Vincent: Her Warlock Protector Book 5 (11 page)

As her knees sagged, he pulled out of the kiss and spun her around. With his forearm between her breasts his hand grasped her shoulder. He held her with her back molded to his chest.
 

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, hot in her ear.

His free hand roamed over her exposed body. Fingers stroked her stomach, scratched at her thigh then pinched and pulled at her nipples while he licked and bit her exposed neck until she groaned.
 

“Vincent, please.”
 

He pressed her against the wall, lifting both hands above her head. Her right cheek and breasts pressed against its coolness. Heat radiated from Vincent’s body, warming her back. For a precious few seconds she drifted, high on the twin sensation of being hot and cold, aroused and exhausted. As she leaned against the wall, she felt his hands leave her. In the mirror, she watched him deftly open and don a condom.
 

Then he was there again, pressed against her back, his legs to the outside of hers as he slid into her. She moaned in a shuddering sigh, helpless in his grasp. The fingers that had gently gripped her hips, smoothed up her ribs, then her arms, to lace his fingers with hers.

There was something primal about being held against the wall, her hands pinned by his, their fingers twined together. His broad chest brushed across her shoulder blades with each thrust. His hot breath was in her ear when he was not leaving wet, sucking kisses across her shoulders and neck. With each stroke she felt stronger. Her muscles stopped aching. The pounding in her head dissipated. She braced herself against the wall to push back against him, meeting his every stroke, biting her bottom lip to stop the small sounds that wanted to escape.
 

His hands ran down her back, up her sides, then around to cup and squeeze both her breasts as he thrust harder. Then he slid out of her, and spun her around to face him. With his hands under her thighs, her back pressed to the wall, he raised her legs to wrap around his waist as he reentered her in one smooth motion.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Harder.”

She’d barely had to ask. Vincent’s powerful body flexed under hers, lifting her, thrusting into her, over and over. He speared upward, filling her in a place that needed him so badly she couldn’t get enough.

“Faster,” she whimpered.

He grunted now, moving quickly, the primal rhythm mounting as tension coiled deep inside her. His groin thudded against her, shaking her, demanding her body surrender to him. His arousal spread her, stretched her to the point of pain. And still he didn’t stop. But as his hips flew into a staccato burst of frenzied pumping, the tidal wave of ecstasy broke over her. She writhed, unable to stop herself, and screamed out his name. Her climax exploded with a fierceness that was blinding. Where their bodies joined, she clenched hard on him, out of control.

“Yes,” Vincent hissed, as he buried himself deep inside her.

His arousal thickened, and then jerked, in time with his grunting. His climax was just as hard, his thrusting erratic, unpredictable, and seemingly unending. She milked him, not wanting it to stop, the sound of his satisfaction driving her. He bucked under her, leaning into her, his arms still under her thighs. Finally, their hips slowed, until he only swiveled his in a small circle. She reveled in the seductive motion, moved by him, and felt herself float free.

AMANDA WANTED TO run a marathon, do some jumping jacks, eat everything in the airplane’s kitchen then run another marathon. She did not feel better, she felt
fantastic
. This having sex as the path to renewal thing could be addictive. The urge to try every spell she had collected was only held at bay by a desire to not accidentally crash the plane. So she paced up and down the aisle while putting Vincent through a lightning round of questions. It was around question twenty when it hit her.

“Where are we going?”

“Vegas.” Vincent shrugged. “Where else are we going to arrive in the middle of the night with a sheep and not draw attention to ourselves?”

"I'm not sure how we are going to do it in Vegas."

"With a leash."

Amanda stopped pacing, eyes narrowed.

“You're kidding."

"Nope." Vincent was kicked back, his legs stretched in front of him, crossed at the ankle. He grinned. "Should be fun."

"Where do you live?"
 

The pacing resumed. She felt alive, tingling from head to toe with energy.
 

"Cambria, California, but we won't be able to go back there for a while."

