Must Love Vampires (12 page)

His own hands wandered along her buttocks, her thighs, her waist and breasts, and back again, over and over. Every inch of Chuck’s skin tingled like it had pins and needles, her blood humming as though he’d already bitten her and imbibed her with a bit of his own immortal essence that gave her powers beyond her wildest imaginings.

She could certainly do with an extra dose of strength, heightened senses, the whole works. But at the moment, the only thing she was feeling was mega-horny. Was that a superpower? And if it was, did it come from her . . . or from him?

Vampire or not, Sebastian
did
have powers—the power to make her crazy with desire, senseless with wanting him.

Reaching between them, she grasped his erection and arranged herself so that she hovered just above him, teased the tip of that hard, hot length of satin-over-steel with her wetness. He moaned against her mouth, raising his hips in an effort to push farther inside her.

She thought about toying with him. Pulling away only to lower herself ever so slowly again, inch by excruciating inch.

But torturing him would only torture her, as well, and what was the point of that? He’d already given her a very generous orgasm; she not only wanted another—or another half dozen, if they could manage it—but wanted to give him a hefty dose of mind-blowing pleasure, too.

Curling her nails into the firm planes of his pecs, she blew the air out of her lungs in short little huffs as she moved her hips down and covered him all the way to the root.

When she was fully seated, when he was buried inside her as far as he could go, they both sighed. It was bliss. Complete and total satisfaction. Not in the big-bang way, but in a way that simply made her go
ahhhhhh
.

She could have stayed that way the rest of the night, the rest of her life . . . except . . . she didn’t want to. She wanted to move.

Fast.

And hard.

Sebastian must have read her mind, because his hands went to her hips, gripping tightly. She bit her bottom lip, savoring the sensations as he lifted her slightly . . . and brought her back down. Lifted her . . . and brought her down.

She threw her head back, letting her hair dance down her back, letting her breasts lift and her eyes slide closed. His hands guided her movements, but she was more than a willing partner, using her knees and thighs to ride him.

They went slowly at first, a long, languid up-and-down glide. Something else she could have done forever, if not for the build of exquisite friction between them. It sped up her breathing and made her stomach clench in anticipation.

All of her muscles clenched—in her legs, her abdomen, her fingers as they curled like talons into his chest, and those that wrapped around him so intimately. He groaned, hitching his pelvis up as she came down, and they both hissed.

Next thing she knew, Sebastian’s face was a hairsbreadth from her own, his warm breath dusting her cheeks and fluttering the ends of her hair. Shifting beneath her, he rearranged himself so that they were locked together like puzzle pieces.

Her breasts pressed against his chest. A fine sheen of perspiration coated them both, making their skin slick and salty. She smelled it when she inhaled, tasted it when she put her mouth to his shoulder.

She linked her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips, hugging him tight, while he clasped her back. They moved together in perfect symmetry—hot, grinding, X-rated symmetry, but symmetry all the same.

He used his hands, his arms, his entire body to lift her, then bring her down again, harder and harder each time. His thighs cushioned her. His lips brushed her throat, followed by the scrape of his tongue and teeth—those wicked, glorious fangs that scratched, but never broke the skin.

“Sebastian,” she panted, even as the pounding increased, threatening to steal the breath from her lungs completely.

He grunted in reply, his fingers flexing at her waist, his hips tilting higher to meet her downward thrusts.

“Sebastian,” she said again as the tension grew. Her arms and legs tightened around him while everything else tightened inside of her. She could feel the climax coiling at her center like a cyclone. She was almost there, so close, her head was beginning to spin.

But something was missing. Something scary and dangerous and elemental that she shouldn’t be thinking about, shouldn’t want . . . but did. Desperately.

“Bite me, Sebastian,” she murmured, sure he could hear her no matter how soft the words because of his keen vampire hearing. “Please.”

His entire body jerked in her embrace, head coming up and gray eyes piercing through hers. He stopped moving, making her moan with disappointment, but if anything, his grip on her grew even more taut.

