I felt like I was sneaking around, because I guess I was.
Hiking my bag over my shoulder to cross my chest, I opened the wrought iron gate that led to his back door. At the center of his pretty brick courtyard, there was a trickling fountain that butted up against the white fence that separated our backyards. Summoning courage, I inhaled a deep breath and knocked on the door.
No answer. This could be a terrible mistake. What if he already had a woman in there? A blood host? A lover? Or both? And he was at this very minute kissing down her throat like he did that actress in the movie. What if they were going to town in his no-doubt luxurious bed, and I was standing here on his doorstep like an idiot?
Oh, hell.
I turned away right as the door swung open. Devraj stood there in his jeans, a T-shirt, and his bare feet, his long hair down around his shoulders. He had a kitchen towel in his hand and something smelled heavenly coming from his kitchen. His signature smile beamed as his warm brown eyes ate me up from top to bottom.
I didn’t even think to change, dammit! What kind of panties was I wearing? Did it really matter?
“This is a pleasant surprise.”
“Hi.” My voice had a little squeak to it, but there was no going back now. Lifting my chin, I plowed forward. “I’d like to take you up on your offer,” I said with as much confidence as I could manage. “On a one-night stand. Well, not a whole night. Just one time. Or one sitting really.” A sitting? This wasn’t a portrait painting. I glanced back at the darkening sky. “A one-evening stand, I suppose. I have till ten o’clock.” After that, Jules would be texting Tia, frantically worrying about me because I was always in bed by ten-thirty. Always. “If the offer still stands, of course.”
During my ridiculous word-vomit, I made myself hold still and not fidget while his smile slipped and his jaw slid open.
He blinked. And blinked again. Did I break him?
“Or maybe we can do it another night.”
As I turned to walk away, he grabbed my hand. “Come in. Are you hungry?”
I let him guide me down the short hall and through a very clean living room. There were no signs of moving boxes. He’d settled in quickly, but I guess that was normal for someone who traveled as much as he probably did. Though decorations were sparse, he had some unique and beautiful furnishings and décor. But I didn’t have time to soak it in before he pulled me into a well-lit kitchen.
Forcing myself to relax a little since it was obvious he wasn’t going to pounce on me like I imagined this happening, I said, “It smells delicious. What are you cooking?”
He dropped my hand and ambled over to the stove where he had a chopping board and some purple onions partially diced, the knife set aside. The thought of him doing something simple and domestic when I knocked on the door—rather than him ravishing some nameless woman in his bedroom—had me breathing easier.
“It’s called dabeli. One of my favorites.” He flashed a smile over his shoulder as he continued chopping. “Have a seat.”
He gestured toward the island where two barstools stood. Setting my handbag down on his kitchen table, I took a seat at the island behind him.
“What’s that there?” I asked, pointing to the mixing bowl next to a variety of ingredients.
“This is the dabeli masala and sweet chutney,” he said, setting the mixture aside as his nonstick pan heated. He poured some oil in the pan. “I’m making the stuffing now.”
He continued to add some mashed potatoes and diced onions to the sizzling pan, then the mixture from the bowl. His back was to me, which only drew my eyes to the broad expanse as his hands moved lithely, stirring the ingredients into the pan. I couldn’t help but watch his muscles flex and move under his T-shirt that stretched a little too tight. I’d only seen him in dress shirts before.
He removed the pan from the flame and transferred the mixture to a plate where he pressed it with the flat of a wooden spoon. Finally, he sprinkled it with coriander, coconut, and pomegranate.
“Here. Taste.” He turned with a small spoonful of the stuffing and held it up to my mouth, a smile ticking up on one side.
I let him feed it to me. He watched my mouth as I chewed. The flavor was delicious.
“And do you eat it just like that?” I asked, pretending I hadn’t come here solely for sex and this was perfectly normal.
“No. They go into the pavs.” He pointed to what looked like sweet rolls, cut down the middle. “I’ll make you a few right now if you want.”
