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The Bloodline Series Box Set

Page 39

by Gabriella Messina


  Sam’s thoughts were interrupted by banging coming from the window. Benny! She growled as she moved swiftly to the window. You really need to learn to come through the front door! Sam pulled the heavy drapes back with a whoosh... and came face-to-face with...

  Vincent.

  Sam quickly turned the window locks and slid the window up, the old counterweight mechanism groaning under the exertion. “Um... hi.”

  Vincent smiled tightly and hopped in, his newly cleaned and mended duster billowing as he did. He closed the window behind him, pulling at the drapes to close them. He parted them very slightly, peeking through and looking down at the street corner below.

  “You know, I do have a front door, right?”

  Vincent’s mouth twitched with the hint of a smirky smile. “Yeah, I know.”

  “So, you could have used it.”

  Vincent shook his head as he let the curtains close. He brushed at his coat, more of an effort to avoid her gaze than remove any speck of dust or dirt. “No, I couldn’t. They’re watching the building, I didn’t want to be seen.”

  “I see.” Sam turned and walked back to the sofa, plunking down on it and grabbing the wine glass. “You want a drink?”

  Vincent shook his head. “No, I’m fine, thank you.” He hesitated for a moment, his gaze traveling around the room and taking in everything... everything but her, it seemed. Sam watched him carefully, taking in the wilt in his posture, the slight pallor of his skin. Vincent was tired... not just sleepy tired, but weary bone tired. There was something else, though... an openness she hadn’t felt before, not even the other night on the sofa despite their state of undress and movement towards physical intimacy. Vincent was vulnerable now, the wall that he had so carefully built to hold not just her, but the world, out had weakened to nothing and as he stood there, his gaze finally turning to her, Sam felt her heart tug. She wanted to hold him, to pull him close and envelope him and make the world go away for now, forever even.

  “I want to apologize... for the other night. My behavior... I shouldn’t have acted like that with you.”

  Sam felt herself crumbling inside. Was he really regretting what had happened? She willed her voice not to shake as she spoke. “The way you... acted?”

  Vincent nodded. “Stalking out like that. Hudson...” He hesitated, his body tensing. “I wasn’t expecting to have to deal with him... just then... And hearing about Alice was just...”

  Sam tried to hide her relief as she shook her head. “You don’t have to apologize. I... I know, about her... and about you. At least, I know what was in Ivan’s book, and what Hudson told me. That’s all I need to know right now.”

  Vincent nodded, his demeanor shifting. Sam felt the shift in his chemistry, too, as he slipped off his duster, laying it carefully over the recliner next to him. “You thought... I was apologizing for something else, didn’t you?” He shook his head, his smile spreading from the corner smirk across his lips, his eyes twinkling slightly in the dim light of the room. “Sweetheart, I’d never apologize for that. In fact...” The twinkle in his eyes intensified, his eyes darkening slightly as the hint of mischief was replaced by more-than-a-hint of something else...

  “In fact?”

  Vincent took a few slow steps forward, bringing him within arm’s reach of her by the sofa. He studied her, his eyes raking over her robed form, lingering briefly at the hem of her robe, the collar area that plunged between her breasts... “Have you been having a lot of... dreams... since the heat started?”

  “Yes.”

  “What are they about?”

  Sam shifted slightly, averting her gaze from him. “Just, uh, stuff.”

  “Tell me, love... What do you see? What do you smell? What do you feel?”

  Sam hesitated, then looked up at him, heaving a quick breath before answering. “You. It’s always you.”

  They looked at each other for what felt like the longest of moments before Sam asked, “What about you? What do you dream about?”

  Vincent closed the space between them, bringing himself within inches of Sam as he reached out to touch her face gently, brushing a few stray hairs back from her cheek. “What do I dream about? This.” He leaned toward her, bringing his lips close to hers, pausing just long enough to moisten them before pressing them against her own.

