by Jackie Ivie
And why.
That was disconcerting.
Her skin was getting rosy. Looked warm. Alive. Her nipples recovered their color. His dick really liked watching that, too. Paul Henry shifted, lifting the leg closest to her as if blocking the sight helped.
“Undeath is not eternal life, Paul Henry. It’s a continual state of loneliness.”
“So?”
“Her name was Theresa. She was friendly. We got along well. I wanted a companion. She wanted to exist forever.”
“So, what happened? You two had a falling-out of some kind?”
“When you turn someone, they become your responsibility. And new vampires are so...very vulnerable.”
His interest instantly perked. “How so?”
“Vampirism can feel like the world is at your feet. You feel invincible. You don’t exercise...enough care.”
“With what? Finding the right blood type?”
She sobered with his attempt at levity. Gave him a look that gave him pause. Then spoke words that did worse.
“Hunters got her.”
He stilled. Regarded her silently for long moments. Listened to his heart beat. His lungs inhale and expel air. Finally blew out a sigh. “Well. That does explain your dislike of them.”
“Dislike is hardly the word. I was planning to wreak vengeance on all of them. Not stopping until the last one perished.”
“What changed your mind?”
She smiled. Her fangs were lengthening. They looked powerfully white. Sharp. That should scare the hell out of him. It didn’t. It elevated the temperature. Added a dimension of excitement. Thrill. He barely kept from lunging at her.
“Oh. Paul Henry.” Her voice was a whisper of sound. She swept a length of black hair over her shoulder. The room was deadly silent as they both held their breaths.
“Yes?” he finally responded.
“Who said I changed it?”
And then, she leapt at him.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Eska truly relished having a man in her power, especially an authoritative one. For centuries, it had been one of the only sources of satisfaction available to her. She was always on the prowl, frequenting popular nightspots. That’s where her prey congregated. She was drawn to the prime males. They weren’t hard to entice. Separate. She’d get him alone. Experiment...and enjoy.
But she was always in control.
Always.
But, now – with Paul Henry – everything was so much more vivid. So vital! Mating made such a difference! The experience that began the moment she’d touched him just kept expanding. It had been pleasurable to have him in chains, but freed and spread out before her, this was even more exciting. It had an edge of real danger.
At any moment, he could change it. And they both knew it.
He’d landed on his back. His head angled against the headboard, taking the brunt of the move. A thump reverberated through the wooden framework. Other than a slight grimace, he’d given little sign that it mattered. Eska crawled the last few inches along his side. The garter belts flexed against her thighs. Stockings shifted along her legs, silk sliding. Caressing. She wrapped a hand about the headboard, and used it to pull above him. Dark locks of her hair slid past her neck to touch her breasts, then fell to brush against him. He shuddered. Her limbs gave an answering tremor.
Oh!
This was absolutely thrilling!
“Did that hurt?” she finally queried.
He sucked in his cheeks. The barest smile lifted the sides of his mouth, gone almost the moment it appeared. Bass tones rumbled about them as he answered.
“Not enough, doll. Trust me.”
“Hmm.”
She purred it. Lowered her hand to base of his throat. Started drawing an imaginary line down from there. Toward his navel. Her fingers lifted and fell as she followed his abs. She moved her gaze to his. His eyes flared red again. Extremely bright. Heated. As if lit with an inner fire. An anticipatory tingle ran along her skin, lifting a rash of goose bumps.
“You like?” she offered.
“I’m not stopping you, am I?”
Her smile wasn’t as subtle as his had been. Nor was the growth of her fangs. He glanced there, and returned to matching her gaze.
“Watch the fangs,” he warned.
“You worry so.”
She retraced her path back up to his neck. Slid her thumb along his jaw. Felt the slightest prickle. That was interesting. His whiskers were a light brown shade. She hadn’t noticed he even grew facial hair, but she’d been around so few blondes...and rarely at this proximity.