“What?” he bit out in a strained, gravelly voice.

Tipping her head, she shook her hair back over one shoulder and bared her throat. Even she could feel the pulse beating there like a tribal drum. “Bite me,” she said again. “I want you to.”

He shook his head and pulled back slightly. His mouth was a flat line, and she could practically see the wall going up between them. Not that she had any intention of allowing it.

Running her fingers through the tousled black hair at his temples, she took hold of his head and held his face directly in front of her own. His gaze met hers, and she saw the battle taking place there, in his mind and his heart.

“No,” he told her, shaking his head despite her hold on him.

“Why not?” she wanted to know.

“It’s too soon. You’re not ready.”

“I am, and I want it, Sebastian. As much as I want you.”

“No,” he said again, trying to sound firm, trying to sound resolute, but Chuck thought she heard a waver of indecision there . . . of longing.

“If you’re going to wipe my memory come morning, then we only have tonight. This is my one chance for the full ‘hot vampire sex’ experience. I’m not afraid,” she reassured him. “And I know you won’t hurt me.”

Shifting in his lap, driving his rock-hard cock even deeper inside of her, she did her best impression of kudzu, wrapping around him like a sticky, swarming vine. She wasn’t letting him go until she got what she wanted—what she knew they both wanted.

“I know you want to,” she whispered, pressing her mouth to his ear and
his
mouth to the side of her throat. “Do it, Sebastian. Please.”

A low, heartfelt growl rolled up from his chest. She could feel the fight of desire versus apprehension playing out within his conscience.

Desire won out. With a groan of defeat, his mouth opened wide at her neck, covering the muscles and tendons that ran along her jugular. His warm breath dusted her skin, his tongue darting out to taste the pulse point a second before the tips of his fangs ran over the same spot.

And then her skin was broken, his teeth were sinking deep, and her blood was pouring out, pounding through her veins and into his waiting mouth.

She moaned at the sensation, eyes sliding shut. It was like nothing she’d ever felt before. The room was spinning even behind her closed eyelids, making her lightheaded, but in the very best way. Heat rushed through her, making her fingers and toes and everything in between tingle.

And the “in between” was incredible. Rising up over her, Sebastian tipped her to her back, then pressed her into the mattress with his broad, heavy frame.

His mouth never left her throat, the slow, methodic suckling as he drank almost like another sensual invasion. She would have the mother of all hickies come morning, she thought dazedly, wondering if he could erase that as easily as he’d promised to erase her mind.

While her lifeblood filled him, he filled her, moving again, sending banked passions flaring to blazing life. He drove into her, no longer gentle, no longer solicitous of her response or weighing every touch and stroke.

Her blood—or maybe just blood itself, regardless of the donor—had changed him, turned him feral and sexually ravenous. And she loved it. He couldn’t hold her tightly enough, bite her deeply enough, pound into her hard enough.

She dug her heels into his spine, twisted her fingers in his hair, met his violent thrusts with the lift and tilt of her own hips. And her lips urged him on, though she had no real concept of what she was saying.
Yes, yes . . . God, yes . . . please don’t stop
sounded about right, but that might have been all in her head.

Her only clear thought was of the orgasm racing toward her like a tidal wave. She wanted to catch it, throw herself into it, ride it wherever it cared to take her for as long as she could . . . and to bring Sebastian with her.

And then she was there, screaming as ecstasy slammed into her, taking her over the edge and into the abyss. Surge after surge of pleasure struck her, rolled through her, making her writhe against the satin sheets and shout Sebastian’s name.

He was there with her. A moment after her climax began, he clasped her close and released her throat as he stiffened and came. Shudders wracked him as he convulsed above and inside of her, and she welcomed every arch, every quake, every squeeze of his fingers on her buttocks.

Minutes ticked by before their bodies stilled and their breathing returned to normal, but even then, Chuck felt far from ordinary. Sebastian might clear her mind of any memory of tonight, but she suspected that deep down in her heart and soul, she would always remember that
something
had happened this evening. Something different and special and life-altering.

