by Mary Hughes
Weaving my fingers into his long hair, I joined him in a fevered kiss.
A few minutes of that had us panting. Mid-tongueswipe, I started fumbling with the edges of his leather vest.
He stepped back. “Wait.”
Reaching for him, I rasped, “I can’t wait…wh-wha…?”
Under my hands, he turned to mist. I fell back, astonished, as his clothes dropped to the floor.
He snapped back naked, a masterpiece sculpted in bone and muscle and hot velvet skin.
I leaped for him, arms wrapping around his neck, legs around his hips. His hands came under my bottom, holding me up. I crossed my ankles behind him and gazed down into his storm-blue eyes, above his chiseled cheeks and oh-so-kissable lips.
It was different, me above him, and powerful, enough so that something deep inside me broke free. Something wild and creative. Serendipity, coming out to play. I planted a quick kiss on his mouth then released his neck to strip off my shirt and bra, immediately feeding him a nipple. He reacted like it was Christmas and I’d just given him a big ol’ candy cane.
His mouth tugged hot on my breast, striking bright sparks of need in me. As he eagerly sucked and laved, I arched back and shook my head until my bun disintegrated and my hair spilled free. When I straightened, tresses fell cool and silky around my shoulders.
I kicked off my shoes then uncrossed my legs, levering them out of his hold, and let gravity take me down.
He let go of my nipple before I was hurt, but I wasn’t thinking about that now, too excited. Too uninhibited, almost drunk on the feeling of complete freedom I got with him.
Nixie said I could be myself only in private. But being with Thor was being private. He felt as intimate to me, as right, as my own skin.
I unsnapped and unzipped my jeans and shimmied out of both pants and panties. I felt light and girlish enough to do cartwheels and headstands.
Which gave me an idea. I went to the metal bench bolted onto one wall—and flipped onto it in a headstand, waving my spread legs suggestively.
“Sera.” A rumble filled the small cell, coming from him, that purr I’d heard before. He strode toward me, sweeping up his shirt on the way. He folded it and, wrapping a sure arm around my waist, lifted me a few inches and tucked it under my head.
I didn’t realize until he’d lowered me onto the soft cushion of his shirt how hard that bench was against my skull. This was definitely better.
Then he grabbed my hips and got busy. I yowled at his tongue branding my blossoming sex, slapping over and over, blood heavy in my head and pooling hot in my groin, abandoning the rest of me until my quivering arm muscles gave out, and I fell forward onto him.
He caught me and flipped my feet to the floor. I started to straighten, but the room was spinning. He pressed my head down so that the quick switch, rather than make me dizzy, made me giddy.
Giddy enough that I wanted desperately to hit that home run now, hard and fast and straight down the middle. I rubbed my buttocks against him, feeling his cock rise, so beautifully thick and hard.
Practical, responsible me intervened one last time. “I don’t suppose you have protection with you?”
“One nice thing about my kind.” He pressed a kiss to the dimples in my hips. “I’m completely clean.”
Good enough for me. I waggled my butt in invitation.
“Beautiful Sera. Thank you.” With a hiss of desire, he grabbed my hips in both hands and skewered me with his cock.
He filled me, stretched me. The sensation pulled a long, low moan from my throat. He thrust again. I tilted my hips up to take him deeper. He started riding me with hard, straight thrusts.
I shouted. That felt good, so I shouted again, louder. He kept smacking into me, pushing cool air and hot cock, my whole body jiggling with the power of his, my nipples tightening from it all.
I wanted more.
Edging us forward until I could reach, I slapped my hands against the wall. With firm leverage, I began rocking my hips back in time with his thrusts, doubling the impact. My whole body tightened, winching up the orgasm roller coaster.
Practical me would’ve ridden that sucker straight to the top. But Thor inspired me. With him, scary creativity became fun and exhilarating. I never wanted it to end.
So I didn’t let it. “One, two, three!” I disengaged by ducking away.
Nearly smacked my head on the bench, but he caught my trailing arm and spun me in a circle instead. I laughed, my tight nipples and damp breasts cooling in the breeze.
