Vampire's Thirst (The Awakening Series)

by Cynthia Garner

  “If it helps, Atticus came to see me.” Aodhán ran his broad hands up and down her back, slow, heated strokes that comforted and brought the tingling beginnings of arousal at the same time. “He told me what you’d be feeling. It’s okay.”

  Natalie stared up at him. In what world could it possibly be okay? Oh, right. In a world of a zombie apocalypse, where up was down and wrong was right. “You’re sure?” she asked. “’Cause if the situation were reversed, I’m not so certain I’d be as magnanimous.”

  He brushed a kiss across her lips. “Did you fall in love with him?” His eyes held hers.

  She shook her head. “No. He’s a friend, that’s all.”

  “Then it’s okay.”

  She searched his features and saw only love and acceptance. With a sigh she leaned into him, resting her cheek against his hard chest. Amazingly, her yearnings for the vampire began to fade as a fire of a different sort began burning. She lifted her head and looked into his face, licking her suddenly dry lips.

  With a low groan, he bent his head and set his mouth on hers. The feel of his firm yet soft lips was as arousing as the first time he’d kissed her. She moaned into his mouth and closed her eyes, pressing closer against him, moving her mouth under his, parting her lips for the sweep of his tongue into her mouth. He tasted so good, so right.

  His lips left hers to explore her jaw, the slope of her neck, the hollow of her throat. She shifted, sliding her hands over his back, slowly rocking her hips against his, feeling his cock harden against her belly. His muscles tensed, his hands tightening at her waist, pulling her even closer. He went back to her lips and plundered them as if determined to make a meal of her mouth.

  Natalie moaned and tangled her fingers in Aodhán’s hair, moving her lips against his, thrusting her tongue into his mouth, demanding more. After a few minutes he gentled and rested his forehead against hers. His chest rose and fell heavily, and once his breathing had settled, he said, “You’re addictive, you know that? I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.” He adjusted his stance and dropped his mouth onto hers again.

  He slid his arms around her, one at her waist and the other tugging her hips closer. She tilted her head into his kiss and arched her back to press her breasts against his chest. When a low groan, almost a growl, came from his throat, she lifted one leg and wrapped it around his narrow hip, pressing her jeans-covered sex against his hardening groin. He stroked his hand from her hip to her ass, cupping her, holding her tightly to him.

  Her belly tightened, her core clenching with need. With another growling groan, Aodhán scooped her up and placed her gently on the sofa. He stroked long, elegant fingers down her cheek. “I need to taste you, mo chroí, need to lick your sweet honey. Will you let me?”

  Her breath caught in her throat. No man had ever asked permission to go down on her before. Not that she had all that much experience, but the little she did have had been of the stick a tongue in, swirl it around a little, and call it good variety, and it had only been so the man could say he’d given her foreplay before he did what he really was focused on, which was getting his cock some action. She somehow knew that Aodhán was different, that his only thought was focused on her. At the thought of him putting his mouth, his tongue, on her there… Slick heat bloomed in the folds between her thighs. “Oh, God, Aodhán.” She traced a finger over his jaw and lingered on his full bottom lip. “Please.”

  His clear blue eyes darkened with passion. “May I undress you?” At her nod, he gently removed her shoes and socks, his fingers lingering a moment on her feet before he lifted her torso and pulled her shirt over her head. He paused, his hands on her shoulders, as he looked down at her breasts, the upper slopes bared by her leopard-print demi-bra.

  Her face went hot. “Just because it’s a zombie apocalypse doesn’t mean a woman can’t wear sexy underwear,” she muttered.

  A grin flashed over his face. “I like it very much, mo chroí. I stopped to admire the view.” He worked the front clasp loose and gently pushed the cups aside. “Beautiful,” he whispered. “Like a work of art.” He pressed her back against the cushions of the sofa and brought his mouth to her breast. She felt the swipe of his tongue as he drew one nipple to a hard point, then the other. “I’ll spend time here later,” he promised in a low, dark voice. “But I need to taste you now. I want to feel you come on my mouth.”

