Solange nodded and locked eyes with him.
Crispin rocked his hips, pressing himself against her, poised at her opening, ready to claim her for his own.
Solange didn’t speak as she felt his heavy cock, thick and hard, sitting against her wet flesh. He was lined up and ready to push inside her.
“I’m ready,” she whispered, just barely shifting her hips to hold him against her.
He twisted his upper body to be able to reach one of her breasts, sucking her nipple into his mouth. He flicked his tongue against it, just slightly dragging his teeth across the nipple as it slipped through them.
Solange moaned and pressed herself against him, causing the tip of his cock to just barely press against her, beginning to breach the opening of her untouched flesh.
Crispin lifted his body on his knees, while keeping himself pressed against Solange. He needed to be buried inside her so badly it actually caused him pain. He adjusted his position until he had enough traction to be able to fuck her as hard and fast as his body demanded. He was balanced on his knees, and the balls of his feet and toes as they pressed into the mattress beneath Solange. His hands were placed on either side of her head before he angled his hips, then used his right hand to take himself in hand and guide his already pulsing cock into her body. Once he’d secured the head of his cock inside her, he let go to hold himself just above her, and pressed himself further inside her, being thoughtful enough to give her time to adjust to him invading her body.
Her breath caught as he slid his shaft inside her. She was no fool, she knew it would hurt, and knew according to her books, there was supposed to be pleasure right after the pain. But she also knew everything she thought was supposed to happen she learned from romance stories. So, she fully expected it to be a complete letdown. She’d also heard some women just went through the motions because it was little more than exercise to them. She hoped, oh she hoped, she wasn’t going to be one of them. She wanted to actually enjoy sex. She wanted to be able to lose herself in it, find the release, the orgasm, she’d read so much about.
Solange knew herself well enough to know that a well behaved lover wasn’t going to even begin to get her there. She had enough intuition to know she needed her sex like she needed her life — fast, dangerous, and fully committed — the act itself anyway. It would be all or nothing. She looked up at Crispin. “I want it all. Show me why I should only give this to you. Show me why I shouldn’t take as many lovers as I choose, Crispy,” she taunted.
Crispin looked down at Solange with a snarl and thrust his hips home before pulling his hips back and slamming into her again. He was long. He was hard, and he was thick. He forced all he had inside her over and over again, growling fiercely. “You will have no other than me!” he demanded as her screams filled his ears.
He drew back his hips and forced himself into her again and again, without even a pause or hesitation until his strokes became frenzied and he had only one single thought. ‘Mine! She’s mine.’
Solange baited Crispin into giving her everything he had. All his passions, all his strength, all his expertise, all his power and all his dominance pounded into her at once. In retrospect, it most likely wasn’t the best idea, but now that the initial pain was over and his hips had fallen into a forceful rhythm, she began to feel little tingles as he hit certain secret places inside her. Her instinct was to raise her hips to meet his each time she felt a shiver race through her body, so she did. And the pleasure she felt was something she rejoiced over. She began to experiment, moving her body to accept him at certain angles, until finally adjusting her grip on him to be able to swing her hips up to meet his as forcefully as he hammered into her.
Crispin felt her begin to move with him, almost fighting him with every stroke. He loved it. Of course she wouldn’t just give in and allow him to take her, she’d take him right back. He looked down at her, a snarl on his lips with every stroke. “You are mine. You allow any other male to touch you like this, I’ll hunt him down,” he growled.
The fact that he claimed her aloud, sent adrenalin rushing through her system. She lifted up just enough to slap her hand onto his ass, grabbing a handful. “This is mine. You share it with anyone but me, and I’ll hunt YOU down. Do you understand ME?” she snarled back at him.
Crispin smiled, his fangs on full display. “Clearly,” he answered, getting up on his knees and using his hands on her knees to force her legs to spread further apart for him before ramming his cock into her again until she began to scream, and her whole body appeared to convulse as he fucked her like he’d not even known it was possible to fuck.
As she came, her channel clamping down on his cock as it milked his own orgasm from his body, he let himself fall forward, pressing his face into her neck and nibbling there.
“No! Don’t bite me!” she panted desperately.
“I’m not. I’m not, not until you ask me,” Crispin promised, changing to kissing her neck and sucking the sensitive skin there into his mouth.
“This body is mine!” he growled as he allowed her skin to slide past his teeth without even a scratch. Then he lifted up off her body and pulled himself out of her before he flipped her over without warning.
“What…” she squawked out, before she suddenly couldn’t talk anymore. He was behind her and had forced his still rock hard cock back into her as deep as she could take him, his first release allowing him to slip easily back inside her tight channel. He took her so hard and so fast she could barely breathe. Then he reached a hand around her hips and stroked a fingertip up and down her clit until she came on his cock again, screaming and trembling, as he rode her through it.
He was like a wild animal, a beast unable to turn away from the call of his mate, and he fucked her until somewhere in his sex-fogged brain he realized she was begging him to stop.
