by Nina Croft
But at the last second he hesitated; he had to have her consent. “You’re sure?” he asked.
Chapter 7
Why was he asking her? She just wanted to forget. Forget Justin. Forget what she had promised to do. Forget her nightmares.
“Bella?”
She nodded her head, and heat flared in his eyes, his face lighting up with a savage hunger.
Her heart raced. The fear didn’t make her need go away. If anything, it burned hotter. She’d never felt like this before. If her mother had managed to do one thing, it was to put Bella off casual sex. Any sex in fact. Up until now.
The little part of her mind still functioning, told her it was just heightened emotions, a reaction to all that had happened over the past two days. Justin had been her only real friend. The one person she had allowed to get close to her emotionally. Now she was alone, adrift, and she needed something to connect her with the human race, to anchor her to the living.
It didn’t have to mean anything. It wasn’t as if she was promising forever.
Just sex.
Torr’s large hands still rested on the curve of her hips, now they slid around to cup her ass. He squeezed, urging her closer and his touch burned through her, melting her core.
The steely hardness of his erection pressed against her and his low groan sounded in her ear. He was so big, and a ripple of unease shivered down her spine. Leaning back, she stared into his face. “Torr….” She bit her lip, and his gaze dropped to stare at her mouth. “I’ve never done this before.”
Shock flared in his eyes, his hands tightened on her. “What?”
“I’m a virgin. You know—untouched by human hands. Pure as the—”
His hands left her body, to cup her face. He looked into her eyes, his glowed golden, filled with wonder. “Why?” Then he shook his head. “No. Don’t tell me. It’s enough to know.”
Then the wonder faded. His brows drew together, and his beautiful lips tightened. His hands slid to her waist, and he picked her up, placed her on the bed, and then rose to his feet. Her muscles tensed as she knelt on the black velvet cover, a matching frown forming on her face as he paced the room, all pent-up energy. The air thrummed with tension; she could almost see the sparks shooting out from him.
Was he going to turn her down? Maybe he had something against virgins. Perhaps she should tell him about the ‘just sex’ thing. Reassure him that she wasn’t going to get clingy.
It was odd. While she’d never considered herself particularly attractive—she was too small and skinny for most men’s tastes—it had never occurred to her that Torr wouldn’t want her. Not after the kiss they’d shared earlier. She’d sensed his need, his desire.
Finally, he halted beside her, running a hand through his hair, then opened his mouth, closed it again without saying anything.
“I don’t expect anything from you,” she said, taking pity on him. “I haven’t been holding out for marriage or anything. You don’t have to worry.”
At her words, he came down on the bed, kneeling at her side. “I’m not worried. But I don’t want to hurt you. It’s been a long time for me and you’re small and I’m…”
Tension drained from her and her shoulders slumped. He wasn’t rejecting her, after all. Then her gaze flashed to the bulge in his pants and her lips quirked. “Not?” Reaching out, she stroked her hand down his cheek. “You don’t have to do anything except hold me.”
His lips curled in a rueful smile. “I don’t think that’s an option now. I want you too much.”
“You do?”
His smile widened. “You can’t be that naïve.”
Taking hold of her hand, he pressed it against his groin. She felt the shape of him with her fingers, hot and hard, and squeezed gently.
His eyes closed and his head went back, his breath coming hard and fast.
She fumbled with the button at his waist and finally managed to flick it open. Her fingers shook as she lowered his zipper. He sprang free, the skin silky, flushed with blood at the swollen head. Sitting back on her heels, she stared at him. He was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Her mouth went dry and she licked her lips.
Torr made an impatient sound and ripped his shirt open, shrugging out of it, and tossing it to the floor behind him. He stood, pushed down his pants, and kicked off his shoes so he was naked. His skin was pale, his shoulders massive, with the lines of muscle clearly visible. A sprinkling of midnight black hair ran down his lean belly, then flared at his groin. His shaft sprang from the dark curls, almost vertical.
He came back to kneel in front of her. “Touch me,” he murmured, his voice hoarse with need.
Bella leaned down and kissed the tip and he jerked beneath her caress. He tasted salty and sweet and she breathed in the musky, male scent of him. She flicked him with her tongue, then lingered, licking her way around the hood, down the long length of his shaft to his balls, drawn tight with need. She kissed him there as well.
He’d gone completely still, and she paused and peered up the length of his body. His eyes were half-closed, gleaming behind his thick lashes, and a dull flush shadowed his sharp cheekbones.
His hands hung at his side. Now they came up to stroke her hair. “You don’t have to do this.”
“I want to.”
Her sex was swollen and drenched with need; still, she felt a shiver of nerves at the thought of him filling her. Maybe she was putting off the moment. But she loved learning the taste of him, the feel of him beneath her hands and fingers, her mouth.
She kissed his belly then shifted back, undid her jeans and wriggled out of them, then pulled her T-shirt over her head, so she was left wearing only her black cotton panties. Her nipples were tight, swollen, almost painfully sensitive. As his hand cupped one small breast, his thumb stroked over the taut peak, and jolts of intense pleasure shot down through her belly to settle between her thighs.
