Don't Hex and Drive

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Don't Hex and Drive Page 16

by Juliette Cross


  “Mmmm.” I couldn’t help myself as he glided his hands down my back and up my spine, the scented oil smoothing his way. The warmth seeped into my skin, and I realized the pleasant sizzle under my skin wasn’t just the firelight or his hands. “It’s so warm.”

  “It’s the oil,” he said. “Feels good?”

  “Amazing,” I admitted.

  He laughed again, a throaty sound that felt so close, loosening the tension in my belly. For even though he’d just unwound me quite a bit with a mind-blowing orgasm, I knew the main event was yet to come.

  His fingers worked magically on my back along my spine, then drifted lower as he pressed his thumbs over my lower back and then over my butt. I moaned again at the masterful press of his fingers. Who knew a butt massage could feel so good?

  His large hands massaged me there then stroked down the backs of my legs, pouring more oil into his hands and repeating his soothing strokes until I was humming with desire again. He pressed his thumb along the inside of my thighs then back up along the seam of my sex and my bum.

  I’d never had an erotic massage. I also had no idea my body could pulse with desire without ever touching the places I knew to be my trigger points of lust. If there was any doubt that Devraj knew what the hell he was doing in bed—or on the kitchen countertop or the living room rug—I now knew otherwise.

  I had my eyes closed, but I felt him shift, leaning over my body. I opened my eyes to slivers, seeing his arm braced beside my head. His mouth nipped a trail along my shoulder, his hair trailing in erotic sweeps over my bare skin. He glided a finger along a far too gentle path between my legs. If he didn’t know that he had turned me on before, he was well aware of what he did to me now. I was embarrassingly wet. But I couldn’t muster any shame when he continued to make my body melt into his soft rug.

  “We might ruin your rug,” I murmured.

  He nipped up to my neck. “I don’t care.” He bit my earlobe, sucking it before moving back to my throat. “I’ll buy a new one.”

  “So wasteful.” I realized my words were sluggish. I was drunk from sensation, but I still had to point out the error of his extravagant ways.

  “I was right.”

  “Right?” I barely managed to ask.

  A sharp nick of my shoulder before he licked the spot. “I wanted to see how amazing you’d look naked on this rug.” His voice dropped deeper, more dangerous. “You look like a fucking queen.”

  Then I couldn’t think anymore while his talented fingers worked between my legs. He circled my swollen clit before skating through my folds then up to the tight hole of my behind. I tensed, having never had anyone play with me there.

  “Relax for me,” he whispered in that velvet-dark voice.

  I did, thinking he planned to breach with his finger. But he didn’t. Just rimmed softly, the heated oil tantalizing me beyond reason. Then he lifted his body away, and I felt the loss of his heat, his hands, his mere presence, like someone had knocked the breath out of me. I frowned until I heard the familiar sound of a condom package being ripped open.

  I lifted onto my elbows and peered over my shoulder. He watched me watch him slide the condom on before he rolled me onto my back. With my knees bent, feet planted on either side of where he knelt, this was the moment Devraj would surge forward and take me hard and fast. But like always, I really didn’t know how he worked. Always doing the unexpected.

  He lifted one of my legs and nibbled a line up the inside before draping it over his shoulder. The sight of him and his slow descent over my body scattered my wits even further, if that were possible. I knew how fast vampires could move. I’d witnessed their movement so quick it was like they disappeared in one place and reappeared in another. What I didn’t know was that they could also move painfully slow.

  Painful because I wanted, needed, was about to beg him to get inside me. This was crazy torture.

  “Now,” I begged, unable to help myself.

  He didn’t say a word. I reached up, one hand on his bicep, the other skating down to his nipple with the piercing. I tugged gently on the tiny silver loop, wanting to lick his nipple. He sucked in a hissing breath then growled low in his throat. The reaction sparked something feral inside me.

  Following instinct, which is something I’d never done during sex, always overthinking, I gripped his bicep hard and pulled myself up. I opened my mouth over the pierced nipple and then flicked the loop with my tongue before I sucked hard.

