Zauran (5 page)

Melting, lost in the euphoria of the emotional turbulence and vapid desire arcing my spine with subconscious craving, I glide in a dreamy state to press against the satin heat of his body, surrendering to the probe of his tongue and the stake of the fingers he has entwined in my hair.

I'm so wet with pleading need I'm sure he can sense it.

Lifted up, moved so fast the world blurs around me, his voice is a dirge carrying deep and low and stealthy as it roams across the prairies of my mind,
I can. And it's making me throb.

My keys jangle in his haste down stairs, rattling like a chain made up of links of silver sin. Earthy hued walls are wiped with our shadows as he rushes us through the arteries of his home to the fated room where he first hid me away from the world.

The temperature changes as he steps into the hideaway and his grip lessens marginally.

His muscles are rigid with tension when he drapes me onto the couch in the secret den, pausing to inhale my breath from my lungs with the suction of his mouth on mine. His teeth tease the lip between them as he extricates slowly, reluctance stalking his movement.

I'll be right back.

I watch him sprint to hide my car away with a desperate pulse firing rapidly into the seam where my jeans join.

It's automatic, I slip my hand in the hollow of my legs and press down to dull the sensation, gasping at the sensitivity and pleasure of the pressure.

Chapter 6

Zaria:

The heartbeat clanging my blood in a pound through every vein is now bashing an insistent tattoo across the swollen readiness of my arousal.

Curling into the chair, I bury burning cheeks against cool leather. Exhilaration scorches my skin into the fervent ache of frisky scintillation.

My skin is alive with so many nerve endings missing his lips, pining for those incredible fingertips, shivering for the quenching thrust of his tongue – it's a curse driving the pain of separation into the cavernous hollow between my hips, slippery with the obsession to have the void filled,
now
.

Gripping the arm of the couch I sink nails into it, my breath too shallow and shaky to be healthy.

Staring at the fifties diner decoration in this den with walls of serpentinite, it reminds me again of Venix. The greenish-yellow stone scarred with dark veins is the only stone that can protect humans and withstand a nuclear detonation. The lines arcing through the waxy stone are magnetic. Venix explained it works much the same way as a credit card's magnetic strip, storing information with the same principle.

That magnetic stone also jams the senses of neuri and vampyre. When we're in here no one can sense us. This is a secret, one he shared with me the very first day he took me away from my home. Venix's entire home was created with this stone. Crushed into powder it can fill safe doors and act as one more shield against location and tracking – and attack.

This room has a safe door.

Zauran risked everything in his life to get to know me. He kidnapped me just to introduce himself, because the war between the vampyre and neuri meant he'd never get close to me without resorting to extreme measures.

Venix will always be a special person to me, kept locked in the memory chest in my heart. I wish he was still here, I could use his counsel. This room reminds me of him – and of the first moment Zauran broke my defenses and branded my life with his vulnerabilities.

He was so honest and without pride, it just makes me hornier waiting here for him, clinging to the chair, my body lambasting me with dire desire. He sounded so defenseless and borderline desperate when he told me the history the vampyre had omitted to share.

Sound breaks the reverie.

His footsteps leap into the room with a decisive thud and I look up to see his eyes wild, his hair untidy and disheveled the way it always is, bringing with him the garroting fresh air of a soldier sent to storm clouds into your heart and to wash through your mind with hurricanes of tempest.

He doesn't hesitate, it's bold and determined when he undoes the top button of his jeans, rushing at me to thump a landing hand either side of my head and squashing me immediately with air chilled lips and brisk breath.

His chest smothers mine and the slick of my desire turns into deluge. Squirming hands between us I yank open the button on my jeans and pull the zip down without divorcing the pressure of his lips for one second. Racing my tongue over his I taste every corner of his mouth with my eyes closed. Pushing at the waistband of my jeans my movement is halted with iron fingers blocking my wrists, snaring them away to expose my breasts to him.

Shifting like a sand dune, effortless but impressive in grace and stature, like a mountain crafting a new peak he cascades lips over my nipples while his free hand hauls my jeans off, his following, and I'm trembling when skin presses to skin in a primal dance driven by primeval subconscious demand.

Savoring his smell, his power, his weight, his everything, my breath is coming out in forceful gusts as if I was the one running and not him.

He releases my hands to adjust my position beneath him and I whimper at the luxurious brush of his legs against mine, caressing my calves over the chenille texture of his, clamping my legs around him with impatient need.

Tracing my hands down the planes of his back, the curse lifts when my fingers slip into the deep dimples above his ass, and it jerks him into the origin of my craving.

Subjugated by his nearness and strength, I quiver, waiting, immobile; staring into the nebulous narcotic flowing in mesmerizing drapes from his eyes.

It's surreal when he manipulates my body to fill every niche of his, his arm so tight around my waist now I'm held fast, unable to squirm an inch.

Hot polished skin taunts me as he aims around my thrumming cavity, slipping the solid mass in the lust leaking from my body, around and over, firm and teasing, flicking over the hard bullet pulsing with a need of its own between my legs.

It's too much, my ache is killing me, and I stutter a whine into the shoulder braced over my head, pressing begging lips to the skin of his chest which hides the heart that beats in a song heard only by the exulted.

Tears gather in my eyes when I hold my breath, ready to scream with frustration, so desperate, so appallingly reduced to a pinprick point of destiny.

This moment is surely written into the lines of my hands and buried in a crystal ball hidden in heaven's vault.

Strong hands brush my hair back, pinning my chin up and arching my spine when heavy forearms rest on my long hair, imprisoning me in the frame of his body, of his arms; poised in complete vulnerability beneath him, my mouth open to draw shaky breaths, as wet and swollen as the kiss waiting for him between the legs he has splayed so easily below the crush of his hips.

