She was different now, but…not. And he loved her as much now as he ever had. Maybe more.
His life had been hell over the past months, and if it didn’t work out with them this time…he didn’t really want to think about where he’d be.
So, he supposed it was time for that conversation they should’ve had months ago. “What are you—”
“I’ve asked pretty much everyone for advice on how to talk to you, how to make things right between us.”
In the distant recesses of his brain it made him sad that she had to ask for advice about how to talk to him, but with her straddling him and only a few layers of cotton and denim between them, he wasn’t sure his brain was in any condition to feel any particular way about…anything, really.
“And what did everyone tell you to do?” he asked, surprised he actually managed to sound so coherent.
She watched him through lowered lashes and licked her lips. “Well, Harper said I should bend you to my will. Force you to listen, then take what I want.”
“So, loot and pillage, huh?” That seemed perfectly Harper-esque. “Not a terrible plan.”
She laughed, which made her braless breasts jiggle, throwing off his concentration once again. “Unless the person you’re trying to pillage is much, much stronger than you.”
You might be surprised. He certainly wasn’t feeling very strong at the moment.
“Benny’s advice was the simplest.”
How could it be anything but? “And what did Benny advise you to do?”
Mischa bit her lip, looking embarrassed. “Show you my boobs.”
He barked out a surprised laugh and silently took back any uncharitable thoughts he’d ever had about Harper’s little halfer friend. “I’ve always liked Benny.”
She smiled, then lowered her lashes again. “Vi suggested we have a grown-up conversation. Maybe try a few of her psychology tricks.”
Hunter had grown up in a time before psychology even existed. To say he was skeptical of its benefits was an understatement. But, it was Dr. Marchand’s advice that had convinced Mischa to jump into his lap, so he supposed he shouldn’t argue too much. “What kind of psychology tricks?”
“We take turns with ‘I like it when’ and ‘I don’t like it when’ statements.”
Seemed harmless enough. He shrugged. “Sure. Why not? Although, I don’t think we should rule out Benny’s advice all together.”
She surprised him by whipping off her shirt and tossing it across the room. “His idea isn’t entirely without merit,” she said with a nervous chuckle, “and I’ll take whatever advantage I can get.”
He couldn’t hold back his groan. Benny’s plan was genius, because Mischa had perfect breasts, and Hunter found that he was absolutely powerless against them. He’d give her anything she wanted in that moment. His heart, his body, the world…whatever. It didn’t matter. If she wanted it, it was hers.
He could almost span her entire ribcage with his hands. She arched into him as he skated his thumbs over her nipples, which immediately hardened. “And we’re going to talk…like this?”
She just smiled at him.
He swallowed hard. “I’d say this…gives you a huge advantage.”
She tipped her head to the side, studying him. “Well, Vi said I needed to stop running. I certainly can’t run while I’m on your lap. Topless.”
If he was still human, he’d be sweating right now, expending every bit of energy and strength he had to keep from tossing her over his shoulder and carrying her to bed. “OK, so who goes first?”
She glanced around. “We’re supposed to have something to hold, first. Whoever is holding the…thing we choose…is the only one allowed to speak. Vi had some kind of ‘talking stick’ in her office, but I don’t have anything like that. It could theoretically be anything, I guess. Anything that fits in your hand.”
Hunter raised a brow at her questioningly and palmed her breast.
Her brows flat-lined. “Really?” she asked dryly. “I thought you were an ancient vampire, not a twelve-year-old boy.”
He shrugged again. “If your breast is the talking stick, it’ll make it even harder for you to run away.”
Mischa frowned at him and he stared back at her, as guilelessly as he could manage. She eventually rolled her eyes and smacked his hand away. “Fine. But I’m going first.”
She cupped her breast and said, “I don’t like it when you…aren’t with me.”
He didn’t waste any time replacing her hand with his own before murmuring, “I don’t like it when you aren’t with me, either.”
She closed her eyes for a moment and laid her hand over his before he could pull it away. “You leave this one here,” she whispered. “I have two. We’ll just make the left one the talking stick from now on.”
He would’ve laughed if he wasn’t so damned turned on. And with that, she cupped her other breast and said, “I like it that…no matter how confused and twisted and fucked up I am, you’re still here.” She shook her head, tears glistening in her eyes. “I like it that…after all the horrible things I said to you after you turned me, you forgave me, and even took a bullet to protect me. Again. I like it that…you’re the best man—vampire or human—that I’ve ever known.”
There it was, he thought. That vulnerability again. She was speaking from her heart, something she almost never did. It was damned beautiful and damned humbling that she let him see this side of her.
Hunter held her gaze as he took her hand, turned it over slowly, and kissed the heart of her palm before laying it in her lap and taking the “talking stick” from her. He now cupped both breasts, and he damn near swallowed his tongue when she arched slightly, pushing her hardened nipples into his palms.
He cleared his throat and said, “I like it that you…are the strongest, smartest, most selfless woman I’ve ever known. I don’t like it when you…doubt you’re everything I’ve ever wanted in this world.”
