, and as they left his lips, the tiniest of smiles pulled at the corners. "Sharing it with another is the most intimate gift you can give." His multicolored eyes locked on hers, his usual intensity both captivating and demanding. "I'd love to share it with you now."
She was intrigued. All of her fantasies had centered on him drinking from her, not the other way around. "Really?"
"Absolutely." He moved to a kneeling position, pulling her up with him. Her head swooned at the change of position, and she swayed on her knees.
Armand retrieved a different blade than the one he'd used on her. It was a small, simple scalpel. Flipping the blade on himself, he drew a tiny line on his pec between his pierced nipple and the jowl of the sneering demon.
Blood instantly filled the crevice, and a line of red pooled on the smooth edge of the incision. A droplet finally escaped and slid down his pale skin. The color was luxurious, like deep red garnets. In the flickering candlelight, his blood glistened liked the faceted stones it resembled.
She leaned forward and gently caught it on her finger. With a questioning glance at Armand, she tentatively touched the finger to her tongue. The taste was familiar, metallic, and very slightly sweet. It reminded her of the many times she'd put her own cut finger in her mouth, and found that oddly reassuring.
Armand wa
s watching her hungrily, his eyes lusty beneath a furrowed brow. With more confidence, she placed one hand on the smooth contour of his pec, and the other on his muscled shoulder. Capturing a newly released blood droplet with her tongue, she traced its trail until her mouth covered the incision.
Following Armand's earlier example, Julia sucked gently, pulling more of the thick, warm liquid into her mouth. Armand moaned in response, every muscle in his body tensing. His blood tasted surprisingly good, and she continued, coaxing more of the fluid out with soft pulls of her tongue.
Straddling his thigh, her hand pressed firmly against his chest, she clutched his arm to keep him close. His body rocked with pleasure, his abs contracting in a ripple of muscle, his cock huge and erect. She wanted to run her hand down the length of his cock and stroke out the release he was so close to. Or better, she could just slip her leg over his other thigh, and ride him to climax while his blood seeped into her mouth.
"Julia." The whisper of her name rolling from his lips in that deep, decadent drawl sent a wave of pleasure through her body just as her sex brushed against the top of his leg. The light touch was enough to send another orgasm chasing the nerves up her spine.
Pulling her mouth from his chest, he forcefully met it with his, and sucked the last bit of blood from her lips. "I have to be inside you. Now."
"Yes," she breathed. "Please."
He kissed her one last time, hard and with just enough roughness to excite her even more. "Mmmmm, turn around." His voice was low and thick, his hands firm as they moved her into a kneeling position. She obeyed happily and without resistance, leaning forward and clasping the black, wood slatted headboard. It was refreshing to have a man take charge and actually be good at it.
Kneeling behind her, he raked his fingers down her back and over her hips, gripping at the soft flesh. Starting at the curve where her ass met her lower back, he kissed, licked and bit his way to her shoulders. Locking his fingers in her hair, he tilted her head, exposing the side of her neck and running his tongue over it.
"Bite me," she whispered.
He just groaned. Releasing her hair and resuming his grip on her hips, he slid his cock smoothly into her. She was more than ready, and her body accepted the length without resistance.
"God. Damn," he grunted.
He filled her perfectly, and every slow stroke lit millions of nerves on fire. She matched his rhythm, countering the motion with the rock of her hips. His thrusting intensified and he wrapped one arm around her chest, pulling her off the headboard and into his grasp. Pressing his cheek against the side of her head, his lips lingered at her ear, murmuring deep, throaty sighs.
Tilting her head, she exposed the side of her neck to him again. "Bite me," she repeated, pushing her hips harder into him.
She heard his mouth open, but he only tightened his grip on her chest, and deepened his thrusts.
Her pleasure was beginning to crest. She just needed one last thing. "Armand," she begged, "bite me."
"Fuck," he growled from somewhere deep in his chest.
The pain was intense but brief as his teeth sunk into her. It was completely forgotten as her orgasm crashed into his. She cried out as the pleasure consumed her and set her body on fire. It seemed to last hours, and by the time the ripples subsided, she was dizzy and light headed.
She could feel Armand's thumping heart against her back as she leaned heavily against the headboard for support. Everything felt perfect, his skin against hers, his spicy scent, the sound of his rapid breathing.
"Damnit! Julia, I'm so sorry."
"Hmmmm?" She felt drunk in the afterglow, and his words sounded fuzzy.
"I didn't mean to break the skin." He touched her neck with tender fingers. "Shit, you're bleeding."
"Mmmmmm. It's okay."
"No, it isn't," he insisted firmly. "And I was worried about losing control last night," he murmured with a hint of disgust. His fingers probed her neck. "At least it looks like I didn't do any permanent damage."
Her head was starting to de-fuzz. Barely. "Really, Armand, it's okay. I wanted you to."
"You said bite, not tear into you like some animal. Let me clean you up." He left the bed and her body felt frigid without the heat of his touch.
