by Elisa Adams
Drain her, no. But he wouldn’t mind another sample or two. His fangs started to elongate and he had to force himself to calm down. Why did he have to keep forgetting that she was trying to kill him? But she hadn’t yet. That had to say something. “Come here, Becca.”
“Why?”
“Talk to me. I don’t want to hurt you. I have no interest in that. And I know you don’t really want to kill me.”
She threw her head back and laughed. “Bull. You don’t know that. Actually, I do want to kill you, and I’m going to enjoy every second. But I’m going to give you a reprieve.”
His breath left his lungs in a whoosh.
“A temporary one. Don’t get me wrong, I still plan to kill you when I’m finished. But you amuse me. I think I’ll keep you around for a while longer.”
She turned on her heel and stalked out of the room.
* * * * *
Becca stomped down the hall into the kitchen and flopped down in a chair. She folded her arms on the tabletop and dropped her head onto them. Choppy breathing, sweaty palms, and a roiling stomach. What the hell was that all about? She’d done this countless times before, and she’d never been struck with a case of nerves at all, let alone one that had threatened to bring her to her knees.
Her first mistake had been not killing him right away. She’d known what he was almost from the second she saw him. An ordinary human wouldn’t have known what to look for, but she’d been trained to watch for certain signs. A vampire was easy to spot if one knew what to look for. They had a certain arrogance about them, a presence she couldn’t explain but could feel nonetheless. Coupled with the way he hadn’t seemed to need to squint through the darkness to glance around the bar from that corner table, and she’d had him pegged. She should have taken care of him that first night.
Her usual methods had always worked in the past. Drug them, bring them home, screw their brains out, tie them up and kill them. Why change it now? She was slipping if she let one night of intense sex get to her this much. Now that he was awake, talking to her rather than rubbing himself all over her, she had to face the fact that he was a living, breathing being and not some monster straight out of her nightmares. And he was a friend of Ellie’s. Ellie took care of her own, and no doubt she’d skin Becca alive for daring to kill someone she cared about. She’d never be able to take him out now, but she couldn’t trust him enough to set him free either. He might not have planned to kill her before she’d tied him up and threatened his life, but he surely would now.
So what was she supposed to do with him? She only had another day, maybe two, before the drugs wore off. At least that’s what Kel had told her. Then it was a toss-up as to whether he’d be able to break out of the chains or not. Kel had said that even though they weren’t the highest quality models currently available, they’d hold a fairly young vampire for a little while—long enough for her to get the job done. She’d never tested that theory before. She’d never kept any of them around long enough to need to. And how was she supposed to know if he was a young vampire versus an old one? She’d only been at the job for a couple of years, and she had zero paranormal abilities. No inner instinct was going to guide her way on this one. Not even advice from her mentor, since Kel had decided not to answer his phone. Again. She was on her own.
A few years ago, she would have called Ellie to ask her what to do. But that wouldn’t be an option now. She was in deep dog-doo, and she had no idea what to do to pull herself out of it short of running away and leaving him tied to her bed. But given the fact that he knew Ellie, and Ellie always had a way of finding Becca even when she tried her best to disappear, leaving him tied up wasn’t an option anymore. He would eventually get free, one way or another. The last thing she needed was to be killed while she slept in the middle of the night.
It all came down to one thing. She didn’t want him dead. As deep as her loathing for vampires went, something about this one stirred her inside. He was different. Maybe it was because he was the first once since Tony she’d talked to the next day. She didn’t know, couldn’t explain it if she tried, but it was there. And she couldn’t kill him now.
She sat up, took a deep breath, and walked to the sink for another glass of water. There had to be a solution. And she’d find it, too. As soon as she cleared her mind enough to think.
Chapter Three
Wil rolled his shoulders as much as he could, trying to ward off the sleep threatening to claim him. It seemed like hours had passed since Becca had stomped out of the room. At least she hadn’t left the house. Yet. He picked up on her heat, her movement, and even her scent. But still she stayed away. When she’d granted him her so-called reprieve, he hadn’t expected it to last this long. Was it because she still planned to kill him, or because she didn’t want to anymore? He wasn’t taking any chances.
He’d dozed a few times while she’d been away, but didn’t allow himself to drift into a sound sleep. That would give her the perfect opportunity to come in and stake him. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. If she wanted to do it, fine, but he wasn’t going down without a fight. In the past hour or so the foggy sensation had cleared from his head and his muscles no longer felt weak. Now he’d be alert and strong enough to defend himself.
He yawned and shifted his back on the bed. The movement caused the cuffs to clink against the headboard, but this time he thought he felt a little give to them. He tested it again, giving his arm a quick tug, and felt the metal bend a little under the strain. He smiled as everything slipped into place. The strange, surreal sensations, the loss of strength. She hadn’t restrained him using specialty cuffs. She must have drugged him instead. That was a new one. No wonder she was able to get her prey to be so compliant. But she must not have expected it to wear off so quickly, or else she would have either killed him or let him go by now.
She hadn’t been as prepared as she thought. It couldn’t get any more perfect than this. She thought she was in control.
She was so wrong.
