We finally managed to push our way outside. The night air brushed soft kisses along my face, and I relished it.
So what if he was a witch? Witches didn’t taste any worse than humans.
The walk back to my apartment was quiet, his hand in mine, warm, soothing. I fetched the set of keys from my mailbox and let my victim in before me.
My hands slid up towards the light switch, but he stopped me with a hand on my shoulder.
“What?” I asked.
“Why bother with the lights? We both know why we’re here. You don’t have to pretend.” He shed his coat as the moonlight streamed in through the windows. “Why should we waste time that could be better used on other things?”
There was something about what he said that seemed eerily familiar, but for the life of me, I couldn’t place it.
“What’s your name?” It was the first time I ever asked someone their name without my lover of the night telling me first.
By this time, he was already starting to pull his shirt out of his pants.
“Again, I have to ask…why bother? As soon as this is done, you’re just going to leave me, aren’t you? So let’s call a spade a spade and just get what we both want, yes?” His voice muffled as he tugged the shirt over his head. “You’re a vampire. You want my blood. I’m a witch. I want your body. Simple as that. Isn’t that what you want?”
I stopped. “How the fuck did you know?”
“That this is just a one night stand?”
“No. Not that. About who I really am.” Tonight had been one of the few nights where I’d dressed sensibly with minimal skin exposure. I could’ve passed for a college girl headed to the library or something equally tame.
He pulled his head out from his shirt and grinned. “I took a wild stab. You’re pale, beautiful as Hell, and you trusted yourself enough to bring a guy home after having a ten second conversation with him. I figured you were either stupid or a vampire, and you didn’t strike me as the stupid type.”
“Oh.” Said that way, it did seem logical. “I see.”
It seemed easy. Too easy. Why was I so worried about this? Any other night I would’ve played this off, but there was something about this situation that just struck me as wrong.
But the scent of his pale skin, light and nearly indistinguishable, was impossible to ignore, and as hard as I tried, I couldn’t concentrate on anything else. Or maybe I didn’t try hard enough. No, it was more I didn’t want to try at all. So what if he knew? At least he was honest about what he wanted.
Yes.
I’d enjoy this. No more worrying.
Tomorrow, this would be over, wouldn’t it? He’d go back to his normal life, while I….
“Are you all right?” he asked, tossing his shirt to one side. “Not having second thoughts, are you?”
“No, I just—”
The moonlight played over his body, along the line of his back. For a moment, I lost the ability to speak.
I saw more muscles on other men, but he…was just right. The perfect combination between lean and muscular. Muscles are all fine and great, but too much can make a man look ridiculous. There has to be just enough fat so everything looks right.
His blond hair shimmered in the dark, and his hands moved down to the button of his pants. Even through the darkness, through the shadows, I knew he wanted me.
And I wanted him.
Badly.
“Come here,” he said.
I went to him.
CHAPTER FIVE
“Love cannot be replaced, nor bought, nor sold. Sure is a shame no one seems to know this…”
I wanted to bury myself in him, wanted to throw myself into him, and roll in his body, in his blood.
Skin hot under my hands, I trailed my fingers down his body to familiarize myself with his form. I kissed his shoulder, and he drew in a breath, shuddering under my touch. He tasted warm, soft, undeniably sweet, and I couldn’t get enough of him.
It was always this way, no matter who I was with. They fell for me, they grew addicted to me; there was no hiding it, but it worked the other way too. One could not possess without being possessed in turn. Even if I never knew their names, I always remembered the way they tasted—remembered the way their skin glistened in the moonlight like the purest of alabaster.
Cold air touched my back and legs, settling on my naked body like a chilly weight. His hand brushed down, raising goose bumps in its wake, and I could not wait.
Tugging him down to the floor, I straddled his hips and nuzzled my face in the warmth of his neck. His pulse beat sweetly under my tongue, and I buried my fingers in the thick softness of his hair.
“Please…please…,” he whispered.
His pulse beat faster and faster with a rhythm I tried to follow.
I couldn’t remember when taking blood had felt so…real, couldn’t remember a time when it hadn’t been wrong. To me, sex was the same as blood. I couldn’t stop using their bodies when I drank their blood. But with this man….
Perhaps I could finally stop associating one with the other. Maybe sex could be something more than just a means to an end.
I sank my teeth into his throat. The unbearable, intoxicating warmth of his red liquor filled my mouth, his arms closed around me, so close, so close, and for a moment, I thought, Ah…so this is how it feels to be embraced by a lover, by someone who is willing to give any and all to you.
His blood slid down my throat like the richest Bordeaux, and I fought the urge to take more than I needed.
In truth, vampires only need a pint or less in order to survive. Anything more and it’s just gorging. I never took more than I needed, but this man made me want more.
He cried out, and his hips pushed upwards. “Yes, yes, please, more,” he said, his voice hoarse, breathy. Something about it brought me up short.
He almost sounded…like Jamison.
I jerked back.
But the face that stared back at me, one contorted in pleasure, wasn’t the face I expected to see. The young man I picked up at the club still lay before me. So, what had I heard?
A pair of normal gray eyes focused on me.