"Weeks?"

"A lifetime."
 

It hit her all at once and she stepped back, physically staggered by the thought. He might have stepped into her life, but to move forward they would need to forge something entirely new together. She could be anyone, live anywhere, do anything. Endless possibility opened before her at the thought of sitting down and choosing elements of a life out of a box. And, if all that Paulina said was true, they would be able to do it over, and over, and over again
forever.
A wave of vertigo forced her to sit down.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah," her eyes were wide when she looked at Vincent. "What's going to happen next?"

"What do you want to happen next?”

SIX MONTHS LATER

Amanda closed the door to the salon, the electronic lock clicking shut behind her. The fresh laid gravel of the parking area crunched under her boots as she walked the few steps to the old dairy which had been converted into a house by the previous owner.
 

They had found a wonderful place to live, even if they had not chosen it so much as closed their eyes and picked from the pile of possibilities. While she missed the Gulf, the weather in Tennessee was better for Dalya. The hillsides were covered in thick, green grass year round, skies were clear and the water clean. It was no tiny yard here, but a rolling landscape hemmed by a split rail fence and stone walls that had been in place for more than a hundred years. There were moments when she would catch herself staring at either the house or surrounding hills, marveling at how they had managed to get here, but thankful they had.
 

She fed Dalya and Zero the border collie before going into the house a smile on her face as she thought about the number of women who had sat in her chair at the salon who’d told her that the beauty of being in a relationship was never having to date again. She and Vincent had started dating three months after they started living together. Not to fulfill any deficit in the relationship, but because it was fun. An excuse to get out and explore this place neither of them knew, eat at a new restaurant, see a movie, and come to learn their new home together.
 

Amanda could hear Vincent on the phone as she walked past his open office door, down the hall and into the bedroom. She dumped her clothes in the hamper and stepped into the shower of their en suite bathroom. The warm water soothed her as she stood under the spray, letting the water soak through her hair and roll down her back.

She felt Vincent's presence in the shower before his hands began to chase the water droplets down her back. That Vincent was a sensualist continued to be a delightful discovery. Not one to rush to the end, he took his time, reveled in each moment they had together. With aching slowness he ran the soapy sponge over her body, stealing little kisses as his hands became bolder, only to slow down again to gently work her mint scented shampoo through her hair, careful fingers massaging her scalp then pushing the hair away from her face as the shampoo was rinsed away.
 

Hands shaking from the arousal which coursed through her veins, she ran the sponge over his shoulders, across his pecs and down the hard ridges of muscle that defined his stomach. Then she sank to her knees in front of him as her hand drifted lower to brush the last of the lingering suds from his body, her mouth branding his skin as she went. She let her hot breath caress his growing arousal. With a deft slide of her tongue along its length, she took him in her mouth.
 

Vincent’s hands slapped against the white tiles to either side, as he stared down at her.
She teased and tormented, watching as the expressions of lust, pleasure and awe flickered across his face. The muscles of his strong legs rippled under her palms as she ran her hands up the backs of his thighs to squeeze his ass.
 

“Stop,” he groaned. Vincent's eyes were squeezed shut, face twisted in strain as his shoulders shook. “Not like this.”

Amanda sat back on her heels with a smile, her lips swollen, hands resting on the front of his thighs.
 

Vincent's eyes popped open as he exhaled with a shudder. Hands under her arms, he lifted her from the shower floor to wrap her legs around his waist, hammering the shower lever off as he stepped out of the cubicle, his mouth sealed to hers. He carried her to their bed, water dripping a trail across the hardwood floor. For a moment he stood at the foot of the bed, tongue sliding along hers, then he broke the kiss as he threw her down on the bed.
 

It should have been wrong, but pure excitement sparked every nerve ending when her body bounced once on the comforter before she came to lay in the center of their bed. She bit her thumbnail to keep from writhing as he stood, silent, looming over her from the foot of the bed. His gaze was possessive, roaming over every inch of her body.
 