His smile is so demure and delicate, the touch of his lips claiming mine so gentle, it is a paradox to the urgency that is whipping us to consecrate our fate.

Velveteen heat rides into me when his mouth binds my broken breath, driving into me with his tongue and simultaneously with his body, swallowing the oath of my moan, claiming all of me with merciless precision.

Quaking with overload, my body explodes inward and outward like shrapnel thrown through me from Haydes. Squealing against his plunging tongue my voice sounds far away and fo
reign - I sound like an animal beyond despair. My thighs burn with the erratic heat spreading from the numbing and overriding pleasure of his body sliding in and out of mine.

Oh sweeeeeet holy ground.

It's like a plague infiltrating every cell in my body, bursting it into rioting anarchy before immediately draining it of all sustenance and strength.

Weak, melting into an amoeba-like state, aware of only one moment in all creation, his lips fade away, his breath, his scent, his weight, nothing else matters but the shredding ecstasy chasing up into my body, spreading down my legs, numbing my toes and tingling my fingertips, it's complete and gloriously excruciating.

The world fades when I shudder, my nipples icin
g and turning hard as rocks when my orgasm squeezes the treacle heat of my tenderness against a body so dominant.

It's impossible to escape the endless pressure forcing me to crest and breach the envelope of release.... it's a paradise of swells and highs, smuggling his essence into every slither of my soul.

Hyperventilating, clutching to tungsten muscles in his shoulders, I slowly come back into myself, to open my eyes to stare into his, to kiss my gratitude on every pore of his face that I can reach from my prison, overwhelmed with the intensity of us unleashed.

Inside the whoosh of the receding wave; my torment eased with the salve of incredible euphoria, he lays siege to my body.

It's fire swimming through water when his aquamarine light pours over me like the dragon's breath from dry ice, his chest burying me when he pins his forehead on mine and skids an immense pressure deeply in and out of me, pounding like a knight destroying the castle doors. His effort trickles sweat from him onto my forehead, his grip clamping me with such ferocity I'm afraid he'll break me. His hands have my head so tightly captured, he's no longer conscious of me, or of his mammoth stature and strength.

I focus with him, wanting to savor the moment, ignoring the concern of the vice he's exerting on my temples with fingers tensed in tandem with the rest of his frame.

Closing my eyes I concentrate, feeling him deep within me, and it's strange. There is a hook, a ridge, something... it prevents him from pulling out. Like a lover's clause which was written for the first defenders, you give and take in equal measure. There's no stopping halfway, both partners explode or you cannot disengage.

It's such a peculiar sensation, but when it bolts up to the deepest part of me it's like having someone lick my lust into a part of me that I had no clue existed.

It's another erogenous zone available to the select few with the equipment.

Oh my god!

I can feel it, it blossoms, expanding, filling and rubbing that hidden point, and the strange sound he elicits from deep within me stretches up to join the jagged breath he's gasping over my mouth.

Pulling against the tug of every hair follicle I can't prevent the buck, the curve, the bolt of transcendental power pouring through me and tipping me over a zenith, screaming into the mouth hovering over mine when he rips through me like a molten strand of silver slipping over a sheet of ice.

It destroys me in increments. I cannot withstand this much pleasure, it leaves me obliterated. His orgasm literally lathers my blood in the echo of his rupture, coating and cloaking my soul with the light of a trillion galaxies all focused on vibrating my body with a resonance of bliss.

Slumping, my head spinning and with hollow points of darkness blinding me, I sag against the leather, unable to feel my legs at all, just the frantic rapping of my heart.

When he climaxed it felt as if someone had just filled my body with manna. Dissolving, sweet, beyond euphoric, it broke gravity and strewed heaven's floor with me as I catapulted into a stratosphere of rhapsody. He is so precious it bangs my raw nerves like a mallet on a recent amputation.

The grip on my head lessens and loving lips press over mine, moving to my neck.

He squeezes me in a final death grip hug as the rasp of a graveled and fractured voice says in my ear, “I'm never letting you go.”

Chapter 7

Zauran
:

I love her lady noises. Forget whale songs on CD, record her when her TNT is unstable and I'd have a permanent grin, and be raging hard.

Stormy blue eyes glazed with satiated desire engage mine.

Ryan fucked up part of this process for me, but not all of it. Dipping in to pilfer her thoughts, I have to swallow my laugh at her inner comedian.

You have to let me go or you'll squash me and I'll have a very short life. At least I can say I died with a smile on my face.

So which part of that was the 'unusual sexual trait' he referred to the first time we ended up naked together? I can think of more than one unusual trait I've just lived through. Holy fuck!

Ignoring her internal dialog I lift her up with me, sitting us so I can rest my shoulders and back against the couch. She's pliant and supple, one more star on the Zaria chart.

I don't want to disengage. I could spend the rest of the week deep inside the sticky heat of her. With her swollen up tight against me like a narrow pouch made of hot wet mouth, I close my eyes and lean my head back, savoring it and getting another pounding hard-on.

I want to fuck her to next month.

Opening my eyes as I fill her, expanding in every way, even my lungs expand in my chest as if readying for a race; I am perplexed.

Why you? What makes you so different?

I'm not human, in any way, but you make me feel like one. It's the light floating just beneath the surface. The light Ryan cock-blocked me over. I want to taste it with every fiber of my body, but now I have to wait for full moon. I was so close, covering you with gloaming, ready to withdraw it and weave my
Plyx
with yours, and he shut it down with three little words.