The Bastard (20 page)

Lacy burst out laughing. “Gen sounds like a real character.”

“He was.”

“You miss him a lot.”

His throat clamped shut. “Yeah, I do.”

Memories rushed his mind like a tidal wave. Each one steeped in friendship and colored by sorrow. He couldn’t handle that right now, not without losing it. He concentrated on something more pleasant; her ass pressed against his dick. Soft breasts rubbed his chest and her fingers traced circles through his shirt around his nipple.

Lust roared. He needed her, this minute. He needed to flush all the memories out of his system and let her body sweep him away. He took her mouth and her lips parted to his, her fingers sinking into his damp hair.

“You need a shower.”

“Come with me.” He stood, bringing her up with him. Lacy wrapped her legs around his hips and deepened the kiss. The few steps into the bathroom were highlighted by the wet slide of tongue on tongue and lips nipping lips. She licked across his split lip and he moaned, the slight sting turning to pleasure. Firm, heavy breasts pressed into his chest and her weight settled at the perfect angle to tease his cock through his pants.

He had to put her down to turn the shower on but was reluctant to free her mouth. The second her toes touched the tile, he reached behind her and fumbled with the faucet. Damp cotton skimmed up his stomach followed by her fingers gliding along his navel and the ridges above. Her fingertips toyed with his nipples and he groaned into her mouth. He needed to taste her breasts, to suck those pale pink tips until they drew tight and hard on his tongue.

They had too many clothes on. He broke away long enough to yank their shirts off, his first, then hers. She had her bra unhooked before he could get there. It fell somewhere near the toilet.

Steam rolled from the shower, bathing the room and their skin in moist humidity. Her mouth was on his neck, her tongue skating down to his collarbone as he popped the button on his BDUs. Heat surged into his belly as her fingers replaced his, smoothing along his waist to push the pants over his ass. The heavy material fell to his calves and got hung up on his boots.

Frustration growled through him. Samael had to have invented shoes and socks to impede getting naked. It was just his kind of twisted torture. As fast as he could, Vike jerked them off, kicking them against the door with a thud. Lacy used those few seconds to adjust the water temperature, preventing them both from a scald. Vike could already feel the burn as she leaned forward. Those creamy breasts begged for his mouth and he went to his knees, the perfect position for when she turned.

Her gasp bounced against the walls and her fingers gripped his hair when he sucked one nipple deep, pulling at the tip with his lips. The soft sound of his name pumped aching need into his balls. He rolled her sweatpants down her hips and she helped, stepping out of them. He tossed them over his shoulder. Snagging the band of her panties in his teeth, he dragged them down her thighs, slowly revealing her.

Underwear was stupid, he decided. If he had his way, she’d never wear any. His mouth traveled down, tonguing her stomach and nuzzling above the golden triangle at her legs’ apex. Hot, aroused woman filled his nose and his mouth grew hungry for the taste of her. Two fingers delved into her slick folds, searching and finding that tiny spot that beat with her pulse. Her hips arched, pushing into his kiss.

He dipped his chin, aiming to swipe that pink wet flesh with his tongue when she stepped away. She walked into the shower and he froze, not moving from his knees, just watching her. Water rained down, trickling over her shoulders to course down her breasts. She angled her head back to wet her hair. Droplets dotted her face, clinging to her lashes and beading on her lips. Lips that smiled at him in invitation.

“Wash my back?”

Rampant want urged him to slam her against the shower wall, thrust hard inside her and rock them until they both were spent. Gritting his teeth, he fought that impulse. Instead, he stepped into the shower and took the cloth, filled it with foamy soap and stroked every conceivable inch of her skin. Rounded nails dug into his shoulder as she clung to him while he washed between her legs thoroughly, teasing between her slick folds.

Soap was forgotten as he worked his fingers inside her, rubbing over her clit with one goal in mind. He held her there, on the peak of orgasm, until she gave him what he wanted — his name on her tongue. She scratched, she squirmed, she bucked into his palm but he never increased his rhythm.

“Oh God, please… please…don’t stop…oh…oh…Erik!”

Victory flushed through him. He increased the pressure of his fingers. Lacy exploded. The tiny bud quivered, drew tighter until her knees shook and sweet, low sounds of climax mixed with the water’s cadence.