"I am going to make you scream so hard," he said, his voice husky and dark with promise.
 

"You have no idea how true that will be if you don't come here."

With a huge smile he fell on her, the water on their bodies mingling with sweat as he kissed her into a frenzy before pinning her hips to the bed with his hands. He pulled away with a smirk.
 

"Where are you going?"

"To make good on my promise."
 

Vincent's hands parted her legs as he lowered his face to her sex. Slowly, he opened her with his tongue. He gazed up her body as she gasped, her hands twisted in the comforter. His hands kneaded and caressed her thighs as his tongue worked on her.
 

She felt like she was falling, bracing for impact as every muscle in her body tightened in response to Vincent's attentions. He grasped her knees from underneath, spreading her legs wide and lifting her hips from the bed. With his elbows resting on the mattress, her feet dangled in open air as his mouth took what he wanted.
 

Her head tossed from side to side, a small whine escaped with each panted breath. Her thighs shook as her pleasure became sharp and immediate. Head thrown back against the comforter, body rigid, torn between the twin desperation for release and the desire for him to never stop. But it had to end.

"Vincent!" she screamed, as her body convulsed.

He wrung every bit of pleasure out of her shaking form. Her breath came in shivers and moans as he kissed, nipped and licked his way up to her breasts. He held her gaze as he sucked the entirety of her areola into his mouth, his tongue circling then flicking her nipple. Then he licked a flat, wet stripe up her sternum to the hollow of her throat.
 

Amanda held Vincent's face between her palms as he buried himself inside her. It was a slow burn, a fire they built together, truly joined with no barrier between them, no condom. As they moved, she dug her fingers into the hard plain of his back, scrambling for purchase. Though they hadn’t planned it, the moment was upon them. From this there was no going back. Without a word, she understood: immortality waited.
 

Vincent sat back on his heels, pulling Amanda up with him. His hands held her hips as she clung to his shoulders, her ankles hooked behind his back. Her weight dragged her down as he rose from below. Her vision narrowed to a tunnel, Vincent's blue eyes the only thing she could see. Sparks danced along the edge of the darkness, bright and shining as they climbed higher.
 

He filled her completely, and she closed her eyes, luxuriating in the feel of him inside. His hot glide was slow and sensual. Her hips gyrated in response. They moved together, drifting on the same ocean. Over and over his arousal lifted her, moving faster, thrusting higher. Time seemed to stop, only the rhythm of their union marking its passage.
 

Though Vincent still sat back on his heels, she realized he was laying her back. As her shoulders touched the comforter, he pulled her hips to him. It was a penetration unlike anything she had ever known. Her hands flew to the comforter and her back arched high. The stiff rod of his flesh was all she could feel. He pressed his palm over her belly and, incredibly, the pressure mounted.

“Oh yes,” he whispered above her. “
Yes
.”

Then the thrusting began. His hips flew forward, even as he tugged her to him. They collided with thuds that took her breath away. He moved faster, completely in control. Without stopping, he slid a hand down her belly. His thumb pressed over her mound, through the curls, and down to the sensitive nub. He circled and then fondled it.

She screamed again, not even knowing what she said. The hot rush of his climax filled her as he spilled himself deep inside, her name pouring off his lips. Then she shattered, her body bursting into a million pieces as she screamed, head thrown back, body limp as wave after wave of euphoria crashed over her. She could do nothing but hang in Vincent's arms as she shuddered, each point where they touched another caress of fire. She wanted to slam her thighs shut, to roll over and recover, but the pleasure was too much and she could not let go.
 

She felt the bed under her back and Vincent on top of her, but he hadn’t stopped. It was as though they were trapped in a cycle of pleasure. Her hips rose to his thrusts, even as the room began to spin. His head sank to the comforter next to hers, his arousal still jerking inside her. Still linked together in the middle of their bed, they finally became still and darkness engulfed her.