Kane’s eyes glittered for a moment, and then her jaw tightened, and she nodded, only once, as she bent her face toward me. Kane traced her hands down my back, then, down over my hips, my ass, and to my thighs. She wrapped her fingers tightly around my thighs, and she lifted. One smooth motion up, lifting me like I was practically weightless (vampires, I was beginning to understand, were really strong), and I was straddling her, my center pressing tightly against her hips, my legs tightly wrapped around her waist, my arms around her neck and shoulders.
“Please,” she whispered then, her voice husky, broken, as she held my gaze. “I need to touch you.” Her fingers stroked the backs of my thighs as she held me there against her.
“Yes,” I told her, a syllable spoken by my entire body as she carried me into the room, to the big, four-poster bed in the very center of it. “Yes,” I repeated as she bent forward, as she lay me down softly, gently, on top of the plush, night-black duvet. “Yes,” I whispered into the half-light as Kane stood over me then, peeling off the suspenders from her shoulders as she stared down at me with hooded eyes. Yes, she was actually wearing black suspenders, an exquisite detail I would never forget. The suspenders slipped from her fingers and fell, still attached to her suit pants but now dangling around her thighs.
Kane knelt down onto the bed then, crouching there between my legs as she placed one hand on either side of my waist as I reached up for her. And I did that which I’d always wanted to do: I took her ponytail holder, a thin elastic band, and I pulled it out.
It was surreal and lovely, how her white-gold mane fell around the both of us. She had such long white-blonde hair that it seemed to drape around the both of us, obscuring everything but her and me in that moment. I reached up, and I ran my fingers through thin, satiny strands, and I felt the coolness of her hair against my palms as I arched beneath her, drawing her down to me. And Kane descended, descended like a fallen angel, to capture my mouth with hers.
I was wearing a knee-length skirt and blouse, but because it was a remarkably warm day, I hadn’t felt the need to wear tights or leggings with the skirt. So when Kane slid her cold, soft hands up my right calf, I gasped against her. She was so chill to the touch, and touching me didn’t warm her skin at all. But it was perfect, how her wintry skin felt against the heat of my own; teasing, how chill her palm felt as she traced her long fingers up to the curve of my knee, to the soft skin behind my knee, and then down, down to my thigh as she placed her hand full against me, drawing a gasp of pleasure from me as I arched beneath her, desperate for my center to, once more, feel that connection to her.
Kane stared down into my eyes as I reached up to wrap my arms around her neck again. I drew her down to me, pulled her to me like a ship drawing in its anchor, and when her mouth connected with mine, I finally understood how cold can be hot.
Because Kane’s mouth was searingly chill against my skin, her tongue cold against my tongue—but she was so cold that it seemed that her body had looped back around to hot again, as she pressed her palm against my stomach, having inched up the hem of my shirt from the waistband of my skirt. She raked her short nails across my skin, and I hissed out against her, my eyes rolling back, my head and neck arching as I lifted my chest to her, asking with my body.
And she answered.
Kane tugged up my shirt all the way, until she pulled it off of me, over my head and tossed it aside, and then Kane’s fingers were at the edge of my right bra cup and the lace there, tracing a finger over the soft lace for half a moment while she watched her fingers against the cloth and my skin, her eyes dark and feverish with something I felt just as fiercely. I ached for more than this, and she seemed to know it, knowing not to tease me, because she couldn’t bear the tease either as she pulled my bra cup down to expose my breast to the cool air, and her cooler mouth.
“Ah,” I whispered, biting my lip—hard—as she bit my nipple. It’s as if she’d been chewing peppermint gum, or had just eaten an ice cube, her mouth was that cold, and instantly both of my nipples were peaked, one in her mouth, aching from her attentions, and the other straining and aching against my other bra cup. But, as she kissed my right breast, she pulled down the other cup and flicked her thumbnail against my hard nipple, eliciting another gasp from me.
My bra straps were pulled down my shoulders then, falling around my arms, as she bent over me, her soft, white-gold hair trailing over my skin, making me shiver against her. Kane moved, only a little, and then her right knee was at my center, while she continued to tease and lick and nip my breasts, pinching my nipples with her fingers, biting down with just enough pressure that it hurt just right, just right to be so pleasurable that my eyes were rolling back in my head as I arched up beneath her, seeking some sort of release.
