Night Huntress 07 - This Side of the Grave (23 page)

I moved closer until my legs pressed against the side of the bed. “Do you remember the first time you bit me here?” I asked, tracing my finger over the tight bud of his nipple.

“Yes.” One word, hissed with all the weight of desire that I could feel through his emotions.

“It felt like your fangs were burning me.” My voice was no more than a whisper from the shiver of remembrance, and I blew out the candle with an unsteady puff. “I can’t duplicate that with you because you’re not human,” I went on. “The juice in my fangs won’t feel the same, but maybe this will be close.”

Then I poured some of the hot wax that pooled in the candle directly onto
Bones’s
nipple.

His whole body arched while a strangled groan tore from his throat. I didn’t wait for the wax to harden, but covered it with my mouth, biting into his skin and tonguing the searing mixture at the same time. His back arched again, strong hands tangling in my hair to press me closer with enough force to drive my fangs deeper into him. Pleasure blasted across my subconscious, inciting me to bite him again, pushing the wax aside in my mouth to swallow the heady vintage of his blood.

Then, before the wax cooled too much, I poured the remains from the candle onto his other nipple, rewarded by another guttural moan. I waited a second before switching my fangs there next, alternately licking and sucking the hard, heated peak. Once I’d swallowed another decadent mouthful of his blood—and possibly a few stray bits of wax—I leaned back, wiping my mouth of any spare drops and staring into his scorching green gaze.

His power throbbed beneath my hands, the scent of his lust heavy in the air. It mingled with the smoke and fragrance of my own arousal, creating an erotic ambiance. Without taking my eyes from him, I leaned forward, brushing my breast along his side as I reached to put the extinguished candle on the nightstand… and grab the other lit one.

Very slowly, I ran my free hand down his body, brushing aside the remaining bits of wax on his chest before following that thin line of dark hair to where it widened at his groin.
Bones’s
eyes didn’t close as my hand circled around him, but his lips parted, revealing those sharp twin fangs. I moistened my own lips as I looked down at the hard flesh in my hand. It overflowed my grip, pulsing with a different sort of power, the tip wet with the palest drop of pink as I stroked with firm, smooth pumps. Then I glanced at the candle in my other hand before meeting his unblinking gaze.

“Do it,” he said, his voice so rough I almost didn’t recognize it.

I blew the candle out with a soft puff that still left it smoldering, then poured the entire scalding contents onto the hard flesh in my hand.

His whole body jerked while flashes of pain and pleasure assaulted my subconscious. I mashed the top of the candle together to ensure that it was out before throwing it aside, ignoring the fleeting burn in my hand. Then, before the wax had a chance to cool, I fastened my lips around the head of his cock. A primal groan came from his throat when I pulled him in deeper, tonguing his flesh, taking as much as I could with two sharp, pointed fangs in the way. He felt like sculpted marble, flesh warmer from the contact with the wax that clung between my fingers. I stroked him as I continued to work his length into my mouth, sucking on his flesh like I wanted to rend the skin from him.

His hands clenched convulsively, tearing the sheets from the ripping noises. I didn’t pause to check, but continued to flick my tongue along his flesh, brushing away the wax. Only pleasure flooded through our connection now since he’d already healed from the initial contact the wax caused. Even if I couldn’t feel that through his emotions, I’d know it because my hand didn’t sting anymore. Besides, I knew that on occasion, Bones liked a little pain with his passion. And after I became a vampire, I found out one of his favorite ways to receive it.

I lifted my gaze to stare up at him as I took him as deeply into my mouth as I could, my fangs pressing against the veined hardness beneath them. His eyes closed and his back arched—another invitation I took him up on.

I sank my fangs into him, reveling in the shudder that went through his body and the shout that seemed to erupt from his throat. The ambrosia of his blood teased my tongue as, very carefully, I rocked my mouth against him, taking his cock deeper without enlarging the punctures I’d made in it.

This
had taken practice to perfect.

