In the Company of Vampires do-9

by Katie MacAlister

  His eyes widened slightly. “Who are you, and what have you done with my Beloved?”

  I laughed. “I abused you terribly, didn’t I?”

  “I wouldn’t go so far as to say abused, but you didn’t seem to understand how I felt.”

  “No, I don’t suppose I did,” I said thoughtfully, remembering how overpowering Ben’s protective instincts used to feel.

  He grimaced and took my hand, stroking his fingers over mine. “That was my fault. You seemed so adult, I lost sight of the fact that emotionally you weren’t ready for what I wanted from you.”

  “Ben . . .” I bit my lip, wanting badly to ask him something, but not sure how to phrase it without sounding like a total idiot.

  “You can ask me anything you want.” He leaned forward to kiss me, just a little kiss, but one that held such heat, I felt a blush of arousal start at my chest and wash upward.

  “What have you been doing for the past five years?” The words blurted out of my mouth just as if I was still a gauche seventeen-year-old, leaving me flinching at both the bluntness and the fact that Ben knew exactly what it was I was asking.

  He was silent for as long as it took me to count to twenty. “I have existed.”

  I put my hand on his chest, feeling again the blackness that dwelled within, a dense, unfathomable midnight that would have sent me screaming into madness had I borne it. But despite that, I knew there were tiny little pinpricks of light. I had felt one of them, the hope that I would return to him, that light now shining steadily in a corner of his soul. I smiled at it, smiled at him, and nipped his lower lip as I fed the hope until it shimmered like a star against the velvety black sky.

  With a groan that started deep in his chest, his hands swept down my back, pulling my hips closer to him. “Fran, I will not be able to think if you do that again.”

  “Thinking is overrated. I’ve done enough of that for the last five years. Let’s move past it, shall we?” I sucked in my breath when he pressed kisses to that sensitive spot behind my ear. With a moan, I slid my hands up his back, my fingers tracing out the swell of his muscles, my entire body tingling with anticipation.

  “When I saw you again, it was as if the last five years had never been. I want you, Francesca. I want you in my life. I want you in my bed. I want to wake up knowing that no other man will touch you.”

  “That is seriously possessive. I don’t know why it doesn’t irritate me. Maybe it’s because I know what you mean. It’s like time just kind of stopped, although things between us have changed. It’s as if now it’s something . . . bigger.”

  He chuckled and pulled my hips against his. I assure you it has not changed.

  Thank you for the obligatory smutty comment, you man, you. You know what I mean—our relationship feels bigger. More epic. Like . . . oh, I don’t know, somehow grandiose and frightening at the same time. What if it’s just our chemistry after all, Ben? What if everything we feel is out of our control?

  “That is how life is. I think you are worrying unduly,” he murmured in between kisses pressed to my neck. “We have both changed during the last few years. Can you not accept that? I have.”

  “I don’t want you to simply accept me,” I protested, pushing back from his chest. “I want us both to be more than just comfortable.”

  His mouth was hot on my flesh as he bit gently on my earlobe before moving over to my breastbone, trailing what felt like fire. “I am extremely uncomfortable at this moment.”

  I clutched his shoulders, my breath already ragged and uneven, those parts of me that had anticipated his touch for so long becoming very aware of him. My breasts almost hurt they were suddenly so sensitive, and when he whisked off my shirt, burying his face in my cleavage, I thought I might pass out with the sheer pleasure of it all.

  A loud clang outside the trailer had us both recalling where we were. Without speaking, I peeked out of the blinds, relieved to see that it was just Karl, Kurt’s brother, moving past with a prop. “False alarm. Are you tired? How much sleep did you get in Naomi’s bed?”

  His gaze was steady on me. “You’re never going to forget that, are you?”

  “Not for a very . . . long . . . time,” I answered pleasantly.

  He looked like he was going to sigh again, but instead he smiled ruefully, his smile making everything inside me wobble like gelatin. “Naomi tiraded about you most of the day, so I did not get much sleep.”