Paul Henry trembled again. Reciprocity sent the tremor all the way through her. Eska had placed men in her power many times. And for the first time, it meant so very much! A hint of tears stung her eyes. She blinked them back. Only a few shuddered breaths betrayed her.
Oh, my!
Mating was a wonder beyond anything she’d imagined. Dreamt. Longed for...through centuries of emptiness. Being with Paul Henry erased every lonely moment from memory. The gift she’d received was beyond scope. There wasn’t any way to speak of it.
“It’s not worry. It’s keeping an eye out...for potential issues,” he finally remarked. “And it’s in my nature.”
“Semantics. You know what I meant.”
“Did I?”
“Why would I watch fangs, when I have so many other...”
She left the sentence unfinished. With incredible slowness, she slid one leg along his, bringing her knee up. She grazed his thighs. Muscles jumped at the contact. Her knee bumped against his arousal next. He jerked. Eska caught the motion by pushing him back to the bed with one hand. Her other gripped the headboard still, anchoring the move.
His eyes burned bright red. His jaw set. But he didn’t stop her. So she continued, leaning over him. Stretching her leg out, intent on reaching his far side.
“...fascinating things...”
She continued her sentence with another snippet of words, spoken with a tone that carried all manner of things: Excitement. Provocation. Stimulation.
His answer was a growl.
“...to watch.”
She straddled him, exactly as she had before. Much earlier. Down in the dungeon. When he’d been chained. Only this time, the pull to connect with him was forceful. She had to fight it. He was so close! So ready. Eska hovered above him, alternately dipping toward a coupling, and somehow pulling away. And then she started swaying. Back and forth, following a pulsating beat so real, it might as well be audible.
“Eska.”
The word matched his look. His upper lip was lifted, displaying his fang tips. As she watched, they lengthened. Grew sharp.
“Yes?”
She asked it in a nonchalant tone, completely at odds with the tumult just beneath the surface. She lowered her hips, purposely grazing his erection...and barely managed to pull back. She controlled the shake that accompanied her move, but nothing disguised her breathless state...because it matched his.
“I will not allow this...much farther.”
His hips bucked, barely missing her. It was such fun! And such torment!
“Eska?” His voice was gruff.
“Yes?”
“I do not like being teased.” He accompanied the command with a hip thrust that rocked the bed beneath them.
“So?”
This time his growl was lengthy. Loud. The sound reverberated through the chamber, rattling bric-a-brac. Snuffing out more candles. Dimming the available light.
“Oh, stop,” she replied.
“I am warning you.”
“But you’re not in charge,” she pointed out.
“I’m always...in charge.”
He grabbed her hips, and slammed her down onto him, filling her. Eska’s cry carried not only surprise, but complete pleasure. It rippled through her, expanding outward as he lifted her. Slammed her back down again. Lifted her again.
“Oh, Paul Henry! Oh, yes. Yes. Yes!”
He sto
pped. The lovely golden tanned color of his skin looked ruddier for some reason. The darker tone spread through his chest as she watched. His every muscle was pulled taut. And he was shaking the bedstead about them with the force of his shudders.
“You have the rhythm?” he asked.
“What?”
He pulled her down sharply, only to lift her again. Each move massaging heretofore undiscovered erogenous zones.
“Do you. Want. Control back?”
He separated the words with movements, repeating another series of thrusts. Withdrawals. This time he stopped with her centered atop him. Filled. Her senses reeling. Eska tried to continue, but he tightened his grip, holding her firm. She vibrated in place, caught up in desire so strong, it was a visceral need.
“Paul Henry!”
“I asked if you want control back.”
More harsh movements accompanied the words. More sensory pressure radiated from where they joined, the entire area pulsating with tension. Anticipation. Yearning. She panted the reply.
“Oh, yes. Yes!”
“Then take it.”