That blend of ecstasy and pain swarmed back over my emotions. He groaned, hips lifting in time to the rhythmic movement of my mouth. I pulled my fangs out to sink them in again at the base of his groin, only my vampiric lack of a gag reflex making it possible for me to enclose him completely. Then, I sucked once more, running my tongue along his length while swallowing the drops of blood that leaked past my fangs from the punctures.

“Turn around,” Bones said hoarsely as his hands urged me up toward him.

I resisted, knowing what he wanted and also knowing I’d lose all sense if I let him do it.

“No. Just you, or I’ll stop,” I said, the words somewhat garbled, but punctuated with another slide of my fangs into his flesh.

He moved so that he was on his side, his body curled toward mine, hand reaching between my thighs. A choked moan escaped me as he rubbed my cleft, thumb circling my clitoris even as his fingers penetrated my depths.

“You’re so wet,” he muttered. “I want to drown in your taste and cover myself with your scent.”

The graphic imagery made even more things inside me
tighten
, but I had a reason for not wanting him to go down on me, even if I couldn’t recall it at the moment.

“No,” I said again, taking him back inside my mouth and grazing his length with my fangs.

He groaned.
“Soon.
Don’t stop, Kitten.
Deeper.
More.”

I encased him to the hilt again, sucking even more strongly. His hand stayed where it was, fingers moving over my flesh with greater insistence, making my hips arch with each accompanying stroke. An ache began to build in me, a familiar tension that spoke of needs that couldn’t be denied. Each rub wound me tighter, inflaming me. I continued to draw on the hard length of him, licking and biting the spots I knew he liked best, trying not to give in to the urge to feast on his blood. His hand moved faster, until cries spilled from my mouth even though they were muffled by his flesh.

“I can’t wait anymore,” Bones all but snarled.

I barely had time to pull my fangs out of his skin before he yanked me up, sliding down at the same time. His arms lashed around my waist, holding me in a viselike grip, mouth latching onto the soft, tingling flesh between my legs.

Pleasure slammed into me like a dam had burst. His fingers dug into my hips, molding me closer. Tongue and fangs and lips became a blur of sensations that whipped me with rapture, stealing all thought under the chaotic flood. The more I moved, the higher it took me.

Harsh cries took on the cadence of breathing, fed by a million nerve endings that urged me on for more. Had his hands not held me, I would have fallen from the tremors that started to rip through me. They culminated in an orgasm that felt torn out of me.

Some measure of coherence returned, enough to make me mildly embarrassed at how his head was now compressed several inches into the mattress. He finally released his grip and I fell back onto the bed. When he crouched over me, his eyes were still fierce, flaming green. A chopped inhalation escaped me when I saw traces of blood around his mouth.
Mine?
Or his?

“Bones—”

“Don’t.” Something lurked in his tone that shivered me. “Don’t say anything, especially ‘stop.’ You’re in for it now.”

He gathered me to him, pulling me to my knees and turning me around. One pale arm curved around my waist, holding me firmly. In the next moment he thrust into me, sheathing
himself
in one rough stroke.

It made me cry out, as did the next one and the next, so hard and fast I felt tears leak from my eyes. He ran his mouth along my back before dragging it to my ear.

“Don’t hold back.” His steady tone belied his movements, driving into me with more force than I thought I could bear. “Scream for me.”

“Too much.”
My reply was panted at his frantic pace.

“Like hell,” he growled, licking my neck. “You pierced yourself on my fangs and you loved it. I feel your body, and you’re not in pain. Let go, like you did before. Give in.”

He bent me forward, his hands on my hips the only thing supporting me. True to his prior directive, I began to scream at the ceaseless, blistering passion of his body cleaving into mine harder than he ever had before. His grip immobilized me, accented voice muttering rough endearments between groans of his own as the intensity built to a staggering pitch. When it crested to the point of overwhelming me, he leaned down and buried his fangs into my neck, drinking my blood with strong, almost feral pulls of his mouth.