Catching his wrist in return, I urged him onto the bench, alternately tugging and pushing until I got him into position on his back, his head hanging over the edge, his cock pointing skyward like an invitation. The sight of him, so ready for me, made my belly throb with need.
I climbed on, my hips poised to take all that tall, thick goodness inside.
“Wait.” His hands wrapped around my waist, stilling me. “There’s something you should know. I can’t give you any diseases. But if you’re my mate, I can get you pregnant.”
Vague bells rang in my head, Nixie’s calling me Thor’s mate. I didn’t really believe her, and the wild child was ascendant, so I nearly ignored his words and plowed ahead.
But he wore a wistful, hopeful expression, and for just a moment I pictured it. Making a baby with Thor. A sweet thrill lightened my soul. All that responsibility? He’d be a wonderful father.
I smiled and nodded. “I didn’t want to start a family until I met the right man. But if you and I make a baby, well. I guess it won’t be hard to learn to say I love you.”
Something lit inside him in answer, a glow in his gaze that said he’d been waiting a lifetime to hear those words, and more, that he’d be overjoyed to work another lifetime to hear them from me. He released me to slide down onto him.
He filled me, stretched me, my smile broadening with every exciting inch.
Planting my hands on his pecs, I began rolling my hips into him like an oil rig. I rode him, so hard and fast, he started sliding off the bench onto his head. His arms came up and over, and his hands hit the floor, his neck and face turning red—but inside me, he grew even fatter, even longer.
Bouncing on him, I took him to the edge, until his eyes clenched tight, until his body trembled then shook with need—and then I hopped off him and danced to the door of the cell.
He roared in frustration.
I’d already grabbed bars and turned my wet, needy sex toward him. The moment he sat up, flaming desire and irritation warring in his gaze, I waggled.
“Sera.” My name was a threat, and a promise.
Oh, he was riled but good, and I loved it. He stalked up to me, grabbed my hips and plowed into me in a single hard thrust. And we were off again.
I would have done that all night, but the next time I tried to slip away, Thor snarled and grabbed my arms to stop me.
My gaze fell on his canines, long and sleek, and my whole body clenched in desire at another idea. Instead of wiggling loose, I leaped up and hugged him tight, wrapping legs around his waist and arms around his neck—and licked his fang like a lollipop.
He roared, the sharp lengths shooting out even farther. I twirled my tongue over them, teasing each in turn. He simply grabbed my hips and planted me on his cock.
Standing, hunched in a sort of question mark, he humped into me from below, each pounding thrust juddering through my body.
Snarling fingers in his hair, I shoved his fangs at my neck, regardless of where they’d pierce.
He tore his hair from my grasp, seized my head in one hand, and forced me to look at him—really look. His eyes were fiery red, his fangs were dangerously, seductively sharp.
“What do you want, Sera?” he purred.
The imp rose in me. “Bite me.” I kicked my chin out, exposing my throat. “Bite hard.”
“Oh, I will,” he promised. “But on my terms, not yours.”
“Because you’re the big bad vampire?”
He grinned
. “That, too.”
He backed me into the wall, pinning me against it. “Curl your legs tight around me.”
“What?” I was breathless from the rub of my nipples against the hard muscles of his chest, velvet skin roughened by light hair, the slick feel of both our excitement between us.
“This.” With my body pinned and helpless, he lassoed my ankles with his hands and crossed them behind his back. Then he manacled my wrists and pinned them against the wall over my head. “Now. Biting here…” With his fangs, he traced a line down my throat, sending a long shiver of lust down me. “…is good. But biting here…” He touched those sharp points to the side of my neck where my pulse throbbed frantically. “…is dangerous.” He lifted his head and nailed me in the eye with his bright red gaze. “I won’t let you be hurt, Sera.”
“But it’d hurt so good,” I panted.
“You’re impossible.” He shook his head, blond waves rustling against his muscled shoulders. “Be as wild as you like. I’ll make sure you don’t get hurt.” He rubbed his cheek against mine.
