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Delilah Devlin - Sm{B}itten (Night Fall #1)

Page 7

by Unknown


  With spit on the tip of his finger, he slid his hand between them and rubbed the slippery nubbin.

  Her movements grew jerky before stopping altogether. “Please,” she said. “Take over. I can’t move.”

  Before she could blink, he rolled her to her back and hooked his arms beneath her knees, pressing them up and outward, spreading her wide. He planted his hands on either side of her and pumped his hips, cramming his cock as deep as he could get, then pulling out with a circling motions of his hips, before driving straight back inside.

  Emmy’s head thrashed on the pillow, her moans strangled behind gritted teeth.

  Dylan leaned down to kiss her.

  Her eyes flew open. She returned the kiss, enthusiasm making her kiss wet and sloppy.

  He laughed and lowered his head again to lap at her lips. When he withdrew, she gripped her hands in his hair to pull him back. This time her mouth sealed over his, and her tongue stabbed inside his mouth.

  Now muted by their joined mouths, moans sounded from deep inside her throat and came with each panted breath.

  He ended the kiss and leaned back. “Scream for me, Emmy.”

  Chapter Seven

  ‡

  At his urging, Emmy couldn’t hold back another second. She dug her fingers harder into his hair and pulled. “Come with me,” she said, her voice tight. And then she whimpered. The experience was too much. He was too much—Mr. Stamina. Too hard and lean and beautiful. His lovemaking was astounding and—something she never thought she’d admit—too strenuous. She panted like she’d run laps, something she’d never ever do.

  He shook his head and continued the deep thrusts that pounded against the gate of her womb. Buried to the hilt, he ground his pubic hair against her clitoris until she was so sensitive to the scrape, she thought she might come out of her skin. And she was right effing there, could feel the tension wind tighter in her core.

  But she wanted him with her. This one last time, she needed the whole enchilada. “Baby…bite me.”

  He stopped. His arms grew rigid and his nostrils flared. “Don’t move,” he said, his voice holding a note of desperation.

  “I want you, Dylan. All of you.”

  “Dammit! Emmy, do you even know what you’re asking?”

  “For you to trust me to be strong?” She lifted her hands to his cheeks. “Do you think I haven’t seen your other face?”

  His entire body shuddered, and he closed his eyes. “Then watch,” he whispered.

  Breathless with curiosity and a tinge of fear, she held still beneath him. His eyes opened—not the dark orbs she knew were green—but glowing circles that reflected the waning moonlight, like an animal’s. The better to see me.

  His cheekbones lifted, popping and cracking as his face reassembled into the monster mask, his skin stretched tight around it. His lips curved above teeth that slid over his human set, long and razor sharp, the longest at the four corners of his smile. The better to eat me.

  The most miraculous part of the transformation was the muscle that grew rigid and strained beneath his skin, stretching him outward, turning the arms that held her knees to stone. And his cock was one of those muscles hardening and enlarging, pushing deeper without a flex of his hips. The better to fuck me.

  A low growl rattled in his throat, and for a moment, Emmy had doubts she was really ready for this. Something was wild and primal about that growl. But then his tongue, longer, rougher, swiped along her throat. Her skin grew numb. She relaxed. He’d considered her comfort—part of the man was still inside the monster. Angling her head to the side, she held her breath.

  His teeth sank slowly into her neck, burning at first, then he drew, sucking her blood, and pure sensual heat spread from her neck, moving downward and tightening her breasts and belly.

  His enlarged cock pushed inside her, pulled out, and pushed again. His thrusts were so powerful her buttocks left the bed with each stroke. Still, he kept a steady rhythm that soon had her wishing he’d move faster, harder, rougher. And she told him so.

  He growled in response—the Big Bad Wolf buried between her legs, and she reveled in the power to make him lose control and be the beast for her.

  That she could inspire the beast in any man was a revelation.

  Her hands sought his shaggy hair again, and she pulled, knowing the ache intensified the thrill. His cock stretched her, cramming inside her, hurting—wonderfully.

  Then the low rumble in his throat grew louder, vibrating against her throat, and come shot into her, hot and messy.

