The Fool

by Liz Meldon

  Not to be deterred, the Fool straightened up and grabbed her forearm with lightning speed. Before she could protest, he’d yanked her back to her feet and whirled her around. Delia’s free hand shot out to grip the bedpost, her heart thumping heavily. Despite his forceful handling, the Fool was quite gentle when he pushed her hair over both shoulders, baring her exposed back and neck. She licked her lips, fingers pressed hard to the bedpost as his hands wandered over her skin, slowly making their way down to where the low back of her dress stopped.

  He eventually found the zipper along her side, though he seemed to enjoy the way she stiffened when he’d ran his hand over her pert behind, his soft chuckle dancing across her skin. Once the dress was open, letting her draw an exquisitely deep breath for the first time all night, she heard the Fool step back.

  “Take it off,” he ordered curtly.

  Smirking, she glanced over her shoulder, and then slowly inched the dress down her body. The cool outdoor air laved at her exposed flesh, wafting in from the open balcony doors. Soon enough, the green fabric was in a puddle at her feet, forgotten. Her ears perked at the noise the Fool made, but it was too low a sound to discern—it could have been a groan, a growl, a grunt.

  Whatever it was, she took it as a sound of approval.

  “Turn around.”

  His tone made her cheeks tinge with colour, colour that spread down to her neck and chest. Dominant but gentle, it encouraged the throb of need between her thighs. Delia turned on the spot, slowly, feeling his eyes on her as he stood a few feet away. Black lacy underwear gave her a shred of modesty at the front, though one touch and he’d know she was desperate for him. A barely-there hint of lace slipped between her cheeks at the back—panty lines were a party faux pas, especially in the dress she’d chosen.

  The Fool’s eyes swept across her body, leisurely, carefully, like he was absorbing a piece of art on display—and not quite getting it.

  “Ah,” he said lightly. “I was wondering if you’d be…”

  “Naked?”

  “Sans brassiere, I suppose,” he offered, his word choice making her lips twitch with amusement. “Your bare back was what first attracted me to you. An intrigue, certainly.”

  “It’s built in to the dress,” Delia admitted, and despite the plainness of the conversation topic, her body tingled with anticipation as he strolled toward her. “I could have worn those little individual cup things, but they’d look pretty stupid right about now. I mean, I’m not the first woman to figure out how to wear a backless dress—”

  She gasped when he wrapped an arm around her waist and lowered his head to her breast, mouth closing over her hardened nipple. Eyes clenched shut, she threaded her fingers through his thick hair. A jolt of pain shot through her when his teeth grazed her skin, and she tugged hard on his hair in response. His grip around her tightened, fingertips digging into her hips.

  Warmth coursed through her when he pulled back slightly to wander up her body with his mouth, leaving a sensuous trail of kisses, nips, and licks across her flesh. Her mouth opened, though no sound came out as he bit down gently on the crux of her shoulder and neck. Not hard enough to break skin, but hard enough to leave a mark.

  An embarrassing squeak slipped out when he picked her up and deposited her on the cushy mattress once more. He didn’t join her, and instead kneeled at the foot of the bed, encouraging her to him with nothing more than a slight nod of his head. Her cheeks flushed as he hooked a finger beneath her lacy underwear and dragged it down her legs, tossing it aside as he’d done with her shoes.

  There she was, totally naked with a stranger who wouldn’t even give her his name. Delia nibbled her lower lip, the audacity of the situation only just occurring to her.

  But she didn’t care. Not anymore. Her night had taken an unexpected turn, but a welcome one. She’d deluded herself into thinking she could take down the region’s most powerful vamp, and instead found herself splayed out before a ridiculously sexy man—and she wouldn’t have had it any other way.

  His kisses began at her ankle, slowly working his way up her leg, taking his time, revelling in the way she twitched and gasped and moaned. Sometimes he’d nip at her, just hard enough to hurt, and she’d shoot him a scowl as he grinned impishly. By the time he’d arrived at the place she most desperately wanted him to touch, her legs had been thrown over his shoulders, her ass at the edge of the mattress, her hands fisted in the bedding.