  “Poor little sleepy vampire.” I moved over to the door, locking it before turning to look at him. He watched me with hope in his eyes. I smiled and held out my arms. I didn’t even see him move. One second he was standing a good twelve feet away, the next I was plastered against his chest, feeling every inch of him. I couldn’t help myself. I melted into a giant puddle of Fran, my legs going just as wobbly as the rest of me.

  Ben slid an arm behind my knees and stood holding me, indecision gripping him as he turned to face the door at the end of the trailer.

  “Would you mind your mother’s bed?”

  “Under any other circumstances, yes. But I think she’d understand. And if she doesn’t . . . well, we’ll just deal with that.”

  Before I could blink, I was on my back on the bed, Ben’s body pushing me into the mattress. His mouth and hands seemed to be everywhere at the same time, touching me, teasing me, stroking and tormenting my suddenly bared flesh in a way that was so overwhelming, I could do nothing more than writhe against him, trying to touch, tease, and torment him as well.

  He reared back when I got both hands on his rear end. “How did you do that?” I managed to ask, noting with interest that his eyes were mahogany, shimmering with passion that left the little gold bits sparking as if they were made of flames.

  He flexed his cheeks. “It’s always been that way.”

  “No, not how did your butt get to be this way—although, I have to say, Ben, if I had known all those years ago that you had a butt this fabulous—well, that’s beside the point. What was I asking?”

  He leaned forward, and a shiver went down my body at the sensation of his chest hair on my breasts. His mouth took possession of mine long enough to leave me almost completely witless. “I don’t know. You asked how I did something.”

  “How come you can think and I can’t?” I demanded, sliding my hands up his spine, dragging my nails along his backbone. He groaned, his eyes closed for a few seconds. “I object to you being able to do that.”

  His head dipped and he sucked on the spot behind my ear that he knew full well turned me into mush. “Do what?”

  “That thing. With your brain.”

  “Think?”

  “Yes, that! I want to think, too, Ben. I want to be able to analyze what it is you’re doing to me, and what I’m feeling, and what you’re feeling, and what’s going to happen next, and whether or not you’re going to do the behind-the-ear thing on the other side of my head, because that ear is feeling a little left out.”

  He laughed in my head as he duly attended to the other shivery spot, making me quiver with arousal. You are the most delightful woman I have ever met, Francesca. Am I overwhelming you?

  Yes, but that’s okay. What are you going to do next?

  I’m sorry, he said, moving off me. I’m trying very hard not to rush this for you. I know this is your first time, and I don’t want you frightened by anything we do.

  I blinked at him, pulling at his arms until his top part was over me again. “Who says I’m frightened? And, Ben, I’m not a virgin.”

  He froze for a moment, his face impassive. “You have not been with another man. I would know if you had.”

  “No, of course I haven’t. I explained that. But a girl can have toys, you know.”

  His frozen expression relaxed, a wicked glint coming into his beautiful, expressive eyes. “What sort of toys gave you pleasure? Were they ones that touched you here?”

  Oooh, Mr. Naughty! I squealed as his head dipped and his teeth scraped gently across the nipple nearer him. I swear
my eyes crossed when he followed that with a long, wet lick of his tongue. No, no boob toys.

  He moved slightly, so he could take care of my other breast, the sensation of his hair and slightly stubble-roughened cheek as they brushed against sensitized flesh sending little zings of electricity down my skin, where it pooled low and hot.

  His hand followed the path of the electricity, sliding down my stomach until his fingers curled into my warmth. Did your toys touch you here?

  Maybe. Oh, sweet stars and moon, do that again!

  He did, kissing a wet trail down my breastbone and stomach as his fingers, his clever, clever fingers, danced among intimate parts of me, making my stomach tighten, my hips twitch, and various bits that had previously possessed purely mundane functions suddenly start clamoring for more Ben, much more Ben.