And I found it when her knee moved against my center. I still wore my panties, she still wore her pants, but the friction felt so good. Not enough, never enough, but a start, and I gripped her hips so tightly with my hands, grinding down on her leg, that I was panting as she remained above me, her mouth cool against my heart.
When Kane rose above me again, raking her fingers through her hair so that it settled around her shoulders, I looked up at her, breathing out into the half-light as I paused. She’d…changed.
Her irises, if they had been dark before…they were fully black now. And her incisors were…well, pointy.
“Kane?” I whispered, still panting as I reached up, undoing the bottom few buttons of her shirt. I slipped my fingers against her muscled belly, and I traced my fingers over those muscles uncertainly. “Are you…are you okay?” I asked her, biting my lip as I stared up at her, watching her.
“Yes,” she whispered, and she crouched over me, her brow furrowing. “I’m sorry…” She closed her mouth and ran her tongue over her front teeth. “This is what happens when we’re…aroused.” She licked her lips, her jaw tightening. “Do I frighten you?” she asked me, her voice low and longing…and sad. She opened her mouth to breathe out, and her sharp incisors glittered in the low light.
“No,” I whispered, before she’d even been able to complete the question. Yes, Kane was a vampire—but there was nothing about her that I didn’t trust, that I wasn’t enthralled with, that I didn’t feel connected to with every part of my body and heart. It’s hard to put into words even now, even after all these years, as I consider that moment and my reaction to that question. It’s as if she’d asked me if I could breathe water. No. Of course not. Of course she didn’t frighten me. Everything that I was, every cell and atom and quark inside of me was drawn to her. I knew her, knew her heart, and I didn’t know how I knew. But I did.
And I knew that she loved me. Even then, I knew.
And I loved her, too.
“No,” I repeated, shaking my head as I wrapped my arms around her neck, drawing her down to me. She stared down at me with dark eyes as I held her gaze, as I brushed a stray strand of white-blonde hair behind her ear, staring up at her beauty, at her face that I’d dreamed of, every night since coming to the Sullivan Hotel. Her face that I somehow, impossibly, remembered. “You don’t frighten me.” I licked my lips, too, and then I arched my head back against the duvet, exposing my bare neck to her…asking for a kiss.
And she bent her graceful head down to me, placing her full lips against the skin of my throat. And she kissed me there, one soft, cold kiss, and she kissed me again, her mouth open, her tongue laving my skin. She kissed me again, and she bit me, but very softly, her sharp incisors brushing against me with great gentleness, her fingers tender now, as she gripped me tightly, then less tender, fiercer, her fingers, even with their short nails, sharp against my skin.
I pressed against her thigh, and I bucked my hips, panting out against her. Her breath was cold on my skin as she breathed out, placing one last, gentle kiss against the thrumming vein in my neck. And she rose, glancing up at me again, her dark eyes flickering.
Kane was straddling me, arching over me, as she traced a line down the front of my
body, over my right breast and the bra, still around my middle, down my stomach and over the fabric of my skirt, down to my hips and right thigh. I shivered against her as she paused, trailing her fingertips back up my thigh, over my hot skin, to press against the front of my panties.
She watched me, locking her gaze with mine, as her thumb pressed down onto my center, the heel of her hand hard against my clit. I shuddered against her, but I kept her gaze, too. There was something about gripping her shoulders tightly, my fingernails marking her skin, surely. Something about holding that gaze. Her eyes were dark, but in their darkness, they seemed even more alive; they flashed with an inner fire that pierced me through. Her eyes saw to the very depths of me, as her fingers traced patterns over my center, going back and forth, back and forth, gently, almost delicately, but enough that a hiss of desire escaped my lips, and I pressed down onto her hand with my own, asking with my body, asking again. Please.