“Why…did you…stop?” He swallowed and levered himself up on his elbows, breathing heavily as if he ran a mile.
Why did I think he was Jamison?
Trying to hide my discomposure, I smiled. “I know I’m probably going to sound stupid, but would you tell me your name?”
Why is knowing his name so important to me? Even if he is Jamison in disguise, he’s hardly going to stand up and admit it….
He cocked his head to one side, and a strand of gold glistened on the floor where his head had rested.
“My name’s Roane. Why? What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else….”
He laughed. “You know, most men would be kind of pissed if the woman they’re with confuses them with another guy. It’s a blow to our masculinity,” he said and sat up, rubbing his back. “Fuck. That was great and all, but there’s a reason why people prefer beds over floors.”
I stood up and stretched, feeling luxuriantly sated. His gaze wandered down my body and followed me as I slinked to the bed.
Damn.
I forgot to change the sheets. It had only been, what, four hours since I had that incident with Kieran? It felt like months ago.
He stood up. His warm hands settled on my shoulders.
“I think it’s time I got my part of the deal, don’t you think?” he asked. His quiet voice brought a slow grin to my lips.
I didn’t think it was humanly possible for a man to possess such a voice. It warmed me from the inside, and heat grew heavy inside of me, needy, dragging me down.
I shrugged off his hands and, grabbing the edge of the sheets, I tugged and completely stripped the bed.
“On a bare mattress?” he asked.
I reached up and pulled down the hangings on the canopy, the heap of black satin falling in the center of the bed. I turned around.
He still stood close, almost too close, and slight claustrophobia settled in me. Ignoring it, I tilted my head back and smiled.
“I’ve always wanted to be fucked in black,” I whispered.
His smile grew. “And so you shall.”
He pushed me back, and I fell in the nest of black satin, the fabric infinitely smooth against my skin.
Roane stared at me, his body ripe and full to bursting.
Wet, I seeped with the slithering dampness that his voice brought forth.
Just his voice….
“Hold on. If you move a finger, I swear to God, I’ll tie you to the bed and just leave you there,” he teased, a note of urgency in his voice.
I couldn’t have moved even if the Devil himself strolled through my door. Roane ruffled through his discarded clothes and brought out a pocketknife.
I had strange sexual tastes, but my tastes certainly didn’t run in that direction.
“Roane, I don’t think….”
The small blade flashed in the darkness before Roane buried it in the fabric just above my head. He cut a wide swathe and tossed the knife away.
He grinned. “Thought I was going to do you in, didn’t you?”
“You couldn’t kill me if you tried,” I said, rolling my eyes in mock exasperation.
He wound the length of black around his hands. “Raise your head.”
I did, and he tied the fabric around my head, masking my eyes. I heard his breathing and the beating of his heart as he straddled me. The bed dipped under his weight, and I sensed the warmth from his skin, but no part of him touched me.
“You are so fucking beautiful,” he breathed.
I did not say anything.
I wanted to say the same. But something stopped me.
He still did not touch me.
My body ached. I wanted to touch him. I needed to know he was there. I had to know I was not alone in this overwhelming darkness.
I reached out. He laughed softly, his voice alarmingly close to my ears.
“Not quite. You had your fun, and now I’ll have mine.”
The sound of rending cloth startled me, and his hands wrapped around my wrists, but only to tie them together.
Seeing only darkness, something about the secrecy made my wanting fiercer.
It seemed like hours we stayed in the dark. The silence hung low in my ears, buzzing in the incessant way it does when there’s an artificial quiet, a sound oddly like white noise.
He was right. I had my fun with him, had my release, and now it was fair he have his.
If only I wasn’t so…restless.
A cold sweat broke across my body. A chill blew on my stomach, and I shivered. Heat followed, and I knew it was not nature blowing, but Roane.
As if he had all the time in the world, he blew a trail upward from my belly, past my breasts, up to my collarbone…and stopped, leaving me shivering.
He inhaled before nipping my ear lobe.
I gasped and felt the smile on his lips as they made their way down to my neck, almost to the same place where I’d bitten him on his.
He bit, and while it did not break the skin, the bite still jolted. I screamed. He drew back and kissed me, kissed me as if trying to draw the breath out of my body, unlike any kiss I’d ever had. Irked, I could only receive it, couldn’t fully give back in return.
He pulled away, his tongue wet down my neck, between my breasts, encircling my navel before moving lower…lower…lower still….
I’ll go insane if this goes on any longer….
“Hurry. I need…I need…,” I managed to say, even those few words hard to utter.
Something wet and warm flicked against me in the most mind-numbing way, and I bit my lip to stop a cry trying to claw its way out.
“You taste like honey. That shouldn’t even be possible,” he said and repeated his tongue movements all over again.
I strained against my wrist bonds, exquisite pleasure building slowly but steadily through my body.
Again…again…again…his tongue drove my hips upward, and his arms clasped around my waist, pulling me securely against the very part of him that I was trying to escape—and yet push myself closer to at the same time.
I heard myself in the dark…small, pleading sounds that echoed through the room. Gasping, panting, sighing, crying…. Is that really me? Are these sounds really coming from my mouth?
