My heart pounded, and my mouth went dry. I lifted myself up to him, wanting more of his thumb, more of his fingers deep inside me, wanting even more connection. All my senses burst alive with need and desire.
“Do you like this?” he whispered, watching my face.
“No,” I groaned, “I really hate it. I’ll give you an hour to stop.” My pelvis lifted again.
He gave a wicked laugh and homed in on the perfect spot. “Let yourself go. Come for me.” His dazzling eyes sparkled in the dim light.
My body wanted nothing more than to do that very thing. Within seconds, any thought of frivolity drifted away, and I felt myself building toward peak. But part of me thought I should hold off, wait for him to roll over and fill me with the impressive erection straining against his stomach. Then he increased the pressure of his finger and all restraint was gone. I gasped as the orgasm crested, and it was impossible for me to stop the momentum.
He plunged his fingers in deep, his thumb circled me again, and I
was lost.
My muscles contracted, and I thrust myself against his finger, looking into his amazing eyes, seeing his light, his concern, his care. As if our energy fields had interwoven, the boundary between us disintegrated, and our spirits merged. All the incredible feelings were multiplied and deepened by each of us and sent back to the other.
He rubbed his hardness against my leg and groaned.
Rushes of pleasure surged up and down my body as his relentless fingers worked their magic. My heart pounded, my breath came in quick pants, and my hips spasmed as yet another powerful rush of excitement crashed through me.
After the radiating tremors subsided, he leaned down and took my mouth as deeply as his fingers had plunged into my body. I felt his heart beating fast, knew mine was thundering in time with his even as my body recovered from such bliss.
Reluctantly, slowly breaking our kiss, I circled his neck with limp arms and gazed into the unfathomable depths of his eyes, where I imagined it really was possible to see forever. Wanting to give back to him as much sensual pleasure as he’d given me, without warning him I clutched his upper arms and somehow flipped him over onto his back, reversing our positions.
“Wha—?” His eyebrows shot up, and his eyes went wide as he surveyed his unexpected new position. “Enhanced strength. Interesting.” He growled deep in his throat as I sprawled over his body. “It appears I am yours to command.”
“Oh yes, you are.” I angled my body, sliding off to lie on my side next to him. I wanted access to all the glorious vampire flesh formerly hidden underneath me. His eyes shining and his perfect face radiant in the glow of the candles, I skimmed my hands slowly across his chest before trailing my fingers down his tight midsection.
He gave a barely perceptible groan as I continued my southern journey, watching his face for cues on how to proceed.
When my seeking hand reached its destination, I curved my finger around the head, then wrapped my hand around it and stroked its length, enjoying the feel of the silky skin over the taut muscle.
He wove his fingers through my hair and held my head in place as he pulled me in and captured my lips with his. He thrust his tongue inside to dance with mine, moaning into my mouth as I stroked faster.
I raised up just enough to run my tongue over his lips and slid my finger through the warm liquid beading on the head of his penis. He gave a long groan and dropped his hands from my hair.
He mumbled words in that strange, exotic language he often used. Judging by the reflexive movements of his hips, whatever he was saying was some version of wahoo!
“This is wonderful”—his voice sounded strangled as he eased his fingers through my hair again—“but if you do not stop, I will not be able to restrain myself.”
I paused for the time it took to say, “Good,” then went back to driving him crazy with my hand. I cupped and caressed his sac and increased the friction with my fingers.
Feeling him building toward climax made my body vibrate with anticipation. My nipples felt hard enough to burst, and my clitoris ached. The more attention I lavished on him, the more my own body responded, returning me to a highly aroused state, growing wetter, needier.
He gasped, his hips bucking as he exploded.
I kept up the rhythm until I felt him shudder through all the aftershocks, then I let go of his erection and gave him an enthusiastic grin, my own body shivering with a mini-orgasm in response to his.
He caressed my hair and pulled me close, pressing his lips to mine as he wrapped his arms tenderly around me.