  “Dylan!” she screamed, her release rolling over her in scorching waves.

  He released her legs, and she wound them around his waist, holding him tightly while her pussy milked him. When the last contraction shook her, she let her hands fall to the pillow beside her head. She couldn’t move a muscle. His passion had devoured her.

  *

  Emmy woke to find herself draped over Dylan like a quilt, his breath lifting the hair next to her ear. She raised her head. Gone was her beast. Dylan’s handsome face, slack with pleasant dreams, reflected the light of dawn creeping around the edge of the thick curtains.

  She fitted her lips to his and kissed him, but he didn’t move. If not for his shallow breath, she would have worried. Vampires, it seemed, really did sleep like the dead.

  Too bad. Smashed against his chest, her tits ached for a little play. No morning nookie was a definite downside to vampire boyfriends.

  With a sigh, Emmy climbed out of bed and turned to draw the covers over him. Slowly, of course. She allowed herself one last peek. He’d never know how hard she fought the urge to crawl back beneath the covers. But she was realistic enough to know this had been a one-night stand. The longer she lingered, the harder it would be for her to leave with any grace. Dylan wasn’t for the likes of her. He was gorgeous—she was ordinary.

  And he’s a vampire.

  She knew he’d object to her leaving because he was a gallant man and saw himself as her protector, but she had to face her problems on her own. If she stayed, she risked her heart.

  Gathering her clothes, she washed quickly and dressed in the bathroom, and then called a taxi from the phone next to the light switch. She washed her teeth with a glob of toothpaste on her finger and did her best to smooth her bed-hair. She leaned into the bathroom mirror to check her neck. Miraculously, he hadn’t left a mark.

  She wished she could have lingered to bathe in the large whirlpool tub. Navy tile, chrome fixtures, and green plants in front of an ice block exterior wall made her wish for a long leisurely scented bath. She could easily picture the two of them making love among the bubbles.

  “Get a grip.” Chiding herself for longing for something she could never have, Emmy left the bathroom and headed down the stairs to the front door.

  Her hand was on the doorknob, ready to pull it open, when the patter of multiple feet skittered across the threshold outside. She peeked out one of the narrow windows flanking the front door.

  Several dogs pressed their noses to the glass. Big macho dogs with drooling jowls. One smashed his face to the glass and barked so loud it rattled the pane. She jumped and flattened her back to the door.

  A honk sounded in the distance, and Emmy realized the taxi had arrived. “Shit!” At this rate, she’d never make it to work.

  “I see you met the pets,” a familiar laconic voice startled her. The blonde man—Dylan’s friend—sat in the shadows of the cavernous living room. And he was stirring. Must not be a vampire.

  “Um,” she said, kicking herself for how witty that had not sounded. “Do you know what to do with them? Will they bite me if I go outside?”

  “Little girl, they will ravage you.” Only the way he’d said ravage didn’t increase her fear of the dogs. He had to be a vampire. And a smart-ass one.

  “Are you one, too?” she asked, ready to risk dismemberment outside. After all, she had only assumed Dylan and he were friends.

  “One?” he asked, with a lift of
one finely arched brow.

  “A bloodsucker.” She rolled her eyes. “Of course, you are. You’re all arrogant as hell.” Curiosity spurred her to ask, “How is it that you’re awake. Dylan’s sleeping so soundly, I didn’t wake him when I left.”

  White teeth and lips curved into a devilish grin. “Did you exhaust our Dylan?”

  Emmy blushed, and then frowned at him to show her irritation at his lack of tact.

  He shrugged. “I haven’t slept yet. When I do, I’ll fall into a deep, dreamless state, same as Dylan.”

  He spoiled the bored dilettante act with a long yawn. “Are you going to let me out of here?” she asked, sure her taxi would leave her.

  By the distant sound of their barks, the dogs had moved from the porch to the gate.

  Quentin walked toward her on bare feet. Taller than Dylan by an inch or two, he was too pretty for Emmy’s newly acquired taste. She wondered if her theory about their “proportions” would hold true, but didn’t dare drop her gaze down the sharp-eyed man’s body.

  “You know,” he said, stopping only inches away, “you’d be better off far away from here.”