He opened his hands, releasing her. Eska grabbed his shoulders, and kicked, lifting her just enough to ram back down. She repeated it. Again. And again. The bed frame started rocking, creaking with an accompaniment of sound. It matched the rhythm in her head. She felt his hands again. Not at her waist. This time, he cupped her breasts. Used her for handholds. At first, helping her balance, but then ruining it with all manner of sensation. Her motions went larger. Her tempo faster.
“Oh, my...Paul Henry! Oh, my...”
The words became a litany of sound, filled with passion. Intensity. Strife. Eska kept moving. Alternately lifting. Plunging back down. Lifting again. Friction sent sparks. Fire-like tendrils replaced heat. An inferno built atop that. Fueled with a rising tide of harsh breaths. Cadenced thumping. Electrifying sparks.
The mattress became her base. Paul Henry, her center. A firestorm of beauty started up about her. Grew in intensity and depth.
“Oh, my! Paul Henry! Ah!”
Eska slammed down onto him. Gripped his hips with her thighs, to stop any motion. Hung onto his shoulders. Flung her head back. And gave vent to a cry that tore her throat. Shards of bliss pierced her. Uncontainable. Immense. Beyond imagining. For long seconds that felt eternal. And then the sound of racing heartbeats intruded. Softly at first, but they grew in volume, until that was all she heard. Tears slipped from her eyes. Ran her cheeks.
Oh, dear.
Eska’s hair was a tangled mass of darkness. Hiding her emotion, if she so desired. But it shouldn’t matter if he affected her so deeply. The man was her mate. The one. The only. She pulled in a bracing breath to look back down at him. Hair fell, curtaining her on both sides. Eska watched his expression as he saw. Considered. Her heart took a dive.
“Eska?”
His voice was soft. As was his touch as he swept a lock of hair off her cheek.
“Oh, Paul Henry. I lov—”
“Don’t say it,” he cut her off. “Don’t even think it.”
“But I—.”
“Seem to have trouble following orders.” His interruption was swift as he finished her sentence with one of his own.
Eska stilled. Regarded him for a long moment where nothing moved. Made sound. No candle even flickered. He broke the spell.
“You need a little reinstructing?”
His hands dropped from her breasts to her hips. He pressed fingers into her sides again.
“You can’t stop me forever,” she replied.
He looked away. Frowned. Tiny facial lines marred his skin. And then he tightened his hands. There was more power behind his actions than before as he lifted her. Brought her back. Added a thrusting motion that destroyed thought. A morass of heat sparked into being within her. And quickly became a torrent.
He stopped.
“We...good?”
He might be acting unaffected, but his voice didn’t match. The words were split between huffs for air.
She nodded.
“Excellent.”
He loosened his grip again, as if giving control back over to her. But a moment later, they spun. Entwined still. As one. The bed jounced with the landing. Shimmied. He pushed up. Eska’s arms flexed with his weight.
“I thought...I was in charge,” she remarked.
He grinned, baring fangs. Her heart thudded into her throat.
“Maybe later,” he replied, thrusting into her, as if for emphasis. Withdrawing. Thrusting again.
“You...didn’t like it?”
Fuses sputtered into life. It was hard to listen. Think. Answer. He blew a sigh that lifted hairs on her forehead.
“Oh, yeah. I liked it. Way too much.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You are an amazing woman, Eska. Truly. I’ve never felt—oh, shit. No. Wait.”
He stopped his own words. His thrusting. And everything else in the world. But he couldn’t stop a flood of warmth that rushed through her, sending joy. And awe.
Time stood still as he regarded something past her head, clearly avoiding any eye connection. His jaw was clenched. Fangs scraped flesh. She tried to ignore the pin-drop of blood that welled into existence on his chin, but it was difficult.
“I did not mean that the way it sounded.”
“Really? What did you mean, then?” Eska wasn’t smiling, but her voice gave her away.
He glanced down at her. Then away again. “Not what it sounded like.”
“What do you think it sounded like?”
He flushed. Eska almost laughed. A snort still escaped.
“Look. All I meant was...we have an all-nighter ahead of us.”
“That is not what it sounded like.”