She blinked furiously, trying to blink away her tears, and laid both her hands over his on her breasts. “I don’t like… knowing you could have anyone and not understanding why you chose me.”
OK, psychology games are done. “You don’t understand why I chose you?”
She shook her head and bit her lip before saying, “The…not understanding is what made me run after you turned me. I guess, even in the beginning, I always thought you’d eventually leave me.”
His brow furrowed. “Why on earth would you think that?”
“Because I’m me and you’re you,” she said. “I’ve never been the girl that gets a guy like you. I was the smart girl in high school. The girl boy’s cheated off of in math class, not the one they dated.”
Now he was well and truly confused. “What do you mean a ‘guy like you’? I never went to school a day in my life. They didn’t even have schools in Lakota territory in 1492. If you knew how to hunt and fish and fight, you were good.”
She sighed and lowered her head. “I’m messing this all up again. I’m just trying to say that I didn’t understand then, but now I understand that no matter what I do, no matter how messed up I am or who else out there might be better for you, you’ll always be here for me. For someone like me, that’s huge.” Her voice broke and she shook her head impatiently before adding, “So huge.”
Someone like me. Someone who was accustomed to being alone, abandoned, and misunderstood, he knew immediately. God, she was breaking his heart.
“I was wrong to run from you,” she added. “And if I had it all to do over again, I would do everything different. I would’ve never let you go.”
He didn’t have to look into her mind to see the truth in words. It was written all over her face, in those expressive, bottomless dark eyes. Want spiked through his body. Everything he’d ever needed was within reach. All he had to do was grab for it.
Hunter leaned forward and captured her mouth with his for a quick, hard kiss. “I think we’ve probably talked enough for a while, don’t you?”
Her eyes fluttered shut. “Oh, thank God.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
The first time Hunter had kissed her all those years ago, she’d been so shocked and panicked she hadn’t really been able to enjoy how he felt, how he tasted.
Now she could appreciate that he tasted like heat and strength and heaven and sex all wrapped up in one muscular-but-not-bulky, narrow-hipped, sinfully perfect package.
And it didn’t matter that they’d kissed hundreds of times since that first time. It only took a mere whisper of his lips against hers to send a jolt of heat through her entire body. And right now? She felt like she had lava running through her veins instead of blood.
They made out and groped on the couch for what felt like hours, and she was more turned on than she’d ever been. It felt so perfect. So right.
Her hips rocked restlessly until she was riding against the hard ridge of his erection, the material of her panties and his jeans causing an absurdly delicious friction against her already-soaked flesh. Could he feel it? she wondered. The heat and wetness? She hoped so. Surely that spoke more eloquently to how much she wanted him than any words ever could.
God knew her words were never that eloquent.
His mouth slid down her neck and he bent to capture her nipple in his mouth. She gasped, then moaned at the tug of his lips, the swipe of his tongue. The empty ache between her legs intensified until it was within kissing distance of pain.
“Let’s go to bed.” His voice was low, rough, and she felt the words vibrate through every erogenous zone on her body. And as she was quickly learning, she had more of those than she originally thought.
Mischa practically leapt from his lap in her haste to get to the bedroom. The thought of feeling every inch of his flawless, caramel-colored skin against hers…
She shivered, then grabbed his hand, yanking him up off the couch to drag him to her bed.
Halfway there, in the middle of her hallway, he stopped. She groaned, glancing over her shoulder at him. “You’re not going to change your mind, are you?”
But he looked like he hadn’t even heard her. His dark gaze was taking a leisurely journey up her calves and thighs, lingering for a good long time on her cotton-clad backside, before trailing up her spine, across her shoulders.
She felt the weight of that gaze on every inch of her skin. Every. Inch.
“God, just look at this view,” he murmured, awed.
His voice had a gravelly edge to it that made her gut—and a few other choice parts of her anatomy—clench with need.
“Put your hands on the wall.”
The scent of lust in the air—his and hers—all around them intensified, erotic and ripe. Normally she would’ve questioned the request (demand, really), but at the moment, she was open to whatever he had planned, as long as it ended with him buried deep inside her.
She flattened her palms against the wall and gasped as he nudged her legs apart with his knee.
“Don’t move,” he whispered in her ear, his voice practically brimming with primal male satisfaction at the thought of having her at his carnal mercy.
He skated his fingers down her spine, over the curves of her ass, up over her ribs before moving to stand close behind her, mouth against her ear.
He combed his fingers through her hair, pushing it back away from her face. Oh, please touch me, she begged silently. Then, miraculously, he cupped her breasts.
She tipped her head back against his chest and moaned as he caressed her. He moved one hand lower, along the soft cotton band of her underwear, then lower still. It was his turn to moan when he discovered just how wet and ready for him she was.
Mischa pressed her hips against his hand in silent plea, and he gave her exactly what she wanted.
His fingers moved beneath her panties, and she edged her legs further apart so he could slide a finger through her slick folds.