  “Well, thanks for the advice, but I have a job,” she said, raising her chin to show she wasn’t the least bit intimidated. “And I like Seattle. You know, green, mossy, rain-every-fucking-day Seattle.”

  His grin was gleeful. “A like-spirited girl. Does Dylan know you hate this place?”

  “I don’t exactly hate it—the climate makes my hair frizz. And no, we never discussed it.” And they never would. She was leaving. If the handsome devil here would cooperate a little.

  He grimaced and hunched his shoulders to stretch first one side, then the other. “Damn, I shouldn’t have stayed so long in that chair.”

  So vampires could have backaches. That cheered her.

  “He wants you to stay here, you know. It’s safer.”

  Emmy shrugged. “It doesn’t look like you guys can get around very well in the daytime. I think I’m pretty safe.”

  He studied her for a moment, and then he nodded. “All right, then. I’ll bring the dogs into the garage until you leave.”

  “Thank you.”

  His gaze bored into hers. “Just remember to be inside and behind a locked door tonight. Better yet, come back here before dusk.”

  “Sure,” she said, knowing she’d never come back for that kind of heartache.

  “I mean it.” His blue eyes softened, and he touched her cheek. “Be somewhere safe when darkness falls.”

  “I will,” she promised, her mouth dry.

  He walked past her on bare feet and disappeared down a hallway. Soon, she heard the dogs whine excitedly and run toward the side of the house.

  With a last glance toward the hallway, she let herself out of the front door, sorry she hadn’t had a chance to tell Dylan goodbye.

  *

  After returning home to change, Emmy was late for work. And the day only got worse.

  Work dragged. The lack of sleep the night before left her muzzy-headed. Numbers blurred. She snapped at a co-worker. Her fingers fumbled and hit the wrong keys. Errors inside errors appeared in much of what she entered all day.

  Frustrated after reentering a long column of numbers, she decided to close down her computer and leave.

  Worse than putting in a rotten day’s work, she’d been grumpy all day. Mad at herself for not having the courage to grab for the gusto. She’d gone back and forth, debating whether she should risk her heart and go after her bad boy vampire, or save herself the heartache and run now.

  Leaving her office in the back of the store, she walked through Ladies Garments, where a cloud of warring perfume made her head ache. In Housewares, a saleswoman who normally staffed the children’s section looked bored as she helped a customer choose a blender.

  Emmy waited patiently. She’d been worried all day about Monica. Her friend hadn’t shown up for her shift, and she hadn’t answered her calls. Ever an optimist, Emmy hoped Dylan was wrong about her friend.

  The saleswoman finished with her customer and walked toward her. “Still haven’t heard a thing. Are you going over to her place to make sure everything’s okay?”

  Emmy bit her bottom lip. Dylan would spank her ass if he knew what she intended. A thrill spiraled in her belly at the thought. “I’m headed there now.”

  Emmy drove the short distance to Monica’s apartment, noting with a healthy dose of worry that the sun was already slipping behind the horizon. Dylan had to be wrong about Monica. Even if Monica were a bloodsucker, she wouldn’t harm her best friend.

  Emmy had to know for sure what had happened. For all she knew, Monica might be injured and in need of help. Or maybe she’d been forced to conspire with Nicky. Maybe Emmy’s eyes had been playing tricks on her the previous evening. Maybe Monica had played a joke by dressing up in a vampire’s mask. The act was something free-spirited Monica would do.

  Besides, everything about last night seemed like a dream. Too frightening to believe. Perhaps, she’d been caught up in some sort of mass hysteria without the damn “mass.”

  Hell, if not for the pleasant ache between her legs, she might have convinced herself Dylan had been a dream.

  Using a spare key, she let herself into the apartment. Nothing looked out of place. Or at least nothing more than usual. Monica was a slob. Keeping the door open in case she needed to make a quick escape, she stepped deeper into the apartment. “Monica?” she called out.

  No response. She walked deeper into the apartment and headed down the hallway toward the bedroom. A part of Emmy was relieved to see Monica stretched across the bed, her hair in disarray, still wearing the same tank and jeans she’d worn the previous evening. Remembering Dylan’s warning, Emmy picked up a red spiked heel from the floor and walked toward the bed. “Monica?”