  His strong hands went to the button on her jeans. He flipped it open, then carefully slid her zipper down. She lifted her hips and let him tug off her jeans and panties.

  With his gaze zeroed in on her feminine flesh, a muscle leaped in his jaw and his nostrils flared. “I can smell your arousal,” he murmured, and dipped his head closer. He lifted her left leg so it rested against the back of the sofa and draped her right leg over his shoulder. He placed one hand just below her belly button and with the other spread the swollen lips of her sex. His hot tongue quickly followed.

  As he flicked his tongue against her clit, her head fell back and she moaned. “Oh, God, Aodhán. That feels so good.”

  He shifted his weight, wedging her thighs farther apart with his broad shoulders, like he was getting comfortable, like he planned to stay right where he was for a while. His tongue slid down to stroke inside her sheath a few moments before going back to her clit where his lapping became much more purposeful. He suckled her clit gently at first, then with harder suction. Carnal delight shivered up her spine. When he slipped one thick finger inside her, she flexed her hips, helpless to stop the reflexive motion.

  His movements were slow and steady, teasing her, taunting her with what was to come. He added another finger and twisted his hand so it was palm up. Still sucking on her clit, he strummed his fingers back and forth, building a wild pressure. She gasped and moaned as the sensation increased, the tension in her body building to an unbearable tightness. Yet the wave of pleasure kept rising.

  “You’re so tight on my fingers, mo chroí. So wet and hot.” He crooked his fingers in a come-hither motion, rubbing against that spot that made her legs jerk in reaction. “Come for me, Natalie,” he urged.

  Like a rubber band breaking after being stretched too taut, her body found sweet release and she came in a tidal wave of wanton bliss. She screamed and his fingers continued to stroke as she came in a slick tide of completion.

  His tongue replaced his fingers and he lapped at her juices. With each lingering pulse of her orgasm, her hips flexed against his mouth, driving his tongue deeper. She tried to catch her breath, shuddering on an aftershock when he slid his tongue into her pussy one last time.

  She’d had no idea the lengths to which a man like Aodhán would go to please a woman. To please her. She could have had this with him for the last six months or so. Why had she fought her attraction so hard?

  “I love you,” he said, his cheek pressed against her mound.

  She glanced down and saw his erection pressing against the placket of his leather pants. She struggled to sit up, frowning when he put a big hand on her chest and kept her in place. “Aodhán, let me return the favor.”

  He shook her head, his face moving against her skin. “Not necessary. This was all about you. For you.” His eyes closed and he drew in a deep breath. “Just let me stay here for a bit. I’ve finally come home.”

  Natalie bit her lip and fought back tears. She’d seen Aodhán fierce, playful, irreverent, and now gentle and so sweet she wanted to wrap herself around him and never let go.

  Maybe there was a future for them, after all.

  Or…maybe not. Maybe there really wasn’t a future for any of them.

  Chapter Nine

  Kimber came awake slowly to the sensation of a warm, wet tongue stroking between the folds of her sex and strong fingers tugging and pinching her hardened nipples beneath the soft T-shirt she wore. She moaned and spread her legs farther apart. “What a hell of a way to wake up,” she whispered, reaching down to tangle her fingers in Duncan’s silky hair. She glanced toward the window and realiz
ed night had fallen, as there was very little light coming in from around the curtains. Several candles burned on the bedside table, making her wonder just how long he’d been awake. Long enough to get her motor revving, that was for sure.

  That was the best sleep she’d had in a week, and she knew it was because Duncan had been with her, his body against hers, while they’d rested.

  “It came to me, as I lay here watching you sleep, that I’ve been neglectful this past week.” He pressed his lips to her inner thigh. “I’d like to say it had nothing to do with what you did to Atticus, but I’d be lying.” His shoulders bunched with tension. “Couple that with the elevated aggression that seems to be riding you…” He trailed off and kissed her thigh again. “I’m sorry, baby. It wasn’t well done of me.” Regret colored his deep tones.

