If only they had come here alone.
That, obviously, wasn’t going to happen, no matter how Brent and Kristen snapped at each other as they tried to position themselves in their sled, so he was just going to have to make the best of the situation he could.
Rachel was still greeting the dogs when he approached her, and then some of the animals’ attention shifted to him. Slobbery, happy attention. He petted the two closest to him, and they bounced around happily at him. Such strong fur balls to drag around sleds full of humans a few times a day. At least they seemed to enjoy their work.
“I’m surprised the dogs aren’t bothered by you,” Rachel said, voice set low to carry to only his ears.
“Because I’m a monster to be feared?” He chuckled at her serious expression to his joke. “My DNA is a little different. My origins are definitely a little unnatural. But when it comes down to it, that makes me only slightly different from you—at least from a dog’s perspective.”
“They don’t see you as a hunter—a threat?”
He shrugged. “All humans are hunters, if more tame ones than my kind. So I suspect they don’t see me much differently than they see you.”
“So we’re like these dogs, and you’re like the wolf out there in the mountains, seeking its food through the hunt.” She smiled down at one of the dogs and scratched its ears.
“I’m housebroken, sweetheart, in case you hadn’t noticed. I prefer to have my food brought to me, same as you.”
“Didn’t seem like it that first night by the Dumpsters, when you were feeding off that girl.” There was a dark note in her tone, even though she was obviously trying to keep her tone light.
A flash of regret. Would their relationship—or whatever they had here—be forever sullied by their meeting? “I’m a house wolf, I guess. I don’t hunt all the time, but I still can, when it’s necessary.”
“Was it?”
“Was what?”
“Was it necessary to bite that girl?”
He thought about starting in on a long, drawn-out explanation. The type of information she probably deserved to know, needed to know. But this wasn’t the time or the place, so he kept his reply simple. “Yes. And she wasn’t hurt by it—not really. She’ll never remember.”
The look she gave him said she wasn’t totally convinced, but she didn’t press the issue. And the mushers were soon getting their group settled into the hickory wood and elk hide sleds. Rachel shook her finger at Charles and admonished him teasingly to keep his hands to himself before settling in front of him on the sled. Her warm body fit perfectly into his, and he threw the heavy wool blankets over them both.
The ride was exhilarating and fun, over well-used trails with just enough powder to send a bit of snow flying up around them when they cut hard. Rachel yelled around the turns and he laughed. The views stunned them all to silence, and even Brent seemed unable to find a negative thing to say when it was over.
Through it all her scent teased him, and her laughter filled him with a strange satisfaction. And when the ride was over he kissed her, and she kissed him back. Neither of them caring who saw.
…
While sitting next to her on that bed as they went through their game plan—she’d drag Kristen to the bar where he was taking Brent the second she got his text—Charles could see some lingering pain in Rachel’s eyes. A hesitancy with him that hadn’t been there until he’d left her this morning, humiliated and alone. The magic of the sled ride seemed to have faded as soon as they’d come in from the cold.
Part of him wanted to tell her to buck up. That she should have known he was just playing along. But trusting people—men especially—was difficult for her.
He’d hurt her badly. And it didn’t matter that he hadn’t intended to cause her pain. It didn’t even matter that what he’d done had been partially to help her. All that mattered now was healing this rift between them. Because he couldn’t seem to breathe right, knowing it was there.
Hell. He was already half in love with her. When the fuck had that happened?
Honesty is the best way to reach her. “If Alice’s life weren’t in danger, I would have taken you up on your offer this morning. I would have dragged you off to some lovely, warm place, because I know you don’t like the cold.”
She started. “I—”
“I care about you. More than I should, given the fact that I’m hunting an asshole threatening—well, she’s basically my sister now. You know that, right?” he said.
“I know.” Her gaze broke away from his. “I care about you, too,” she whispered.
Did she know that he cared for her, really? Whatever fucked-up situation had made her sister cling to men had made Rachel deeply distrustful. And he’d only confirmed her fears by confiding that he’d purposely used his powers to manipulate her emotions the night they met.
He needed to show her how he felt.
With a speed only a vampire could manage, he knelt on the floor in front of her. Luckily, she was rather petite, and he wasn’t, so her mouth was in easy reach of his own.
Hands gripping her knees, he pulled her closer and kissed her softly. Perfect lips met his, but she hesitated, not pulling back, but not offering him much in return, either. Then, as if she’d decided, her hands came up to cradle his face, and she slipped her tongue between his lips.
The kiss was sensuous and deep, slow and purposeful. They tasted each other as if they’d never tasted each other before. He let her guide the kiss, with her hands holding his face tenderly between them, and her mouth positioned slightly above his own.
It was the kind of kiss that a man could get used to. She offered passion that made a man want to experience it again and again. A dangerous thought, but not one he could dismiss. Not now, with her scent filling him since they’d been on that damn sled, with his teeth and cock aching to take her, to make her his.
Her tongue slid against his teeth, teasing his fangs, and he dug his fingers into her thighs to keep himself from pushing her down and finding out exactly what her blood tasted like.