  His kiss was soft, different from the others they had shared, and involuntarily the word benediction passed through Sam’s mind as she responded softly in kind. Her olfactory senses were engulfed with him, the mint and the maleness, and she felt that she might swoon in a moment as she felt the need to breathe overwhelming her. The taste of his lips stimulated her memory, and the intensity and feeling of their last encounter came rushing back like a tidal wave. Sam felt she might drown in it, but suddenly Vincent broke the kiss, and Sam gasped softly before looking up into his eyes.

  Vincent’s eyes were dark and soft as they looked at her, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth as he gently brushed her bangs back from her face. His hands drifted down to cup her cheeks, his thumb gently rubbing the apple of her left cheek as his eyes drifted lower. He licked his own lips, a small movement that made Sam shiver slightly in anticipation. She noticed a sudden flash of fire in his eyes, his breath quickening as he leaned in again to capture her lips.

  This kiss was more intense, more urgent. Vincent pulled her closer to him, the heat of his body becoming a fresh wave threatening to engulf her, or at the very least incinerate his tee shirt. Sam quickly moved her hands down his chest and pulled at the edge of the shirt, her fingers brushing against his stomach, her sensitive fingertips absorbing the warmth of his skin, her body jolting in response to the softness of his skin, the texture of the hair there.

  Their lips parted for a moment while Vincent quickly pulled his shirt off over his head, an errant curl falling over his forehead as the movement mussed his hair. Sam quickly shrugged off her robe, allowing it to drop to the floor, and the two quickly came back together, the kiss more intense now as Vincent clutched her close to his chest, his hands traveling up her back, all strength and gentleness as his fingertips played with the fabric of her thin nightgown.

  Vincent’s hands slowly slid back down again until they reached the edge of her nightgown, then just as slowly, achingly slowly, pulled the nightgown up, breaking the kiss for only a moment as he slid it up over her head, leaving Sam in only her panties.

  Sam suddenly felt shy as she watched Vincent stare at her, his eyes still dark, still soft and full of... well, there was lust there to be sure, but something else, too... something Sam hadn’t expected. A tenderness... an affection... Vincent knelt in front of her, his hands holding her gently at the hips. He was still for a moment, his eyes roaming over her as his thumbs slowly moved back and forth over her hip bones. Little adrenalin butterflies were filling her stomach, and Sam felt the goosebumps raising on her arms and legs, partly in response to his touch, also because of the chill of standing there in the living room nearly naked.

  Vincent leaned forward his forehead resting against her stomach, and he sighed.

  “Jesus, you’re beautiful.” His voice was quiet, but clear. The feeling of his skin pressed against her, even if it was just his hands and his forehead, was utterly intoxicating. He looked up at her, his mouth tantalizingly close to her breasts as it had been the other night, and Sam could feel the pressure beginning to build inside her. She shivered slightly, a small whimper making its way out as she did.

  “Fuck,” Vincent cursed under his breath, that same breath coming more quickly as his hands stopped their gentle ministrations, instead gripping her hips more firmly. Sam acquiesced, allowing him to pull her to him, and then to the floor. Their lips met again as he gently pulled her into his lap, clutching her to him, her breasts pressed against his bare chest.

  “Vincent?” Sam whispered against his lips.

  He paused just long enough to ask, “What’s the matter, love?”, then returned to kissing her, his lips moving along her c
heek and jaw to her neck. Sam shifted slightly, the stiffness of the floorboards momentarily distracting her from another obvious stiffness pressing against her leg.

  “You know... I have... a bed, right?”

  Kissing is arguably the most erotic thing in the world, not just because it is the expected prelude to the most intimate of acts, but everything surrounding it was designed to heighten the senses, tune them to the same wavelength as your partner. The feeling of lips pressed against lips, flushed and moist... the give and take of pressure ebbing and flowing as the lips moved together... the taste, heady and hormonal... the sound of lips, coming together and parting, one mouth opening to another, sensual and wet... the feel of breath, hot and rapid, the hint of unspoken words floating from one partner to the other...