“Mmm. You’ll rein me in with your ultra-bad control? I like.” I levered my back against the wall and my wrists against his strength and slammed my hips into his, driving his cock to the hilt—and squeezed. He gasped. I nuzzled aside his hair and whispered in his ear, “I like a lot.” Then I bit his earlobe, just at the edge of hard.
“Sera.” He swallowed, loud enough to hear. “Sweet, lovely Sera. Mate with me. Mate with me now.”
Mate with me. Sounded scary and permanent—and with Thor, absolutely right.
“Yes.” I threw my head back. “Bite me.”
He roared, powered into me with his cock, and opened his mouth over my throat—his fangs pierced my skin. Blood welled hot, deep joy and thrills rising with it. I shrieked and came.
Big, bright, extended shockwaves powered through me. It was almost too much, like grabbing a live wire. He pulled his fangs out and licked my neck with his warm, rough tongue, purring like mad. My climax shook me like a leaf, like an earthquake, but his strength kept me from shaking myself apart.
As the aftershocks wowed me, I nuzzled him. Nixie was wrong. For her, it was be creative in the solos. For me, it was be creative in the duets, because, though my imp of creativity could be bad in the wrong place at the wrong time—with the right, strong male, it could be a joy.
With Thor, I could be as wild as I liked, because he’d always rein things in so no one got hurt—not even me.
Especially not me.
Thor backed away from the wall, cradling Sera against him. His palms rested on the soft skin of her back, pockmarked from the pounding he’d given her, thrusting into her again and again against rough, cinder block wall.
“I’m sorry.” He rubbed her poor skin.
“I’m not.” She snuggled up against him. His cock started to revive.
Until a bell tinkled.
He dropped Sera gently to her feet and spun, putting himself between her and whoever dared interrupt them.
A small woman with a big blonde bouffant stood just outside the bars, smacking a wad of gum.
He knew her as vampire Solomon Stark’s mate, salon-owner Dolly Barton. “Dolly? What are you doing here?”
“Don’t mind me, Sugar. I’m here for Sera.”
Sera peeked out from behind him. “Um, hi.” She started snatching up her clothes. “What do you want?”
At least Sera didn’t sound embarrassed. That had been the wildest, most creative sex he’d ever had. And for a many-centuries-old vampire, that was saying something.
He’d never have thought she had that much wild in her. Yet she’d made it seem as natural as breathing.
So wild, she’d nearly let him bite her jugular, her carotid. Death in moments. He’d tried to cultivate his own wild side, yet when her life was in danger, his control had snapped back into place, responding just as naturally.
He stood there dumbstruck while Sera dressed. With her, his control was a good thing.
“I just stopped by on my way to the awards ceremony, to confirm your haircut appointment tomorrow, Sugar.”
“How did you know I was here?” Sera asked Dolly.
In answer, the stylist only arched a brow.
Of course, Dolly knew everything. To say she was the town gossip was like saying silver stung. Dolly knew everything that went on, sometimes even before it happened. It was said Agent Phil Coulter—not the Shield guy, Meiers Corners’s insurance agent, although he was slim and brunet and always wore perfect suits—got his best tips from Dolly during his weekly sideburn threading.
The stylist herself was a seventy-year-old, platinum-blonde dynamo who was four foot eight, forty-two D, and looked exactly like the country singer except older and shorter. Like a Dolly Parton Bobble Head. She was actually a hundred and two and only looked seventy because of Stark.
“I also have a message for you.” Dolly pointed at Thor.
“Me?”
She nodded. “From Sol. Neither of us likes the fact that rogues attacked Nieman’s in broad daylight, so to speak. I heard a rumor that they’ll try again. Sol says you should be on hand at the awards ceremony tonight.”
“The whole city will be there, including most of the protectors.” Thor shook his head, disbelief almost a fist in his gut. “Rogues wouldn’t dare attack.”
“Can you take the chance?”
Normally, no. But tonight… it won’t be hard to learn to say I love you. Resolve firmed. “I’m staying here.”
“Suit yourself.” Dolly turned to Sera. “So, your haircut. Did you want to try something different, maybe some highlights? Or go for ombres?”
“I don’t know. Jenny might try to copy me.” Done dressing, Sera pushed a hand through her heavy hair, down from its usual bun.