No. He wouldn’t.
Finally, they broke apart slightly, foreheads pressed together and their breaths short and ragged. Her hand ran through his hair, and she tugged his face away from hers gently.
“You are far too good at this, bloodsucker.” Her words were harsh, but her tone teased him.
He stood, taking her with him, and undressed her quickly. She allowed it, but then she tugged at his clothing, too.
“My turn.” He tucked her hair behind her ear. “I want to taste you.”
Her face reddened and he grinned. Would she always turn red when he said anything even slightly dirty to her? Hell, it made him want to say very, very dirty things.
Despite her embarrassment, her voice was firm when she spoke. “Me first.”
“But—”
“Don’t you see?” She looked up at him. In the low lighting her hazel eyes seemed to glow, and the vulnerability there took his breath away. “I need you to want me as badly as I want you.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but the need in her eyes knocked the words right out of his head. Sure, he wanted to make her vibrate beneath him, make her want him more than she’d ever wanted anything. Hell, he wanted to even the playing field—because no matter what she thought, he wanted her so much that it haunted him.
But this wasn’t about his needs. Tonight was about her, and if this was what she wanted, he wouldn’t deny her.
“I don’t think I could want you more—hell, I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in a century of life,” he said, flinching inside at the honesty of his confession. He pulled his shirt over his head, and then cocked an eyebrow at her playfully. “But you’re welcome to try.”
Her lips curved into a sexy grin, and she led him in a circle so his back was to the bed. Eyes never leaving his, she began to work his belt. His cock jumped at the slightest brush of her knuckles over his still-confined erection. And when she slowly
slid the belt off him, loop by loop, it took every bit of willpower he had not to bend her over the table behind her and penetrate her body in the two seconds flat it would take him to tear off his pants.
She wouldn’t complain—not much. That was apparent in her hungry expression, and in the scent of her arousal filling the air. She wanted him inside her as desperately as he wanted to be there.
But he’d be damned if he’d deny her anything right now. A hundred years of life had given him—barely—enough willpower to allow her this.
Plucking at the button of his pants, she got it loose and then lowered his zipper carefully. So achingly slow. It was apparent she was trying to torture him, and she pushed his pants down over his hips and ass, pulling his underwear with it. His cock bobbed free, already so close to her mouth that he imagined he could already feel her warm breath against the tip.
He bit back a curse word, suddenly wanting to feel her mouth around him more than the blood he needed to survive. But she didn’t pull his pants down past his knees; instead she stood and pressed down on his shoulders. She gave him a quick kiss, but denied him when he attempted to deepen it.
“Sit,” she murmured.
“You don’t want me to take these off?” He gestured toward his pants, most of his mind wondering what the fuck he was doing. The less discussion, the sooner she’d have those sweet lips around him.
A grin touched her lips, and she licked them before she spoke, wetting them and making his dick feel like it was straining of its own accord to get closer to her. “It’ll be harder for you to take over like this.”
“Well, then…” Why not let her have the illusion that he was just a tiny bit trapped? No need to ruin her fun. Their fun. Fuck. His fun. He sat.
She walked to the side of the bed and plucked a pillow from near the headboard, deliberately swaying her hips as she moved. Then she dropped it on the floor in front of his feet. Her gaze locked with his, she lowered herself to her knees in front of him.
The pillow put her at the perfect height, and it was all he could do not to orgasm right then and there, just at the erotic sight she presented.
Yeah, that would impress her.
Her hands went to either side of him, and then her tongue flitted out to taste his excitement. The sensation was almost painfully fleeting, yet so fucking arousing.
Fingers digging into the comforter, he groaned.
The woman tortured him with her mouth, never using her hands, never taking more than the tip of him inside. She licked and nipped and sucked softly down his shaft.
“Are you trying to kill me?” he managed. He was so hard he thought he just might prove physics wrong and burst, and his teeth ached fiercely.
“Not yet.” She grinned, then—finally—using her hand, she pumped him slowly. After a wink, she took him into her mouth.
His hips surged, but she was ready for him and pulled back until he moved away.
“Fuck. You are trying to kill me.” It would be a hell of a way to die.
“Want me to stop?” She arched an eyebrow at him.
“Hell no.”
After that, words were beyond him. Using her mouth, she took him to new heights before stopping, only so she could work him up again. Finally, it was too much.
She seemed to sense it; she was done playing.
With her mouth and hands, she worked him, using what she’d learned about his body to find his limits. Sweet tension built within him, and he gasped, trying to stop the pulsating pressure from pushing him over the edge.
“Stop. Let me. I’m going to—”
But she didn’t stop, and for the life of him, he couldn’t find the will to make her. The pressure crested and he shattered, his world breaking into pieces. He cried out, feeling the comforter tear under his grip. And she didn’t relent until she’d drained every bit of pleasure from him that he could give.
What felt like hours later, but must have been only minutes, he managed to open his eyes and look down at her where she still perched between his legs. She looked so satisfied that he wanted to eat her up.
With a quick tug, he pulled her onto the bed next to him and hugged her close. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know. Are you complaining?”
“Hell no.”