I must have said it out loud, because something moved across her face…and if I thought she wanted me before now... Well. I didn’t know how much she could want me. Because Kane sat back on her heels, and in one effortless motion, she took the waistband of my panties and pulled them smoothly off of me, down my hips and legs. She tossed them over her shoulder, and her mouth was at my right knee now, kissing me gently, breathing out against my skin as she closed her eyes; her dark lashes fluttered against her pale cheeks as she breathed out into the stillness, inhaling the scent of me.
“Please,” I whispered, then. She looked at me instantly, her dark eyes flashing, and I gripped her shoulder hard, leaving little half-moons in her skin, my nails holding tight to her. “Please,” I repeated, shaking my head, licking my lips. “I can’t wait anymore.”
“Neither can I,” said Kane, and she shook her head, pushing off the bed and up, standing at the edge of it, then. I rose to my elbows, and I watched her, watched her carefully and quickly unbutton every button on her shirt. I watched that shirt fall from her creamy shoulders, down to the floor, watched her as she raked her fingers through her hair, to the side, so that the white-gold, shimmering strands fell, cascading over her bare right arm, and down. I watched her undo the button and zipper on her suit pants, watched her remove them with a single motion, watched them fall to the floor with her boyshorts. The shoes were gone in a moment, and then Kane stood there, stood there with her long, lean body that seemed so pale in the half-light. She wore a single metal cuff on her wrist, a wide, thick bit of metal I hadn’t noticed before—it was covered in Irish symbols. A triskel, though I didn’t know that word at the time, was front and center on the wide cuff.
But, let’s be honest…my eyes weren’t lingering on her singular piece of jewelry.
This was the first time that I’d seen Kane’s body, and as my heart rose into my throat, as she stood there for only a heartbeat longer before she descended to me again…that moment, that heartbeat, will linger in my memory for eternity.
Kane was tall, taller than me by about a head, and her legs were long and lean—I knew these things about her body already. My fingertips had already traced the muscled contours of her belly, so I knew she was muscled, too, but it was hard to discern how muscled she was beneath the men's suits she always wore, the tie drawn up around her neck, the dress shirt always buttoned to its topmost button.
Now, here, devoid of all of that, my eyes traced her lines and curves, her muscled belly and her muscled thighs, the rise and fall and curve of her hips, the perfect shape of her breasts. Her nipples were startlingly pink—I think “startling,” because the rest of her was so pale, ashen and milk-white. The curve of her breasts was small, but high and round. Vampires retain the body they had when they were bitten. Here and now, I saw the hard work Kane must have endured in Ireland, hundreds of years ago. I couldn’t imagine her life then, what she must have seen and done, trying to carry the weight of a farm on her shoulders, the weight of her family’s welfare.
But I didn’t see just sadness, though I knew the stories of her muscles, of strong hands and thighs and arms, was one of sadness.
I also saw beauty, beauty vast and deep, not because it was conventional, but because she was so beautiful to me. Because she was. Every line and every curve of her called to me, begged for me to touch and kiss and worship. I wanted to put my mouth in every bend of her, breathe in every inch of her skin, kiss it and caress it and mark it as mine with tongue and teeth and touch. The waterfall of her mane cascaded down her back, over her well-muscled shoulders, and as she stood there with her feet apart, her arms easy at her sides, her chin lifted and her eyes glittering in the dark, I could feel the pull between us, the line from my heart to hers…tightening.
“Come here,” I told her, my voice low, shaking, as I lifted a hand to her, holding it out, palm up.
And she came.
Kane knelt down on the edge of the bed, knelt down between my legs. On her hands and knees, and yet still so very, very powerful, she arched over me, her dark eyes glittering with need for a long moment before she closed her eyes. Her long lashes lay against her pale cheeks, and then she bent her beautiful head, and she breathed out into my palm, placing a delicate, haunting kiss there, against my skin.
I licked my lips, my heart about to beat itself out of my chest. I still held myself up with one elbow beneath me, and now I turned my head to the side. I licked my lips. I tried to still my erratically beating heart (and failed).
“Closer,” I whispered to her.
