WastelandRogue

by Brenda Williamson

  He flipped up the flap of his bloodstained shirt and showed her his abdomen. On the surface, a round scarring of flesh still hadn’t disappeared.

  “Does it hurt?” She held her hand out to him.

  “It’s tolerable.” He took her hand and sat down in front of her. “I’ve felt worse.”

  “I could give you some of my blood.” She wanted to help in whatever way possible.

  “I don’t have fangs, remember? I don’t drink blood.”

  “You don’t have the need, the desire or the teeth for cutting and holding flesh but you’re lamian. If your body can regenerate, then it’s possible that drinking blood can help you.” She lifted her arm toward her mouth.

  “No.” Sevrin stopped her. “I told you before I’m not drinking any blood.”

  She turned her head away. “You really do favor your human side. That’s why lamians keep bloodletting private, so as not to disgust humans.”

  Sevrin pushed her legs to one side and pulled her forward alongside him. He cupped her face and caressed her cheek. “Nothing about you disgusts me, Rye.” He leaned toward her, placing his forehead against hers. “Nothing at all.”

  His light kiss on her lips was too brief.

  “Then why not drink? It might help.” She laid her hand on his shoulder and slid her finger against the side of his neck.

  “I don’t want your blood because it means hurting you.” He sat back. “I’ve seen you in enough pain.”

  “But, Sevrin—”

  He leaned again and kissed her longer. The soul-reaching kiss heated her insides. She slid her arm around his neck, fanned her fingers out over the back of his head and burrowed them into his soft brown hair. She wanted to think of nothing else other than the catches in his breath as his mouth broke away and reattached to hers.

  Chapter Eight

  Sevrin lowered Rye to the ground. The sting in his side wasn’t enough to stop his pursuit of pleasure and he searched her eyes for some of that darkness that drew his thoughts from everything.

  “We shouldn’t. You’ve not fully healed.” She pressed her hands against his chest.

  Her resistance was one thing, her tone another. It suggested she wasn’t only concerned for his health.

  “I know my limitations and my strengths,” he said, repeating the very thing she had told him when she had a healthy appetite for sex.

  The temporary restraint of her hold slipped away. “Do you?” She tipped her head back, inviting his kiss along her neck.

  “I’d like to think so.”

  “Maybe you don’t always know what’s good for you.” She kissed his jaw.

  He held her nibbling lips on a path to the opposite side of his face and then over his mouth.

  “This will only sting for a second,” she said, pinching his bottom lip between her teeth, nipping the skin and drawing blood.

  “Ouch.” He jerked back and licked his tongue over the cut.

  “Even your own blood can help.” She pulled him down.

  He balked at letting her teeth near him again.

  “Trust me on this.” She gripped his sides and pulled herself up, pressing her mouth against his.

  The kiss heated as she swished her tongue over the scratch. Small traces of the sweet metallic flavor coated his taste buds.

  She pushed the blood to the back of his throat and he swallowed. The scent had him wanting to taste every morsel of her body. A strange vigor filled him. He pulled at her clothes, undressing her. She helped him remove his own.

  The pain from his wound lessened as they rolled on the ground, his obsession to have her continually growing. He crawled between her spread legs, raking his hands over her smooth thighs. She drew her knees up, letting him pet the tender flesh leading to the crux. He thought of what his brother once told him about how their brains were hardwired with chemical receptors and that if all the senses worked simultaneously, a man could experience the ultimate orgasm.

  He hooked his arms beneath Rye’s supple legs and elevated her bottom from the ground. He leaned closer and flicked his tongue over her clit. She let out a breathy gasp and squirmed. Then he pushed his nose against her cunt and nuzzled the wet petals of skin. Muted by pond water, her scent still intoxicated him. He glanced up at her face and stared at the sparkle in her blue eyes. He never wanted anyone else but him to know the cool softness of her skin or the sweet taste of her cunt. What happened to her in the past would remain there just so he could believe he was the only one to ever know the beauty of her soul.