  They’d made it to the bed. As soon as Sam had mentioned her bed, Vincent had swept her up and carried her in, gently laying her down on the bed before he divested himself of his boots, jeans, and underwear. He stood there for a moment, then nervously rubbed the back of his neck, as if Sam’s frank gaze at his nakedness was making him embarrassed. Yep, he was blushing...

  Sam sat up, sliding to the edge of the bed near him. She reached out and took both of his hands, pulling him closer as she stood up. Placing his hands on her hips again, she waited a moment for him to take the initiative, then wiggled her hips slightly.

  “Well?”

  “Well.”

  Sam smiled. “Are you going to take them off, or do I have to do it?”

  Vincent chuckled even as he moved his fingers into the waist band of her panties, and with one movement slipped them down off of her hips. Sam wiggled again, letting them slide down her legs to the floor. The moment they hit the floor, Vincent leaned in again quickly, his hand gently brushing her cheek as he kissed her. His other hand moved around her back, and he pulled her closer to him as Sam’s own hands made their way around his waist, inched slowly up his back, and settled near his shoulders.

  Vincent thought he might just have a heart attack if it beat any harder. He felt almost breathless with the effect of kissing Sam, touching her... and yet all he could think about was touching her more, everywhere, anywhere, crawling inside of her with his very being and staying there, warm and wanted, forever. He turned them slightly, improving his access to the bed, and he moved to sit on the edge of the bed. The kiss broke, and Sam remained standing for a moment, her eyes lowered demurely. Vincent chuckled to himself... the two of them and their wildness, and here they were shy in front of each other. But there would be no surprises or disappointments tonight... He’d seen her six months ago, albeit recently changed and a bit bloody, but still the sight of her form had been enough to set his blood on fire. And for his part... well, it had been obvious in the rapid change in her adrenalin and heartbeat that Sam had liked what she saw when he stripped.

  Vincent reached out a hand to her, and she quickly took it, stepping forward into the space between his legs and bringing her arms around his shoulders. Vincent buried his face in her chest, his five-o’clock shadow scraping along the curve of her breasts. He felt her shiver lightly in his arms and gripped her tightly to him as he leaned back on the bed, bringing her with him. The movement changed their positions somewhat, and Vincent found his face missing the wonderfully soft and silky resting place they had enjoyed moments ago. Sam’s head had shifted south, and her cheek was now resting on his chest, the corner of her mouth sweeping gentle kisses. Her mouth briefly brushed his nipple and Vincent heaved a ragged sigh. Sam raised her head, her chin resting on his chest now as she looked up at him... and smiled. Vincent parted his lips slightly, inhaling deeply and letting the heady scent of her body wash over him, through him... the faint scent of her shampoo, her perfume, her sex, creating an intoxicating cocktail that made him feel drunk. He carefully pulled her up and on top of him, his lips meeting hers tenderly as his hands moved down her body, one gripping her hips while the other dipped between her legs. Vincent gently touched her, exploring her, and Sam’s moans increased in frequency and volume as he did. He kissed her, his lips matching the movements of his fingers against her, and Sam whimpered, her body shaking softly as she sighed.

  Slowly they rolled over, Vincent carefully settled himself against her, on top of her. He leaned in close, his eyes meeting hers as he focused on the rhythm of her breathing, her skin gently touching, then retreating from, his as she breathed. He leaned in closer, his breath bouncing back to him from her skin, warm and wet. Vincent’s nose brushed along her, a very wolf-like nuzzle that made her smile against his lips as his mouth found hers once more. He felt her tongue moving against his lips, his tongue and he could feel the pressure building within him. He moved against her and immediately Sam shifted slightly beneath him, her legs coming up around him and holding him against her.

  “Vincent...” She was panting, her body squirming beneath him. Vincent nodded, kissing her again gently, then firmly as she guided him inside her.