This man had an unfairly sensual voice. Deep, dark, and rich. A timbre that normally rolled with sweet promises and soft seduction. But right now? It had morphed into some kind of entity all its own. A superpower he was using to lure me closer. The thing was, he didn’t have to seduce me. I was here of my own accord for just one thing. And even so, his voice, his beauty, his alluring mannerisms and yes, dammit, his irresistible charm, had me completely trapped. Entranced. Wanting.
I licked my lips but couldn’t seem to find any words.
“You are hungry, aren’t you, Isadora?”
Those dark eyes rolled with silver.
I nodded.
“For food?” he asked. “Or something else?”
“Something else. I already told you.”
And I wasn’t going to repeat myself because once was all I could bear.
He set the spoon aside without removing his gaze from mine, then planted his hands on the island countertop on either side of my hips, trapping me within his embrace.
“One night?” he asked, raising his brow in question.
“Not a whole night,” I clarified. “I have to be home by ten o’clock.”
His mouth—wow, he had lovely lips—quirked up on one side, finding this amusing for some reason.
“Then we better get started,” he whispered, leaning in.
He was going to kiss me. Of course, he was going to kiss me. What was I thinking? Then why was my heart trying to leap out of my chest at this sudden revelation?
I don’t know what I expected. Something tender? Or fierce and ravishing? I wasn’t sure. But what I didn’t expect was the unbelievably slow descent of his mouth, barely open as it swept feather-soft against mine.
My eyes slid closed automatically as he continued his gentle sweep, not once landing. When he traced the seam of my lips with the tip of his tongue, I gasped. He glided one hand around my nape, holding me still, firm and possessive. He skated his thumb up my jaw in a tender caress, pausing at the tip of my chin, all the while seducing my mouth with whispery brushes of his lips. It was maddening.
Then he pulled his mouth away, making me groan in frustration. My pulse pounded a million miles a minute. I was sure he could hear it. I dared to open my eyes, knowing I’d find that smirky smile of his as he watched me come undone from a not-quite kiss.
But he wasn’t smiling. No. Quite the opposite. His dark eyes shimmered with the silver of his vampire. And the lust pouring off him licked me like flame. From his open lips, I caught the glint of his tongue piercing as well as two slivers of canine teeth. Though I thought it impossible, my heart battered even harder, knocking on my ribcage with a potent mixture—mostly of excitement, but also with a touch of fear.
“Are you going to bite me?” I whispered, my voice husky.
“Do you want me to?” He trailed his thumb down my throat then back up to my chin, effectively holding me in place.
For a split second, I actually had to think about that question, which was ridiculous. No witch wants to be bitten by a vampire. It’s said that a vampire bite, though pleasurable, renders a person helpless, enthralled. That sort of thing would require an inordinate amount of trust. This was only one-time sex.
“No,” I finally answered. Pretty sure that was the right answer.
His expression didn’t change at all, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes I couldn’t decipher.
“Then no biting,” he agreed.
Lightning-swift, he pressed down on m
y chin with his thumb, opening my mouth and tilting my head before his mouth crushed against mine. He swept in with his tongue, consuming me, the combination of softness and his steel stud melting me onto the barstool.
I whimpered, only then realizing I had both hands clenched in his T-shirt, his rock-hard chest pressing closer. My feet were propped on the rung of the stool with his body slightly wedged between. He skated a hand up my calf to my knee where he squeezed then spread my leg wider so he could press his pelvis into mine.
All the while his mouth worked me into a frenzy of need, his large hand inching upward to wrap around my lower thigh, just holding me still while he kissed me into oblivion.
I’d been kissed a lot. But whatever Devraj was doing with his tongue, his mouth, the tips of his teeth, nibbling my lower lip one second, coaxing me gently, then diving deep the next, was nothing I’d experienced before. It was like he was exploring his newly conquered territory. No hesitancy since he owned it, but definite mapping of every inch with his mouth. Then that glorious mouth trailed down my jaw to my neck.