  His hand was in my hair, fisting, and then he tugged me away, his gaze roaming my face, focusing intently on my mouth, his brow pinched, puzzled. Silver eyes met mine as he lowered us both, holding himself up on one elbow, scooping his hand into my hair to cradle my skull in his long-fingered hand.

  “Don’t rush me,” he whispered against my lips, aligning the swollen head of his cock to my entrance.

  “Rush you?” I huffed a frustrated breath and gripped both hands in his hair, fisting a thick handful. “Get inside me, Devraj Kumar.” So aggressive, so demanding, I hardly recognized myself. All I knew is that he had what I needed, and I wanted it right now.

  Something wild and ruthless sparked behind his vampire eyes, glowing with an intensity that had my pulse speeding to a maddening pace. Gripping the thigh of my leg pressing to his chest, he sank inside me, inch by slow inch.

  I gasped, but he swallowed the sound with a crushing kiss, staying still a moment while my body stretched around his. Then with shallow, sinuous thrusts back out, then back in, he seated himself fully inside me. He groaned long and loud into my mouth, his tongue stroking deep. He broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to mine, narrow slits of silver devouring me instead of his mouth.

  “So fucking perfect, aren’t you?”

  I couldn’t speak at the moment, panting uncontrollably, scraping my nails down his flexed back.

  “Scratch me up, Isadora. Mark me good.”

  Then the lithe rolls of his hips picked up speed, pounding into me with a new kind of intensity. Less controlled. More frantic. I skated both hands over his back and scratched the muscular length down his spine until I grabbed hold of the most perfect, tight ass I’d ever held.

  “Fuck, Isadora.” He moaned, his lips hovering over mine. “What are you doing to me?”

  Then I sunk my nails in, urging him faster. He didn’t disappoint, pumping hard and deep, circling his pelvis when he hit mine, which rubbed my clit teasingly. I felt a devastating orgasm building again. With my one leg planted on the floor, I rocked up, meeting him with each aggressive thrust.

  “Yes,” I murmured against his lips. “So good.”

  Because it was. He’d promised he’d make it good, prove me wrong. And I was sinking into oblivious ecstasy, thrilled that he’d been able to do so. He was so right. Sex wasn’t boring. I’d been with boring partners perhaps. Or maybe I was boring with them. But with Devraj, something had ignited inside of me, pulling the wild girl out of her hiding place. As I hovered just beyond my second orgasm, heavy emotions swept through my soul, whispering that a man like Devraj made bed play exciting. Exhilarating. Necessary.

  He pushed up off my body with one hand, the other sliding between my legs where he slicked a circle around my swollen nub, tightening my body further. He turned his head to place a suckling kiss to the inside of my knee where it draped over his shoulder, then focused his attention on the joining of our bodies.

  His dick thickened further, growing even harder as he watched himself thrust inside me, his thumb working magic circles. I let my hands fall to the rug, gripping and holding on as he pounded me harder.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he said like a curse, his face contorting into one of pain, baring his teeth.

  Oh, my God!

  The sight of his fangs out, his silver eyes glittering, his pained expression of dizzying lust fixed hard because of me had my body tipping over another cliff.

  “Ah!” I let out a cry, my mouth gaping open as I came with a fierce crash, my sex clenching around him.
>
  His gaze met mine, an indecipherable mania shining behind those vampire eyes as he fucked me even harder.

  “Yes,” was all he said as he thrust one last time and held, pulsing inside me with his own orgasm. “Yes.” His growl was gravel-deep.

  He groaned, holding his pelvis hard against mine, but moving in tiny massaging circles. Then he released my leg from his shoulder and lowered down to me again. He combed his fingers into my hair before sweeping an airy kiss against my lips.

  He did this for quite some time, and though it was too intimate for my comfort level, I couldn’t seem to push him away. To kiss him like this felt so natural, which in itself was strange. This was hook-up sex, I reminded myself. The intimacy he made me feel was a little frightening. Once again, my heart pounded erratically, reminding me that I was in a danger zone. Still, I couldn’t seem to help but wallow in this lovely intimacy.