“One more,” he whispered in her ear as he leaned over her back and braced himself with his hands before he concentrated on his hips, his pelvis slapping against her ass as his balls drew up tight against his body. “Oh, fuck, yes!” he garbled out before taking hold of her hips and yanking her against him as he buried himself inside her, holding perfectly still as his cock pulsed deep in her body, marking her for all eternity as his female.
They both gasped for breath, having pushed themselves to the point of exhaustion. Crispin held himself above her, his eyes closed as he soaked in all the emotions flowing through himself, allowing just a small portion of his body weight to lie against Solange’s back. Finally he opened his eyes, and looked down at her. He pressed a kiss to the back of her shoulder, then wrapping an arm around her from behind, he rolled to his side, taking her with him as he flopped onto his back. Both their chests heaved as she allowed him to turn her and hold her against his side.
As they calmed she made herself more comfortable, resting her head on his chest, her face tilted up so he could see her. With a lazy, satisfied smile, she opened her eyes to see him smugly grinning at her.
He lifted a finger, tracing her smile with its tip. “What are you smiling about?” he asked.
“Honestly?” Solange asked.
“Always, nothing but,” he answered.
“I’m just so damn glad I’m one of those women who can actually have an orgasm.”
Crispin burst out laughing, and Solange joined in.
After the laughter died down, Solange asked the same question. “What’s your smile for?” she asked.
Crispin looked into Solange’s eyes, he brushed her cheekbone with his thumb as he held her face gently in his hands. “I’m just so fucking proud that no one has ever, nor will ever, touch you but me.”
Solange raised an eyebrow. “And why would you think that?” she asked.
“I’m not new at this, lovely. I knew the minute I pushed all the way inside you, and it was confirmed when I pulled out to turn you over, and saw the blood on my cock.”
Solange glanced down to keep from looking in his eyes.
“Why didn’t you
tell me? I’d have been more careful with you the first time,” Crispin asked. ‘I wouldn’t have allowed myself to get so out of control. By the time I first pushed inside you I was so far gone there was no chance of control. But if I’d known in advance…” he said, leaving the rest of the sentence unspoken, knowing she understood what he was trying to say.
“I didn’t want careful. Don’t want controlled. Don’t deserve careful,” she whispered.
Crispin moved quickly, placing his hand on her shoulder to roll her onto her back so he could look down at her. “What does that mean?” he asked, clearly bothered by her remark.
“Just what it sounds like. I’m a killer, trained for one purpose since the time I was able to walk. Care and tenderness don’t mean a thing to me,” Solange answered.
“Bullshit,” he insisted.
Her eyes snapped to his.
“I mean it. Bullshit. You saved the girl, you took her to receive treatment. You went back after the dog. You hunt Alastair to stop him from slaughtering the innocent. Caring, gentleness, tenderness, they come naturally to you just as the fierceness you wear as an armor does.”
Solange just stared into his eyes. She didn't like that he could see things about herself that she’d hidden away from everyone.
“Are you not going to answer me?”
Solange shook her head. “No. I don’t want to talk about this.”
Crispin looked deep into her eyes. He could feel her growing more and more uncomfortable with their conversation.
“Alright. I’ll leave it. But, instead, perhaps you’ll tell me what kind of slayer you are that you come equipped with your own set of fangs,” Crispin said, daring her to deny it.
Solange shifted beneath him, trying to move him off her. “I don’t have fangs.”
“Really? Then I suppose the pointed teeth I felt were my imagination.”
“Must have been,” she said, putting a little more force behind her shove and moving him off her.
“Solange… why are you afraid to tell me the truth? I’ve hidden nothing from you.”
Solange moved until she sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at her carpet while he spoke from behind her.
“I let you into my world, Crispy. Can’t that just be enough for now?” she pleaded.
“Do you still not trust me?” he asked.
“I trust you more than most. You’re here,” she said, looking around her bedroom. “You’re in my home. You know my name. I… we… you know,” she said, exasperatedly. “I don’t want to talk about the rest, Crispy,” she finally said.
“When then?” Crispin asked.
“Never. It’s not necessary.”
He was smart enough to know not to push her any further than she was willing to go. “Fine. I’ll let you have your secrets, but one day, I’ll ask again. I want to know all of you, Solange,” he said, stroking her back seductively.
“My secrets will destroy everything in my life. Do you want to be party to that?” she asked.
“I will always stand beside you. Nothing will destroy you,” he promised passionately.
“It’s sweet that you think that.”
“I know that,” he snapped, growing irritated.
“How about we change the subject before the entire night is ruined?” Solange asked.
“Fine. What subject do you prefer?” he asked.
“How about the fact that the dawn is not that far away and you’re still here, in my home that’s lined with windows?”
Crispin glanced down the hallway, noticing for the first time the slight red-orange glow beginning to reflect off the white walls and carry down the hallway.
“Do you have somewhere nearby to shelter?” Solange asked.
“No. But I’ll find somewhere.”
Solange shook her head looking at the burgeoning dawn reflecting down the hallway. “No, perhaps you should stay here. There are no windows in this room. You’ll be safe here. There’s a bathroom through that door if you need it. It doesn’t have windows either.”
Crispin nodded. “I’d like to stay with you.”