“And I cannot manage it...if I allow you the top.”
The drop of blood started sliding down his skin. Trickled beneath his jaw. Eska forced her gaze away from it, back to his. Except he still wasn’t looking at her.
“Why not?” she asked.
He moved his head. Met her gaze. There was something wrong. His eyes were blue-shaded again, but hard to view. And they looked lifeless.
“This is a business transaction, Eska.”
“Of course it is,” she agreed.
He didn’t look as if he believed her. And it was very difficult to keep a straight face.
“Nothing else was implied. Before. During. Or after. Understood?”
“You are so young...and yet still so confident,” she remarked.
“Eska.”
“You are very used to getting your own way, aren’t you?” she asked.
He blinked several times before responding. “Are you listening to me?”
“Oh, yes. Closely.” She raised one eyebrow.
“We are in accord?”
“Of course, Paul Henry. Anything you say.”
She blew him an air kiss. He jerked. He didn’t move far. Her legs wrapped ever so slightly tighter about him. He touched his glance to hers again. His flush darkened more, bringing out the bluish shade of his eyes. They were alert again. Totally alive. Eska’s heart swelled. Oh! She was already in love with everything about him. His eye color was just one thing.
“Are you mocking me?” he asked.
“Oh. No. Perish the thought.”
She punctuated the words with a shimmy of her hips. A few lunges. He groaned. Arched his back. Tensed everywhere. Shook so much that the mattress bounced, while something snapped in the wooden frame.
“Damn it.”
The words were hissed. A moment later he grabbed her, and started hammering. The ferocity of each thrust rocked the bed. Wood groaned. Something fell. And he started shoving words at her, in time with the beat he’d orchestrated.
“I told you! It felt...too good. Damn! Damn! Damn!”
The mattress pitched sideways without warning. Eska barely noticed. A storm of ecstasy opened before her. She leapt in. Caught the sensation to her. Held it close. She was dee
p in the throes of it when he rolled them again, placing her back on top. But he didn’t let her control anything as he lifted her.
Slammed her back down.
Shoved her up.
Slammed her back.
Up.
Back down.
Over and over. Harder. Faster.
He alternately grunted. Cursed. Grunted. The room swung crazily. His outbursts increased in volume. Intensity. Depth. It was frightening. Massively exciting. The chamber joined in somehow, harmonizing with him. As if a shower of petrol had just been spewed on a raging bonfire, and they were in the center of it.
His movements went wild. Uncontrollable. Violent. And then he stilled. Arched backward. The mattress slid perilously. Eska didn’t notice. Her entire world was filled with Paul Henry. His groan strengthened until it became a yell. She clung to him as they rose, vibrating with the force of his bellow. They smacked into the chandelier. Rattled candles in their holders.
Paul Henry was still pulsing as his head moved. He opened his eyes. Stared at her. Eska didn’t know what his expression signified, but the possibilities sent her heart into palpitations. Her senses into a spin.
And why?
Because he didn’t just look satiated.
He looked stunned.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
This was incredible.
Impossible.
Completely unbelievable.
They’d ended somehow on the mattress, although it no longer rested on the bed platform. The footboard had split. Wooden chunks and splinters littered the floor. It wasn’t uncomfortable, however. Her mattress was large. Firm. Cushiony. Support wasn’t much of a comfort issue.
Eska was atop him. Her arms wrapped about his waist. Her head nestled on his shoulder. Tangled locks of her hair spread about them, as if attempting to entwine them together. It spilled over his sides, brushed his skin if he shifted at all. That wasn’t uncomfortable, either.
Her weight was a negligible factor...yet ponderously weighty at the same time. Their hearts no longer raced, but sent a steady march of thumps. They were still beating as one. Their breathing had calmed, too, and had the same cadence. It always matched, even when he experimented by holding a breath. Paul Henry lifted a lock of her hair before smoothing his hand down her back. His heart contracted almost painfully. He’d never felt anything like this.