She needed to know she could give him pleasure. She wanted to finish this and she pushed him down. He went willingly and she bent her head over him and took him in her mouth, sucking hard as his hips pushed up against her mouth.
For a minute, she was sure he’d protest, then his fingers threaded in her hair and he held her to him.
***
Perhaps if he came once he might have more control.
His head was still reeling with her admission that she was a virgin. It had both thrown him and filled him with a fierce delight. But he didn’t want to hurt her and he wasn’t sure how much control he had right now.
Wrapping his hand around the back of her neck, he guided her, slowing her, and then holding her still as he pumped into her mouth. His orgasm was building. He released the last of his control. Let himself go. Pleasure tightened his balls, shot up his spine, flooded his system. He thrust into her mouth, hand clenched in her hair.
Finally, it was over and he stared down at her as she peered at him through her lashes. “Thank you.” He dragged her beside him so they lay side by side, Bella half on him, her head on his chest. He stroked his palm down the line of her ribcage to rest on the jut of her sharp hipbone. She was thinner than he remembered. Soraya had loved food and she’d been smooth and soft to the touch. Bella needed feeding up.
He clasped her, a hand on either side of her waist, and lifted her with ease, held her balanced above him, then lowered her so her head was level with his and he kissed her. His mouth slanted over hers, and she opened to him, his tongue slipping inside. He could taste himself on her lips, her tongue, and the memory sent blood rushing to his cock.
He lowered her and then rolled so she was beneath him. “Tell me what you want,” he murmured.
“I don’t know.”
He almost smiled. She’d always been honest.
He traced a finger down over her cheek, her jaw line, the soft skin of her throat, pausing where her pulse beat, pumping her blood, so close to the surface. Then lower, tracing lazy patterns over her breasts, teasing her nipples with his fingertips, tuggi
ng each taut little bud between his finger and thumb. Her back arched and he bent over her and took her in his mouth, suckled her. First gently, then harder as she moaned and writhed against him.
She was still wearing the black panties and he stroked his palm down her flat, stomach and slipped his hand beneath the elastic and into the soft silky hair at the juncture of her thighs. As he cupped her sex, she went instantly still and he probed the slippery folds and found her hot and wet. He tugged at the panties and she lifted her hips so he could drag them down leaving her naked. His cock throbbed, already hard again, and his balls ached viciously.
Slipping a hand between her legs, he spread her thighs. He kissed her breasts one last time then raised himself up on his elbow so he could watch her while he touched her, gauge her reaction. Her face was flushed, her mouth slightly parted. She was small and tight, but his finger pushed inside her with ease. Her eyes widened then screwed up tight as he pulled free and traced lightly up toward her swollen nub. He stopped just short and her lashes fluttered open. She held his gaze as he teased her sensitive flesh, rubbing circles around her clit, never quite touching until her hips were thrusting up from the bed and her thighs widened of their own accord.
When he knew she was nearly there, he rubbed over her with the pad of his thumb, and felt her tremble. She was so close. He stroked her again, and at the same time, he stabbed a finger inside her and felt her spasm around him. Her back arched, her head fell back, and she screamed.
He soothed her until the tremors faded, and then pinched her clit between his finger and thumb, and she came again. This time he rose up over her. He parted her with the fingers of one hand, held himself at the entrance to her body.
Her eyes widened and he hesitated.
“Please,” she murmured. “Don’t stop.”
He held her gaze as he pushed inside her. Her body accepted him with ease and her inner muscles tightened around him. It was like coming home, and he knew, in that sublime moment, that he would abandon Heaven again for the feel of this.
He stayed still for long moment while her body adjusted to his, then started to move slowly at first, judging her reaction. But she was with him all the way, her hips rising to him with each thrust. His own orgasm tugged at his balls, tightening his spine. He kissed the tender spot where her collarbone met her neck, burrowed his face against her skin, breathing in the hot scent of arousal. It seemed so natural, so right, and without even thinking, his fangs sank into the soft flesh of her throat. He felt her jump against him, her body going rigid and then she relaxed, boneless.
Her hot blood flooded his mouth and he swallowed convulsively, holding her tight against him as he pumped into her and pleasure exploded through him.
He kissed her throat, lapped at the small puncture wounds, then eased away so he could look down into her face. There was no look of horror in her eyes. He knew from experience that the human brain blanked out the blood taking; it merged with the pleasure, faded from the mind.
She blinked up at him, her expression dazed. “I…” She shuddered. “I didn’t know it could be like that.”
He kissed her lightly on the lips. “Like what?” He waited for her answer, his whole body tense.
“So intense. Thank you for making me forget.”
“It was my pleasure.” He stroked her hair. “Go to sleep.”
He rolled onto his back and pulled her against his side. Less than a minute later, her breathing changed, and he knew she was sleeping.
***
Bella came awake slowly from a dreamless sleep. She felt good, relaxed, and so unbelievably warm. Something bad hovered at the edge of her mind, but she pushed it away.
Just a little longer before she allowed reality in.
She lay on her side; her back spooned against a hot, male body. One thigh was thrown over her and one arm wrapped around her, a large hand cupped her small breast. She’d never woken up beside anyone else before. She wriggled and the hand tightened, sending a shaft of pleasure shooting down through her belly.
