“You gonna deduct shirt money from my pay?” Eyes closed, she soared as he lavished skin. His belt press against her stomach, which she tackled to get rid of.
“I’d like a different form of payment.” He pinned her greedy hands to his chest. A cocky grin in place.
Always in control. And fine, he could be.
Although his time was running out. Veronica was two pussy throbs away from slamming his ass on the floor and riding him to the damn moon. The look he bore in her was intense, and amped with hunger.
Lust.
Love.
She reflected, so easy to do, and both were struck hard, caught in the eye of a hurricane riddled of emotion. She let it spin her, no way did she want to seek cover.
This was Keeland, I wanted to get destroyed in.
She flashed growing fangs.
The animal wants it all.
Off the counter, her dress was savagely ripped down the middle. “Keeland!” she was more thrilled than miffed. She’d been envisioning being naked with him for a long damn time.
Even when he’d previously pissed her off at work. Fantasizing about angry sex is the perfect soother.
Standing on wobbling legs, the dress to the right and left on the floor, he regarded her new state with clenched jaws. Hmm, when was the last time Boss Man saw a G-string?
“Gods,” he mumbled. To Veronica’s invisible cheerleaders, Team Ardelean took the lead. She gave him her backside, loving his sharp intake of breath, and leaned over the counter. Flipping her hair to one side, she met his now lime green eyes over a shoulder.
“Is this payment enough?” she asked innocently, putting a little pout to it while rotating her hips. “Or how about this?” The bra became unclasped, sheer evil applied, Veronica took her sweet ol’ time letting the black garment caress her front, and dropped it to the floor. She stepped out of my heels as well.
Keeland approached, his large hands cupping her tits from behind. The roughness felt amazing on sensitive skin. Arching, she pressed into his erection, earning a growl and moan from him.
“Not enough,” he said and squeezed. Veronica bit hard on her lip. She loved the attention he focused on my breasts—they had never received such in the past. The streak of control she had poofed out of existence when he slid his right hand down the plane of her abdomen, inside panties, meeting wet folds. He applied pressure to the nub that screamed with need.
”Unh,” Red eyes squeezed shut. Colors sparkled and danced. Then they vanished along with his hand.
Damn him. “Keeland,” she hissed, ready to demand he return his finger, when she was suddenly twirled to face his stormy expression. In three moves, he ripped off the G-string, lifted her up on the counter, and spread her legs wide.
All before she’d gotten a chance to fucking blink.
His smile was hungry and read: gotcha. He looked like a true predator, and he knew it. Fangs glinted in the orange light above. She squirmed under his stare, which roamed every exposed inch. Yeah, she’d played the show-off card seconds before, but now, being scrutinized, she was a tad nervous. She gave up leaning on her elbows and laid flat.
Gently, like a soft whisper, Keeland placed the tiniest of kisses on her inner thigh. “My love?”
And just like that any type of sheepish nervousness was demolished.
Veronica reached out, grabbing his collar to yank him to greedy lips. Warm, pleasure-inducing fingers roamed. His lips left hers to head south, hands going from sweet to rough in growing moments. She squirmed with excitement.
Keeland’s mouth engulfed her pussy.
“Fuck!” she shouted, clamping thighs around his head. He shoved them open wide, overpowering to keep her on clear display—soaked and bared for him to devour.
“Gods, I’ve dreamed of this,” he purred, breath tickling the inner corner of creamy thighs, stopping at a throbbing entrance, penetrating the wet barrier with his tongue.
Goddess, yes, right there. Ass up, firm grip on his hair, Go... deep. “Keeland...” A long moan echoed within his huge apartment. Her other hand latched onto the counter above her head, hair hung over the edge.
Keeland mumbled something, shit she hadn’t a clue, her eyes crossed. He cupped her ass, digging fingers deep in the flesh, lifting it higher. Body at a slant, Veronica screamed as he continued to feast.
“Look.” Lick. “At.” Nip. “Me.” Suck.