  Her heart eased. She’d been so afraid that he’d been pulling away from her. Maybe he had, but at least he’d recognized it and had realized what he was doing. She sifted his hair through her fingers. “I promise you, I will never deliberately hurt you. And I’ll do my best to not let what happened to Atticus happen to anyone else. You have my word.” She gave a light tug on his hair. “Now come up here and kiss me.”

  “And here I thought I was kissing you.” His lips moved up her thigh to pause next to her mound.

  “My lips. Kiss my lips.” And before he could say the smart-ass thing she knew he was going to, she added a little testily, “The lips on my face, fang boy.”

  His deep chuckle rolled over her, delighting her with his playfulness. But when he lifted his head and she saw the green of his irises shot through with vampire silver, glittering in the candlelight, her core rippled with renewed heat. “Come up here,” she insisted, her entire body catching fire for him.

  “By your command.” He came up over her, muscles bunching and flexing. When he slanted his lips over hers, she tasted her own essence and it ratcheted her arousal up another notch. His tongue swept inside her mouth to duel with hers, twining, sliding, rubbing.

  “I want you inside me,” she moaned. Curling her legs around his hips, she reached down and grasped his erection to position it at the entrance to her channel.

  His breath hissed between his teeth. “God, I love your hands on me.” He broke her hold on him long enough to sweep the T-shirt over her head, letting it drop to the floor beside the bed. As her hand went back to his cock, he rocked his hips forward and slid the head inside her opening. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his eyes dark with passion but full of love. He draped one of her legs over a brawny forearm, bracing his weight with his palm flat against the mattress, and pressed the palm of his other hand against her mound just above her clit. He pushed into her, his jaw tense. “You’re so tight, so hot, it’s going to kill me someday.” He dipped his head and kissed her. “But what a way to go.”

  Kimber clutched his heavy biceps. His cock was hard and yet silky, filling her so completely with his thickness. “Give it to me,” she demanded, tightening her grip on his arms.

  Duncan looked down, still holding her thigh over his right forearm. He ran a fingertip through her slick folds and slid it over her clit before beginning to rock his hips in a slow, sensuous rhythm, feeding more and more of his cock into her sheath until his balls finally slapped against the curve of her buttocks. He paused, his face dark and taut. “Are you all right?”

  “Better than all right,” she assured him. Then she frowned. “But I won’t be for long if you don’t start moving, mister.”

  His grin delighted her soul. “Yes, ma’am.” He let her leg fall to the bed and grasped her hips. He tilted her to him in a way that created an amazing friction on her clit and hit that sensitive spot inside her that made her moan every time his cock slid over it. Dear. God. In. Heaven. “Harder!” she cried. Her arousal spiraled ever tighter, taking her higher and higher, closer and closer to a free fall.

  He pulled back and thrust in, harder and faster with every stroke. Every muscle in her body tensed, her back bowed as his hips pistoned back and forth. When he moved one hand between their bodies and rubbed her clit, she flew apart, the tension in her body shattering into a million pieces. She screamed as she came, barely aware of his final thrust and his deep voice joining hers in a shout as he found his own release. He held her tightly to him and ground his hips against hers, sending her into a wave of aftershocks, and all she could do was gasp and moan and hold on to him when he leaned down and fit his fangs to her throat.

  The tug of his mouth on her skin as he drank from her neck brought on another orgasm, not as strong as the first one but just as powerful emotionally. She felt his tongue lick over her wounds; then he rested his face against her shoulder.

  As the sensual storm passed, she tried to catch her breath. She curled her hands around his nape, running her fingers through his hair. He rose up to look down at her. His face was relaxed, his eyes once again a normal green. “I love you,” he whispered, and pressed his lips to the corner of her mouth. Muscles bunched as he gathered her in his arms and rolled them over so she was on top, their intimate connection unbroken.

  “I love you, too. So much.” Still breathing hard, she laid her head on his shoulder and stroked her fingers through the smattering of dark hair on his chest. His hand smoothed over her head in a gesture so tender it brought a rush of tears to her eyes. Damn pregnancy hormones. After a few seconds, she asked, “Duncan?”

  “Hmmm?”

  She licked her lips. “Why did you introduce me to Xavier as your very good friend?”