The kiss became deeper, slower, and our tongues danced together in sensual movements. I threaded my fingers through his glossy hair, loving the scent and the feel of him. I felt him harden against my abdomen, and my body bucked involuntarily. Yes, please!
He rolled us over, aligning me underneath him, and used his knee to spread my legs wider. His erection nudged against my opening.
I ran my hands up and down his back and cupped his ass, pressing him close to my heat. I wanted nothing more than to feel him inside me.
His lips on mine, he pushed slowly into me, and we groaned our pleasure into each other’s mouths. At last. I let out a heartfelt sigh of relief even as he whispered, “So hot. So wet. All mine.”
I lifted my legs and wrapped them around his waist, tilting my hips to take him deeper.
With a smooth motion, he filled me.
Nothing had ever felt better.
He began thrusting, and I matched his rhythm, clutching his back with my fingers as rising tension crawled through my body, and I felt the stirrings of a powerful orgasm. He released my lips and raised his head. “Will you allow me to take your blood, my love?”
Just those words sent me close to the edge. I remembered how it felt when he fed while we had sex. I closed my eyes and whispered, “Yes,” eager for his fangs to pierce my neck, my clitoris throbbing in agreement between us.
His warm breath raked my skin a second before he pressed his sharp incisors into my vein. I gasped and tightened my legs around his waist, contracting the muscles of my vagina in time with his tempo.
Heat radiated from both points of contact, sending ecstatic rushes along my neural pathways. My skin tingled, and my toes literally curled.
“Yes, yes, yes …” I pulled him tighter against me, wanting our physical bodies to melt into each other as his thrusts intensified and I felt myself ready to implode.
He sucked harder and groaned.
“Now, Devereux. Now—” My orgasm detonated through my body so forcefully I screamed and grabbed his hair.
He lifted his mouth, coated with my blood, and pressed his lips against mine as he spasmed inside me.
We clung to each other, hips jerking, tongues exploring until the last wave diminished and I collapsed, limp, underneath him. My arms and legs were useless, my heart racing. Still shuddering with aftershocks, the bliss I’d known only with him stole through me and rendered my over-practical therapist’s mind senseless with satiation.
No matter what happened in the future between Devereux and me, for this moment, everything felt just right.
Chapter 25
Anne had done a great job of rescheduling my clients while I recovered. She’d eased me into my routine gently, setting up only a few human clients for my first day back. She’d make a pretty good secretary if she wasn’t dedicated to finding another king to bedazzle.
As darkness fell, I began arranging the office chairs in a circle for the Monday night Fear of Fangs group. All six members were due tonight. No doubt they’d have lots of questions about the events at Dracul’s suburban home, and we would spend most of the session time talking about Devereux’s heroic handling of both insane monsters. According to Anne, Devereux had reclaimed his title of Lord High Supreme Vampire Grand Wazoo—metaphorically speaking, of course. I wasn’t sure how much discussion I wanted to have regarding my own part in the surreal tableau.
I’d just lined up the last seat when
the Pooh-Bah himself popped in.
Usually fond of leather, tonight he was wearing a handsome midnight-blue European-cut suit over a silver shirt and a tie featuring several shades of blue, black, and silver. Stunning. His light-blond hair was pulled into a long, shining ponytail at the base of his neck.
“Hey! What are you doing here?” I looked at the clock. “You know I have a group tonight, and if they see you, they’ll swarm all over you, and we won’t get any therapeutic work done!”
He smiled wide, glided sensually to where I stood, scooped me up into his arms, and thought us out of my office.
“Devereux—I can’t leave. I have clients coming!”
“Just for a moment. I wish to show you something.”
We rematerialized in the living room of my town house.
He wrapped me in his arms and pressed his lips against mine, softly at first, then with increasing passion. We must have lip-locked for a good five minutes.
I melted.
“Oh. My. God,” I said when we reluctantly pulled apart. “If there’s something more you want to show me, I don’t know if my heart can take it.”
He grinned. “No. That was it. For now.”
“Really? You whisked me away from my office just so you could kiss me?”
“Yes.”
“Well, okay, that works for me. Now what?”