I collapsed onto the mattress, no strength, mindless, my release hitting me in pounding surges. It was so intense that I was only vaguely aware of
Bones’s
shout before a deep spasm inside told me that he’d joined me in ecstasy. After a few moments that seemed to suspend in time, he fell next to me like someone cut his strings, both of us taking in a few ragged, if sporadic, breaths.

“If I have to beg, you are going to do that again,” Bones finally said in a strained voice. “I can’t feel my bloody legs.”

Neither could I, but speaking was beyond my abilities at the moment. I could hear and think, but only hazily. Even with the lightning-fast regenerative abilities of being a vampire, I still felt twinges of soreness mixed in with the residual tingles from a really explosive orgasm. If I’d been human and Bones took me that hard, I wouldn’t walk for a week. No, wait, make that a month.

“I think this’ll definitely tide me over while we’re apart,” I said, managing to flop over onto my back.
And then some
, my glazed mind added.

Bones laughed, dragging me into his arms with far more strength and quickness than was fair, considering I still had trouble making my limbs operate.

“Oh, Kitten,” he murmured as his lips dragged down my throat. “You didn’t really think we were done, did you?”

He’ll be the death of me
was my thought, but I couldn’t bring myself to utter a word of complaint. Or protest as his mouth slid past my neck and continued on a downward track.

After all, even if I was right, there were far worse things than death—and I couldn’t think of a better way to go, anyway.

The plane touched down right as the
skies opened and heavy rain pelted the aircraft. Even though I was anxious to get started, a part of me lamented the fact that soon, I’d have to reapply my stinky phantom repellent again. Airport security would have taken issue with me trying to board a flight while covered in weed, and I didn’t think my truthful explanation of “But I have to keep ghosts away!” would go over with them.

I collected my suitcase from the overhead bin—missing my usual weapons cache—and did the wait-stop-wait shuffle out of the plane with the other passengers. Once on the gangway, I could walk freely, and it didn’t take me long to reach the passenger waiting area. A circular glance around didn’t show the face I was looking for, and there was no telltale surge of supernatural energy in the air. Frowning, I glanced at my watch. No, I wasn’t early. In fact, the plane was about fifteen minutes behind schedule. So where was Mencheres?

“Cat, welcome.”

I whirled, blinking for a second at the tall, tawny-haired stranger—and then I laughed.

“God, that’s amazing.”

The slight hint of a smile on Mencheres’s face was familiar, but not much else. His midnight-black hair and eyebrows were now golden blond, his charcoal-colored gaze azure blue, and instead of the normal, expensive-looking slacks and long-sleeved shirts he favored, Mencheres had on an Ed Hardy T-shirt and board shorts.

Most startling to me, however, was his aura. Or lack of one. Aside from his missing heartbeat, I’d almost swear he was human, because almost no preternatural energy stirred the air around us. Considering that being around Mencheres normally felt like flying a metal umbrella in a lightning storm, I was stunned at how thoroughly he’d managed to cloak his power level.

“And here I thought I was good at this cloak-and-dagger stuff,” I went on, a vague gesture encompassing my newly raven hair, brown contacts, and artificially darkened skin courtesy of one of those tan-in-a-bottle creams. I’d even thickened and darkened my eyebrows and dyed the peach fuzz on my arms from golden-red to brown. A vampire had previously identified me because of a hint of red on my armpits, even though I’d shaved that morning. Fool me once and all that.

“I’ve had somewhat more practice than you,” Mencheres replied with dry humor, taking my bag even though I could easily carry it. I didn’t argue. He wasn’t being chauvinistic; he just came from a different era.
A
very
different era, considering the four-and-a-half-millennia gap in our ages.

We walked out of the airport without saying anything else, not wanting to draw attention to ourselves just in case this place was being watched by either
Apollyon’s
ghouls or ones from the other sect. We couldn’t be too careful, even though Bones had already been out the past three nights with Denise in Ohio. With her ability to shapeshift into an exact replica of me, I doubted anyone except him, Spade, Mencheres, or Kira had any idea that the real Red Reaper was in Memphis instead of hitting the bar and club scene with Bones.