I hit my tied hands on the pillow above me. “Please.”
“Not yet.” He kisses his way up my body. “I need to taste you.” Then his tongue is on my clit and I’m transported.
“God, oh God, I’m going to come,” I beg him.
“No. Not until I give permission.” He slaps my breast, not hard, but sharp. Once. Again. “Wait for it.”
“Yes, Master.” My body backs off, even though it’s painful. I’ve never had to hold off an orgasm with such difficulty. I’m breathing hard. Sweating. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
He licks along my pussy lips, then thrusts his tongue into my pussy. I moan and wiggle as the sensation grows. I’m helpless under his touch.
Just when I think I’m about to come, he pulls away. “You want to come, Bri?”
“Yes.” I’m almost in tears.
“Ask for it, then.”
“Please let me come. I’ll do whatever you want.”
With that, he spreads my thighs and thrusts his iron-hard cock deep into my pussy.
I lift up my legs, and he grabs me by the calves, pulling me toward and up as he pumps me. His cock is all I crave in the world right now. My existence is my body and his, his cock in my pussy, every stroke bringing me closer to release.
“You’ll let me bite you and spank you and punish you when I want,” he demands.
“Yes, everything you want, please,” I beg.
He pauses, and I cry out in irritation and dismay, but when I feel his lips on my neck, I know he’s going to bite me there again.
Strange thoughts flow through my mind because bites on the neck are usually—I mean, I know it’s just folklore and mythology and all, but it’s so typically—but of course that’s not real, but it’s just—and what was with the blood in the bar?
Images flash in my mind and then spark like fireworks when his teeth sink into my skin. Alain in black. Alain’s face, lit up, against the night sky. Alain dressed in historical clothes, like he’s in a painting from the 1800’s. Alain and me in the club, as if I’m hovering above, watching him fuck me. Alain’s friend drinking a glass of blood. Alain’s long sharp teeth, driving into my body.
The needle sharp pain gives way, once again, to a second of numbness and then that growing warmth and pleasure.
I don’t know what the fuck is going on, and I don’t care. The pleasure is too great.
Now he’s pumping me again, his cock even thicker and stronger than before, his body powerful. I’m buzzing, high above the world, my mind spinning in ecstasy, better than anything.
Better than everything.
And when I come, a second later, the feeling is so exquisite that I cry out garbled sounds and clench my whole body as the unbelievably beautiful sensation rolls over me and through me with such force that I almost pass out.
Chapter 15
Alain
When I bite her for the second time, I suck hard, taking more blood than I maybe should. But she’s so fucking delicious.
The taste of her blood mixes with the exquisite flavor of her pussy, and I roar out my pleasure.
When I come, my whole world goes pure white and then black, and the orgasm takes me to bliss. I allow myself to revel in the sensation.
Jesus fucking Christ. I haven’t had a fuck this good in two hundred years.
A few minutes later, she’s nearly passed out, relaxing in my arms, and I’m still high on her blood and the sex. My whole body is pervaded with vigor and power, and when I look at her face, I feel a surprising sensation: I want her. Still.
Usually, sex is about getting blood, and the orgasm is a nice extra. Like mixing the necessary and the nice-to-have and getting a great combo. It’s about the immediate gratification, and then I just want the woman to leave.
Not with Bri. In fact, I don’t want this to be the last night, either. I want her again tonight.
Maybe every night.
And it’s not just for the blood, although I must admit that something about her essence has given me more energy than I’ve got from a human in decades.
I sigh and run a hand over my face. There can be no lasting romantic relationship between humans and vampires, and it is folly to even dream of it.
Yet here I am.
Bri stirs in my arms, and her eyelids flicker. She speaks without opening her eyes. “That was amazing.” Her voice is dreamy, drugged. When I bit her, my saliva entered her bloodstream and added to her euphoria.
She’s figuring things out; I saw it in her face. Read it in her mind. If she gets any more ideas, I’ll have to wipe her harder, even if it’s risky.
Fuck. If I have to do a longer, more complex wipe, it would really mess her up. Maybe it’s because she’s a redhead? I read a study claiming that redheads are genetically more susceptible to pain, although God knows there’s no scientific study about how they respond to vampire-induced brain cleanses.
I sigh. I hate the idea of her forgetting even a second of the time we spent together. I’m going to have a very difficult decision to make later on.
But for now, I just want to enjoy her presence. Pretend the rest of my troubles don’t exist. Because when I’m with her, I get those feelings I’ve always sought and never found: Peace. Relaxation. Joy.
I turn to her and kiss her awake. “Hey, beautiful. You ready for round two?”
Bri
The night passes in bursts of pleasure, and after some time, I’m so sated with sex and Alain that I’m barely coherent. Everything is good and bright and beautiful.
I lie on the bed, drowsing, half-watching him put away things we used: A crop. A paddle. Leather cuffs. I smell our sex in the air, and I like it. The sheet covering me is as soft as air and keeps me the perfect temperature.
“That was perfect.” And it was.
“Agreed.” He comes back and slides in beside me, taking me in his arms.
I snuggle up close and put my hand on him, wanting to touch as much of him as possible. “So what do you do?”