  While she’d hoped that he’d run his tongue along her slick folds or swirl it around her throbbing clit, he instead lingered along her thigh. Lips parted, he worshipped the skin there, and she flinched at the feel of his teeth. Whimpering, Delia grabbed at his hair again and tried to guide him to where she really wanted him, but he snatched her wrist and yanked it away, his eyes flashing almost dangerously.

  “Don’t make me tie you down,” he warned.

  Delia pursed her lips. In any other situation, she might have enjoyed a little light bondage, but not here, not now—not in a hotel full of vamps.

  Did the Fool know they were surrounded by bloodsuckers? Was he involved with them? It hadn’t even occurred to her that she should ask—he was just another party guest, his touch so warm, so human.

  Well, for a time it was warm, but now it was like fire, each stroke sparking something deep inside her, making her moan and arch her back.

  He rose slowly, her legs sliding off his shoulders, but before she could protest, the Fool slipped two fingers into her—unhurriedly, teasingly, filling her in a way that she knew was only temporarily satisfying. They slid into her wet entrance unhindered, her body so incredibly aroused that the simplest touch sent spasms of pleasure shooting across her core. Her breath hitched in her throat, eyes rolling back when he curled his fingers over that sacred little pleasure spot along her inner walls, coaxing her to climb higher and higher toward bliss.

  “Is this what you want?” he whispered, and she bit back a cry when his palm settled over her clit, slowly massaging the sensitive little bud. “Would you rather I used my mouth?”

  “I don’t really c-care at this point, honestly,” she said, the words tumbling out without a thought, her brain addled with delight.

  The Fool chuckled, stroking her harder, faster. Her back arched up to meet his mouth, tongue swirling over the breast he’d left untouched earlier, and she almost fisted her hand in his hair again, but thought better of it. Instead, she dropped it to his shoulder, grasping it as he brought her to the brink of a delicious climax.

  “Open your eyes.”

  The order came shortly before she did, and Delia complied, difficult as it was, as pleasure coursed through her. She clenched around his fingers, briefly wondering what it might feel like to have his cock in their place, then let out a breathy whimper when their eyes met. For the first time he seemed a little unhinged, the strain noticeable in his face and neck. His fingers pumped in and out as her hips bucked against his hand, drawing out the wonderful sensations for as long as she possibly could.

  As the intensity faded, her limbs slowly relaxing, Delia shifted onto her side and went for his belt buckle. Never had she been accused of being a selfish lover, and she wasn’t about to earn the title now. After all, she enjoyed giving almost as much as she enjoyed receiving, but before she could even get the belt undone, the Fool withdrew, sliding off the bed. His hands clasped behind him as she sat up, and he threw his shoulders back, looking down at her over the tip of his nose.

  “Did I do something wrong?” she asked, the sting of his refusal making her stomach knot.

  His jaw clenched firmly, but no matter how disinterested the rest of him may have appeared, his eyes blazed with lust—of that much she was certain.

  “This is a dangerous game to play, Delia,” the Fool told her, his voice thick and low. Strained. Like his throat was tight.

  She pushed off the bed, rising to her feet with the same slowness that she’d taken to peel off her dress. “I don’t mind a little danger.”

&nb
sp; She reached for him, and this time he stepped back. The roles had been reversed: the deer stalked the wolf now, and the idea thrilled her. Delia had him backed up to the wall beside the ornate writing desk, a smirk on her lips, but when she went for him again, her hand going for the belt, the Fool caught her and yanked her forward. He turned at the last possible second, pressing her hard against the wall, pinning her there. The room fell silent except for her soft, short breaths.

  “Are you sure about that?” he asked.

  An eyebrow arched as a shiver of excitement ran down her body. “If I’m not into it, I think you’ll know,” she told him.

  Catching her lower lip between her teeth, Delia tipped her head up, bringing their mouths closer together. So close she could feel the hum of his being tickling the nerve endings in her lips. The Fool, meanwhile, continued to watch her, but this time he didn’t move away when she touched him. Her hands roamed his chest, enjoying the dips and grooves of his muscular core.

  She wasn’t sure who kissed who in the end, but soon enough his lips were slanted over hers, a ferocity behind them that she’d yet to experience. Pleased with the turn of events, Delia wrapped her arms around his neck and dragged him closer, her mouth opening. Teeth gnashing. Tongue swirling. It was like he was trying to swallow her whole—and she loved every second of it.