The bastard. Impossible. Didn’t he know that she was too far gone? Completely lost, how many toes did she even have? He open-mouthed growled, vibrating hot flesh. “Keeland!” she cried, and finally, at the very last beat, connected to his maddening green eyes. Reaching the brink, her muted mouth formed an “O” then in a rush like a speeding train passing through a tunnel, she screamed his name and exploded.
“My love, you are a beautiful sight,” he said, carefully adjusting her to a sitting position after a break.
“You mean crazy sight?” this was asked after her reflection in the microwave described as much. Very just-got-electrocuted-ish.
He chuckled and kissed her forehead. “Whatever you imagine, you’re still a beauteous blessing in my eyes.”
Where the hell does he get stuff like that from? Pussy swoon dot com?
He rubbed her knees—oh, I’d forgotten I had those. The feeling was slowly coming back to life in the lower half of her limbs. Keeland remained in front as they indulged in more wine. The blood added in replenished depleted energy to a billion percent. Veronica knocked back another, then slapped her palms together. She was ready to go at it again.
But this time it was her man’s turn.
She hoped off the counter.
“A lot of square footage you got here.” Veronica walked naked through the living room, stopping to prop a knee on the mile-long couch. The elven beast didn’t answer, as he stalked closer. Roughly, she pushed him to sit, loving his brief expression of surprise.
“Veronica.” His strong, warning tone contrasted with his heavy breathing.
A smirk played on her lips. She kneeled in front of his engorged cock that strained behind the zipper. Once freed, she hid her own surprise on finally seeing his large dick. Fisting it, the first kiss was placed on the mushroom tip, then she took him deep in her throat. He spasmed, writhed, and won at being the better hair puller.
Veronica brought Keeland to loudly shouting in pleasure. Accelerating the rate, head bobbing up and down, she kissed his beautiful tip and descended to his base, sucking every inch, growing wet between her legs again—til he was ultimately liberated. Hot seed hit the back of her throat.
Basking in triumph lasted about three seconds, no chance of doing the I-Gave-My-Boss-A-Blow-Job dance because suddenly he captured her in his arms. They passed rooms in a blur, entering a cathedral-ceilinged bedroom.
“Son of a bitch.” she gaped at the ocean-size bed. Fabric that covered the wide circular mattress was black, underneath contained a silk blanket also onyx; the entirety resembled a wormhole she was soon be sucked in. He set her down, introducing her backside to its cool texture.
“Ahhhh.” Veronica rolled and pressed toes into the soft cushion. “Gods, Keeland, no way would I ever leave this bed if I had one.” It dipped as he joined, void of clothes.
She swallowed her tongue.
His godly, sculpted, naked body laid on top her. Instinctively she wound each limb around him. Motionless, their skin-to-skin embrace lasted for what felt like hours. Then tightly held rocking.
Keeland’s lips drifted from the very breaches of her temples down to each ankle. “I’m glad you like my bed.” His voice breathed over curvy hips. Rising, he hooked her legs on his own. The expansive room was coated in shadow, drenched in it. Only a single orb of light from the bedside lamp revealed the primal need written across his beautiful face. “Because I don’t plan for either of us to leave it.”
* * *
Nocturnal creatures we are, baring sharpened fangs and releasing loud grunts and moans as bodies are ravished, til the arrival
of dawn.
Basically, we fucked like there was no tomorrow.
You’d need a big ass notebook to log the many times she screamed Keeland’s name. Or the number of bottles of blood consumed to combat zonking out. Bless the soul of the delivery person. And whatever maid service Keeland uses.
His bedroom was tossed far worse than his office. That’s what happens when a lust-possessed vampire lets a mating-hungry elf screw her on every horizontal and vertical surface. Ceiling excluded.
Magic electrified Keeland’s hands, just as it had before, but this time less violently, giving Veronica mild jolts that only intensified the white-hot fireball in her pitted chest. It provided a wonderous little lightshow.
Though that wasn’t the best part of the whole night. That award was handed to Keeland’s whispered endearments, coupled with his thrusts when they made love.