  When his fingers sank into me, I saw not just stars but entire constellations, and quite possibly a galaxy or two. When he nudged my legs apart and settled himself there, his mouth returning to mine, I knew that all the years of waiting for him, all those lonely nights dreaming of him, all that time I had spent figuring out who I was so I could finally return to his arms where I belonged, all that had led me to this grand moment, this pinnacle of ecstasy, this joining of bodies and souls that I knew would be the most profound experience of my life.

  Ben eased into my body, his mouth hot on my shoulder. Need roared within him, and was echoed in me.

  I shifted my hips to better accommodate him, stroking his back as he gave one thrust, then suddenly moaned, No! Bloody hell . . .

  What? What? What’s wrong?

  Aw, Fran, I’m sorry, he murmured, his face now buried in my neck as his hips gave tiny little convulsive twitches.

  Sorry about what? Sorry that we’re finally doing this? Sorry that I’m not a virgin? Sorry that I’m not good at it? Goddess! That’s it, isn’t it? I’ve disappointed you! I’ve failed at sex!

  His body shook against mine, and I wanted to die right then and there. All those years waiting for this moment, and I was so awful at sex that Ben was shaking in repugnance?

  He lifted his head, and I could see tears in his eyes, but the rolling laughter that poured out of him told me they weren’t tears of horror. He kissed me loudly, smiling down at me. “As if I found anything about you repugnant. I’m sorry because I anticipated this moment a bit too much.”

  He slid out of me with a wet, squishy noise that startled me. We both peered down at the offending organ. “You mean you—”

  “Yes. I’m sorry. I wanted your first time to be special. But the things you were feeling were too much for me, and . . .” He started laughing again.

  I looked at his penis for a moment, then giggled. “I suppose I should take it as a compliment, but I have to admit, I’m feeling a bit . . . well, let down. I mean, all those years dreaming about this moment, Ben. All those hot, steamy daydreams about what it would be like. All that anticipation. Never once in my fantasies were you like this.”

  “Like what? Anticipatory?”

  I touched his penis with the tip of one finger. “Floppy.”

  He rolled off me, laughing even harder, pulling me onto his chest. “Every second of every minute of every day since you left, I’ve thought about making love to you, and when I finally get the chance, this is what happens.” He had to stop talking, he was laughing so hard. “I swear I will make it up to you, Fran. Just give me a minute to catch my breath, and we’ll do this again, properly. I promise my floppiness is only a temporary situation.”

  “Well, I hope so, because frankly, at this point my toys have you beat.”

  He roared with laughter at that, and my heart did amazing little flip-flops. I’d seen Ben laugh before, but never had I seen him this way, so caught up in mirth that tears sneaked out of the corners of his eyes. I kissed the tears, then kissed his jaw, then kissed the spot behind his ear, breathing deeply of the scent of him. “You smell like a well-pleasured man,” I told him, biting his ear.

  His laughter slowed down to a chuckle, his hands sliding up my hips to my breasts. “You smell like my woman.”

  “Arrogant as ever, I see. Hey, I thought you were supposed to be catching your breath so you can do all the things to me that I’ve planned for you to do. And the ones you thought of that I had no idea we could do. Like that one. Seriously? With honey? I thought you didn’t eat?”

  The grin he gave me was pure devilishness. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

  I blushed at the thoughts that went behind his words. “No. Yes. Oh, I don’t care, but I would like you to do that bit with the honey.”

  “Later,” he promised, pulling me over his body so my boobs were at his mouth. Right now I have a gauntlet to pick up. You’ve challenged me, Francesca, and I intend on proving to you that I far exceed your toys.

  I squirmed with delight as he rubbed his face against my breasts, capturing an aching nipple in his mouth, where he laved his tongue over it. All right, but I have my own challenge to take care of.

  What challenge is that?

  I have to prove to you that I’m not horrible at sex.

  He filled my head with laughter. What happened was not because you are inexperienced, love. It’s because I was not in control of myself as I should have been.