  He shifted his weight beneath her but his arms didn’t loosen, holding her against him. “I didn’t know what else to say. Girlfriend seems inadequate and even juvenile, and lover makes it sound like you’re my mistress, and that’s not how I see you at all.” His shrug moved her cheek up and down. “So I went with very good friend.”

  “Oh.” She thought it over and understood his reasoning. Of course, if he’d just ask her to marry him, he could introduce her as his fiancée. But maybe he wasn’t ready to take that step yet. She certainly wasn’t brazen enough to ask him. There were many things she was brave enough to do—kill zombies and fight vampires without a moment’s hesitation. But ask a man to marry her? No way.

  What if he said no?

  They lay like that in silence for several minutes, Duncan continuing to brush his hands up and down her back. “This is nice,” he finally said, his voice soft in the stillness of the room. He lifted his hips, driving his softening cock into her heat. “I could stay like this forever.”

  “Wouldn’t get much work done.” She closed her eyes on a satiated but sleepy sigh.

  His low chuckle caused his chest to reverberate against her. “No, I suppose we wouldn’t.” His hands kept moving, stroking her skin, leaving tingling awareness in their wake. “I’m sorry I was so distant this week, sweetheart. More sorry than I can say.”

  She tilted her head up to look at him. “Apology accepted. Now let’s forget about it. Life’s too short. We’re here together now, loving each other, so there can’t be any regrets.” She pressed her lips to his chest, feeling the hardness of muscle beneath hair-roughened skin. “I love you.”

  She felt the touch of his mouth on the top of her head. “There’s no one else for me but you, Kimber. You captured my heart the moment we met.” Another chuckle moved the chest beneath her. “Though you did lead me on quite the chase.”

  “Only until you caught me.”

  “Hmm.” He tilted her chin and kissed her lips. It was a sweet kiss, one full of affection. It moved her as much as his passion had.

  She felt tears start again and ducked her chin to rest her head against his shoulder. She knew she would love this man forever. Like him, she’d be content to lie here like this with him until the end of time.

  Except her stomach had other ideas.

  Out of nowhere came a roll of nausea so potent Kimber jerked upright. Her eyes wide against the urge, she vaulted out of the bed and barely made it to the ba
throom in time. As she hung over the toilet and prayed for death, she became aware of Duncan kneeling behind her, holding her hair away from her face, one big hand smoothing up and down her back. Just when she thought she was finished, another wave hit her. Her back bowed and she gripped the rounded edge of the bowl.

  She flushed and rested there a minute, just to be sure. When she started to gather her feet beneath her, he put his hand under her elbow and helped her up. She rinsed out her mouth and brushed her teeth for good measure. The worst of the nausea seemed to have passed, though her stomach still felt a little unsettled.

  “Are you all right?” Duncan stood behind her, one hand outstretched as if he were ready to support her if she needed it.

  Tell him, her conscience prodded. “Must have been something I ate,” she said with a shrug. When she told him about the baby, she didn’t want it to be right after she’d practically chucked up a lung in front of him. She wanted to be more in control, feel even a little bit sexy, not like a squeezed, worn-out dishrag.

  She took a shaky step toward the bedroom. With a soft curse, he swept her into his arms and carried her back to bed. Once she was settled between the sheets, he sat down beside her. “Why don’t you rest a while longer?” he suggested, brushing her hair away from her forehead. He cupped her cheek and brushed his thumb over her lower lip. “I’ve been thinking about your proposition with the practice zombies, and I’d like to talk with you and the other necromancers more about it. Do you think you’ll be up to meeting in two hours?”

  “Of course.” She sat up against the headboard and clutched the sheet over her breasts. It was more than being self-conscious about him seeing her naked breasts. Already with the pregnancy they were changing, becoming fuller, the nipples larger and more sensitive. She didn’t want him finding out about the baby by guessing, but she’d tell him when she was ready. And she wasn’t ready yet.

  It was like she had a Good Kimber and a Naughty Kimber riding on her shoulders, one adamant that she should tell him and one equally opposed. And right now, she was going to listen to Naughty Kimber.