He wouldn’t hurt her, though she’d probably expect him to after what she’d done. No, he didn’t want to harm her in any way. But he’d scare her a little. Not too much. She’d been hurt in the past and he wouldn’t be the man to do it again, but it wouldn’t kill her to be left doubting, wondering and questioning everything she knew. And when he was finished, he’d return her to her sister a different woman than the one Ellie had known, but also a different woman than the one she’d become. There had to be some middle ground, a good mix of the two, and all he had to do was find it and bring it out. Then he could go on with his life knowing he’d fulfilled his promise.
But he was going to have a little fun with her first.
The door opened and Becca walked in, the same indifferent expression on her face. His body reacted to just the sight of her, his cock lengthening and stretching. He chastised himself. Why couldn’t he control his reaction to her?
Her gaze turned approving. “Very nice, Wil. Planning on sharing?”
“Hell no.”
His body had other plans.
She stepped further into the room, the same mix of lust and humor he’d seen before on her face. “Come on. Once more, for old time’s sake?”
He didn’t say anything, just stared at her. Knowing he had her right where he wanted her, under his control though she hadn’t a clue, renewed his lust. He held the power now, and he planned on letting her know that. But not yet. When she came to that realization, he wanted to make sure it took her by complete surprise. He could do nothing to hide the growing erection. And now there wasn’t much reason to bother. He could have her again, and not worry that his life was in danger.
“Sorry. Not in the mood.”
She raised an eyebrow again. “Liar.”
“I’m a guy, honey. You look at my cock like that, it’s gonna stand at attention. It doesn’t mean my mind is into it.” It was, though. He just liked putting her off balance. She deserved it after what she’d put him through.
&
nbsp; Her cool mask slid a little before she recovered and snapped it back into place. But he’d seen the slip, and it made him smile. She might not be the same naïve woman who’d left her family in Stone Harbor three years ago, but she wasn’t as tough as she wanted everyone to believe. She needed someone to reintroduce her to the tender side of herself. Someone to shower her with the attention she needed.
He coughed to cover a harsh laugh. That someone would most certainly not be him. He had neither the time nor the inclination to baby a woman in need. He liked his women independent, and disposable. None of that had changed. He wasn’t looking for a psycho bent on murdering him. One psychotic girlfriend in the past few years was enough.
Michelle had caused endless problems in his life. Caused him to lose a job he loved, a job he’d held for ten years. And he’d never be able to work as a detective again, at least not without changing his identity. He’d had to leave his home, the peaceful little town he’d been hiding in for a decade. All because he’d gotten involved with the wrong woman. In the end, he’d been a suspect in her murder.
What would happen this time?
He was a fool to think he’d be able to walk away.
Half of him wanted to pull her close, to promise her that everything would be okay. The other half of him wanted to pull her close for entirely different reasons. And she knew it, too, damn the woman.
But she didn’t know that the drugs she’d given him had worn off. He still had that little secret and he wasn’t quite ready to share.
“Again I’ll say it. You’re a liar, Wil.”
“Maybe I am.”
“Are you willing to do anything about it?”
She had no idea. He’d enjoy this more than the night before, since he knew something she didn’t. Something important. It would make his release all the more sweet. “Believe me, sweetheart, I’m more than willing. But in the position you’ve put me in, I’m pretty much useless. You’re going to have to do most of the work.”
* * * * *
Becca smiled despite the horror this job had become. She’d gladly do all the work if it meant getting to have him again, on her terms. This time he wouldn’t take control as he had before. He wouldn’t be able to. She had him right where she wanted him, on so many levels.
“That’s fine with me.” She pulled the sheet down from his body, exposing him completely in the dim lamplight.
He was a magnificent specimen to look at—tall, well-built body, strong muscles, skin lightly furred with hair as dark as the hair on his head. His cock was long and thick, nestled in a bed of dark hair. He looked beautiful, like an offering to some pagan god, stretched out naked on her bed with his arms fastened to the headboard, his chest and side muscled pulled tight from the strain.
For a long time she just looked at him, enjoying the reactions her gaze provoked. His breathing grew heavy. His cock twitched, hardened and lengthened even more. When her gaze locked with his, his eyes darkened and his lips drew into a thin, straight line. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. She knew what he was feeling inside. Confusion, frustration. Anger and lust. She knew because she felt the same emotions swirling deep inside her, churning around until she couldn’t make sense of anything. The smart thing to do would be to let him go. But she couldn’t. Not now. There were too many unknowns for her to take that chance.
She reached out and placed her hand on his thigh, just above the knee. The muscle under her palm jumped. She moved her palm slowly up his leg, stopping just before she reached the juncture of his hip and groin. He sucked in a breath.
“What are you doing?”
“All the work, remember?”
His groan was answer enough.
She leaned in and kissed him right above her hand and he groaned again. Her pussy fluttered, her juices seeping out to coat her outer lips. As much as she wanted to sink down on top of him and end the wait for both of them, she’d enjoy torturing him more. He’d have to wait, but she wouldn’t. Instead of moving her hand to grip his cock, she pulled it away from his body, stood, and stripped out of her clothes.