  “Good. I like you out of control,” I said, sliding backward a little bit. “In fact, I think I should . . . um . . .” I looked down his body at his penis, taking a moment to admire the sights along the way. “I like your stomach.”

  “Thank you. I like yours as well.” He tried to pull me up again, but I evaded his grasp, moving down to his hips, so I could press a kiss on his stomach. There was a thin trail of hair that led down from his chest to his belly button. I teased it with my fingers as I eyed his penis. It looked a bit different from I had expected. “Is something the matter? Why are you frowning at my cock?”

  “It’s . . . uh . . . is it supposed to look like that? The ones I’ve seen look different.”

  He sat up. “How many have you seen, Francesca?”

  I grinned to myself at the outraged tone in his voice. For some reason, it warmed me to the tips of my toes when he used my full name. Not even my mother did that. “In person or on videos?”

  “Both.”

  None and I’m not telling. You can just assume that I’ve seen porn, okay? And stop being outraged, because I’m sure you’ve seen it as well. Aha! See? I knew you have.

  There are times when I regret the ability for a Beloved to share Dark Ones’ thoughts, he muttered darkly.

  Ha. You love it and you know it. Now lie down. You had your turn. I want to look at you. And . . . er . . . touch you.

  He hrmphed again in my mind, but lay back down. “I’m not circumcised. That is the difference.”

  “Ooh, okay.” I looked down at his penis again, trying to assess it.

  “Now what are you doing?”

  “Assessing. I think I want to . . . um . . .” I gestured toward the object in question.

  A little smile curled his lips. “Do you at all see the irony in the fact that you are unable to say common phrases despite conducting the act itself?”

  “It’s not a matter of irony at all,” I told him, sliding down and pushing his legs open. I settled between his knees, eyeing his penis. “It’s not just curse words that have power, you know, and I try to avoid the ones that might get me into trouble. I’m sorry if that sounds prissy or wimpy, but it’s how I am.”

  It’s not prissy or wimpy at all. I find it charming that language means so much to you. Does it offend you if I use words like “cock”?

  I thought about it for a moment, reaching out to gently touch his thickening penis. No. I did a paper once for an English class on the etymology of various profanities, and I know that word and others have a long history to them. Since you do, too, it doesn’t bother me how you speak. Well, except the accent. I would hate it if you ever lost your accent.

  One eyebrow rose. I have an accent? I thought my
English was perfect.

  It is perfect, but you have a little bit of an accent. It’s very sexy. Kind of a cross between English and Czech, I guess, since you’re from there. It makes me feel . . . warm.

  He was about to answer me, but I tipped my head at that moment, and took him into my mouth.

  “Well, this is different,” I said a moment later as I tried to analyze the taste and feel of him on my tongue.

  Flurg.

  “What?”

  Flurg. I said flurg. Do that again.

  I swirled my tongue along the very tip of him.

  His hips bucked. “Flurg!”

  “I take it by the fact that Mr. Floppy is gaining in stature that you’re going to be willing to give this another try.”

  “Francesca,” Ben said sternly, but his lips twitched as I blinked innocently at him. “I am selfishly grateful that you have not had experience with other men to know this, but there is one term you never, ever use to your lover, and ‘Mr. Floppy’ is that term.”

  I looked at his penis. He was not unduly large, not walk funny for a week large, but judging by my rough estimation, he had Finnvid beat. “I’m sorry,” I told his penis. “I will never again refer to you as Mr. Floppy, Mr. Overly Anticipatory, or even Mr. Leave Fran Wondering What All the Fuss Is About—”

  “That impertinence, Beloved, is not something I am going to stand for.” Ben was suddenly looming over me, the sheets of the bed cool beneath my back as he nipped my hip.

  “I knew you were bossy, but I never knew you were this bossy. Oh merciful goddess! Are you going to . . . You are! Oral sex! I’ve been dying to try—” My eyes opened wide, almost crossing at the sensation of his hot breath on intimate parts of me that had not previously entertained anyone, my hands clutching at the sheets as my hips rose.