“Besides give you the best fuck of your life?” He smiles.
I hit his chest. “Brag much? What if I have other, better men?”
“Do you?” His voice is guarded.
I bite my lip. “Well, no. I don’t. What about you? Other women?”
“No.”
Relief floods my body. It’s just another one-night stand, but God help me, I already feel so possessive of him. I think I’d want to scratch out the eyeballs of any woman who so much as kissed him.
He laughs. “I bet you would.”
“I…”
“I mean, I bet you would like another round.” He sounds smug.
“Eh. We’ll see.” Of course, I do. But I’m not going to be the needy one and beg for something I probably won’t get. I know how life works.
“So did you get your blood tests back?” He touches my arm.
“Still waiting.” But it’s sweet that he asked. That he cares.
“Is it hard to wait?” He looks at my face.
“It’s torture. But I stay busy, you know, with my web design work.” I nod, to emphasize how in control of it I am. Try not to indicate how much I needed this night with him to push away the fears and doubts. To chase away the panic. “What do you do?”
“I’m in finance.”
“What kind? Banking?”
“I manage investment portfolios. Stocks. Options.”
“Things I know nothing about.”
“Most people don’t. That’s why I do pretty well.” He smiles. “I can help them with it.”
“Well, if you need a new website.” I wiggle my eyebrow. “You know who to call.”
He smiles. “I have a guy for that already.”
“You strike me as the kind of man who has a guy for everything.” I think about the Porsche, the casual way he took charge at the club, his whole demeanor. His house of treasures. Clearly a multi-millionaire.
He looks away for a second. “You can’t hire people for everything.”
“L
ike real friendship. Or true love.”
“Exactly.” He sounds sad.
Is someone like him lonely? It hardly seems likely—he could have anyone he wanted.
I touch his arm. “I read an article about how some people in Japan hire fake families to pretend to love them. Fake wives, fake children. It was an article a while back, in the New Yorker.”
“I read that.”
“Didn’t it seem creepy?”
“It seemed tragic.” He’s thoughtful. “And entirely inevitable. When people can’t get what they want naturally, they try to get it any way they can. Even if it’s not sustainable.”
“Not that a guy like you would ever be in that position.” I laugh.
“I suppose nobody who does that ever thought they’d be in that position.” He sighs and takes my face into his hands. “But the good thing here is that neither of us are faking this.”
He smiles and traces a finger over my lips. “When you cry out my name and beg me to come, I know you really want it.” His smile deepens into something wicked and bold. “Isn’t that right?”
It is right.
And so is the rest of the night, until we lie together, finally exhausted.
“It will be dawn soon.” His voice is low. “Shall I get you home to avoid the sun?” He pauses. “You can stay here during the day, but I must leave. I have business.” He looks away.
I sit up, the experience slowly pulling away. A tide, inevitable. Sad. “I should go home. Yes.”
He touches my face. “I’ll let you get dressed. Come in the kitchen when you’re ready, Bri.”
I find my clothes and put them on, not wanting day to come. I wish this night could last forever, so I could just live in the moment, in the joy of being with him. I don’t want the troubles that the day will bring.
When I enter the kitchen, he’s got his hands in his pockets and he’s staring out through huge plate glass windows that look like they can slide open to expose the patio, like a lanai in Hawaii.
“I’m ready.” I come up to his elbow, and he pulls me to him, close, and I swivel to press up against him. I wrap my arms around his body and squeeze, as if I can hold him to me this way. Make the night last longer.
He strokes my hair, then sighs. “My car is still in front.”
“All right.” I grab my purse.
He opens the front door. The air is cool and moist with night, and smells like the desert; creosote and cactus flowers. The moon is bright, and the stars are flung on the tapestry of the sky like diamonds.
“If you want.” I blurt it out before I can second guess myself. “Want to meet at the club again next Friday?”
My heart starts to pound.
He hesitates, and the silence grows thick and awful.
“You know, never mind.” I try to laugh. “I’m sorry, sometimes I just say things that I don’t mean –”
“Yes.” He cuts me off. Looks into my eyes. “Next week.” I swear there’s emotion in his eyes, like he wants me above all else. I can almost hear him saying it in my head.
“Okay!” My voice trembles a little with emotion. I think about taking his hand and grabbing a bottle of champagne. How nice it would be to sit on a mountain and watch the sun come up together, maybe wrapped in a blanket, me lying in his arms.
He frowns and looks away, as if he can see my thoughts and doesn’t like them. I remember skin cancer and blisters and bite my lip.
I’ve already asked life for too much. I shouldn’t be so greedy.
“Well, I’ll take that lift home,” I say, going for levity. Things feel awkward now, even though we’ve spent another exotic, passionate night together.
“Of course.” He guides me to his Porsche, and as we glide through the pre-dawn streets, nearly empty, lit up just for us, I feel like we’re in a dream…and I never want to wake up.
Chapter 16
Bri
“So, you going to come out with us this Friday?” K. sorts through a rack of vintage T’s. “Dinner, then movie, and it’s the new one you wanted to see. Pick you up at seven?”
