A shiver of desire rippled over her skin as she turned off the bathroom light and made her way to the bed. It was what they called a California King, which meant she could easily have crawled in and never touched Vincent at all. But instead, she found herself moving all the way over to his side, pulling the covers over both of them and curling up next to him. And as her eyes closed, she dreamed about what it would be like to make love to a vampire.
VINCENT WOKE TO the warm press of woman against his side and the brush of silken hair over his skin.
He turned and scooped Lana against him, tucking her under his body, letting her feel the weight and heat of him as he nudged his knee between her thighs. Her arms circled his neck even before she was fully awake, her eyelids fluttering, her mouth opening to his with a sweet, hungry moan as she pulled his head down for a kiss.
Vincent swallowed the delectable little noises she was making as she arched against him, her tongue sliding into his mouth, sweeping over his swollen gums, tormenting him as he struggled to keep his fangs in check. He could still remember the dark honey taste of her blood, feel its slow glide down his throat when he’d taken her vein in that hot box of a prison. She’d offered herself to him then to save his life, but tonight, she would know the true carnal pleasure of his bite, would cry deliciously as heat and desire sped throughout her body, as her pussy squeezed around his cock until she screamed his name.
“Vincent,” she whispered and her eyes opened. “I was dreaming about you.”
“And what did you dream, querida?”
She undulated beneath him, the satin from her tiny shorts caressing his swollen cock as her breasts pushed against his chest, her nipples poking against the stretchy fabric of her shirt.
“This,” she said and met his gaze in bold demand.
Vincent’s smile was slow and confident. “I can do that,” he murmured, then stripped away her shorts, tearing them down to her thighs and leaving them there, trapping her legs together.
He stroked her body, skimming her breasts through her shirt, flattening his fingers over her belly and caressing along her hip to her thigh. Lana arched against his hand, her knees turning the satin shorts into binders as she tried to open her legs to his touch.
“Vincent,” she murmured fitfully, half pleading and half demanding that he free her. She twisted her fingers in his hair and tugged hard, punishing him. But he only smiled and slipped his hand between her thighs, dipping one finger into the creamy center of her sex. Lana moaned, straining against the binding satin as she thrust against his hand. She was so wet, so fucking hot. He added a second finger, plunging deep inside her, feeling the shiver of her inner walls as he began to fuck her, pressing the heel of his hand against her clit, rubbing back and forth as he thrust his fingers in and out, watching her thrash beneath him. He groaned at the sight of her breasts straining against her top, her nipples round and plump and enticing. Bending his head, he closed his mouth over her nipple through the fabric and sucked hard, until she cried out, until the fingers she had twisted in his hair were holding him against her breast, until her shirt was soaked and he could see the rosy outline of her areola. He closed his teeth over the swollen cone of her nipple and she cried out, her pussy clenching around his fingers as she came apart for him, her cries muffled as she bit her lip trying to be quiet.
Fuck that.
Vincent lifted his head to admire the dark rose circles of her nipples, swollen now into puffy points from his suckling. She was still breathing hard from her orgasm, her breasts moving up and down enticingly. His gaze traveled upward, lingering at the line of her engorged jugular, drawn to the drop of blood where her teeth had sunk into her lip as she bit back her screams.
Catching her gaze, he slowly removed his fingers from inside her, dragging them over her still-sensitive clit. His eyelids drooped heavily when she cried out, when her hips lifted against his fingers almost without volition, as if her body knew better than she did what it wanted, what it needed. Her gaze upon him was frantic, almost fearful, but she wasn’t afraid. Not of him, anyway. There was no scent of fear, only of arousal and desperation. She wasn’t afraid of what he would do, only of what he would make her feel.
He trailed his fingers, wet with her juices, over her bare belly, then raised them deliberately to his mouth, licking away the creamy taste of her, watching her pupils flare with desire.
“Delicious, querida.”
She blushed with embarrassment even as her pulse rocketed. Vincent lowered his head and touched her bloody mouth with his tongue, savoring that small sip of her blood as it mingled with the taste of her pussy already in his mouth. And then he kissed her, letting her taste herself as his tongue twisted with hers, making love to her with his kiss until she bucked beneath him, trying to kick her shorts off, wanting to spread her legs around him.
But he wasn’t ready for that yet.
She moaned in protest when he broke off their kiss, but he wanted to hear her scream his name the next time she came. There would be no more muffled cries, no more biting back her passion. He licked his way along her jaw to the delicate shell of her ear, felt her skin shiver as he teased his tongue inside, tracing the outline, biting the lobe, then kissing away the tiny pain. Her heart jumped against his chest when his mouth touched the swell of her vein, when his tongue followed the line of it from behind her ear, down along the curve of her neck. He could hear the rush of blood over the thump of her heartbeat, could smell the richness of it, could taste it on his tongue. He knew just what she would taste like, how her blood would slide like rich molasses down his throat and fuel his desire.