  Rye dug her fingers in his hair and raked her nails back and forth over his scalp. Her actions expressed her impatience and her insistence that he hurry.

  He withdrew slightly, letting the surrounding air waft a cooling breeze over her heated core. Then he used his tongue to massage, to stimulate, to excite her. She twisted his hair more, pulling him closer. In response, he showered her with attention.

  Taking control of her body with his hands under her bottom, he masterfully manipulated her position, raising her to his lips. He tugged and nibbled and licked at her flesh. The sound of the silvery stream cascading over rocks and splashing into the pond formed a wondrous backdrop to her purrs of delight. Then he settled his mouth against her cunt and shoved his tongue into the twitching center. A deep moan of approval streamed out of her. It grew louder with his tongue thrusts.

  “Sevrin,” she moaned, tugging at him.

  He licked faster. She shuddered from head to toe, panting hard. Then he released his hold on her ass and moved up over her. Caressing her face, brushing her trembling lips, he let the stimulation recede. He stroked her nose, her brow and her temple.

  If he had known there was this one amazing female in the world waiting for him, he would have hunted for her years ago.

  Rye lifted her head and their lips met. Her mouth moved against his. She rubbed his sides and his back. He rolled from her and pulled her onto him as they kissed. She maneuvered herself around, straddling him and sitting up. She stared down at him. Her eyes had a hint of the crimson darkness, displaying her dangerous and yet vulnerable side. That beckoning gaze pulled his mind to just her. He gripped her by the waist as she shifted forward, lifting and lowering onto his erect cock.

  “How do you feel?” She rubbed her palms back and forth over his chest.

  “Like I could fuck you all night.” He stroked her sides as she rose and plunged.

  “I mean your wound.” Her fingers danced over the area on his side.

  The fluttering touch tickled instead of hurt. “No pain. No ache. No soreness. All better.” He raised his head and caught the tip of her breast with his lips.

  “Good, because this is going to be strenuous.” She rolled her hips forward, rocking back and forth, grinding her wet cunt against his groin.

  He sucked on the hard puckered nipple in his mouth, tonguing the piercing. Jostling Rye up, he let her freely ride down on him. He held her captive by his teeth clamped on the tip of her breast. She cried out with a blended sound of pain and pleasure. He stung her with more nips to the tender areas of her breast. Her gyrations progressed faster. She worked her hips back and forth with feral vigor, rising and lowering, clenching and releasing his cock within her tight channel. His body knotted with tension, slowing his advancement toward an orgasm. Sweat beaded his skin. He bucked frantically in need of release.

  Rye arched back, her hands on his thighs. He reached up and grasped her breasts, squeezing, kneading the soft flesh. Punctuated by low moans, her panting grew heavy and harsh. She threw herself forward as spasms inside her cunt tightened on his cock.

  He held her head and kissed her hard, sealing off her ecstatic cry. The pulsating waves of his pleasure flooded his release into her. The excess liquid warmth trickled down his shaft. He’d had his brilliant orgasm and then it was over all too quickly.

  Unable to accept parting from her, he resumed kissing her moist lips and cheeks. Her tongue plunged between his lips, exploring greedily, as if it were the first
time they had kissed. Full of vivacity, she wiggled against him as if it were possible to get closer.

  “I need a breath,” he gasped, pulling back her head.

  “How long?” Her twinkling eyes revealed she wasn’t asking about his breathing.

  She slid her hands under his head, encouraging him to lift it. He gave slack to his hold on her hair and she leaned down and pecked at his lips.

  “Not long.” He smiled and slid his arms lower on her back to get a decent hold.

  Quickly rolling and putting her under him obviously wasn’t something she expected. Her eyes widened and the sweetest laugh burbled out of her. Everything about Rye enticed his exhausted body to recover faster.

  “Not long at all,” he said again, feeling the surge of excitement working on his limp cock.

  “Good,” she purred in that sultry tone that catapulted blood into his veins.

  He stroked her face, pushing back stray wisps of blonde at her temples. She lifted her legs and caressed the backs of his calves with her feet, each pass rising higher—to his thighs, to his ass. Her limberness grabbed his attention.