He held her until her trembling stopped. She looked at him in awe, as if he were a god. “That was incredible.”

“I’m just starting.”

Her pink tongue slicked out, whisking shower drops from her lips. “My turn.”

She grabbed the shampoo bottle and stepped behind him. She traced his Forsaken Mark with a single fingertip until his shoulders trembled. Deeper thoughts became impossible as her hands caressed him. Silky fingers glided down the dip of his spine, curved around his hip, cupped his balls. She squeezed. A hiss sucked in fragrant steam and he thrust, pushing deeper into her palm. Sharp teeth nipped his shoulder as her hands skimmed up his chest, her breasts pressing against his back.

Every pleasure center in his body screamed in anticipation as Lacy turned his torment back on him. Liquid soap filled her palms and she washed everywhere, slowly, completely, until his jaws ached with his restraint. She circled him, nudged his foot and he shifted, widening his stance so she could slide her hand between his thighs. She hefted his balls, rolling each one. One hand fisted as he steadied himself against the shower wall and he encircled her waist, pulling her close, capturing her mouth.

Hot water pounded against the back of his neck as she kissed a line from his wounded cheek to his sternum. She sank lower, licking over his stomach, circling his navel, tracing the Fylfot tattoo below it. He waited, hoping, praying, needing her to take him in her mouth. Both palms circled him. A low grumble of satisfaction rumbled from his chest as she stroked. Twisting her hands, she caressed from the base of his cock to the tip in continual motions. His knuckles went white.

Lacy looked up, locked her eyes with his and licked along the broad head. Before he could draw in a breath, her lips closed around him. Wicked, wet swirls of her tongue curled his toes on the tiled floor. Her head bobbed, taking more of him with every down stroke. One hand curved around the base of his cock, the other worked his balls, squeezing and tugging until his hips moved unconsciously, pressing forward, seeking the sweet heat of her mouth.

She sucked him without pause or mercy until he buried his fingers in her wet hair. “Stop or finish me. Just decide fast.”

Her lips sank further down his shaft. He cupped her head and thrust. White lights popped behind his eyelids as fire flashed along his bones. Some kind of noise burst from his mouth, a growl, a yell, he wasn’t sure. He only knew that his heart bellowed her name as his cock pulsed. Even as his sight returned and his legs relaxed, his heart continued whispering
Lacy
.

Forsaken didn’t need food or water or rest and for that, he was eternally grateful. His recovery time was mere seconds. Those seconds were filled by lifting her to her feet, pressing her against the wall and his knee parting her thighs. He used the last second to feast on her lips, diving deep into mouth and taking every drop of desire she gave.

The very tip of his cock nudged her wet silk pussy and she stiffened, her hand shoving at his shoulders. “Erik, no. Condom.”

Excuses rapid-fired through his brain. He was clean, incapable of carrying or transmitting diseases. He was so fucking hard he could pound nails. Some level of decency reared its head. The wicked part of him whispered that he could just pull out. It had worked for centuries. But a new voice, one he’d rarely heard, echoed back that he couldn’t risk her like that. He knew himself. Leaving her body at the peak of climax would be damned-near impossible. She deserved better.

He left the shower streaming, cupping her under her ass and striding into the bedroom. Each step was sweet torment as he bumped and knocked against what he desperately craved. He put her down and yanked the nightstand drawer open, tearing the wrapper and dropping it back inside. Lacy had turned to the bed to pull the blanket down. His hand landed on the small of her back.

“Stay right there. Like this.”

Water cascaded from his hair, dripping in chilled rivulets down his chest. His skin was hot enough to make them boil. Rolling the latex down his shaft, he stepped closer. Lacy dropped her shoulders to the bed, lifting her pert, round ass. He wanted that, too, but was too hungry to be slow. Melted woman flowed across his fingers as he parted her pussy. She was ready for him.

Her back arched when he rammed inside her tight, hot heat. For a split second, he cursed his impatience but her moan silenced that. She rocked back, taking all of him, then angled forward, dragging her pussy to his tip. She sank backward as hard as he’d entered her. Whatever control he had shattered.