Close…so close…my hands flexed in the makeshift rope, and I tried to keep my body from undulating under the lashing of his tongue.
His lips grew rough, and this time I could not stop a scream erupting. I wanted to rip the blindfold from my eyes, wanted to see if I affected him as badly as he affected me.
He nipped me, teasing me, and then sucked, strong, relentlessly, and I was lost. Release washed through me, and my body shook out of my control. My hips moved up of their own accord, and I threw my head back, screaming, wave after wave of numbing pleasure crashing from the place where he’d given one last lick before pulling away.
A pulse beat loudly in my head, and his breathing sounded a million miles away.
Limp, my body slack, I couldn’t even move a finger. He kissed me, mouth coated with my nectar, and I tasted the odd sweetness of it on my tongue.
“That was fun,” he whispered, his voice so low I barely heard him.
I responded with a slight movement of my bound hands, “Please....”
“Oh, I’m afraid not. I wouldn’t dare think of releasing you yet.” Clearly, someone was having far too much fun for their own good and it wasn’t him.
His body lingered over mine, his hardness pressing down, and a delicious, numbing ripple coursed through me for a few moments.
He took a deep breath and pushed inside me, inch by inch. I thought I’d die from the sheer pleasure of it all.
“Jesus....” His voice shook, and I savored knowing that I wasn’t the only one so affected.
A lot bigger and wider than I’d originally thought…. For a brief, afraid second I braced myself against pain. But my ill-founded worries dissipated; I’d grown wet, ready, and lay completely under the spell he wove.
Once fully inside me, we sighed.
“We...we fit,” I managed to say, my throat dry, as if I hadn’t drank anything for ages. He pulsed inside me, and every time he throbbed, I clenched around him. Did he notice that? No matter, I noticed, and I grew wetter still.
He swallowed.
“Whatever made you think that we wouldn’t fit?” He groaned the slightest bit, and just the sound of it made me hotter, tighter. “And if you keep on doing that, you’re going to really regret it.”
A grin curling my lips, I squeezed myself around him again, this time harder, drawing a deeper, louder cry from him. “Do what? Regret what?”
He sucked in a breath and shook. “That. And you’ll regret it, because if you do that again, I’m going to come. You sure you want it to end like that?”
I stopped squeezing, and he laughed, although none too steady. “That’s more like it.”
How long did we lay like that, connecting in the oldest way known to man? I don’t know, but he started to move, and I moved with him, my hips rolling. Can sex feel this natural? Can it feel this right? I tried to think back to the other men I’d fucked, but they didn’t come to mind; I couldn’t bring them to mind. Gone, dissipated into a thick cloud of smoke; the only person there was this man.
Has fucking always felt this...right?
Even the term ‘fucking’ seemed a crude and outright unnatural word for what we engaged in. There had to be a different way to phrase this.
Sex? Too scientific. Making love? Too romantic. Screwing? Too juvenile. Copulation? Too...religious.
But whatever it was, it had taken me by the neck—no going back.
Not anymore.
The pace increased, a staccato of thrusts, and my skin grew hotter and hotter, as if tiny fires had been lit under the surface and burned their way through. I long since abandoned any efforts t
o quiet myself and I didn’t care if the neighbors complained about the noise. If they only knew what I was getting, they’d weep with envy.
Over and over and over again he pushed into me, and all I could do was hang on.
The wave inside me rose higher and higher from the place it had subsided when Roane had gone down on me. This time, the tide seemed subtler, quieter, but no less urgent, no less tumultuous. His hips ground against me in languid circles that slowly killed me inside.
“Wait. Roane. Please. Untie me...please,” I begged.
His hands slipped under my hips and angled me up, brought me closer to him.
His voice hoarse, strained, he said, “No. No. Not until we’re done.”
I struggled to think up a retort, but in that instant he lunged into me, and everything completely whitened as he brought me over the edge, screaming.
Couldn’t think.
Couldn’t breathe.
Couldn’t stop the noises coming from my mouth.
I convulsed around him, my muscles squeezing so violently that it hurt.
He cried out as if he’d been struck, and I spasmed; he came inside me, deep, with so much force his body shook, and I couldn’t stand it…couldn’t stand it anymore.
I tried to wrench my hands out of the satin bindings. Impossible, though. He used his magic to further strengthen the hold, and I lay weak as a newborn.
I wanted, no, needed to touch him. To see him curved over me, head thrown back, the moonlight turning his blonde hair into an angelic white.
“Please...release me.” I tried not to sound as though I had been crying, for I had, the intensity of our coupling too much…too wonderful. “Please.”
He didn’t answer, and after a while, I thought, Has he passed out?
“Roane?”
“Wait. Just give me a minute. Goddamn, I feel like someone just sucked all the bones out of my body.”
I smiled, remembering just what I sucked out of him.
A short time passed, and then his hands touched my wrists. He whispered a word under his breath, and the satin bindings fell away as though made out of spider webs.
I frantically tugged at the blindfold. He stopped me.
“Hold on. Before you do that....”
Waiting for Darkness (Blood Martyr) Page 4