  Monica’s head lifted from the mattress. “Em? That you?” Her voice sounded raspy. But normal. A red line marked her face—an imprint from the wrinkled sheet. Monica’s gaze dropped to the shoe in Emmy’s hand. “Are you here to borrow my heels?”

  That bit of normalcy eased Emmy’s apprehension a bit, and she stepped closer. “Are you all right? I was worried when you didn’t come to work today.”

  Monica rubbed a hand across her face and murmured, “I should have called in. After you left, the Halloween party was hellacious. I didn’t get in until the wee hours.”

  Emmy plopped down on the bed beside her, relieved to talk to her friend. “You’re not kidding. You wouldn’t believe the things that happened to me last night.”

  “You mean tall, dark and horny?” Monica’s gaze brimmed with mischief. “I saw him carry you away. You didn’t put up much of a fight, so I left you to it.”

  Emmy blushed and gave her friend a sideways glance. “What about you and Nicky?”

  Monica moaned and rolled onto her side. “There’s something about vampire cock.”

  “You know?”

  “I had the bites to show it.”

  Emmy chewed on the inside of her lip, before blurting, “Dylan said Nicky’s dangerous.”

  “Yeah.” Monica’s expression grew sly. “He is. And he’s an amazing fuck.”

  Determined to set her friend straight, but floundering for a way not to make him more appealing to Monica’s adrenaline addiction, Emmy asked, “How did you meet him?”

  “I stopped for gas on my way home from work yesterday. When I went into the store, he had a little shop girl up against the wall.”

  Wow, that’s blunt. “Screwing?”

  “No. Killing,” she said matter-of-factly.

  So coldly in fact that a chill trickled down Emmy’s spine. Heart in her throat, she jerked to her feet, but Monica’s hand wrapped around her wrist, tight as a manacle. “Monica?” she asked, very afraid she’d made a terrible mistake.

  Monica’s grip tightened as she slid off the bed. “Sorry, Em. Nicky wants to see you again.”

  Emmy winced against the pain and tried to pull her hand fre
e. She didn’t know whether to look for an escape or to keep staring into Monica’s dull eyes. “Let me go.”

  “No can do. He’ll be here shortly.” Her voice roughened and her face transformed into the bony mask of the night before. She flung back her head, shaking out her long brown hair. “Oh, much better. Nicky’s smart. He knew you’d come looking for me.”

  Emmy raised the shoe with her free hand. “Monica, you don’t want to do this. We’re friends.”

  “But what are friends for, Emmaline?” She grinned, revealing a row of shiny jagged teeth. “What are you going to do now? Stab me in the heart with my Jimmy Choos? Don’t make me angry.”

  The last sentence was spoken in such a guttural growl Emmy’s heart skittered then raced. Emmy swung the spiked heel at Monica’s face.

  With a howl, Monica released her wrist and raised her arms to cover her head.

  Emmy pummeled her with the shoe, driving her back, until Monica’s legs met the edge of the mattress and she fell. Emmy threw the shoe at her face and bolted for the hallway, making it to the living room before Monica barreled into her back. The wind whooshed from her lungs, and she struggled, breathless, to flip off the heavy weight.

  Monica climbed up her body until she lay draped over Emmy. Her nose snuffled against Emmy’s neck. “Do you think he’ll mind if I take a little bite?”

  With her face pressed to the carpet, Emmy thought fast. Monica was growing heavier and stronger. Emmy feared what that meant. “What does Nicky do to people who disobey his commands?”

  “He dusts them.” Her tongue laved the corner of Emmy’s shoulder, nosing away the collar of her blouse.

  Emmy lifted her shoulder to cut off her friend’s access to her neck. “Think, Monica. Did he want me whole? What did he say?”

  Her weight shifted back a few inches, and Monica groaned. “Can’t remember.”

  Knowing Dylan’s mental faculties were impaired in his vampire state, Emmy injected a calm she wasn’t feeling into her voice. “Will Nicky be angry with you, Monica?”

 

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