The sound of her muffled laughter vibrated against his chest.
With how she’d relaxed him, he could have fallen asleep right then and there, but already his need rose again. Need for her, yes, but even more pressing, a need to please her. Not for pride’s sake, which had always made him a considerate lover—if not a long-term one—but because he wanted her to feel good. Wanted her to feel as amazing as he felt right now. Wanted to know he could make her feel the kind of bliss she brought out in him.
He adjusted his position slightly so he could reach her mouth and then kissed her softly on the lips. “You make me crazy.”
“I love that I can make you that crazy.”
“You would, siren.”
The slightly embarrassed grin that tugged on the edges of her lips exploded into a bright smile. “Siren? I like that. Of course, if you ever hear me sing, it’ll ruin the illusion.”
He leaned in to whisper in her ear. “That was amazing. But now it’s my turn.”
…
Rachel squealed when he flipped her onto her back, only to then step back and toss the rest of his clothes to the floor. She couldn’t drag her eyes away from him. Away from his hard body and light eyes, and the mischief that gleamed inside them. There was little sign of the man who’d seemed so lighthearted, so charming, yet wholly without a serious bone in his body. This man was fun, but also thoughtful. Relentless. And the thought of what he would do to her now made her shiver.
The power she’d felt making a man as virile and sexy as Charles squirm was heady stuff. And it had transitioned into straight lust.
Sure, she wasn’t a total prude. It wasn’t the first time she’d gone down on a man, but she’d never done so as bravely. Never with the lights on. Never with him watching her as intently as Charles had.
She’d liked it.
He slid down her body, using his mouth and hands cleverly so thinking was almost impossible. His mouth closed over her nipple, and she gasped when he bit down, gently. His other hand moved down to stroke her, and then he groaned.
“You’re so ready for me. Did you like what you did to me?”
“Yes,” she gasped, and immediately flushed.
“I love that you blush so easily.” With a quick motion, he nipped the side of her breast and licked away the almost-pain. Then he made his way down her stomach, still working her softly with his hand.
When he sucked on her hip bone, she gasped. Then he stopped touching her where she needed him most, instead placing his hands on either side of her so he could watch her reverently.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said, and she couldn’t even find it in her to respond.
The position. The lights. His openly intent gaze. It should have all made her feel more exposed than she had when she first took him into her mouth. But with every caress, every sweet murmured compliment, she felt safer. More relaxed. Had she ever felt so wonderfully confident and happy when so exposed?
No.
The soft brush of his fingertips over her mound distracted her. His touch was light. He massaged her thigh gently with one hand, while every so delicately exploring her with the other.
Then he kissed her most sensitive place. Closed mouth and a gentle press. But just the soft touch almost put her over the edge.
“Charles!”
He ignored her plea, and continued his achingly slow assault with his mouth. But it wasn’t hard enough, wet enough to relieve the ache inside of her. She struggled to push herself closer, but he pulled back, not allowing her any relief.
He was definitely trying to kill her.
“Being vengeful isn’t a good quality,” she said.
“But it’s so sweet,” he said. With a quick flick of his
tongue, he tasted her, and she gasped. “Vengeance, too.” Then, hands holding her legs firmly apart, he increased the pressure of his mouth. He licked and nipped at her bud before dipping his tongue inside her.
“Oh, God.” She tried to press against him, the sensation too overwhelming, but he held her in place.
“I can’t—please…” She couldn’t voice what she was asking for, exactly. Relief. Sweet relief from the pressure. From the need.
“What do you want, sweetness?” His voice was a low rumble.
She couldn’t respond, but her hips bucked toward him.
“Do you want this?” He slipped a finger inside her, and then continued his assault with his mouth. Expertly he licked and sucked and teased, while working her with one finger, then two.
The orgasm hit her hard, and she moaned and squirmed. The next thing she knew his body was covering hers, and he was pushing inside of her. She dug her fingernails into his shoulders as pleasure ricocheted through her body.
“Fuck,” he gasped softly, mouth by her ear. “So fucking perfect.” He pulled back from her and licked his lips, still moving in and out of her body in a steady rhythm. “You taste like heaven. I wish I could taste all of you.”
The orgasm left her disconnected, and she couldn’t quite wrap her brain around what he’d said.
“Didn’t you?” she managed, moving her hips to meet his thrust, the sweet need for him growing inside her once again.
“Not quite.” His pace increased, and she gripped his ass with her fingers, reduced to hanging on for the ride. Sweet pressure built between her legs, and she moaned.
Mouth only a hairbreadth from her ear, he murmured, “Everything but your blood.”
The idea was startling and dangerous and too much for her. She cried out and he thrust into her, hard. This time, they shattered together.
Chapter Nine
Shaken by the passion she’d shared with Charles, Rachel jumped into the shower while he got dressed. For some reason, lying there in bed with him, even for a few minutes, felt too intimate. Too…couple-like. And she wasn’t about to let her brain and emotions pick up on that and start to get attached. Not to mention that earlier when he’d mentioned tasting her blood, she hadn’t been turned off. Which she should totally should have been.
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