“Yes,” she murmured as he curled his other hand around her breast, rubbing his thumb over her nipple. “God, yes.”
He leaned forward and kissed her neck right below her ear, a spot that never failed to make her shiver, and slid his finger inside her as he pressed his erection against her backside.
She bucked wildly against his hand, against his erection, and still he kept his rhythm deliberately, tortuously slow.
“Come now,” he growled, lightly nipping at her ear lobe.
She shook her head, trembling harder, and he pressed a second finger inside her, rubbing his palm downward. She arched, crying out his name, and she felt her entire body tensing, bracing for orgasm.
“Can you feel how hard I am for you? How hard you make me?” He punctuated the question by pressing her back against his erection.
She moaned out something that might’ve been a “yes.” She wasn’t sure. She wasn’t exactly coherent at the moment.
He must’ve approved of her answer, because he decided to answer her unspoken prayers, thrusting his fingers into her harder, faster, until her entire body jerked against him, and she let out a gasping cry before sagging against him, completely limp.
He had to wrap his arms around her in a tight hug to keep her upright. “Are you okay?” he whispered in her ear.
She shuddered again before mumbling something completely unintelligible. He gently caught her ear lobe between his teeth and tugged. “Ready for round two?”
That got her attention. She looked up and over her shoulder at him. “Already?”
He laughed out loud at what must’ve been a look of stunned surprise in her wide eyes. “One of the best perks of being with a vampire, if you’ll remember correctly, is stamina. And guess what?”
“What?” she whispered, still processing.
“You’re a vampire now, too. Your stamina is just as good as mine. So, are you ready for round two?”
Oh. My. God.
She smiled at him, and his answering smile put the dawn to shame. “Bring it on,” she challenged.
And with that, he tossed her over his shoulder caveman-style and strode purposefully toward her bedroom.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Hunter tossed her on the mattress without preamble. She sprawled back on the bed, limbs visibly trembling with aftershocks from her orgasms, and shot him a slightly disgruntled look at being manhandled in such a way. Her expression darkened with lust and awe, though, as he quickly stripped off his pants and stared down at her, hands on hips.
If they both lived to be a thousand—which was, of course, a possibility—he’d never get over how pretty she was. Her curves, the smooth, golden skin, the deep, dark eyes, the little bow-shaped mouth…she was as close to heavenly perfection as he imagined he’d ever see. He knew in that moment he’d never get enough of her.
On all fours, he crawled over her until he reached her hips. The scent of their arousal—his and hers—mingled in the air, creating an intoxicating perfume that nearly drove him mad with the need to be inside her.
But not yet. Soon, though. This time when she came, he’d be buried balls-deep in her tight, wet heat.
He kissed her hip, the dip of her waist, moving up her ribcage with slow, gentle sweeps of his tongue. The soft, mewling little sounds of pleasure she made spurred him on.
She choked back a desperate moan as he traced the edge of her panties with his tongue.
“So beautiful,” he murmured against her skin. “I lost hours, days, in prison thinking of nothing but this.”
She wiggled desperately underneath him, and a moment later, her panties went flying across the room. “Please,” she choked out. “Don’t make me wait anymore.”
He lifted his head and smiled up at her. “As you wish.”
***
The Princess Bride quotes were going to be the death of her. That is, if the slow, painful torture of waiting for him to be inside her didn’t kill her first.
Finally, finally, he moved up, settling himself between her legs. It only took a second for him to begin sliding into her, slowly, eyes locked
on hers.
The need to feel him filling her was more than she could stand. She raised her hips and looped her arms around his neck, urging him forward. Desperately she rocked against him, taking inch after inch of him until he was fully seated within her.
For a long moment, neither of them moved, just held themselves still, eyes locked on one another. Mischa suddenly felt bare, vulnerable. With him inside her, his eyes focused so intently on hers, there was nowhere to hide. Nowhere left to run. And for the first time in her life, she was happy to stay put.
He began to move, slower than she’d expected, but his face was beginning to show the strain of his efforts to hold back, to make it last for her sake.
“How can you feel better than I remember every time I’m with you?” he muttered, capturing her lips for another deep, wet kiss.
Goosebumps broke out along her flesh—hey, I didn’t even know vampires got those!—as she rose to meet him halfway. With a growl, he slipped his hands under her butt and lifted so he could go deeper, each stroke putting the most delicious pressure on her clitoris.
Their moans melded, tongues tangled, bodies clashed over and over again until she felt adored and blissful, and tormented and battered all at the same time.
Mischa locked her ankles around his waist and arched beneath him as the pressure inside her built and built. He felt so good. So right. So…
“Mine,” she whispered against his lips.
“Yes,” he answered immediately. “Always.”
That was pretty much all it took to break her. She screamed his name as she came, heard hers tumble from his lips on a hoarse groan as he followed her to completion.
It took about ten minutes of them lying together, coming back down to earth, before Mischa realized the ever-present hum of electricity was gone from her building…and on the streets.
Semi-Twisted: Page 11