  Jesus, God...thought Vincent, groaning in unison with Sam as they settled together. He brushed her hair back from her forehead, kissing her gently at the corner of her mouth. “Are you alright?”

  Sam’s response was physical, scooping her hips toward him in a move that demonstrated very clearly, she was not only perfectly alright, but she was very eager to continue.

  Vincent moved... each scoop of his own hips precise... deep... measured... thorough.... She was moaning, the soft sound growing more intense as they continued moving together. And it most definitely was together, Vincent noted as he rested his forehead against hers. He slowed his pace a bit, savoring the delicious feeling of the air cooling his skin. They were both sweating, the smell of their scents mingling together in a heady mixture.

  Vincent varied his pace slightly and Sam moaned his name in response, pulling him closer to her. Vincent growled, a low sound in his chest, and began to move faster. Their breathing was nearly in sync, and more like gasps now as the two moved as one, coming ever closer to their release.

  Sam could feel the tension in Vincent’s body, a tension matching her own. Their eyes met, and Vincent leaned in, resting his forehead against hers again, his voice catching as he whispered to her... It was quick and run together... moanamcara... sounded like Irish or something... but whatever it was, it stirred something in her as he said it. Sam felt herself succumbing to the waves of pleasure beginning to crash through her body, and she cried out as they intensified. The sound of her cry was enough to send Vincent over the edge as well, their synchronized movements becoming slower and more pronounced as they rode the blissful wave.

  Vincent relaxed onto her, nuzzling in beside her, his mouth near her ear as he whispered between gasps. “You... alright?”

  “Mm-hmm. You?”

  “I have... no words...” He grinned, a deep chesty laugh welling up as he nuzzled the spot where her cheek and jaw met her neck. Vincent held her close as he rolled backward and onto his side, pulling her along and tucking her in beside him. Sam snuggled in, relishing the feel of his moist skin, the heat emanating from his body, the heady smell of sweat and pheromones filling the air around them. Vincent’s hand drifted down along her back, his fingertips sliding delicately over her spine until they stopped at the base of her spine. Sam shivered and nestled in closer to his side.

  “Are you cold, love?”

  Sam shook her head, “Nah... my nerves are just blissing out.”

  Vincent chuckled again. He sat up slightly, bringing Sam along as he did so. Sam joined his laughter as they leaned forward together, and Vincent struggled to reach for the comforter. It took two lunges before he captured the corner and pulled the downy covering back with them. They fell back on the bed together, both laughing as Vincent tucked the comforter around her, then himself.

  Sam sighed contentedly. It was so warm and soft and comfortable, the heat from their bodies warming the blankets and sheets up to a toasty state. She was tired, and not just from their exertions, so it didn’t surprise her at all t
hat her eyes drifted closed moments later, the sound of Vincent’s heartbeat the last thing she heard and felt before her boneless limbs succumbed to sleep.

  30

  DAYLIGHT STREAMED THROUGH the partially-closed blinds, streaming onto the bed where Sam lay... alone. She stirred slightly, stretching luxuriously in the bed before her eyelids fluttered open. It was quiet... and a bit cold. Sam looked over at the other side of the bed and found it... empty. For a split-second, Sam felt a wave of panic wash over her... then she smelled it, the warm, wonderful scent calling to her from the kitchen...

  Breakfast sausage.

  Sam jumped out of bed, slipping her robe on and tying it up as she padded to the kitchen. She could pick out more scents as she walked... fresh tomatoes, hash browns, toast, coffee... She peeked around the corner, watching the chef in action. Vincent was steadily stirring in one of the frying pans, the flash of fluffy yellow telling Sam it was scrambled eggs even before she picked out the scent. He was partially dressed, his jeans pulled on, but his chest was bare, tattoos and muscles on full display. Sam felt her stomach knot up, the need for him almost as strong as her need for food. She felt her stomach growl low.

 

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