He kissed me again.
My knees buckled, and he tightened his grip on me.
And I’d been worried about whether or not I’d still be attracted to him after his influence on my brain was gone.
We finally broke the kiss, and he lifted me into his arms again.
“We had better return to your office. I believe you have a group.” He winked and sent us soaring through space into the hallway outside my office.
I noticed he was awfully playful tonight.
“Why did you bring us out here in the hall?”
“I do not know.” He opened the waiting-room door, took my elbow, and walked me inside.
“You don’t know? What’s going on, Devereux? You’re acting weird.”
“Weird?” He opened the office door and we stepped into a dark room. I could’ve sworn there were lights burning before we left.
“Surprise!” The overhead lights flashed on.
Devereux nudged me ahead of him.
My office was filled with vampires—vampire clients, that is. Lots of them.
I covered my mouth with my hands. I really was surprised. And a little nervous. This many vampires could be extremely unpredictable.
“Hey, doll—er, I mean, Doctor Knight.” Chain hurried over, wearing his usual baggy jeans and Harley leather jacket. And his chains, of course. “We wanted to throw a little surprise celebration to welcome you back after you almost died.”
“Yeah, Doctor Knight,” Lucille said, crossing herself. “We heard you were actually dead. They even buried you, and you resurrected. They said the Master had his head ripped off.” She’d gone back to her usual mode of dress: a tight micro-mini, a too-small red bustier, and hair so big it must have taken an entire can of hairspray to erect it. In honor of the occasion, she’d layered on extra-long false eyelashes, one of which had started to come loose at the corner of her eye. She didn’t notice.
“Come on, Lucille,” Chain said, grabbing her breast. “Let’s go mingle and give the doc a chance to check out the guest list.”
“Okay,” she said. “We’ll be back in a minute, Doctor Knight. We’re so glad you didn’t die.”
Me, too.
“Thanks, Lucille, Chain.”
“Oh my God. The Master’s here,” Dennis said, staring at Devereux with his eyes wide.
“The Master’s here,” Walter repeated, clutching Dennis’s arm.
Devereux moved in front of me, lifted my hand, and kissed it. “I agreed to steal you away for a few minutes so your clients could enter your office. I hope you will forgive the small subterfuge. My choice of activity was purely selfish.” He grinned. “I will leave now, so that everyone can feel comfortable and have a good time. May I see you after the gathering?”
I hugged him. “Yes. Thank you.”
He gave a quick bow and vanished.
“Oh no! The Master’s gone,” Dennis said.
“The Master’s gone,” Walter echoed.
“Doctor Knight! Doctor Knight! I want you to meet Wanda!” Nicky raced over, pulling a short, ample red-haired woman by the hand. She was wearing a uniform from a well-known Mexican fast-food restaurant. “This is Wanda, Doctor Knight. Isn’t she beautiful?”
“Hello, Nicky. It’s nice to meet you, Wanda.”
“Same here, Doctor Knight. Nicky talks about you all the time.” She looked at Nicky, who had wrapped himself around her. “Nicky, could you give the doctor and me a minute to talk alone?”
He pouted, but reluctantly let go of her. “Okay. I’ll go and look out of the window and chew on myself.”
Great.
She waited until Nicky walked away, then grabbed my arm. “Doctor, you’ve got to help me.” She let go of me. “He won’t go away—I’ve been trying to get him to move out for years, but he’s too afraid to make the change. Please! As you can see”—she pointed to her clothing—“I have a career. I work the night shift, and I’m up for a promotion to taco-maker. That’s a very important position. I’m so stressed out all the time about Nicky’s neediness that I’m afraid I’ll lose my job.”
Oh, geez. So Nicky hasn’t been leveling with me.
“I’m sorry you’re feeling so stressed, Wanda. What would you like me to do?”
“Hi, Doctor Knight. I got rid of all my dead bodies—even the cats. But it’s so hard. I miss them. I had a small relapse yesterday and Eleanor got so mad—”
“Hey, buddy, I’m talking to the doc. Beat it,” Wanda said, shoving Marvin aside.