I grabbed hold of one of his shoulders—damn, but they were tight with flexed muscle—and combed the other into that thick mass of hair. He groaned against a tender spot at the base of my throat.
“I was going to ask you”—he scraped his sharpened canines along my shoulder, pulling aside the strap of my sleeveless dress—“if you wanted me to fuck you hard or nice and slow.” Another scrape of his sharp teeth then a soothing sweep of his tongue. “But I’ve figured out what you want. What you need.”
“Oh, yeah?” I asked, shocked to hear myself panting in his quiet kitchen. “What do I need?”
He stilled with his mouth above my collarbone, tracing the delicate line with his tongue, the smooth piercing a tantalizing caress.
“Everything,” he whispered against my skin. “And I’m going to give it to you.”
That’s when I realized he’d somehow managed to unfasten the entire line of buttons of my chambray dress without me knowing. Right before he eased it open. He stood back, exposing all of me in nothing but my white cotton panties and bra. He’d inched back enough to take a long leisurely look, his hands skating up and down my sides. His thumbs pressed low on my hips, heated desire pouring off him in waves.
I’d settled my hands on his arms below his biceps, waiting for some pretty words or a few seductive ones. But he said nothing, just stared, drinking me in.
“Devraj,” I interrupted, starting to feel self-conscious.
He startled, his gaze meeting mine, a calculating intensity behind mahogany eyes.
“What?” I pushed, needing to know what he was thinking.
His grip on my waist tightened and he lifted me onto the narrow end of the island. The action shocked me so much I yipped and grabbed hold of his forearms. Now he was standing between my legs and easing my dress off my arms to drape across the countertop behind me.
“I apologize,” he whispered, his hands coasting under my arms and behind my back to unhook my bra. “I was planning…”
“Planning?”
He pulled off my bra, then grazed his palm between my breasts, his hand spanning across my collarbone.
“All the things I plan to do to you within the next four hours.” He pushed me gently, easing me back onto the island lengthwise. “You might want to hold on,” he suggested, placing my hands on the edges of the granite before he hooked his fingers under my panties and swiftly pulled them down my legs.
Oh, boy. I was fully naked, lying on the island with the evening light shining through his window. Thankfully, it was a high window so no one could see in from the road, but the idea of being so exposed, and in broad daylight, was completely terrifying. And exciting.
I’d always had sex in a bedroom and usually in the dark. This was entirely new. Devraj had me splayed out naked in his kitchen, about to be the main course.
He gripped the flaps of my dress hanging over the island and slid my body till my bum was at the edge. He trailed his hands along the backs of my calves to my knees, bending his body and anchoring my thighs against his broad shoulders.
Oh, boy, oh, boy.
I caught the flash of his fanged smile as he held my gaze, lowering closer, and that was just too much for me. I dropped my head and stared at the kitchen ceiling. He glided a finger through my slickness and groaned his approval.
“Isadora,” he whispered with a kind of intense adoration that had me arching my neck, the heat of his breath at my core, the scruff on his jaw scratching my inner thigh.
Gripping the edges of the countertop, I readied myself for the sensation of his pierced tongue. But when he spread me with two fingers and licked lightly over my clit, I knew there had been no way to prepare myself for this.
“Oh, God.” My hips came off the counter, but then he spread a hand over my pelvis and pressed me down.
“Easy. Just getting started, love.”
Then he was eating me properly. No more gentle brushes. Insatiable licks up to my clit that had my hips rocking, but he held me hard, his heavy groans mixing with mine. He slid two fingers through my wetness then pushed inside me as he closed his mouth over my tight nub, flicking wickedly with his pierced tongue.
“Oh, my God.” I couldn’t help it. I fisted my hand in his hair and rocked my hips in rhythm to his thrusting, knowing I was about to come already. If I could’ve thought beyond the blinding pleasure racing through my body, I might’ve been embarrassed.
His responding growl of pleasure vibrated against my tender flesh, sending me over the edge. I cried out as I came so hard with his mouth buried between my thighs, his lips tugging with a sweet suction on my clit.
