“And what do you think your touch is doing?” I say breathlessly as his hand reaches down, down, starts gathering up the ends of my dress until his fingers make contact with my bare inner thigh.
“I know exactly what my touch is doing,” he says, voice simmering, and he brings his hand further up until it meets my wetness. “My dear, how fucking drenched you are.”
I brace, and then he’s wrapping his hand around my throat, pulling me back as his fingers plunge deep inside me, the air escaping my lungs. I gasp, the sound caught in my throat as his palm presses against my pulse.
It doesn’t take long for me to come. Either I’m permanently a hair-trigger around him, or his using some sort of magic, but I’m shuddering on his fingers, rocking into his hand, my body jerking violently. I’d fall to the ground, my legs turned to jelly, but his grip around my throat and pussy keep me upright.
“Solon,” I try to cry out, but the sound is smothered by his grip, my eyes rolling back in my head as the orgasm filets me from the middle. His breath is hot and labored at my neck, and even as I’m coming, I can tell it’s taking everything in him to keep himself restrained.
Finally he releases me, pulls his hand away, but not before I hear him run his fingers under his nose, inhaling sharply.
Sweet Jesus.
“There,” he whispers behind my ear, his teeth razing against my neck. “That should placate you for now.”
The heady grip of the orgasm finally shakes loose at his words. I whirl around, a little dizzy on my feet.
“Placate me?” I repeat. The phrase makes me feel dirty.
He gives me a quick, crooked smile. “Perhaps you’re not the only beast that needs to be tamed. Come along now, we have company.”
He takes me by the elbow and leads me out of the room. Despite just getting off, it’s only made my sexual frustration double. What he did didn’t placate me—it just made me want more. The more he makes me come, the more I want to keep coming, and though his fingers are skilled, I’m even more desperate for the feel of his cock deep inside me. That connection.
But those urges and thoughts pause when we walk past the roses on the table in the hall.
They aren’t dead.
Even though Solon would have passed by them to come in my room, and even though he’s passing by them now, they’re still alive, blooming with blood.
“Well, well, well,” he says, coming to a stop and eyeing them curiously. “How about that, Lenore.”
I blink at them. “They won’t die anymore.”
He eyes me, looking impressed, then he snaps his fingers together.
The roses automatically wilt.
“That’s a dickhead move,” I grumble at him, though I’m secretly impressed by him now. A snap of his fingers was all it took. He’s not even a witch, why can’t I learn how to do something like that?
He grins at me, his teeth sharp. “I’m known for my magic fingers.”
I roll my eyes at that, even though my body burns in response, knowing all too well. We head down the rest of the stairs until we finally reach Dark Eyes.
Like before, the music is audible, there’s loud chatter, and through the doors I can smell all the vampires in there, their spicy, acidic melting pot of scents overwhelming my senses. I put my hand on his arm, halting him.
“Tell me again why you throw parties for vampires who hate you?”
“Who says they hate me?” he asks, quickly doing up his bowtie with expert precision.
“You’re a bounty hunter. You turn over your own kind to witches.”
“This is true,” he says, a slight smile on his lips, as if he finds this conversation amusing. “But I give them something in return, other than the occasional witch. I give them a place to be themselves, where they are safe. A place to feed. And I have a rule that I never take or harm a vampire inside this house…unless they bring it on themselves.”
“How noble,” I say dryly.
“Noble, I am not,” he says, linking his arm around mine. “But fair is something I aspire to be.”
And at that, he pushes open the doors and we walk in.
Chapter Twenty
As happened the last time I went to a vampire party, every single head in Dark Eyes swivels toward us, but this time they look a little more wary than they did before. Perhaps because I’m still here and that I belong to the man of the house, the vampire boss of the city of San Francisco.
At first, Solon keeps to his word, to never let me leave his side, always keeping his arm tightly around my waist. We go from vampire to vampire, saying hello and exchanging pleasantries. No hands are shaken though, and he keeps me just out of everyone’s reach. They’re all interested in me, but I don’t fear them per se, it’s more that they may fear me, and that’s something I can deal with.