As heavy as they felt, she forced her eyes open, noticing the touch of color just beginning to spread across the far end of the night sky, well past the neon lights of downtown Las Vegas. Morning already, when it seemed only moments ago that she’d been squeezing into Chloe’s costume.

Morning!
The thought—as well as its implications for the man still draped on top of her—registered, and she started to sit up with a jerk. But then a sudden cranking sound filled the room, and thick steel panels slid down over the glass windowpanes.

“It’s okay,” Sebastian muttered, levering himself up a scant few inches and rolling to his side. Fighting with the covers they were still sprawled on top of, he tugged them loose, then got the two of them tucked comfortably underneath. “They’re on a timer. Down just before sunrise, up just after sunset.”

So that’s how he managed to avoid sunlight in a penthouse framed by nothing but windows. What a smart man. Smart, and rich enough to afford the very latest in vampire safety technology.

“Gotta sleep,” he said, sounding sleepier by the minute. Not that she blamed him; she was feeling all kinds of relaxed and ready for a nap herself.

His arm snaked around her waist, yanking her snug against him, her back to his chest. “Don’t go anywhere,” he mumbled, burying his nose in her hair and his lips to the nape of her neck.

“Aren’t you going to erase my memory now?” she asked quietly. Now that he’d had his way with her, drunk her blood, given her more pleasure than any ten mortal men combined could ever dream of offering . . .

“Later. Sleep now,” he slurred, his voice growing softer in the darkness. “Stay. Sleep.”

She really wished she had some paper and a pencil handy. Or a micro-recorder. Or cell phone. Or even a Morse Code machine so she could tap out a few notes about her night with a vampire. He still intended to wipe her memory later, and it might be nice to have a few facts jotted down in case she ever did get the chance to write her article. Or even just so that she might recall a few valuable personal moments from this whole experience.

But then, if vampires were as accomplished at scrubbing brain cells as he claimed, she would probably only wonder what the heck she’d written down all that scrawled nonsense for, anyway, so what was the point?

With a yawn, she gave up—at least momentarily—on the idea of being some ace investigative reporter and stayed wrapped safely in his warm embrace. And she slept, more soundly than she could ever remember.

Straight Flush

It was the sliding rise of the steel window coverings that woke her. Until then, she had been so deeply asleep that she hadn’t even been dreaming. Just floating in the ether, enjoying the quiet, endless black of post-coital bliss.

And maybe a small bit of blood loss from Sebastian’s rather aggressive nibbling. But that was nothing she couldn’t recover from—and wouldn’t do again in a minute, if given the chance.

Stretching beneath the warm and satiny sheets, the crisp hairs on Sebastian’s legs tickled the backs of her calves, his chest pressed along the length of her spine. Lower, clear evidence of his morning arousal nudged against her butt.

Or would that be evening arousal? And did vampires call erections “wood,” or did they have an aversion to that word because of the whole stake-through-the-heart thing?

Wiggling around, she turned to face him and realized it was nearly dark outside. The Vegas skyline was once again inky blue, bleeding into black, dotted with spots of light and color and sparkling proof of The Strip’s twenty-four-hour adult revelry.

Despite the amount of research she’d done before deciding to take her sister’s place and stalk the elusive Sebastian Raines, she had a lot to learn. Being involved with a vampire was definitely going to take some getting used to. Sleeping all day, doing all the important stuff at night . . . eating her weight in red meat to keep her iron up so she didn’t pass out in the middle of suckingly good sex. . . .

That was, provided she would actually
be
involved with a vampire. She had no problem admitting that she wanted to continue seeing Sebastian. They didn’t know one another very well yet, but already she found him fascinating. Already, she found herself imagining a future with him. Maybe only a near future rather than a far-into-the-future future, but a future all the same.

And they both knew the sex between them was IN-CRED-I-BLE. That was worth exploring, at least, wasn’t it?

The question was, did Sebastian want to keep seeing
her
? Was she, a mere human, worthy of a vampire’s time and affections, or was she nothing more than a one-night amusement?