  Sevrin flexed his hips forward. The warm wetness of Rye’s cunt enveloped his cock and contracted around his shaft as if to make him a prisoner. The incredible feeling caused him to pause and enjoy the tightness. When the constrictive passage twitched, he partly withdrew and then slid back in. He quickened his pace, stroking in rhythm to her rapid clenching.

  Her fingers raked over his body as if she had trouble getting a grip. They ended on his ass, grasping his buttocks. She used the hold to pull him down or maybe it was to pull herself up. Whichever, their bodies slammed together, quicker and harder, persistently aiming for the promised rapture.

  He heard gasps and moans but he didn’t focus on whose they were as he thrust vigorously, his body growing anxious, impatient. Suddenly, his aching scrotum pulsed. Almost numb from the repeated thrusts in and out of Rye’s cunt, his aroused flesh heated. The fierce sensation sluiced through him, causing every muscle to tense, making his limbs shake.

  With Rye’s legs wrapped over him, her heels spurring him in the ass, he pounded into her. Finally, his second orgasm came to a head. He jerked uncontrollably as his semen spewed. Her grunts blended with his and became the sensual song for their erotic movements, intense and all consuming.

  Each time his body jolted, expelling another shot of his cum, Rye bucked beneath him. She stared into his eyes. The radiance drew him closer. He kissed her panting mouth, lightly grazing her lips. Her hands glided from his ass up his back so her arms folded around him. He lowered and kissed her again. Her embrace made it easy for him to roll to his back and bring her over on him again. The seamless maneuver kept his semi-hard cock embedded in her.

  Rye leaned over, continually kissing him. Her lips caressed his face. Could he go a third round so soon after the first two? The answer to his stamina was his flaccid cock dropping out of the snug sheath of Rye’s body.

  She sat up. Her ass cheeks pressed his thighs. His cock felt the stir of cool air and tried to rise. But he knew if the wet cunt it lay against could not stimulate it, nothing would for the moment.

  When tiny lights blinked around them, Rye pushed from him to sit, her tone full of youthful innocence. “Sparkle bugs.”

  What was she like as a child? So much of what he knew of her, her strength and willpower, suggested she had grown up under tough living conditions. Then he’d catch glimpses of a very soft side to her personality as if spoiled with love.

  He propped himself up on his arm and caressed her back. “Long ago, they were called lightning bugs or fireflies. They survived the environmental changes because the females lay their eggs beneath the protective soil.”

  “Why do they light up?” She twisted around, her eyes reflecting the sparkling dots of light from the insects.

  Her bright smile aroused him and not sexually. She tugged at sentimental feelings deep within his heart, the kind that made his chest burn with the best emotions.

  “It’s a bioluminescence they use to attract a mate.” He touched her lips. “Similar to the way a female uses her smile on a man.”

  “I don’t think just a smile works,” she said skeptically.

  He slid his hand behind her head and pulled her toward him. “I’d have to disagree. There’s one man who your smile attracts.”

  “Oh? And why is that?” She swirled her hand over his chest.

  “Happiness is rare, Rye. I look for it every day and I find a little here and there.” He traced her mouth with one finger. “That rarity today is here with you.”

  A moment of pure joy swept around him when Rye folded her arms over his shoulders and behind his head. Her kiss coiled through him, warming every path the wonderful sensation traveled. Time had no movement. It stood still as he reveled in the glory of her generous spirit.

  He had never respected the regenerative powers of his body more than now. The recuperation from being stabbed or shot or the accidents with broken bones had his appreciation as much as rebounding quickly from an orgasm.

  Their kiss intensified the moment.

  Then he jerked when she bit his lip too hard.

  “Damn, Rye.”

  She drew back and stared hungrily at him. He pulled her forward and turned her over his knee. She’d been asking for a spanking since she’d stolen his steam-trekker.

  “This is for biting me,” he said, smacking the cheeks of her ass.