Solange finally turned to face him. “Then do. I’ve got things to do today. But you’re welcome to stay here. Rest, shelter here. Just don’t go down the hallway and you’ll be fine.”
“Where will you be?”
“Here at first. Then I’ll have to go out for a little while, but I won’t be long.”
Crispin scowled. “Will you wait for this evening and we can go out together?”
“I have a job to do, Crispy. The fact that I’ve allowed you into the outer reaches of my life does not change what I have to do, nor who I am.”
“Solange…” he said.
“Crispin. I’m going to lie down right here in this bed and get a little rest before I have to get up. I’ve invited you to stay and shelter here. You can lie here with me and enjoy it, or you can really piss me off and make sure I kick you out. I’d rather not have to find you all crispy, Crispy.”
Crispin shook his head at her remarks, then reached out, took her by the shoulders and pulled her flat on her back. “You will learn to trust me in time,” he said, kissing her.
“You will learn to respect my boundaries in time,” she responded.
“I doubt it,” he answered.
“Me, too,” she snapped, rolling back toward the edge of the bed and presenting her back to him.
Crispin settled in behind her, smiling to himself. She may be holding back secrets, but she trusted him. She’d invited him to shelter in her home. She’d turned her back to him to rest, and whether she admitted it or not, everything she’d done since he’d tapped on her window, including letting him in, was a sign of trust. She trusted him. And eventually that trust would grow and she’d share her secrets with him.
Crispin snuggled her from behind, looping an arm over her stomach and up over her chest to her shoulder to hold her tight.
Solange pressed a kiss to the back of his hand as it curled around her shoulder.
“Don’t bite me,” he warned teasingly.
“I don’t have fangs,” she snapped, grabbing her pillow and pulling away from him.
Crispin laughed as she tried to move away from him and he pulled her back to his chest.
“Rest, Solange. Give me this little bit of time until you must rise and work.”
She didn’t answer, but she settled down in his arms and closed her eyes, enjoying him being this close, knowing she’d not be able to have it for long. She thought over their conversations since she’d let him in. She thought about the way he touched her, the way she touched him; she was going to miss this so much. It would hurt like hell to let him go when the time came. She smiled to herself when she thought of his face, pressed up against her window, tapping incessantly to get her attention. Then her smile dropped when she remembered his exact words. ‘He was hunting.’
“Crispy?” Solange asked.
“Hmm?” came his sleepy reply.
“You said you were hunting… is Alastair here?” she asked.
“Pretty sure he is. But we can’t go after him now — sun’s up. We’ll hunt tonight.”
Chapter 15
Solange slipped out of bed so as not to wake Crispin. Quietly she gathered her clothes, her boots, and took her phone off her bedside table. She opened the bedroom door and silently let herself out of the room, pulling the door closed behind her. She smiled when Mr. Scruffikins greeted her, bouncing in circles at her feet as she walked down the hallway.
“Good morning,” she said, bending down to pat his head. “You hungry? I am, I’m starved. Or would you rather go outside?” He followed her into the kitchen where she put fresh water in his bowl and refilled his food bowl. Mr. Scruffikins drank his fill of water then ran over to the side door that allowed people to go out onto the terrace without opening the floor to ceiling windows. Solange followed him and opened the door for him, making a mental note that she needed to have a doggy door installed so he could come and go as h
e pleased. She watched as he ran around her pool yipping and barking at the birds that gathered there in the mornings, before finally making his way over to the small grassy area to relieve himself.
Solange gathered the ingredients to make her favorite seafood burritos. She had always, even when she was a little girl, preferred regular lunchtime and dinnertime foods for breakfast. She rarely ate eggs and toast first thing in the morning, but strangely enough loved breakfast for dinner. She battered and fried the shrimp, oysters, and scallops she kept in her refrigerator whenever she was going to be home for more than just a day or two. When they were done, she warmed two tortillas and layered them with the seafood and fried potatoes, tartar sauce and cocktail sauce and wrapped it up. She plated one for herself and one for Crispin. Seafood fried so quickly it really took no time at all, so it was only minutes before she was seated in front of her television, flipping channels as she looked for the morning news as she reached for her phone to check messages.
Her hand stopped pressing the channel changing button when the Eyewitness Morning News was live on her television, on scene with several ambulances and at least a dozen police cars. The flashing lights continued as she listened to the reporter give whatever little information he had. Four girls, three dead, one missing overnight in their off-campus apartment near the University. The names were being withheld pending notification of the families.
Her blood ran cold. She knew. She didn’t know how she knew, but she knew without a doubt, Alastair was responsible for this.
Her phone began to vibrate, taking her attention from the newscast. Solange looked down at it, swiped the screen to accept the call when she saw the name of her incoming caller.
“Do you see this?” she asked, still looking at the TV.
“Yes,” Gillian answered.
“It’s him, isn’t it?”
“We think it is. We think he’s back, Solange. That’s why I’m calling. To let you know in case you didn’t already, to ask if you have any idea of where to start, and to give you first shot at the assignment. We received no intel to let us know he’d returned to New Orleans. We have eyes and ears scattered about the city all the time, but no one reported him or word about him coming back,” Gillian said.
Blessed Curse Page 13