His gums split as his fangs emerged, a growl rumbling in his throat. It had been days since he’d last fed, days since Lana had given him her blood to strengthen him for the battle to come. If she’d been one of his regular lovers, his fangs would already be buried in her neck while he fucked her as hard as he could. But Lana was more than that, and she wasn’t accustomed to having a vampire lover. Not yet.
So he kept kissing and licking. Following her vein down to her chest, nibbling his way along the tender arch of her clavicle, baring her shoulder, and kissing the upper swell of her breast. Driven by the hunger in his veins, the frustration of her blood so close, he gripped the thin material of her top and ripped it apart, baring her breasts. Lana gasped, her heart pounding so loud it was all he could hear. He licked every inch of her silky skin, sucking almost her entire breast into his mouth, his tongue rasping over her nipple until it too was engorged with blood, pulsing in time with her heartbeat, begging for his bite. He closed his teeth over the swollen flesh, hard enough to leave his mark, but not to draw blood. Lana moaned softly, breathy little pleas murmured in time with the thrust of her hips against him.
Vincent gave her nipple a final rasping lick, then switched his mouth to her other breast and gave it the same attention. She cried out in frustration, her short nails scraping against his scalp, her entire body undulating beneath him.
“Vincent,” she breathed.
He lifted his head, meeting her gaze, her normally sparkling eyes hazy with need. “What do you want, Lana?” he asked, his own lust so great that he was unable to do much more than growl the words.
“You,” she whispered. “I want you.”
Vincent bared his teeth in a wolf’s grin. “You have me.”
He ripped away the satin shorts, spreading her legs wide as he cupped her ass in his hands and put his mouth to her pussy. Lana protested. She wanted his cock, not his mouth. But he wasn’t finished with her yet. She struggled to catch her breath, almost sobbing as he gave a long lick between her folds and over her clit, as his lips closed over that delicate pearl. He shut his eyes then, fighting against the urge to bite. There was no place more succulent on a woman’s body, no blood more luscious. She would scream if he bit her there. She would scream his name as she came so hard that she’
d pass out. But he needed to fuck her first.
He snarled a curse. Enough.
“Spread your legs,” he demanded, pushing his hips between her thighs when she didn’t move fast enough, bending her knees to her chest until she was bare and open to him. And then he fucked her. Grasping his cock in his fist, he placed it against the creamy heat of her sex and slammed deep into her body, gliding in easily with the wetness of her arousal, driven by the scent of her need, the clench of her sheath around him. She moaned as her body adjusted to him, her inner muscles trembling as they stretched to accommodate his size. But she didn’t wait. Instead, she lifted herself urgently to his thrusts, gripping his ass as their hips pounded against each other, skin slapping in their urgency, teeth and lips clashing as their mouths met in sudden, frantic need.
Vincent’s fangs scraped across her tongue, her teeth smashed into his lips, and their blood flowed and mingled. Lana cried out as his blood sparked along her nerves and her muscles tightened beneath him, her body shuddering as she was thrown almost instantly into another orgasm. Vincent fought against the overwhelming desire to taste her further, to sink his fangs into her neck, her thigh, her sex. He didn’t care. But instead, he fucked her, pounding his cock into her tight body, feeling her shiver all around him, her sheath rippling along his length, caressing him with a thousand fingers, squeezing and releasing, demanding that he surrender, that he fill her with heat of his own. Until finally, it was too much. His climax was a burning weight as his balls tightened until his release roared down his cock and boiled forth, filling her as she screamed his name.
LANA STROKED HER hands over Vincent’s shoulders and back, feeling the strength, the breadth of him. She was still trembling from her multiple orgasms. She wasn’t even sure how many. She’d never had to count before. Most of her lovers had barely managed the one. But not Vincent.
She’d known he would be like this. That he’d make love to every part of a woman’s body, that he’d leave her limp, her pussy shivering, still clenching with mini orgasms as his cock flexed deep inside her. That he’d leave her hungering for more.
He kissed the side of her neck, his tongue slipping out to taste her sweaty skin. Lana trembled in anticipation of his bite, tilting her head to one side and baring her neck to him in brazen invitation. She remembered what it felt like, the searing heat, the fire running through her veins and along her nerves. It had been beyond sensuous in the hot confines of the prison. She’d dreamed every day since then of what it would be like to have him bite her while he made love to her, while he was buried deep inside of her, his erection hard and thick, the power of his body pressing down on her as he thrust over and over.
Lana shuddered just thinking about it, and Vincent raised himself up on his elbows, lifting his weight off of her so he could see her face.
“Everything okay?”
She nodded, her throat too tight to speak as she searched his copper-flecked eyes, her fingers combing through the waves of his black hair, when abruptly she frowned. Why didn’t he bite her?
Without warning, he levered himself off the bed and walked over to the small refrigerator. Lana felt abruptly naked, her tank top in tatters, her shorts . . . somewhere. She got up and headed for the bathroom, not certain what she’d do there, only knowing she couldn’t lie on the bed like a rejected lover, one whose blood obviously wasn’t desirable unless he was trapped with no options.
Vincent caught her hand as she walked past him. “Lana?” he said, scowling as he tugged her to a stop. “What’s wrong?”