  “Ouch.” She flinched.

  “This is for bringing Levor to my lair and getting me shot.” He slapped her bottom again, a smidge harder.

  She let out a gasp. “If you hadn’t given up your gun, that wouldn’t have happened!”

  “And this is for stealing my steam-trekker first and letting Levor steal it the second time.” He lessened his third strike. Then he put his other hand on her warmed skin and rubbed over reddened skin until the regenerative process of her body returned it to its natural, creamy shade.

  “Well, is that it? You don’t want to punish me for crushing your storage boxes or wasting your time saving me from death in that ditch?”

  He rolled her over, putting her on her back on the ground. She gazed up at him with a blend of fury and lust. He moved in to kiss her again and found himself hesitant. She lifted her head and settled his indecision. Her passionate kiss drew him to the wildness of her nature, the unrestraint to her character. Drawn to it more than to his instinct of caution, he opened himself up to her bite again.

  “Dammit, Rye.” He pushed up and broke free of her embrace when she bit him a second time.

  “Spank me, will you.” She lifted a brow and challenged him to do it again.

  Wiping his hand over his mouth, he felt the slick wetness of blood.

  “There was no need for that the first time. My wound is healed.”

  Rye sat and drew her knees up to her chest, not a flicker of regret in her eyes. “I thought you’d appreciate the intensity it brings during sex now that you’ve experienced it,” she said calmly.

  “What I’d be thankful for more is not to be in pain for no reason.” He picked up his clothes, angry and yet confused by his heightened desires. The hellfire was in his blood. He couldn’t stop thinking of all the ways he wanted her, the sexual positions he wanted to explore.

  “I just gave you a reason,” she said cleverly.

  He put a finger to his lip and found all the cuts completely gone. Each had healed so soon after she bit him. Was it his blood, his saliva or was it hers?

  “I can bite you again, if you want to really know?” she offered too willingly.

  He looked up as he finished fastening his shirt. “Know what?”

  “The punctures I made in your lip. You’re wondering if it was my saliva or yours, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, but no more biting me.” He shook a finger at her to emphasize his point. “I get into enough painful scrapes on my own. I don’t need you tearing me up to see just how I heal.”

&n
bsp; “Why won’t you just admit it, the sex was amazing.” She smirked.

  “I thought that without the biting and the blood.” He sat down next to her on the bedroll she had laid out.

  “I bet you’ve never felt as powerful with a human female.” She nudged his shoulder.

  “What makes you so sure I’ve been with a full-blooded human female before?” he teased.

  Her brow rose. She hesitated and then said, “Because you have human habits. That makes me think you interact more with humans. So does a human woman compare? Does one make you feel as if you could rule the world with the energy generated between the two of you?”

  “Honestly, I can’t recall how I felt.” He lay back, propping his head up on the knapsack. “And even if I did, I’m not about to discuss my past sex life. There is a limit to what a man will talk about.”

  “You really take gallantry to heart, don’t you, that is, when you’re not spanking a girl?” She pulled his arm out to the side and lay down, snuggling against his side. “Good thing I’m not as reserved with my manners or I’d still be waiting for you to fuck me like there’s no tomorrow.”

  “Good thing,” he agreed, liking that she didn’t let a little spanking stop her from cuddling.

  Cradling her in his arms, he closed his eyes to rest. Unfortunately, sleep didn’t come as easily as it did the night before when he thought she wasn’t a threat. Not that he believed she’d do any harm to him in the normal sense. It was just this attachment thing, his emotions continually on overdrive around her. If she went off on her own again, where would that mentally leave him?

  “I’m not going to run off,” she suddenly whispered.

  While he had heard rumors lamians could read minds, he had always thought it was a myth. “Rye, you can’t—?” He stopped himself, thinking how ridiculous it might sound to ask.

  “Hmmm?”

  “Nothing?”

  “What is it?” She lifted her head.

  “It’s not important.” He folded an arm behind his head.

  “Then spill. What do you want to know?” She made lazy circles on his chest with the swirl of one finger.