“My... my,” he groaned in her neck while pumping his cock inside her. At that instant they were half falling off the bed. She couldn’t form actual words to respond. He filled her perfectly. She saw stars.
“Mine. Mine.” His sweaty, wrinkled brow mushed to breasts, thrusting fast and hard on the floor, wrapped in the sheet that was yanked from the mattress. Pillows fell, too, knocking over a lamp.
“Gods, Veronica... amazing.” He moaned this while he had her once again in his mouth, against the wall. During a torrential wave of release resulted an accidental fist-sized hole in the plaster.
“Love... this.” He plunged deep from behind, fisting a handful of midnight hair. She lacked the memory of how they’d ended up in the doorway of the bathroom. The sounds of flesh slapping clogged her hearing. If she weren’t going blind she’d explore the grand bathing room.
“Love... you.”
“More,” she whimpered. “Love you more.”
Fingers intertwined, Keeland Elwood then loved Veronica slow and lazy on the window seat. The fading moon and rising sun tinted skin.
The exact point of time escaped her before she succumbed to sleep.
Chapter Seventeen
Keeland needed this every damn morning; waking up with his woman sprawled across his torso, enveloped in rosy scent. She faced him, her head tilted, though curtained by her hair. He brushed it aside to find her pink lips parted, eyes closed.
Not breathing. He’d have to get used to being with a woman whose chest didn’t normally rise and fall.
He stirred, encountering a creak in the neck. Meh, maybe not needing to wake up on the cramped seat under the window wasn’t a bad thing. He carried her soft, sleeping form to the bed, thinking its state of disarray was going to be a permanent fixture.
One, because it was a reminder of what finally, gods yes, had occurred.
And two, he hoped to continue making Veronica come in every corner of this place, triple times infinity over again. Keeland quietly padded out to fetch nourishment, a bottle of ice water and called for another sixteen ounces of blood, plus blood-covered frozen grapes. Such items should be stocked for her in the future.
Minutes later, he re-entered to the bedroom, drinks and fruit in hand.
Suddenly paralyzed by the scene he walked into.
Veronica was still in bed, currently in a back-arching stretch, on her parted knees, arms in the air, shoulders back.
Breasts perked high.
Keeland’s mouth dried.
Peach nipples pointed.
Damn. Movements graceful like a feline, her curvy body continued to twist and turn, hardening his cock until it tapped his navel until...
She collapsed in a fit of giggles. It seems he had been baited and trapped in the lovely view of her body. My wicked woman would be the death of me.
“Here.” He passed her the blood and the small container of grapes. Then suckered again when she pressed a grape to her lips, puckering around it like she did last night on his cock. He face planted in a pillow.
“Ha!” She swatted his ass. “Not hungry?”
“Oh, I very much am,” if it is you I’ll be eating. He flipped positions and watched her finish snacking. Her pupils dilated when she did, then returned to normal when she had completely fed. Keeland sipped the last of the water. “Thank you.” She indicated the last grape she popped in her mouth.
“You’re welcome.” Opening his arms, she automatically crawled to him. Feels like heaven.
“I want us to stay here,” she admitted in a whisper, tracing circles on his abs. “And not...”
Same. Thoughts and simmering frustration paralleled with hers.
And not have to face Matthews today.
“Keeland, I—”
“Ssh.” He chucked the plastic bottle across the carpet and kissed his vampire, sinking into the bed. He hovered above her. The gentle play that started switched to needy then rough as mild anger surfaced.
Forget what’s to come. Live here, in the now, with her.
She parted pale legs, giving him freedom. An escape in her moist depths. In one thrust, he sheathed himself to the base. Returning to her raw lips, he swallowed her sharp cries and didn’t move, simply savoring, risking an early surrender. Shoving the real world to the background.
Though, not for long.
Slow and drawn out, Keeland was not. He fucked her as if she was the last resort to staying alive. Erratic. Powerful. Inhuman. His grunts threaded through her screams. The headboard beat the wall. The whole heavy mattress shifted.