  “You’re quite beautiful,” he finally said. He almost seemed shocked. Surprised. By his admission? I wasn’t sure.

  “I was thinking sort of the same thing about you,” I said softly.

  He grinned, staring at my mouth for a few seconds before meeting my eyes again. “I could get addicted to the expression on your face when you come.”

  Wow.

  I slid my eyes away from his, suddenly feeling shy. The men I’d been with had never said anything like that to me before. Rather than torture me further, he gave me a brief closed-mouth kiss and lifted off of me. I sucked in a breath when he withdrew from my body.

  Okay, so I was definitely wrong about small man syndrome. I was wrong about a lot of things. That he was just a selfish, conceited movie star vampire. Completely, wholly mistaken.

  As if to prove the point, he draped a plush throw over my body to keep me warm and comfortable. “Stay put. I’m going to feed you.”

  He’d put on his black briefs, which didn’t lessen the phenomenal view of him walking away. Not one bit. Jeesh. Even his hamstrings were delicious looking.

  I listened to him turn on the sink, obviously washing his hands, before sounds of plates clinking and drawers opening and closing poked me with another reminder.

  I should go. This was like what real couples did. You know, having sex on the living room floor, then eating snacks after they’d worked up an appetite. I should really go.

  But that would be rude. Right?

  No. Best to stay and be polite. I wrapped the throw tighter around me, not ready to trek into the kitchen half naked to retrieve my dress laid out on the kitchen island like a picnic blanket. Heat flared into my cheeks, thinking about that picnic.

  So I curled up in front of the fire, basking in the afterglow of dizzying, drugging sex with a Stygorn vampire, and waited for whatever he was cooking up for me. All the while, telling my silly, soft heart not to get attached.

  Easier said than done.

  Chapter 15

  ~DEVRAJ~

  * * *

  What the fuck was that?

  I filled the pavs with the dabeli stuffing while trying to pick up the pieces of my flayed emotions.

  I loved sex. I’d had numerous partners over the centuries. Numerous. So why had sex with Isadora undone me so completely? Why had this coupling with her shredded all my previous sexual experiences into what amounted to a waste of time?

  I felt adrift. Unmoored. Lost to any other purpose but the one that mattered. Her.

  A stirring of what I could only describe as panic—though I’d little experience with the emotion—filled my body. Why? Because she’d said this was a one-time hook-up, and my entire being was one-hundred percent against that ridiculous, asinine notion.

  This needed to be repeated. Often. Every day.

  I heated the dabelis on my griddle, placed them onto two plates, and then brought them into the living room.

  Isadora was curled up with the blanket over her, her delicate collarbone visible through the gap. I wanted to grin like a fiend. I’d been trying so hard to get this woman to open up to me, and she finally had. But what she’d been hiding was the tigress in the sheets. In the throes of sex, Isadora was a powerful goddess. And I’d gotten to witness that. To experience it firsthand. I felt privileged in some way, having gotten a glimpse of her completely uninhibited.

  “Here you go.” I set hers in front of her where she sat sideways by the fire then took a seat on the chaise lounge behind her. “I hope you like it.”

  She picked up one dabeli and took a bite, the blanket sliding down to her waist.

  I couldn’t even swallow with so much of her exposed, but I managed to somehow paste on a pleasant smile while watching her.

  She closed her eyes with pleasure and smiled while chewing. “Delicious,” she finally said and took another bite, some of the stuffing dribbling to the plate.

  Her eyes flicked up to mine while she ate then roamed my body before she focused on her plate. Again, I tried not to smile too triumphantly. She wasn’t as unaffected as she always pretended to be. Or maybe it was knowing what our bodies could do together that made that blush crawl up her neck. Either way, it wasn’t even eight o’clock, and I planned to keep her until my time was up. If she’d let me.

  Before she was finished, I ate the rest of mine and returned to the kitchen to grab two bottles of water. I took a seat on the chaise again and handed her one.

  “Thank you.”