  She soon caught the sound of him opening his belt buckle, undoing his zipper. Delia moaned with anticipation, but the sound was lost between them, his kiss growing more feverish, more frenzied.

  Delia broke away fleetingly, knowing that if she didn’t, she might do something stupid—like let an almost complete stranger fuck her without protection.

  “Condom?” Her breathy whisper seemed to fill the room.

  The Fool cleared his throat. “I usually don’t—”

  A coldness washed over her suddenly, her cheeks prickling with embarrassment. “Do you not have one?”

  Licking his lips, the Fool reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, from which he produced a condom. The sigh of relief she gave could have easily been mistaken for a groan, and his fingers fumbled, just a little, as he ripped the packet open. Delia would have preferred to roll it on herself, knowing that she could make a man feel so good for taking precautions, but he caught her in a kiss before she could ask. It was a biting kiss, almost punishing, and she shrank back against the wall, a hot flush of want shooting through her again. She whimpered, both hands cupping his face, pulling him impossibly close, desperate for the contact, for him.

  But before she could reach down to stroke him, eager to get a proper feel of the sizeable cock that had pressed against her, the Fool lifted her leg, his hand beneath her knee, and pushed into her slick, tight entrance. She broke the kiss and sucked in a sharp breath as he moved, slowly filling her as her body stretched to accommodate him.

  Definitely bigger than two fingers. Definitely.

  She tilted her head back to rest against the wall, moaning when their hips finally collided. Swallowing hard, Delia slowly opened her eyes and found him watching her, though the Fool’s eyes seemed heavy-lidded, overwrought with desire, with need. Their colour no longer seemed off-putting. The intensity had stopped bothering her at some point, and now Delia wasn’t sure how she’d go on existing without those bright blues watching her.

  A part of her was disappointed; she wanted to moan his name, to whisper it in his ear while he fucked her, but she wasn’t about to say Fool out loud. Not happening.

  He leaned in and rested his forehead against hers, gently, like he was taking care not to put too much weight on her. She worked hard to steady her breathing, moving her hips ever so slightly, desperate for the friction.

  “You’re a curious thing,” he murmured, brushing his lips against her as he grabbed her other leg and lifted it. Delia wrapped them both behind his back, ankles locked. This had never been a favourite position of hers because she felt like her partners couldn’t hold her for long, that she was too heavy. In the past, she’d always concentrated more on staying upright than enjoying the moment, but this was different. The Fool showed no signs of struggle, no hint that she might be too much to prop up. He shook a little, trembled in her arms, but it wasn’t because she was too heavy.

  “That’s a weird thing to say to a woman,” Delia gasped out as she tried to nudge his hips with her feet. The Fool stayed steady, however, like a stone statue, impossible for her to move. “I see the faux-formal crap extends beyond the initial flirting…”

  Her words vanished at the tip of her tongue when he bucked against her, then began to move slowly but soundly, taking her at a steady pace, giving her just a taste of what she wanted. Each thrust all but rattled her teeth, a combination of slight pain and heady pleasure giving her the chance to lose herself in him.

  “Please,” she whispered, stealing kiss after kiss, her hands cupping his face. “Please… Harder. Faster. More.”

  At her request, the Fool quickened his pace, though he still enjoyed fucking her roughly, steadily, working her faster and faster to the crest of yet another orgasm. She inhaled sharply when it pulsed through her, more subdued than the first but no less enjoyable. The Fool groaned, burying his face against her neck as her body tightened, the slick channels of her sex clenching around him.

  “God,” she breathed. “Oh my god.”

  Wordlessly, the Fool pushed away from the wall, carrying her with him, but she didn’t mind. In fact, her body would have sagged right to the floor if he hadn’t been holding her, limbs languid, relaxed, in the aftermath of her second climax. It wasn’t until the cool breeze tickled her back that she realized he was taking her onto the balcony, and she started to struggle in his arms.

