by I. T. Lucas
For some reason, she had her legs closed, and all his tongue could reach was the top of her slit—right where her little clit begged for his attention.
After a few seconds of his ministrations, her thighs separated, and he pushed them further apart to expose her petals.
“Lovely,” he smacked his lips. “My favorite nectar.” He speared his tongue into her opening.
Nathalie gasped, her bottom lifting up. Andrew slid his palms under it and cupped each cheek, massaging lightly in sync with his tongue.
It seemed Nathalie had forgotten that she was free to make as much noise as she wanted now, and for a minute or two her moans were subdued.
Either that or he wasn’t doing it right for her.
Andrew redoubled his efforts, pressing two fingers inside her as he lashed at her clit with his tongue. Nathalie hissed, then let out a deep, throaty moan before erupting in a scream loud enough to shake the entire building.
Or at least that how it sounded in his ears.
God Almighty, the woman had lungs. Andrew was positive that not only Fernando had heard his daughter, but so had every immortal in the building. Any moment now, he expected the front door to burst open with Guardians rushing in to save the poor woman who screamed as if someone was going at her with a butcher knife.
As she sucked in a breath, no doubt filling her lungs for another scream, he surged up and covered her mouth with his—his shaft aligning with her entrance completely coincidental.
Nathalie took it to mean he meant business and pushed up. The head glided effortlessly through her wetness, and he lost it, growling into her mouth as he pushed all the way inside her with one powerful thrust, ramming against her cervix.
Nathalie hissed, but he wasn’t sure whether from pleasure or discomfort and forced himself to hold still. “Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head. “It’s nothing. Don’t stop.”
So he’d hurt her.
Damn, the guilt had a very disconcerting effect on him, and he experienced something he’d never experienced during sex before.
Andrew went soft.
Nathalie wrapped her arms around him. “What’s the matter, baby?” She sounded worried, which doubled his guilt. Not only did he hurt her, he was also probably offending her by his very unmanly reaction.
Andrew lifted his head and looked into her loving eyes. “I’m sorry. I hurt you, and I’m mad at myself. The guilt is delivering an appropriate punishment.”
She grabbed his cheeks and brought his head down for a kiss. “Silly boy, who do you think you’re punishing? I told you it was nothing, and it’s not the first time that it happened. You are big, baby, and I love every delicious inch of you, fucking me like you can never get enough.”
And… he was back.
God, it was such a turn-on to hear Nathalie talk dirty. It was as if she turned into a different woman. Gone was the sweet, good girl, replaced by a sultry seductress. Only with him, though, no one else would ever get to see that side of her.
Moving slowly, he was careful not to surge all the way, keeping his thrusts slow and shallow and stoking the flames one tinder at a time.
“Please, Andrew, don’t tease me,” she murmured, clutching at his shoulders and digging her sharp nails into his flesh.
He could never deny her anything, not in this or anything else. Increasing the tempo, he was careful not to hit her cervix again, but it was getting increasingly hard to control his movements, especially with Nathalie lifting up on every thrust, meeting him halfway.
“God, Nathalie, you’re killing me…” Andrew hissed through clenched teeth as he let go, pounding into her like they both needed him to. With a shuddering groan, Nathalie’s sheath convulsed around him, and his seed erupted.
Andrew went still, every muscle in his body tensing as he poured every last bit into her, some primitive instinct guiding him to empty it all as deep inside her as it would go.
Nathalie’s climax went on and on, until Andrew collapsed breathless, at the last moment rolling off her but bringing her with him. As they lay sideways, their bodies pressed against each other’s, Andrew was reluctant to withdraw, but even though he was still hard, he wasn’t going for another round.
Nathalie wouldn’t have objected, but then she wasn’t as careful with herself as she needed to be in her condition. She needed him to make sure she didn’t overexert herself.
A few moments later, she started moving against him, prompting him to continue.
He clamped his hand on her butt to still her. “None of that, baby. You need to rest.”