Marvin, who had a fear of being touched, screamed at the top of his lungs.
“What’s wrong? Are you all right, Doctor Knight?” Apollo, my very first vampire client, rushed over. He’d made great progress in his ability to deal with the sight of blood. “Why is he screaming?”
Everyone in the room closed in.
“I’ll get more chains, Doctor Knight. We’ll take care of this.”
“We’re gonna die, we’re gonna die—” Dennis wailed.
Medina, who hadn’t completely grown her leg back since diving off a skyscraper, hobbled over on crutches. “Who’s going to die? I want to die—”
“I can’t breathe in here,” Betty said, dramatically resting the back of her hand on her forehead. “Someone open a window—”
“Everything’s okay, Betty,” I said. “You really don’t need to breathe.”
“Doctor, Marvin brought home another body yesterday. Can I talk to you privately?”
“Let’s make an appointment, Eleanor—”
“Hey! I’m standin’ right here! Don’t push in front of me. I need to talk to the doc.” Wanda, who appeared to have quite a bit of muscle under the padding, started pushing everyone away from me.
Walter and Dennis jumped up and down, slapping themselves on the head, as was their habit.
All at once, vampires started punching and kicking one another. Arms and legs flailed. Blood dripped and spewed from cuts, scrapes, and amputated limbs.
As I backed away, I saw Wanda leap into the air and throw herself down like a professional wrestler on top of Eleanor, who surprised me by holding her own against the much larger taco-maker.
I backed into the waiting room and listened to the carnage.
“Are you all right?” Devereux asked.
I started. “What are you doing here? I thought you left.”
“I thought I should check back in a few minutes. I had no idea Chain was going to invite quite so many vampires. And Nicky’s friend Wanda seemed especially … energetic. I can see I was right.”
“I know they meant well.”
“Yes, they did. Would you like to leave now?”
“Leave? But they’re trashing my office.”
“Never fear.” Devereux glanced off to the side for a moment, and several vampires dressed in Crypt security black leather popped into the hallway. “Take them all home, then arrange for the office to be thoroughly cleaned.”
The men—er, vampires—in black rushed into my office, grabbed two or three fighting vampires each, and disappeared. Within a minute, the office was empty.
Beautiful silence.
“It appears you have finished work early, my love. What shall we do to celebrate?”
“I know just the thing.”
Epilogue
February really is the dreariest month, even in the magical Rocky Mountains. Despite the fact that we had a couple of seventy-five-degree days last week, when Denver inhabitants donned shorts and T-shirts, and sunbathed on roofs, now the front range is socked-in by low clouds, impending snow, and below-zero temperatures. But still, there’s no place quite like Colorado.
After all the events of early January, it took me a couple of weeks to sort myself out and to begin to feel somewhat normal again—well, as normal as someone who counsels the undead, drinks the blood of ancient vampires, has stellar sex with a master bloodsucker, and communicates with ghosts can feel.
Thankfully, my unexpected vacation left no permanent scars on my private practice. It’s as busy as ever. Many human clients told me they appreciated the “chatty” call they got from my answering service representative. I shudder to think what Anne Boleyn might have “chatted” about, so I didn’t ask, and nobody volunteered the information. I imagine I could ask her, but she and I have created a connection of sorts, and I wouldn’t want her to think I don’t trust her. Even though she’d be the first to acknowledge that she’s usually less than trustworthy. But is any vampire?
To my surprise, Anne asked recently if she could come to see me as a therapist. With my new ability to sense vampires’ emotions, I got the clear hint that, rather than coming for actual therapy, she thought it would be amusing to shock me with tales of her wild life—not that I can really be shocked anymore. Well, never say never. But perhaps underneath her quest for a good time is a need to be listened to—who knows? Maybe we’ll try a session or two and see how it goes. I hear she’s been visiting a certain European monarch’s castle late at night, teaching the twentysomething grandson her own version of the Kama Sutra.
Blood Therapy (Kismet Knight, Ph.D., Vampire Psychologist) Page 37