  Back to shy Isadora, were we? Her eyes cast anywhere but on me. She took a long drink of water then set her empty plate on the coffee table. She stood with her blanket protectively around her shoulders and stepped over to the Celtic tree painting. I didn’t move. Just sat there and watched her take in the few treasures I kept close wherever I went.

  She stared at my sculpture of Shiva in the corner before walking on to the Crusader’s shield encased in glass on the wall.

  “Your art and artifacts are lovely.”

  She moved on to a painting I’d bought from an Egyptian. It was the least expensive but also my most prized possession.

  “Where is this?”

  “That’s in Varanasi, along the Ganges River. Varanasi is believed to be the home of Lord Shiva.”

  “Who is Lord Shiva?”

  I glanced at his statue in the corner of the room before answering her. “Shiva is known as the destroyer. Or the transformer. He is one of the most benevolent Gods in Hinduism. He showers his devotees with immense love. Forgiveness. And destroys those who do evil.”

  She must’ve noted the change in my voice. The tinge of regret. She peered over her shoulder, her long blond hair hanging in wild waves. Her eyes asked the question she wouldn’t voice, and for some reason I found myself wanting to tell her.

  “It’s the site of a pilgrimage in my homeland. It was the place where I traveled with my mother when I was turned into a vampire. A place I remained for many years.”

  The place where I lost my humanity for a time. A long time. And had to fight to win it back.

  “The painting makes you sad,” she said as a statement, not a question.

  “It does.”

  “Then why do you keep it?”

  I didn’t know how to explain it, but I did my best. “It keeps me whole. It reminds me of my mother. Of a simple, sweet time in my life.”

  Her brow pinched together as she stared at me with some tender emotion I couldn’t detect. But it swam in her beautiful eyes for some time until she cleared her throat and walked closer, eyeing the kitchen. “It’s getting late. I should—”

  “Don’t go,” I found myself spitting out quickly and moving in a flash to stand right before her. “Not yet,” I begged, cupping her face with both hands, brushing my thumbs over her high cheekbones.

  “I don’t know if—”

  I kissed her, angling her pretty face so I could do it thoroughly. I’d gotten too serious for her, I was sure, so I nipped her bottom lip then smiled. “You said you had until ten o’clock.”

  I kissed up her jaw. She tilted her head back, offering me her throat. She
obviously had no idea that in the vampire world, that was equivalent to full submission. For blood. For sex. I bit back a groan, knowing she had no idea what this meant. Even so, I pretended for one fleeting minute that she was mine, licking a line down her throat to the base where her pulse beat hard.

  “Stay with me,” I pleaded. “A little longer,” I clarified.

  Her breathing quickened and the blanket fell to the floor. That was all the answer I needed. Kissing her deeply, I lifted her into my arms. Her long legs wrapped around me automatically, which pulled a growl from deep in my chest.

  I settled onto the chaise lounge with her straddling me, her knees on the sofa. Without hesitation, I cupped one breast and sucked the tip of the other, teasing one nipple with my thumb, flicking the other with the stud in my tongue.

  Her hands were in my hair, holding my face to her breast. Yeah. Just like that, she opened up for me. The timid girl vanished as she ground along the length of my hard dick. I moved to her other breast, teasing her pink nipples into tight peaks. By the way she was rocking against me, chasing her climax, she was ready. Not to mention the heady scent of her in the air. It was enough to drive me mad.

  Wrapping a hand around her waist, I dipped her back. She sucked in a surprised breath.

  “Condom and oil,” I managed to grit out, my canines extending again.

  I’d have to feed soon, but right now there was only one thing I wanted. One woman.

  She reached down and snatched a condom and the small bottle of oil off the coffee table. She dropped the condom into my hand but poured the oil into her own palm and rubbed it between her hands before spreading her palms across my chest, down my abs, back up. Before I could register the intense sensuality of her small hands mapping my body, she leaned down and sucked my pierced nipple again. I thought I’d blow right there in my briefs.

  “Isadora,” I warned.

  She lifted her head and found my mouth, shoving my boxers down a few inches, grinding her pussy down onto me. The sensation of skin sliding against hot skin urged me to get her inside me. Now!

 

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