She arched both brows. “Says who? I’m not tired.”
“Says I.” He pulled out.
With a sigh, Nathalie rolled onto her back and covered her eyes with her arm. “Don’t tell me you’re going to be like that the entire nine months. You’re going to drive me nuts.”
Andrew got out of bed and walked over to her side. “Come on, sweetheart, let’s get showered.” He snaked his hands under her knees to lift her up, but she slapped at his chest. “I can walk.”
“Okay…” He backed off.
As Nathalie swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up, her body swayed a little. Andrew caught her and held her against him. She let him for a couple of seconds, then pushed against his chest.
“I’m fine.”
Reluctantly, he let go, and she stepped around him, heading for the bathroom. A glance at the rumpled sheets stole his breath away.
There were blood spots everywhere.
Panicking, he called after her, “Nathalie!”
The urgency of his cry brought her running back. “What’s wrong?”
“Look.” He pointed at the bed.
Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, my God. What is that?”
“Blood!” He waved his hand.
“I know that is blood. But whose?”
He glanced at her inner thighs then at his deflated shaft, and sure enough, there was blood on both.
“We need to call Bridget.”
Nathalie nodded, looking just as scared as he felt.
Andrew made the call, then did a quick wipe down with a washcloth and got dressed. He waited for Bridget in the living room while Nathalie grabbed a quick shower.
Less than five minutes later, there was a knock on the door, and Andrew rushed to let the doctor in.
“Hello, Andrew, where is Nathalie?” Bridget asked in a calm tone as if she was on a social visit.
“I’m here.” Nathalie walked in, looking white as a ghost.
Bridget sat down and motioned for Nathalie to join her on the couch. Nathalie sat on the very edge.
“Tell me what happened.”
“There was blood on the sheet.” Nathalie’s voice quivered.
“How much blood?”
“I don’t know. What is considered a lot?”
“Was there a puddle or just a few stains?”
“A few small stains.”
“Did you experience any cramps?”
Nathalie shook her head.
“Yes, you did,” Andrew reminded her.
She waved a hand. “That wasn’t a cramp, just a little ouch.”
“Care to explain?” Bridget said.
Nathalie’s cheeked pinked, and she looked at Andrew. He wanted to tell her that this wasn’t a good time to be shy, but figured she was shaken enough. Besides, he had no problem saying what needed to be said.
“During penetration, I bumped against Nathalie’s cervix, and it was painful for her. After that, I was cautious, but we got carried away toward the end. Nathalie didn’t experience any more pain, but I suspect it was the work of the endorphins.”
Bridget smiled and patted Nathalie’s hand. “You have nothing to worry about. During pregnancy, extra blood flows to the cervix, and any bump against it may trigger a little bleeding. It’s normal, and is not a cause for concern.”
Nathalie slumped against the couch pillows. “That was one hell of a scare.”
Andrew squeezed in between his fiancée and the sofa’s armrest, wrapping his arm around Nathalie’s shoulders. She was still tense, and Andrew decided to lighten the mood. “I agree. It was terrifying. I thought here goes sex for the next nine months…”
Her small fist delivered a playful punch to his bicep. “You’re such a cad, Andrew, I don’t know what I see in you.”
“A hunk of a man, baby. You’re after my irresistible body.”
That earned him another punch.
Bridget laughed and pushed up to her feet. “Now that we have determined that the emergency wasn’t really an emergency, I’ll leave you kids to fool around.” She pointed a finger at Andrew. “Gently, mind you.”
He nodded. “Absolutely.”
Chapter 33: Robert
It was late at night when they’d arrived at Carol’s home, a small cottage in a nice, middle-class suburb. The inside was just as unassuming—a small living area with a fake fireplace, a kitchen that was open to the living area, two tiny bedrooms, and one bath. Not what he’d expected from a wealthy clan member.