When she was naked, she knelt next to him on the empty side of the bed and smiled down at him. “You look like you might be in pain there, Wil.”
He let out a harsh laugh. “Just a little bit.”
“I’d love to say I’m going to help you with that, but right now I have my own needs to take care of.” She brought her hands up to cup her breasts, plumping them together. Her fingers brushed her nipples, circling around the stiffened, sensitive flesh. A moan escaped her lips, as much from the heated look on his face as the touch of her fingers to her own skin. She pinched her nipples between her thumbs and forefingers and let out a ragged sigh. The only thing better at the moment would be if it were Wil’s hands on her body, Wil’s fingers pinching and pulling at her distended nipples. Wil’s lips suckling her, his tongue swirling, his cock buried deep inside her pussy.
She trailed one hand down her stomach and with slow, deliberate movements parted her thighs to give Wil a better view of what she planned next. She slid two fingers into her slick cunt. Her inner walls gripped them tight, pulsing around them with every long, slow thrust. She writhed, rocking her pelvis back and forth.
“God, this feels so good.” She brought her thumb up to circle her clit in time with the thrusts of her fingers.
She’d never touched herself in such an intimate way in front of a man, and it was more of a turn-on than she’d ever expected. The knowledge that Wil watched, hard and ready but unable to do anything about it, only increased her arousal. Most of the time she was perfectly happy to let the man take charge in the bedroom, but with Wil everything had changed. She wanted to be the one in control this time. The one to decide what happened and when, the one to set the pace of the encounter. The one to drive her partner crazy with want and need.
The strokes of her fingers grew sharp and erratic. Her lower muscles tightened in anticipation. It wouldn’t be long. Having Wil watch her pleasure herself was pushing her toward the edge almost before she was ready. Soon she fell forward, her free hand hit the mattress and her whole body shook. She gasped and moaned, trying to hold back but afraid it wouldn’t be possible much longer.
Wil’s pained groan echoed through the room. “Stop.”
There was such torment in his voice that her fingers stilled inside her. She opened her eyes and glanced up at him.
“What?” she asked, her voice breathless with her impending orgasm.
“I want to make you come.”
“How?”
“Straddle my face.”
A quiver ran through her core at his words.
“Please,” he continued, his tone edgy and pained. “I want to taste you. Need to taste.”
He gave her a hot, intense smile that bared his gleaming white fangs. She shivered, remembering what it had been like when he’d sunk those fangs into her shoulder when he thought she’d been too far gone to pay attention. There had been pain, but the pleasure of his bite had far outweighed it.
She licked her lips. “I don’t think so. I don’t think you deserve a taste.”
Her body screamed at her in protest, an ache she couldn’t silence settling into her stomach.
“You deserve it. Let me lick you. Let me suck your clit into my mouth, fuck you with my tongue. Let me make you come, Becca. It’ll be worth it. I promise.”
His voice was hoarse, hot and very convincing. With a shuddering sigh, she moved up to the head of the bed and straddled his face.
He didn’t waste any time once he had her there. His tongue ran from her clit to her cunt before he speared it inside her, stroking and lapping her juices. She had to grip the headboard with both hands to keep from losing her balance. He alternated between thrusts into her cunt and swirls around her clit, bringing her closer and closer to the edge without letting her tumble off.
Her body rocked and bowed, her mind hazy and her vision blurry. She could do nothing more than close her eyes and hang
on for the ride. What a talented tongue the man had. She’d never felt anything so intense. So damned near perfect it turned her inside out.
Her skin heated, her muscled clenched tight. When he finally stopped the thrusts and stroked his tongue hard over her clit, she came with a sharp cry. Her body stiffened before letting go into a series of convulsions that thrust her breasts against the high headboard. All the while Wil kept his mouth on her, wringing out every last moan and shudder until she’d regained enough control over her body to move down and straddle his chest.
“Wow,” she told him, trying to hide her goofy smile. Her skin flushed in embarrassment at the intimate position he’d been able to coax her into. Her juices glistened on his lips and chin and the scent of her arousal filled the air.
“You’re amazing,” Wil told her, his voice a little strained. “Ride me, Becca.”
She frowned. “I can’t take any more.”
“Believe me, I won’t last long. Not in this state.”
She glanced behind her at his huge, throbbing cock. In her post-orgasmic state she’d forgotten he hadn’t gotten any relief. She should leave him like that, make him suffer to show she still held power over him, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She slid down his body, grasped his cock in her hand, and lowered herself down until he was fully seated within her. He bucked his hips, sending a wave of tremors through her body. One stroke of that thick cock inside her, then two, and she was exploding all over again.
Her body pitched forward, her hands landing on the mattress on either side of Wil’s body, her cunt spasming around his cock as he continued to thrust inside her. And then he stiffened, her name on his lips as his cum spurted inside her, bathing her insides with the hot jets. When he relaxed underneath her she let herself fall forward, every muscle in her body giving out. Delicious tremors still raced through her cunt, only adding to the experience. She smiled against his damp skin. She’d been in control the whole time and it had been awesome.