But eventually, Solon turns into a social butterfly in this place, and soon he’s going around, having deep conversations with people, leaving me on my own.
Okay, well I’m not on my own.
I smile up at Wolf, who is sticking by my side.
“You don’t have to babysit me,” I tell him. “I know that’s your job when Solon isn’t around.”
Wolf gives me a charming smile, looking devilishly handsome in his white tux. “Perhaps I like your company, Lenore, did you ever think of that?”
“Phhff,” I wave him away. “I’m not the company you crave.”
He frowns at me, sparks in his golden eyes. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” I say, leaning in close, knowing how good everyone’s hearing is, “I’ve seen the way you look at Amethyst.”
He gazes at me steadily. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, half-witch.”
I can’t help but smile at my new nickname. If he’s trying to be insulting, it isn’t working. “Me think you doth protest too much,” I tease.
“Whatever,” he says, folding his arms across his chest and looking elsewhere. Hey, if Amethyst can tell me how I feel about Solon, I can tell Wolf how he feels about Amethyst.
“Is that a band?” I ask, looking at the stage where five musicians have gathered. I hadn’t even noticed they’d set up, with a drum set and everything.
“The live music is one of the biggest draws,” Wolf tells me as he faces the stage. “Well, that and the blood. And the band is the best you’ll ever hear. Probably because they’ve had centuries of practice.” He gives me a wink.
They start up, jumping into “Fly me to the Moon,” by Frank Sinatra. The singer looks nothing like Frank with his longish blonde hair, but he sure does sound like him.
“Care to dance?” Wolf asks me.
I stare at him, then look at all the vampires taking to the dance floor, all of them moving in perfect synchronicity. They’ve also had centuries of practice.
“I’ve never danced like that before,” I admit sheepishly. “Even at prom, I was getting high in the back of my date’s truck most of the time.”
Wolf laughs and holds out his hand for me. “It’s just a waltz. Very simple. Plus, the vampires who have just turned are as lost as you are.”
I shake my head, not willing to be a fool.
“You chicken?” he asks.
I give him a dirty look. “I am not chicken.”
“I mean, Solon is already dancing with Sade,” he says.
“What?” I look around him and see Solon waltzing with a gorgeous ebony-skinned vampire in a beautiful white satin dress. “Sade the singer? That’s not Sade.”
“She calls herself Sade because she sings at a local jazz club, doing Sade cover songs. She’ll do one soon, you’ll see.”
Well, I can’t fault Solon for dancing with her, especially as they seem to be in deep conversation as they effortlessly glide across the dance floor. They’re truly mesmerizing to watch, and my heart pangs with jealousy, admiration, and longing. He truly is the most beautiful being on the face of this earth, his masculinity and grace combining to make a spellbinding package that makes the w
hole room watch.
“Think you’ve picked it up enough?” Wolf asks in a wry tone.
I sigh loudly, and as he puts his hand out for me again, I plunk mine in his. “I’m warning you, I’ve got no rhythm.”
He gives me a cheeky grin as he grasps my hand, pulling me to him. “As I recall, the two of us found a rhythm quite easily.”
I don’t have to think long to know what he’s talking about.
“For your information,” I tell him as he puts his hand at my lower back, my cheeks on fire, “I don’t remember much of that.”
Another grin. “That’s okay. I remember enough for the both of us.”
I roll my eyes, feeling mortified. I know I wasn’t myself at all during the “lust” stage (although, to be fair, I was just as desperate for Solon’s touch then as I am now), but even so, what I do remember is a doozy. Wolf has skills, and if he ends up using them on Amethyst one day—if he hasn’t already—then she’s a lucky girl.
But despite whatever rhythm Wolf and I had in the bedroom, it’s not translating to the dance floor. I know he’s supposed to lead and I’m supposed to go backward, but I keep tripping over my own feet and bumping into vampires, trails of “excuse me” and “sorry” following in our wake.