Still, he wouldn’t have minded living there with her. It felt like home, or what he imagined a home should feel like. With where and how he’d grown up, his only points of reference were movies.
“Should I bring out things from the car?” He followed her around, not sure what he should do next.
“No. I’m going to call first and see if they want us to come in right away.”
“Couldn’t it wait until morning?”
“No. I don’t want to get in trouble again.”
“Again?”
She waved a hand. “I did a few stupid things in my time, and I didn’t like the consequences.”
That was interesting. Was his Carol a troublemaker? He wouldn’t put it past her.
“What did you do?”
She picked up the receiver and dialed a number. “It’s a story for another time.”
Drumming her fingers on the counter, Carol waited for her call to be answered. When it finally was, she didn’t start with a hello. “Brundar, we’ve just got to my place. What do you want us to do?”
She had called this Brundar fellow a couple of times from the road. Robert found it strange that her fitness coach was her liaison to whoever was in charge of the clan in Los Angeles.
“I’m coming to get you,” Robert heard the guy say.
“What about the rental, and what about our stuff?”
“I can take the Doomer, and you can stay and take care of it, or you can come along, and I’ll have someone drop you off at your place tomorrow.”
Robert bristled. The Doomer has a name, and he saved your friend’s ass.
“I’m coming with Robert.”
The guy disconnected without another word.
“When he gets here, we’ll transfer what we have in the rental to his car. I’ll come back for the rest of my stuff tomorrow.” Carol avoided his eyes as she spoke, and he wondered what she was feeling guilty about.
Whatever it was, it was too late to back out now. Besides, he would rather be a prisoner of the clan than get captured by the Brotherhood. There was no doubt in his mind where he would fare better—even if Carol’s relatives planned to torture him for information.
They waited in strained silence, and when a car finally slid into Carol’s driveway, Robert was glad to get out of there. The driver got out and met them halfway. He didn’t look like what Robert had imagined a fitness instructor would look like.
The man standing in front of him was a Guardian. Robert was willing to bet his life on it. Even though no weapons were clearly visible, he could tell the guy was packing, a lot, everywhere. And the way he carried himself was with the surety of a man who feared no one.
He heard Carol gasp when the guy offered his hand for a handshake and wondered why. Had she been expecting a pair of handcuffs?
“Welcome to the clan,” the guy said while Robert clasped his hand. “You have our gratitude.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to say that they had a strange way of showing it, but he had a feeling he should tread lightly with the man standing in front of him. Despite his almost feminine beauty, Brundar exuded a deadly aura. Cold eyes, not even Sebastian's eyes were that emotionless, and that flat, robotic tone…
This wasn’t a male to trifle with.
Robert nodded, and Brundar immediately withdrew his hand as if he couldn’t wait to sever the contact. Robert’s lips tightened into a thin line. The guy probably couldn’t stand touching a filthy Doomer.
“I’m glad to see you back home,” Brundar greeted Carol with a slight deep of his head. No handshake, no embrace, and Carol, who was a touchy-feely sort of girl, didn’t initiate any either.
Robert realized that he’d misinterpreted the guy’s reaction. Brundar didn’t like physical contact, and Carol was well aware of it. That was why she had gasped when the Guardian had offered his hand to Robert. It must’ve been a big deal for Brundar.
Robert felt a lot better.
“If you pop your trunk, I’ll transfer our things from the rental,” he told Brundar.
The guy nodded and pulled out a remote key from his leather jacket’s inside pocket. The vehicle’s back door lifted, and Brundar helped transfer the stuff without saying another word.
When Carol locked her front door and got in the back seat, Robert wasn’t sure if he should join her or sit up front with Brundar. His dilemma was solved when Brundar pulled a syringe out of his other pocket.
“I need to knock you out for the drive.” He hesitated for a moment before adding an explanation. “We can’t trust you yet, and our location is secret. I’m sure you would’ve done the same in our position.”
Yes, he would’ve, but it was a small consolation. “Am I going to be held prisoner?”