He cared only for her release, which arched her body, and bit what was offered. Both breasts, neck, firm stomach, each dip of her hips, leaving twin red dots on it all. She looked as if he were a dream, palming his cheek, applying warmth that signified home. Nothing else mattered.
He came then, collapsing in the arms of his home.
Chapter Eighteen
Veronica was snuck into Keeland’s car in the underground parking lot, wearing one of his long, wool peacoats since her evening dress was... well... murdered on his kitchen floor. Pulling up to her complex, she went in alone to change. Keeland stayed behind to answer calls and messages.
Shower done, she threw on a simple business outfit. Blouse, skirt, killer heels. After piling her hair in a bun, she stuck in a different pair of studs, gold ones, and tucked away the diamonds worn from dinner. The date that turned into a delicious marathon of sex. Sign me up for night two, please.
Purse and leather tote obtained, her departure paused as the small ping—a new email sounded from her phone. At the window, she discreetly watched below at Keeland’s vehicle sitting idle at the curb.
Veronica’s neck prickled because she already knew who the sender was before the message was tapped open.
Unknown—Romania.
Her ghost source she contacted yesterday. The possible job ending risk.
It’s all here. Not of the name you provided but his son.
Son? Holy shit.
There was a total of twenty attachments. Phone records, text messages, photos and, best of all, audio and video footage. She scanned through it all, jaw getting closer and closer to hitting the ground. My, oh motherfucking my.
You wanted something to force Remington to sell, right?
True. Dirty as it might be...
But you wanted this. You’ve just been handed a shiny pot of gold.
Veeeery true.
Remembering that Keeland was waiting in the car, she shook herself. The clock marked less than two hours ‘til Matthews would be arriving at The Tower for his final meeting. Veronica envisioned her elf brooding in the driver’s seat. Growing grimmer, since he’d already begun since leaving his penthouse. And that just pissed her off. A night of red blazing love shot to hell because of Remington bellying up like a pathetic pig and now they were soon to face the last of their biggest client.
So she would absolutely, not be feeling any sort of remorse about what she was about to do.
Not. At. All.
* * *
Keeland sat like the calm little princess Mona told him to be while his employees took their se
ats and waited for George Matthews to arrive.
A glance at the clock, the shifter was now docking fifteen minutes late.
Keeland grinded his molars. He was sure as shit wanted this done and over. They could part ways, cordially. However, that might still be up in the air. It depended whether the mountain lion said something that’ll piss him off.
Whatever. Keeland opened the portfolio containing Matthews’ release papers and the account documents that would be shredded the second he left. And at the end of the day, Keeland would leave, directing Veronica to his bed, and hopefully keep her there for the entire weekend.
He looked around to find the beauty but couldn’t. She wasn’t with the mingle of staff, nor presently walking through the door to come sit by his side. Where the hell is she?
Chapter Nineteen
Your move.
After hanging up the phone with a close associate of Remington, since the goblin himself was too busy to pull away from a craps table, Veronica was more than ready to halt the fucking presses and have Matthews leave with something to chew on other than what he originally expected.
For good measure she sent Remington’s associate a partial clip of audio featuring Remington’s pride and joy of a son with an unknown woman.
I’m sure your face is glowing red after listening to their... interesting discussion.
Remington would know her demands. And if he cared as much for his son as I’d learned from her source, then he’d heed them immediately.
Hopefully. Not every father is loveless like yours.
Veronica casted the thought aside. Remington will, in fact, call.
“Hey! Come on! Matthews is on his way up.” Mona zipped in, taking her hand in a death grip. The tiny demon was strong as hell. “What are you smirking about?” she asked.
“You’ll see.”
They slithered into the large conference room seconds before Matthews and his team of suits soldiered in. The over six-foot-tall and almost as wide, mountain lion was in his late one thousands. Gray and white streaked through his shoulder length sandy hair. How he stuffed himself into a tailored, neck-concealing suit was beyond comprehension. Veronica, Keeland, Mona and a few staff with last minute proposals on alternative locations he might like manned one side of the table.
Blood, Cupcakes and Wicked Business (Grimstone Island) Page 10