“Wrong? Why would anything be wrong?” she snapped, refusing to look at him. She tried to pull away, but his grip on her hand strengthened and he tugged her against his chest, his powerful arms coming around to hold her there.
“Tell me,” he demanded.
Lana gritted her teeth, refusing to give him the satisfaction.
“I can make you tell,” he murmured.
“But you won’t,” she replied smugly.
His arms tightened around her. “Don’t be so sure,” he growled. “A moment ago, you were screaming my name while your pussy squeezed my cock so hard I thought I’d lose it. What happened between now and then?”
“It’s not what happened,” she said, fighting uselessly against his hold. “It’s what d—” She shut her mouth before she made an even bigger fool of herself.
“What didn’t?” he guessed, too clever for his own good. “What didn’t happen, Lana?” he asked, sounding genuinely puzzled.
She pushed back enough to bite his arm, but he only laughed.
“You think biting will make me release you? I’m a vampire, querida. Biting only turns me on.” She could feel the truth of his words in the hard length of his shaft pressing against her belly.
“Well, at least one of us is using her teeth,” she snapped. And almost immediately, she wished she could take the words back as Vincent grew very still, his arms suddenly like iron bands.
“You want me to bite you?”
“Don’t put yourself out,” she snapped. “I’m not some pity—”
She never finished her sentence as Vincent fisted his fingers in her hair, yanked her head to one side, and sank his fangs into her vein. Lana’s entire body convulsed as she went from trembling in surprise to full-body orgasm in the space of a heartbeat. She cried out, gasping for air, her heart racing so hard that it was pounding on her lungs, stealing her breath. Vincent’s strong arms enclosed her, one around her neck, her jaw cupped in his hand as he held her still for his bite, his other around her waist, crushing her against his body, her feet barely touching the floor as she shuddered in wanton hunger.
Lana reached up and caressed the back of his head, threading her fingers through his long hair as she struggled not to pass out from the sheer, overwhelming pleasure suffusing every inch of her body.
“Vincent,” she whispered, clutching his shoulders, her nails digging into the thick muscles.
With a snarl, Vincent lifted his head, his fangs gleaming red with her blood. His muscles flexed as he swung her around and threw her face first onto the bed. Kneeling behind her, he gripped her hips in both hands and lifted her ass into the air. There was no finesse, no seduction. His thick fingers reached between her thighs and found her wet and ready for him, and then his cock was slamming into her, his hips slapping her ass as he went balls-deep with a single stroke.
Lana buried her head in her arms and hung on, her nerves still thrumming with arousal from his bite as he fucked her wildly, his growls punctuating every thrust, until he gripped her hair once more, and pulled her onto her knees. With her back pressed against his chest, he buried his fingers in her pussy and his fangs in her neck and they both came so hard she thought the room would break apart around them.
Lana cried Vincent’s name, over and over again, the euphoric in his bite shrieking along her nerves while his release filled her with heat until finally she couldn’t stand anymore and she screamed wordlessly.
The next thing she knew, Vincent’s tongue was wet and warm on her neck, and some vague memory told her he was sealing the puncture wounds. They were lying down, stretched out on the bed, her back still to Vincent’s front, but he was caressing her now, soothing her as she came down from the dual euphoria of having his bite and his cock. It was every bit as devastating as she’d dreamed it would be, and she didn’t think she’d ever be able to move again.
“Did I hurt you?” Vincent inquired quietly, and she heard the genuine concern in his voice. The worry.
She shook her head silently, reaching back to caress his jaw. “It was beautiful,” she whispered. “You’re beautiful.”
Vincent kissed the side of her neck. “That’s my line,” he murmured, smiling against her skin. “Besides, I’m supposed to be devastatingly handsome, not beautiful.”
Lana smiled. “Vain, too.”
&nbs
p; “Oh, absolutely.”
She laughed. “Do we have to move now? Because I’m not sure I can.”
“We can do whatever you want, but I’ve no objection to spending the night inside you.”
Lana shivered. She knew he meant it. “I’ll need food.”
“I can do that.”
“All night it is, then,” she breathed and turned into his kiss.
Chapter Seventeen
LANA WOKE BEFORE sunset the next night. She knew this because Vincent was still out and because a quick check of the sunset app on her cell phone confirmed she had several minutes before the sun went down. She slipped out of bed long enough to use the facilities and grab her laptop, then settled back in and logged on to the hotel’s Internet to check her mail while she waited. Her in-box had the usual junk, plus five new messages from Dave Harrington and one from her dad. She opened her dad’s and found nothing new. He still talked about Dave like he was the second coming and instructed her to meet up with Dave to finish whatever this assignment was that she’d taken on without telling anyone. He didn’t ask how it was going, didn’t ask if she needed help. Hell, the guys took on private jobs all the time, and he never complained. In fact, he thought it was a good thing—it kept them happy and flush when business was slow. But he obviously didn’t think the same way when it came to her. This attitude was why she hadn’t told him about the job for Raphael in the first place. She’d known what his reaction would be.
Vincent (Vampires in America Book 8) Page 27