“Only until we question you and determine your true intentions.”
Robert frowned; that didn’t sound encouraging. “Are you going to torture me?”
“You have my word that no harm will come to you.”
“But I’m still going to be put inside a prison cell.”
Brundar shook his head, his long blond hair fanning around his disturbingly beautiful face. “You will be staying together with Carol in a very nice underground apartment.”
“A fancy cell.”
“Exactly.”
Well, it could’ve been worse. He motioned at the syringe. “How do you want to do it?”
“Get in the back and put your seatbelt on.”
As Robert got in and buckled up, Brundar leaned and without much preamble stuck the needle in his throat with the precision of an experienced medic. Robert felt a sting, then something cold entering his bloodstream, and then nothing at all.
Chapter 34: Amanda
An air of excitement suffused the shuttle as Amanda and her crew got comfortable for the ride. The flight had been uneventful. But regrettably, there had been no opportunity to join the infamous mile-high club. With no privacy to be had aside from the one and only bathroom, she’d given up on the idea. Twenty-five females on board, twenty-six if she counted the captain, guaranteed that there had always been a line to the coveted porcelain throne.
Besides, Dalhu had spent the entire flight in the cockpit. It wasn’t so much that he’d intimidated the girls, not after Amanda had introduced him as her boyfriend, but that he’d felt awkward as the only male among so many women.
She chuckled. Her unflappable, courageous warrior was intimidated by a bunch of human females. Even now, sitting next to her on the bus, he seemed uncomfortable, mostly physically, though. At six foot eight, he was too tall to fit in the narrow space between seats. His knees bumped against the back of the one in front of them, and he was forced to sit sideways, stretching his legs into the aisle.
“Pardon me.” Yet another female stepped over his legs to get to a friend sitting in the back.
Amanda cast her an annoyed glance, and the girl blushed, scurrying away. Were these supposedly trau
matized females stealing looks at her handsome mate?
She didn’t like it. Not at all. It had started in the restaurant they had stopped for lunch at. At first, just a few quick glances that could’ve been interpreted as curiosity, but some had not been so quick. The chits were getting bolder by the minute.
In a huff, Amanda crossed her arms over her chest.
“What’s the matter?” Dalhu asked.
“I think half of the hussies on this bus have the hots for you, and it pisses me off.”
“Shh, they’ll hear you,” he whispered in her ear. “And I think you’re imagining it. I’m flattered by your jealousy, though.” There was a satisfied smirk on his face she wanted to wipe off.
“They can’t hear me; they are human. And I don’t care if Vanessa or Gertrude can. Maybe they will tell the horny bunch to keep their eyes off what’s mine.”
“Sorry, can’t do that,” Vanessa chirped from the back of the bus.
Dalhu looked way too smug, Vanessa wasn’t helping, and Amanda’s finger itched to flip the therapist off. Except, she had an image to uphold. She was there to provide help and guidance to these women, which necessitated keeping an image of professionalism and refinement.
About an hour later, the bus came to a stop at the employee lodging area of the hotel grounds. Everyone filed out, and Dalhu helped the bus driver take the luggage out and put it on the sidewalk. Twenty-two identical rolling suitcases, two different ones that belonged to Vanessa and Gertrude, a crate with Dalhu’s work in progress, and Amanda’s three designer trunks. It might’ve seemed excessive, but she’d packed Dalhu’s things together with hers, and they were taking the space of at least half of one of the trunks.
While the girls were scrambling to figure out which suitcase belonged to whom, she stepped aside and pulled Dalhu out of the way. “I’m going to stay and get them settled. Do you want to come with me, or do you want to go to the hotel and come back for me when I’m done?”
“I’ll go to the hotel.”
Her man was so relieved to get away that he hefted the crate under his arm and pushed all three rolling suitcases ahead of him with the intention of getting there on foot—over a mile of uphill trek through the hotel’s enormous parking lot.