He liked that wild, just out of bed look. If she let him, he’d have it down more often.
Dolly rolled her eyes. “So let her. It’s her choice.”
“Nixie said that. But I feel guilty anyway.” She sighed. “Nixie said I could be myself in the solos. But even being myself then doesn’t work. There is no such thing as a solo with Jenny. How can I live with myself if my bad judgment hurts her?”
Thor’s heart ached for his brave, compassionate Sera.
“All due respect to both you and Nixie,” Dolly said briskly, “But you’re asking the wrong questions. First, is what you want to do legal and moral? If so, and you’re still worried that someone might do the same thing and get hurt, then the only thing that really matters is who you’re doing it for. Is it selfish, for yourself only? Or is it for others’ benefit? Speaking of, I’d be selfish if I didn’t point out you’re naked, Thor. Umm-hmm.” She eyed him up and down.
He blushed. She was another male’s mate. Stark wouldn’t like it if he continued to display his body.
He grabbed his clothes, starting with the folded shirt on the bench, dented from Sera’s head when he tasted her pretty—
“Wow,” Dolly said. She was staring at his groin…where Mr. Happy was remembering Sera’s taste, too.
He threw on clothes as quickly as possible. As he dressed, his cell phone rang. He snapped it out and listened.
“It’s Camille. I’m at Settler’s Square and there’s a battle. Hordes of vampires attacking.”
His blood went cold.
“We need you. Now.”
At the call to battle, his blood reversed, rushing hot through his veins. He ended the call and the warring emotions started him pacing. “A rogue attack, as you said, Dolly.”
“You have to help.” Sera’s rumpled brow revealed how worried she was. “Go, Thor. Go! Help them.”
Every protector cell in his body urged him to do as she said. But his heart held him back, and his heart was stronger. “Strongwell will be there, and Emerson. I’m needed here.”
“I’ll be fine.” She smiled. “They’ll need your strength. Go help Camille and the rest.”
Still, he hesitated. “I don’t want to
leave you.”
“I’ll wait with her, sugar.” Dolly held up what looked like an ordinary electric hair clipper. “Vampire stunner.” She cracked her gum.
“Thor, go,” Sera repeated. “Protect the humans.”
“Well…I’ll return as quickly as possible.” He gave Sera a hard kiss, blew into mist, and streamed out.
Chapter Nine
I was reeling from that I’ll-definitely-see-you-later kiss, the feel of sleek, smooth fangs still burning against my lips, when I heard, “Wh-wha…?”
Officer Titus tottered in the doorway, eyes big as moons, blinking. He took one step from the doorway, croaked, “F-fangs…?” and fainted dead away, making a whump hitting the floor.
The young police officer had seen Thor’s fangs. Had seen him turn into mist.
Dolly glanced over her shoulder at Titus. “I wonder why he came back.”
“I think Camille sent him. You should go make sure he’s okay.”
But instead of helping him, she shook her head and swung back to me, eyeing me critically. The weight of her stare practically burned. I could see why Thor had blushed.
“What about Titus?” I pointed at him. “Shouldn’t you try to revive him?”
“He’s fine. We have more important things to consider. Did you see his reaction? Think about what’s happening at Settler’s Square. Vampires attacking. Not like muggers—not keeping the masquerade intact—but actively biting.”
“It’s scary, but it’ll be okay. Our v-guys will win. Thor’s being there will help them win.”
She cracked her gum. “Certainly your mate will help win the fight, but they’ll lose the real war.”
“He’s not my mate—oh hell. All right. What do you mean, real war? What war?”
“If thousands of town folk discover vampires actually exist, they’ll react like him.” Dolly jerked a thumb over her shoulder at Titus. “Or worse, run to your brother’s store and clean him out of tactical weapons.” She mimed shooting with a bazooka. “Whoosh—pow.”
This fight was like the bar fight, times a thousand. This time, Thor and Camille and the rest would be dealing with all of Meiers Corners. Even if the vampires could hypnotize all the humans before they scattered, who knew how many were immune? How many might run to Bruno’s for silver ammo?