Gripping her hips, he gave into the primal animal inside. Flesh met flesh in crude, loud smacks tinged with soft whimpers of pleasure and deep growls of delight. Every stroke he gave, she took, squeezed and made it agony for him to draw back. Her name fell from his lips in a chant. He wanted this moment to last forever. A quiver deep inside her tested his restraints and he knew he wouldn’t last long, not near long enough.

The warmed air had dried the beaded water, but a slick of new sweat lined his brow. Leaning over her, he hefted one breast in his palm and rolled the tip, plucking at the nipple until she begged. Bracing himself over her, he traced down her stomach to between her legs. Lacy’s head snapped back, smashing into his shoulder as he circled her clit. A tremble in her thighs warned him.

Nails digging into the comforter, Lacy screamed. It wasn’t a weak mewl or a soft gasp, but a full-throated feminine roar. Hidden muscles clenched tight around his driving shaft, pushing him past the edge. He tucked his head into the curve of her neck and let the climax sweep him away. Wet hot surges rippled through him, blanking his mind of everything except the feel of her skin against his, her sex cradling his, her heartbeat echoing his. Of everything except Lacy.

Reality drifted down like fog. Chest heaving and knees shaking, he pushed her to the bed, following and nuzzling her nape. He couldn’t bear to break the fragile connection just yet. Turning her head to the side, she kissed his bitten cheek and giggled. “Wow.”

Of all the languages he spoke, that one word seemed to fit, and he chuckled with her. “Yeah, wow.”

Lacy shifted, squirmed and rolled until he slipped from inside her. She snuggled up to his side, her eyelids drooping with fatigue. “This can’t be real.”

“Why not?”

“Because it can’t. In the middle of so much death and destruction, I found something good.”

His Awoken heart froze. “What’d you find?”

“You, silly.” A sleepy smile brought a dimple out beside her mouth. “My hero.”

The shower kept running as she succumbed to sleep. Even knowing he should move, shut it off and deal with the condom, he couldn’t make his muscles listen. She considered him a good thing.

The moon was high, filtering through the curtains with a weak light that barely let him see the outline of her face. He brushed a bit of hair away and dropped a light kiss on her temple, not wanting to wake her. He didn’t need the light. Somehow she had imprinted on his heart. He’d been called invincible, powerful and potent. He’d never felt it until Lacy. With her, he could right every wrong in the world.

Lacy called him her hero. He wished it was true.

Erik had a nasty habit of leaving his pockets full of trash. Lacy emptied his jeans, throwing away two crumpled receipts, chewing gum wrappers, and straw papers. The change, strange screws and loose bullets she dumped into a small bowl on the shelf above the dryer. There were so many pockets in his black work pants, she never knew what she’d find. Today, she found a note addressed to her.

Lacy,

I prefer you put your hand in my pocket while I’m wearing the pants.

~Erik

Light, giggly feelings filled her as she scooped up the full basket of folded clothes and headed back to the apartment. The scent of blood hit her just outside of the laundry room. The rhythmic swish-swoosh of the washer underscored curses from down the hall. Pulse throbbing in her throat, Lacy set the basket down and tip-toed toward the second door. Dray’s apartment was one she hadn’t been in yet and Erik told her it was a good thing. Apparently, Dray was a slob.

A grungy sock had snagged on the corner of the door and prevented the latch from engaging. Voices filtered out. “Sela took it better than I thought she would.”

“We were being good little soldiers, helping the Righteous. Damn it, Mad, you’re hitting bone there.”

Nomad sounded distracted. “Whine, whine, whine. I told you to move.”

“The Leech I was dancing with was leading, sue me.” Dray hissed like a cat. “Oh man. I’m going to puke.”

“The blade punctured a vein. You’re bleeding all over the place. We should’ve done this in the medi-room.”

“Lacy might’ve walked in. Just hurry up, I’m getting spacey.” Dray’s pain-laden words rasped rather than sang. “It was worth it, you know, the fighting. I just can’t sit on my ass and do nothing.”

“We’re not doing nothing. We’re trying to find the other Sci—”

“Fucking hell, Mad, those’re my nuts you’re leaning on!”

“Then move them so I can get in here. You’re damn lucky you still have a dick.”

“Bless the Virgin for favors.”

Nomad snorted. “You might want to ask for some help dealing with Sela. She was a little pissed.”

“Little pissed I can deal with. It’s when she get super pissed that my asshole puckers. How much longer?”