“I can’t.” I pull out a pink T-shirt with a huge picture of Julio Iglesias screened onto the front, the graphic cracked in places but still vibrant. “This is so bad it’s good.”
K. flips the tag. “Not for $85, it’s not.” She snorts.
“Come on, you know you love it.” I hold it up to her body. “Try it on.”
We’re in Generation Cool, a funky retro resale shop on 4th Ave. It’s fun to come here in the evenings, when people are strolling, to check out the eclectic shops and cafes.
“So why can’t you come?” K. pushes Julio into my arms and extricates an original Gucci shirt that’s about 8 sizes to large for her small frame. “This one is even more. Jesus.” She shakes her head.
“I have plans.” It’s been a few days since my last tryst with Alain, and he’s all I can think about. My body aches for him, and I can’t wait for Friday…when I get to have him again. The rest of my life seems dull and bland compared to the exquisite moments I spend with him.
“Oh?” K. raises her brow. “With the guy again?” I feel like there’s a little tone of something in her voice.
I ignore the vibe. “Yes, with the guy. Alain.” Just saying his name makes me smile, a little sly grin. “Friday is kind of our night.” It’s been three Fridays so far, each one better than the last.
“When are we going to meet him?” K. puts the Gucci back and turns to look at me.
“Well.” But I don’t answer.
“And why doesn’t he have social media? You know what I think of people who have zero digital footprint.”
She steps closer to me to allow egress for the girl on rollerskates and bright pink hair, who zooms into the propped-open door in shorts so tight they could be paint. A photographer follows close behind, snapping shots as she poses. The worker behind the counter, who gives off random whiffs of faded 420, does not seem bothered in the slightest—apparently this place is cool with pics.
“You think they’re psycho weirdos. I know.” I make a face.
“Why don’t you have even one picture?”
I laugh a little. “He’s really rich, I think. Into finance. Likes his privacy. Kind of old school. Does it matter?”
“Yeah, because I need to see if he’s cute enough for you, duh.” She rolls her eyes. “Seriously, though. Who under the age of eighty-two isn’t online? I mean, my grandma’s got Facebook, and she’s 90.”
I shrug. “Well, he’s about ten years older. And he told me he’s just not into social media. Some people aren’t.”
The truth is, I find it a little odd, too. But when I’m with him, I’m so caught up in the sex and the attraction, the magic of it all, that I don’t care. “Look. You’ve been bugging me forever to find a guy and have some fun. Now that I did, you’re on me about that?”
“So.” K takes a breath, and I get the horrible feeling that she’s about to say something I don’t like. “Are you dating him then, for real?”
I wrap my arms around myself. “No, definitely not.” I try to keep a note of disappointment out of my voice because after all, this is the way I like things. Simple. With an end date. An easy out.
“Uh, okay.” She makes a face. “Just seems like you’re pretty into him, though.”
“Listen, it’s new,” I say. “Too soon for a label. Besides. You know how I feel about long-term relationships.”
“I know.” K reaches out and pats my arm. “That’s part of the reason I’m worried. You’re getting so wrapped up in him. I don’t want you to get hurt if it, you know, ends like your last boyfriends.” She winces as she says it.
“Oh, that’s sweet.” I look at her face, so earnest and kind, and feel a rush of affection. Dear K, my best friend in the world. “What would I do without you?”
“You’d be really sad,” she says immediately. We both laugh.
“Alain is…really awesome.” The word is lame compared to his essence, but I ca
n’t think of a better one. “And once I figure things out, I’ll introduce you. I mean, if we even see each other again. We might not. I don’t even know.”
The thing is, I feel like Alain is temporary, an apparition. Like I’m asleep, having an amazing dream, and if I try to pin him down, poof!—like smoke, he’ll disappear. So I have to sidle up to him, enjoy him for what he is. Not ask for more because I can’t possibly live with less. I’m addicted hard.
“You’ve been different lately.” K looks away from me toward a shelf of vintage Ninja Turtle figures. She picks one up and turns it in her hand.
“I am? How?”
“I don’t know.” She pauses. “Maybe happier. Like you’re more… energetic. But a little bit frantic, too.”
“It’s the hot sex.” I laugh, but she doesn’t.
She continues, “I’m glad you’re happy. Just, take care of yourself.”
“Don’t I always?”
We drop the topic and continue on to the Chocolate Iguana, whose brownies—in my opinion—are almost as good as sex.
Later, though, I think about her words.
I’ve always felt distant from life, as if I’m watching it instead of living it. Ever since my disease was diagnosed and I had to spend less time in the sun, I felt as if I’d retreated from the world.
It’s been years now, and as time goes by, it feels more and more like everyone else is in a movie, and I’m watching. And the distance from me to the screen is growing.
Being with Alain punched through the screen and dragged me into the essence of life. For the first time in forever, I feel vigorously, enjoyably alive. If that reads as frantic, well, who cares?
I like it.
I don’t know how this will end. All I know is that I want to seize it now, while I still can.
Chapter 17
Bri
“Ready to go home?” Alain smiles at me, that gorgeous smile, the one that makes me go weak.
Her Vampire Temptation (Midnight Doms Book 8) Page 12