It feels like forever before the song ends and everyone comes to a stop. I look up at Wolf, feeling embarrassed, hoping he doesn’t ask me to dance again. He’s not letting go of me, so that’s not a good sign.
Then a familiar bassline and staccato drumbeat starts up, still a waltz, but more languid and sensual in tempo, accompanied by gritty guitar. Wolf starts to move with me again just as a gorgeous voice rings out across the night club.
It’s the faux Sade up on stage, hands delicately clasped around the microphone, singing the real Sade’s “No Ordinary Love.”
Damn, she’s good.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Solon’s icy voice cuts between us.
Wolf tightens his grip on me. “Dancing with Lenore. Trying to find that rhythm we once had.”
I stiffen, staring up at Wolf. Does the man have a death wish?
Solon practically bristles, his face glowering. “Let go of her.”
“I’m not sure that’s what Lenore wants,” Wolf says, and when he turns to me, he winks. What the hell is he doing? Trying to make Solon jealous?
And that’s when it hits me. That is what he’s doing. And it’s not of his own accord, this is because of Amethyst.
“I’m fine dancing with Wolf,” I say, feeling petty. “We’re good at this.”
Solon gives me the coldest look. “Oh, please. You have two left feet.” He reaches out and grabs my elbow, yanking me out of Wolf’s grasp. “And whatever rhythm you shared was only because you were picturing me the whole time.”
I tear my eyes away from Solon’s burning gaze and look to Wolf with a raised brow. I think it worked.
“Perhaps,” Wolf says, giving us a smile that suits his name, then he turns and walks off through the club.
“Amateur,” Solon mutters under his breath.
Then he puts his arm at my lower back, pressing me close to him, taking my other hand in his. “You want to dance?” he says gruffly, his gaze still burning. “I’ll show you what it’s really like to dance.”
I’m about to remind Solon that I have two left feet, when suddenly we’re gliding backward through the crowd. My feet aren’t even moving on my own power, it’s like they’re doing it naturally.
I stare up at Solon, his eyes so close to mine, I see the blue becoming less cold, though his brow is more determined. “What are you doing to me?” I whisper. “This isn’t me dancing.”
“This is you dancing,” he says, now with a hint of a smile. “You’re a natural.”
“No,” I tell him, looking around us as he spins me around the dance floor, other vampires watching, parting for us. “You’re doing something. Magic? Compelling?”
“Neither,” he says. “It’s just you responding to me. That’s all.”
He says it so simply.
“Sometimes you just need to find the right partner,” he says, his eyes resting on my lips.
“Well, damn,” I tell him, and around and around we go, like I’ve been dancing my whole life, with him at my side. “You should get jealous more often.”
“Jealous?” he repeats, eyes flashing again, his grip at my back strong, fastening me to him so we’re connected at our hips. “Who said anything about being jealous?”
“You didn’t seem to like Wolf touching me,” I point out, enjoying this. “You especially didn’t like the mention of Wolf fucking me.”
He lets out a low growl, brows lowered until his eyes are in shadow. “Don’t you dare say those words again unless you want to face the consequences.”
Oh, I got him. I got him good.
“Does it bother you that he got to taste and touch me before you did?”
His nose flares, mouth twisted grimly. “Lenore, don’t,” he warns.
He’s so close to going over the edge. I shouldn’t poke the bear—or provoke the beast in this instance—but I can’t help myself. Perhaps I really am a wicked creature at heart.
“So far I think he’s made me come more times than you have.”
It’s like watching a bomb go off.
A low, guttural rumble sounds from the depths of him, sending chills down my spine, and his eyes fasten to mine with an intensity that takes my breath away.
Before I know what’s happening, he whisks me off the dance floor and drags me to the cigar lounge, throwing open the door.
The lounge is filled with smoke and vampires, four of whom are gathered around the billiards table at the end, and fear shoots through me because I have no idea what he’s about to do and why we’re here.