  “Wait, wait, no,” she hissed, pushing against his shoulders, but to no avail. “Don’t… I’m…”

  Naked. Totally nude—with her legs wrapped around a fully clothed man whose cock was buried deep inside her. Not exactly how she wanted other hotel guests to see her.

  “Live a little, Delia,” the Fool said chuckling, totally oblivious to the way she tried to wriggle out of his grasp. Instead of seating her on the thick stone railing, the Fool lowered her so that her feet could touch the ground, easing himself out of her as he did. Pleasure still pulsed through her with the slightest movement, but she was determined not to expose herself to the rest of the hotel guests, even if the only light came from the fairy lights in the garden and the stars in the clear sky. Before, the lamp on the bedside table had guided them, but it was useless on the balcony.

  He caught her before she could slip away and trapped her against the railing. She tried to shove back, but the Fool merely grabbed her hips and turned her around, half-bending her over the railing.

  “Nope, this isn’t a thing that’s happening,” she snapped, struggling to get away. The Fool grumbled under his breath, and moments later she felt tiny buttons bounce off her back; he’d ripped his shirt open, and while she was still awkward about flashing everyone in a fifty-yard radius, she half-wanted to glance back and sneak a peek at those undoubtedly glorious abs.

  “Here,” he said, wrapping the shirt around her to give her some modicum of modesty. Delia slipped her arms through the sleeves, still feeling his warmth on the material, and wore the black dress shirt backwards so that she was completely covered. “Better?”

  “I’m sorry I’m not the kind of girl who parades around naked in public,” she quipped as she glared over her shoulder.

  Smirking, the Fool leaned in and kissed her cheek sweetly. “My apologies.”

  Delia huffed as he pressed more soft kisses to her skin, slowly drifting down her neck and igniting the fire in her belly again. She gripped the stone railing, noting that the Fool’s mask had fallen to the floor nearby, and then whimpered when he pushed himself back into her. His hand drifted lower, spreading her legs as she adjusted to the intrusion again. Just as before, he started off slowly, each thrust pointed and sharp, but leisurely, like he was truly enjoying being buried between
her thighs.

  And just as before, his pace soon quickened, becoming frenzied and needy like his kisses. Although she’d initially worried about being naked, Delia paid no attention to the way his shirt slid down her arms, exposing her anyway. She was too wrapped up in him to care. One arm cut across her body to support her, nestled between her breasts, his hand gripping her shoulder, and she winced as her hip bones ground against the railing.

  “Tell me,” the Fool whispered, his breath hot in her ear, “what do you see down there?”

  With some difficulty, she focused her attention on the garden as he continued to fuck her with that same relentless pace.

  “Little lights,” was her immediate response. Being ravished four floors up, it was hard to make sense of much.

  “What else?” he growled, his thrusts becoming sharper, harsher, his hand wandering between her thighs to rub her clit. Delia bit back a whimper, though she was sure she felt the beginnings of a third climax stirring from deep within.

  “Trees.” She swallowed thickly. “Stars. The h-hedge maze.”

  “And the couple screwing in it?” the Fool asked, his tone almost as unforgiving as his fucking. “What about the trio by the bar?”

  Delia frowned, trying to see what he saw, but could only make out vague dark shapes.

  “Or the pair in the ravine, with the man fucking the woman from behind, against the oak tree. Much like this. Like us. Tell me, little huntress, what do you actually see?”

  “W-what did you just…?” She knew what he’d said. She’d heard the word, but her brain couldn’t make sense of it—not with the way he rubbed her clit, the glorious build of another orgasm demanding more of her attention. Delia shook her head, her breath coming faster now. “W-what—”

  “Nothing,” the Fool hissed as he gripped her by the chin. “The answer is nothing. You see nothing.”

  Delia cried out, her eyes widening as her third climax took hold in tandem with the Fool sinking his teeth into her neck. It was no love bite, no nip to leave a mark for tomorrow. Blood spilled down her neck, though she barely felt the sting of the bite, her senses far too overwhelmed to notice the pain. It mingled with her pleasure and she brought a trembling hand back to touch him. His face felt hard, no longer soft and pliant as it had once been during her cautious exploration. He let her explore again, and she let out a strangled groan as her fingertip touched his lips, his teeth, which were sunk deep in her neck.