His finger-fucking slowed as I whimpered through my orgasm, starting to become a little embarrassed now that I realized how easy it had been for him to get me off. When my breathing was almost normal, he slipped his fingers out of me and stood. I figured he’d have a smug look and a few snarky words, but again, Devraj surprised me. His hard expression meant all business.
“My bag,” I said, pointing to the kitchen table.
He walked over and then brought it back to me as I sat up. I rifled around inside until I found what I was looking for. I handed it to him and dropped my bag to the floor.
His pursed brow smoothed when he took the condom from me, looking it over before he tossed it on the kitchen counter and smiled. “That won’t fit, love.”
He eased to my side to lift me into his arms with one arm under my knees, the other cradling my upper body against his warm chest.
“It won’t?” I clasped him around his neck, holding on. I was proud of being so prepared, but apparently I hadn’t thought of various sizes.
He didn’t answer, just chuckled, as he carried me out of the kitchen into the living room. But instead of heading down the hall toward his bedroom, he walked over to his tall fireplace and settled me onto a plush white rug in front of a dark purple chaise. He stood and used a remote to flick on the gas fireplace. It was late spring and definitely not the time for a fire, but the heat of it warmed my exposed skin. That was pretty thoughtful.
Thoughtful was becoming synonymous with Devraj. And so many other words. Kind. Strong. Beautiful. I’d been too quick to judge when we first met, but the more I learned of him, the more I sank into a world of feelings. The cuff on his wrist reminded me again of his love for his mother. Why did he have to be so magnificent in every way?
I spread my palms over the soft rug. “Here?”
He reached over his shoulders with both hands and grabbed his T-shirt, lifting it over his head and tossing it aside. “For starters.”
Jeesh. This man was all ripped flesh and lovely contours with a trail of sparse hair leading beneath his belt. Which he was now unbuckling.
“Not your bed?” I managed to ask, unable to keep my eyes off his progression as he unsnapped and unzipped his jeans before sliding them and his black briefs down his legs.
“We’ll get there,” he said, stand
ing to his full height in front of me.
His hand went to his jutting erection where he pumped it once, nice and slow. I couldn’t stop devouring him with my eyes, his muscular thighs and chiseled abdomen, the small dark circles of his nipples, tight and pebbled.
Another piercing in his left nipple glinted by the firelight. I gulped at the sight of him. I had no idea body piercings would have this sort of effect over me. I also had no clue the sight of this magnificent, bare man would turn me on so fast.
His body was a love letter of perfection.
He hadn’t moved since he’d removed his clothes except for the slow pumping of his hand on that perfect penis.
Finally, I moved my gaze to his face, realizing he was stalling on purpose. “What are you waiting for?”
“Just letting you get a good look since I took my time when it was my turn.”
I’m not sure why, but I found that extremely thoughtful. He didn’t disrobe then pounce on me. Devraj was all about slow moves, sweet seduction, and reciprocation. He was a giver. Why that surprised me, I had no idea.
“Don’t move,” he commanded, disappearing down the hall and returning with what was obviously a few packets of condoms. Five? And a bottle of something else.
He set them on the wood floor beside the rug then grabbed a throw pillow from his sofa and tossed it to me.
“Roll over and rest your head. Time for a massage.”
I frowned up at him. He burst into laughter as he lowered to his knees. His hand spread over my hip and maneuvered me gently. “Roll over, Isadora.”
Okay, then. I wasn’t going to say no to a massage. I rolled over and curled my arms under the pillow, resting my head to face the warm fire.
He straddled me on his knees, which felt wildly erotic. And yet, I couldn’t see him, only feel him moving above me. He poured some kind of oil from a bottle that he set on the floor near my head. I heard him rubbing his hands together right before he spread those hands on my shoulders and squeezed. The oil smelled of a clean musky scent like cedarwood but also mingled with a faint floral smell. Jasmine or lilac. Maybe both. Heavenly.
Don't Hex and Drive Page 15