He brings me to the table, the vampires muttering in surprise, pulling their cues away, and then snaps his fingers.
Just like that a doorway licked by flames appears in front of us, the table grey and empty on the other side, and he picks me up by my waist.
Before I can protest, he’s pushing me through into the Black Sunshine and placing me on the edge of the billiards table, everything going gray and quiet, the vampires turning into glowing figures, seeming frozen on the spot, staring in our direction. The flames disappear, locking us in this world.
“What are you—”
But my words are cut off by his mouth, a hard, searing kiss that makes my toes curl. I grasp his head, his shoulders, immediately finding another rhythm with him, this one more passionate and wilder than the one on the dance floor.
A ragged groan tears from his throat, our tongues fucking each other, deeper and deeper, and this is messy and violent and rough and—oh god—I don’t want him to ever stop.
But he does. He gasps for breath, chest heaving, mouth open and wet and wanting. His eyes search mine quickly, feverish and raw, as if trying to control himself and failing. Then he pushes me back on the billiard table, grabs the end of my dress and hikes it up to my waist, leaving me bare.
The glowing figures of the vampires barely move, and I know it’s because time is different here, and I know that they can’t really see me, but in some ways I wonder if they can, because their heads are all glued to Solon’s between my thighs.
“Can they—” I start.
But I’m cut off again by his wicked mouth, this time his tongue sliding up my pussy until I’m gasping. My head rolls back against the table, and I’m staring up at the black and white cigar lounge ceiling, with those ghostly figures of the vampires staring at me. I can feel their eyes, but as Solon thrusts his tongue deep inside me, my eyes fall closed and I’m lost to him again.
His tongue makes quick work of me, lapping me up with broad strokes, and then I’m coming hard, crying out, trying to catch my breath.
My body is still shaking and he’s grabbing me with strong hands, flipping me over so I’m on my stomach. I hear the sharp zip of his fly coming down, a sound that sends shockwaves
through me, and then I feel the weight of him behind me as he gets on the table.
“Can they see us?” I ask, my voice catching in my chest, my heart fluttering like hummingbird wings.
“In a way,” he says gruffly, his hands wrapping around my waist again and pulling me up so I’m on all fours, my ass pressed against him. I feel the shocking heat of his long, thick cock against my bare hip.
“In a way?” I repeat.
He inhales audibly and, before I can prod him again, his cock slams inside me to the hilt.
“Fuck!” I scream, my nails digging into the gray felt of the table, leaving scratches. My lungs are emptied of air, my eyes wide, and all I feel is him inside me, like he’s taking up all viable space, his hips pressed squarely against my ass.
A low throaty groan falls from his lips, powerful fingers pressing into my skin, and that sound alone seems to unleash the frenzy from deep within the both of us. He starts pumping into me, long hard thrusts that make my breasts fall out of my dress, that shakes the whole damn table, the whole fucking room. The ghostly figures seem to watch our every move, and it’s no longer disconcerting, instead it’s turning me on.
“Lenore,” he growls. “Look at what you’re doing to me.”
I cry out sharply in response as he pistons his hips sharply, my knees sliding against the felt of the table, friction everywhere. “You have an obsession with making me come in public,” I manage to say, just before he smacks my ass with a flat palm, enough force to make my teeth knock together.
“Fuck, Solon!” I yelp.
He grunts in response, continuing to fuck me with so much ferocity that I’m getting whiplash, my ass getting a few more powerful slaps of his hand until the pain and the pleasure intertwine again, building and building.
I keep my eyes open, feeling the orgasm coming for me, watching the glowing shapes of the vampires, knowing that if they can’t see us, then they can definitely feel what we’re doing, maybe even hear it. I want them to know, I want everyone to know how good Solon fucks me.
“That’s it,” he rasps from behind me. “Everyone knows. Everyone knows you belong to me, that it’s my big cock that keeps you coming over and over again.”
Black Sunshine Page 28