What had she done?
Shit. She’d not only done it, she’d enjoyed it. More than enjoyed it. The memory of the pleasure sent tremors rippling through her, concentrating between her thighs, and she pressed her legs together to relieve the ache.
She’d never wanted a man before. How had Torr broken through her barriers? And what other barriers would he break if she allowed him to?
She remembered then.
Justin was dead.
The memory swept over her, so strong, she thought the pain would wash her away. She bit down on her lip, needing to focus. Justin had been her one friend, the only person who had ever offered her help and asked for nothing in return. Now, she was truly on her own. And maybe that was the best way to be. In the end, you couldn’t rely on anyone but yourself.
Letting Torr get close was a mistake, but she’d been upset, weak.
She glanced down at the hand against her breast, fingers splayed across her pale skin. Carefully, she unpeeled them, and slid from his embrace. A wave of regret washed over her as she inched herself away from him. She ignored the emotion—she was good at that—and stood up. For a moment, she swayed, reaching out to press her fingers against the wall.
Don’t be such a freaking wimp.
Stiffening her shoulders, she straightened and looked around. Her jeans and T-shirt were on the floor at her feet, her panties she found at the end of the bed but couldn’t find her boots or socks. She pulled on her clothes, and only then allowed herself to look at Torr. He’d rolled onto his back, one arm flung above his head. His face was softened in sleep, and she fought the urge to stroke a finger down the pale line that marred his lean, handsome face. Smooth away the pain. The scar tugged at the corner of his upper lip, pulling his mouth into a perpetual half smile.
Her eyes slid down over his body. He was the most perfect thing she had ever seen, with broad shoulders, clearly defined muscles, ridged abdomen, and long legs. Her eyes flickered over his sex, and he twitched as though she’d touched him.
“Bella,” he murmured her name; and for a moment, she thought he’d awoken, but he was still sleeping.
She backed out of the room and found herself in a hallway. She had no clue where she was, though she presumed she was somewhere in the Stormlord Securities building, and she wanted to get back to her own apartment. She needed to check on Skip, and she needed to think and wanted her own space to do it in.
The first door she tried opened into a large living area. The second led into a corner office with a set of large double doors across a huge expanse of floor. She was halfway across the room when the doors opened. Cade stepped in, his eyes widening as he caught sight of her.
His gaze ran over her, no doubt taking in her bare feet curled into the soft carpet. His eyes flashed to her throat, hovered and something fluttered at the edge of her mind. Something she should remember. She reached up and touched her neck, felt the small mark on her skin and frowned.
“I walked your dog,” Cade said, interrupting her thoughts
“You did? How kind.”
He shoved his hands in his pocket, looking a little uncomfortable and she got the impression it wasn’t a feeling he was used to. “Is Torr…?” He nodded to the door she had come through.
“Yes.” She didn’t elaborate. “How do I get to my room?”
“Back the way you came, through the door opposite and there’s an elevator.”
“Thanks.” She turned to go, but paused at the doors and looked back over her shoulder. He still stood in the center of the room.
“My friend?” she said. “Torr said you were…” She trailed off not sure what to say.
“He’s been buried. I’ll show you where sometime.”
“I’d like that.”
When she finally made her way back to her apartment, she found a man leaning casually against the wall beside her door. Tall, with overlong blond hair, the face of a dissipated angel, and a long lean body in faded jeans and
a white linen shirt. He straightened when he caught sight of her.
Despite the difference in coloring, he had the feel of both Torr and Cade. A sense of leashed power, a restless energy, barely controlled. He smiled and held out a hand.
“I’m Finn. Cade called, asked me if I could watch over you.”
Irritation flicked at her nerve endings, she looked at the hand, then back at his face. “I don’t need anyone to watch me. I’m quite capable of watching myself.” But she reached out and took his hand.
He held it for a moment, then released her and stepped back. “Don’t worry, I’ll stay out here. Cade thought you might be concerned after what happened to your friend.”
She looked into his face to find him studying her, head cocked to one side.
Was he looking at her neck?
Was she getting paranoid?
By force of will, she stopped her hand from rising and checking. Instead, she pushed open her door and slipped inside. Skip bounded out of the sitting room and into her arms. She pulled him close for a minute, before placing him gently on the floor.
In the bathroom, she stood in front of the mirror and turned her head so she could see the side of her neck. Two dark red marks marred the paleness of her skin. The biggest hickey she had ever seen.
She had a flashback to Torr buried deep inside her. Pleasure she’d never even dreamed of, pulsating through her. He’d been kissing her neck, and she’d felt a sharp pain. But however hard she tried to remember, she couldn’t dredge up the details; she’d been hardly conscious by that point, the pain and the pleasure all bound together, dragging her under.
She lifted a shaking hand and rubbed at the marks. They didn’t hurt and were already healing. What the hell was going on here? Who were these people?
What were they?
Vampires?
Nah.
She didn’t believe in that crap.
A hysterical giggle rose up in the back of her throat and she clamped her hand over her mouth. There would be a rational explanation, but she really couldn’t think of one right now.