Kane’s mouth turned up deliciously at the corners, and there was mischief there as she rose off her heels, curving her body over mine now, her right arm holding her up, her hand positioned beside my waist, but her other arm was looping beneath my waist, then going under my body. Kane sat back on her heels again as she lifted me up, and I was surprised at how strong she was, because I think there were some moments where I was still forgetting exactly what she was, where I was still expecting her to act human, be human. But Kane was not human, and had not been human for a very long time.
Kane lifted me into her lap as she turned around smoothly, moving herself to the center of the bed, and she sat there, cross-legged, with my own legs wrapped around her waist, her arms wrapped around me tightly and holding me to her like she was never going to let go while I straddled her, sitting in her lap.
Kane kissed me then, while we were heart to heart. Her cold skin against my own made me shiver with delight as she kissed me long and deep, her tongue raking through my mouth with need. She was aware of her pointed incisors and was gentle, letting me set the pace, and we moved together in that kiss, every part of me aching.
My center was not quite pressed against her pelvis, and that’s what I wanted, and I ground down a little onto her lap as she traced a hand down my back, raking her short fingernails over me to cup her hand on my ass, holding me in place and bringing me a little snugger against her. She traced those fingers over my hip and thigh, and then she was dipping her hand between us.
There was absolutely nothing that stood between Kane and me anymore, and when her fingers turned and then gently brushed against my opening, I breathed out, moaning into the darkness, because I’d never wanted anything more than I wanted her in that moment. And Kane knew it—she felt my want, radiating off of my body like light, and she bent her head, tracing her tongue over my chest until she captured my left nipple with her mouth. And when she did that, when she bit down gently, her sharp incisors drifting over my skin with delicacy…that’s when she entered me.
Kane was so cold at first, her fingers ice cold, and it was shocking and delicious all at once as she curved her fingers into me, brushing her thumb over my clit, pressing down with the heel of her hand and moving her hips, using them as leverage for her hand so that her fingers pushed in deeper.
Kane touched me, watching me with her darkened eyes, her mouth open, parted, as she panted against me, as she moved her hips, pushing her hand back and forth, making her fingers come and go, entering me deeply and almost leaving
me…but not quite. The rhythm was exactly what I needed, and it grounded me in that moment, that moment with her.
My arms were wrapped around her, and her left arm was wrapped around me. We were as close as two creatures could possibly get, wrapped up in one another, our limbs contorted and tangled, our hearts pressed tightly together. I cried out, threading my fingers through her hair, tightly against her scalp, pulling and twisting as I flung my head back, as I pulsed my hips up and down onto her hand. I knew what felt good, and so did she, and she was drawing this exquisite pleasure from me, as if she’d done this hundreds of times before. As if she knew exactly what it took to bring me to the edge of ecstasy, and then over it.
Kane kissed my neck softly, slowly, my shoulder, cold kisses that made me shiver against her, crying out again, as I pushed myself down on her hand, craving release. It was when I drew her face to mine, when I kissed her again, hard, fiercely, feeling her cold mouth against mine, her fingers inside of me, her thumb against my clit, her entire body wrapped tightly with mine…that’s when I came.
It was sudden and immediate and surprising, the orgasm that raked through me. Kane hissed out against me in pleasure as she felt my muscles contract against her fingers, as she felt my wetness coat her hand. She slowed down the rhythm, and she coaxed me longer, higher, until my eyelashes fluttered against my cheeks, until every muscle in my entire body was softly shivering with pleasure. Then she pulled her wet fingers from me, lying back down upon the pillows, drawing me with her. I lay on top of her, my entire body trembling, my breathing still coming fast, and she wrapped her arms tightly around me, embracing me so tenderly that I felt fully held.
Pleasure still radiated, like a shooting star, through every atom of me as I straightened up, rising over her, still straddling her. I placed my hands onto her muscled stomach, and I stared down at Kane, one arm pillowed beneath her head, a soft smile turning up the corners of her mouth so beautifully that my still-thrumming heart skipped a beat. Her eyes were still darkened, her incisors were still fanged, and as I looked down at this beautiful vampire, this beautiful vampire that I knew I loved, loved deeply, madly, truly, I wanted nothing more than to make her feel just as good as she’d made me feel.
Trusting Eternity (The Sullivan Vampires, Volume 2 Page 13