Julia sat back with a thump, putting the headboard and one of many soft pillows scattered on the bed behind her. She couldn't quite figure out why he was so upset over breaking the skin. He'd cut her earlier with a scalpel, how was this any different?
Unless, like the common vampire myth, vampirism could be spread through a bite.
So, did that make it a virus? Maybe she should just ask.
Except his face was lined with concern when he returned with a medical kit. There'd be time to ask later. She didn't want to upset him any more than he already was. It wasn't like she'd never considered what it would be like to actually become a vampire. There seemed to be quite a few perks. She might be willing to give up sunlight to enjoy them.
He shook some Betadine onto a square of cotton gauze, and carefully rubbed it over the marks. It stung and she bit her lip. Unfortunately, he noticed.
"Julia, I cannot apologize enough."
"Not necessary. It's totally okay."
After finishing with the Betadine, he tossed the used, rust colored gauze into a plastic bag. "No, it isn't."
He reached for a jar tucked into the medical kit, and she grabbed his arm. He looked at her, his frown lines deep. "Please, stop. This was a perfect evening. Everything was perfect."
"I hate losing control."
"Well, I loved it."
With a snort, he shook his head. Pulling out the jar and unscrewing the top, he dipped his fingers in the cream inside. Brushing her hair aside, he dabbed the cream on the marks. It felt cool and numbing.
"Alright. But next time, try not to be so damn tantalizing."
She liked the idea of there being another time. "I'll try," she said, planting a soft kiss on his cheek.
Spying her from the corner of his eyes, he unwrapped a square band-aid. "That might be impossible," he said, pressing the bandage against her neck. "Lie down, let me treat your leg."
She obeyed, surprised by how comfortable his bed felt and how tired she found herself. He rubbed a little bit of the cream on the small incision and covered it with another band-aid. She glanced at the tiny cut on his chest. The blood had stopped, and the wound looked like it was already closing up. "What about you?"
"I'm fine." Screwing the lid back on the jar, he returned it to the medical kit and set it aside.
She yawned. "Is it still storming?"
"Yes." He stretched along side her, wrapping an arm around her waist. His naked body felt so good next to hers. "It should pass in a few hours."
She turned into him and inhaled his perfect scent. "Hmmm, it can take all the time it wants if it means I can stay here." The drowsiness was beginning to overtake her. It became harder and harder to keep her eyes open.
He pressed his lips onto her forehead. "You're remarkable, you know that?" he said into her hair.
"Me?" she snorted weakly. "Please. You're the incredible one. I'm nothing special, just...me."
He pulled her closer. "I couldn't ask for more."
Nuzzling into his chest, she couldn't fight the warmth of his arms, the softness of his bed, or the darkness that was quickly consuming her.
Chapter Seventeen
Armand lay next to Julia for more than an hour, enjoying the feel of her silky skin and the gentle sounds of her breathing. He would have loved nothing more than to curl up and actually sleep with her, but while it might be midnight, to him it was essentially mid-afternoon.
It was shocking how good she felt in his arms. As drawn as he was to her, he supposed he shouldn't be surprised. It had been so long since he'd been truly intimate with a woman, he didn't realize how much he craved the connection. The contentedness he felt as a single man couldn't begin to compare to the satisfaction of having her next to him.
Outside
, the storm was beginning to taper. The rain was still a steady patter against the shutters, but the wind no longer screeched as it howled through cracks and crevices.
Murmuring softly, Julia nuzzled into his neck. Armand closed his eyes. The intensity of her touch was so overwhelming it was almost painful. He welcomed it, savored it. She could stay in his arms forever.
Faintly, he heard someone moving downstairs in the bar. The noise was barely discernable over the sounds of the fading storm outside, but that only made it more alarming. Whoever was down there was trying not to be discovered.
Gently lifting Julia off his arm, Armand eased from the bed. He paused long enough to slide on a pair of silk pajama pants before padding silently through his apartment, down the dark stairs, and into Luxure's back room. A flash light beam bounced off the bar walls, giving him just enough light to make his way though the neatly cluttered storage room in silence.
Armand stopped at the doorway that led into the bar, watching the movement in the room through the gape in the velvet curtains. Whoever it was, they were obviously scanning the bar. But if they were looking for something to steal, they weren't looking in the right place. The flashlight was focused on the walls of the club, scanning the perimeter and sliding past the bar entirely. It didn't make sense, unless...
He caught a glimpse the intruder's silhouette and rolled his eyes.
"What are you doing here?" he wondered as he shoved through the heavy fabric.
Slade almost dropped the flashlight as he jumped back startled, swinging the blinding light right into Armand's eyes. Armand threw a hand up to block the offending brightness, and Slade dropped the light from his face.
"Fuck, dude. You scared the shit out of me."
"I hadn't noticed."
Grabbing a book of matches from the napkin caddy, Armand struck a match and lit the candle he'd left on the bar earlier. Shaking out the flame, he tossed the blackened match in the sink. "So, what are you doing here?" he repeated.