Angel at Dawn (31 page)

Read Angel at Dawn Online

Authors: Emma Holly

Tags: #Ghost stories, #Vampires, #Horror, #Paranormal, #Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal romance stories, #Motion picture producers and directors, #Occult fiction, #Ghosts, #Occult & Supernatural, #Love stories

BOOK: Angel at Dawn
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“Grace,” he gasped, sensation spangling through him from scalp to cock. In seconds, even the soles of his feet tingled.
Grace let go and sat up. Material rustled. He turned to find her removing her man’s-style pajama top. She hadn’t unbuttoned it. She was simply peeling it over her head. Her lush breasts jiggled in the light that shone out through her cracked bathroom door.
“Maybe you shouldn’t do this,” he said weakly. His tongue swept around his fully erected fangs, his mouth watering violently. Her nipples were as pink and swollen as candy. “You’re not really awake. And you never ate dinner.”
Without leaving the covers, she began squirming out of her pajama bottoms. They and her panties flew across the room in short order.
“You can’t convince me you don’t want to,” she said.
Because she was right, he moaned, not giving a damn that he tore off his own clothes much too quickly.
“How
do
you—”
His mouth cut off her foolish question by covering hers. He rolled her beneath his weight with a gratitude so deep it didn’t seem natural. The kiss was delicious but delicate—a necessity due to the state of his fangs. He had to back off when her enthusiasm threatened to draw her own blood. He didn’t want to feed from her when she was so tired.
Other pleasures were too tempting to resist. He kneed her silky thighs apart as her hands found his hips. He loved that they both were naked, skin to skin under her covers. The gentle curve of her stomach rose and fell with her excitement, intermittently touching his blood-filled cock. From the way her fingers rubbed his hip bones, from the way they slid around and caressed the crease between his thighs and ass, he could tell she liked touching him.
“Wrap your legs around me,” he said.
The order was guttural, but she didn’t seem to mind. Her heat as she hooked her ankles tentatively behind his butt was something to revel in.
To his mind, her showgirl’s legs were exactly where they belonged.
“Like that?” she asked.
“Just like that,” he growled.
He didn’t have to guide himself. The weighty head of his cock was the most sensitive part of him, born to home in on her wetness. She gasped as he entered her, her hands fluttering to his shoulders where they got a good grip on his muscles. This wasn’t the only place she held him securely. Sleep had left her body pliant, but her pussy was slick and tight, and his prick pressed inward only in slow surges. Her calf muscles urged him to ignore the resistance. He bit his own lip when he reached the sweet end of her.
When he put a bit of extra push behind his penetration, she had a mini-orgasm.
The added lubrication drew his fingers, and then his fingers found the wild pulsing of her clit. He knew the precise force with which to squeeze and roll this treasure.
“Chris,” she cried, her neck arching hard.
At that display, his cock and fangs tried to lengthen. His cock he let have its way. He closed his eyes and began to rock: short jabbing thrusts that had them both gasping with pleasure. This was lucky, because Christian couldn’t rein in his reactions. After two hours of lying beside her with a granite-hard cockstand, restraint was too much to ask. Sensation screamed through him as he worked his prick into her pussy. Her heat and tightness did the job he needed. He came in under half a minute, spurting hard and groaning at the sharpness of his relief. He might not have impressed Grace with his control, but he’d had to take the edge off or risk doing things he’d regret.
In any case, he was pretty far from having taken his fill of her.
“Oh,” she said, a sound of pleased surprise as he kept on going right afterward. She’d come herself and her sheath was still rippling. Her body was softer than when they’d started, allowing him a fuller range of motion. Her hips gave a squirming wriggle, her telltale request for more.
“Longer strokes?” he offered, his breathing more ragged than hers was.
“Yes,” she said, planting her feet firmly on the mattress. “Please.”
He could tell she meant to help, which was fine with him. He threw off the covers, wedged one arm underneath her waist, and with the other got a firm grip on her headboard.
She cried out as he began to thrust at a slightly faster-than-human pace. This, evidently, was what she’d been longing for.
The bed frame protested, but neither of them cared. Her hands slid up and down his chest, his lift above her giving her room for it. He wondered if she knew she was a natural sensualist. Her delight in what she was doing was as obvious as it was charming. He choked something wordless when her thumbs searched out the place he was driving in and out of her. The whorled ridges on their pads pressed his shaft as it slid past them, adding friction to nerves already drowning in pleasure. He couldn’t go quite as deep with her hands there, but it didn’t matter. The idea that she wanted to feel him penetrating her had his blood boiling.
Possibly she mistook the strain on his face. “Is this okay?” she panted, her touch inching unsurely back.
He fought not to grit his teeth. “Yes,” he said, determined not to release his hold on either her bottom or the headboard. “I love . . . the feel of your fingers there.”
She put them back and got her assurance soon enough. This time, he took five whole minutes to explode. To his delight, she nipped his shoulder as she stiffened and came, too.
Perhaps unwisely, he opened his eyes again. He couldn’t regret it, though it did make his fangs sting within his gums. Grace’s post-orgasmic beauty was quite a sight. Her very human full-body flush could have unhinged him all by itself. He’d craved this so much when he was mortal, just to
stay
physical with her. Now it was even better. Because he was more than mortal, their energy was blending, each one’s pleasure pushing the other’s. He doubted he could have a climax without triggering one of hers—reason enough to let himself be greedy.
Happily, Grace was greedy, too. She’d slowed when they came, but she hadn’t stopped.
“
God.
” He grunted at how good she felt thrusting back at him. “I could do this all night, every night, with you.”
She clutched his waist in hot hands, agreeing with her body. His tension rising, he rolled her on top of him.
“You can do it,” he said when her mouth fell open. “It’s no harder than sitting on a horse.”
“Oh, sure,” she said, rolling her eyes and laughing.
The laugh told him she’d be fine. She pushed up tentatively at first but soon was riding him as gamely as any rodeo cowgirl. She hummed with approval as his cock pressed different places inside of her. Her enjoyment was as good as flipping a switch for him, even if her rhythm was uneven. This was going to be the climax that finished him. He could feel that down to his bones. When he saw the way her breasts bounced, he had to jack up his torso and suckle them. Her nipples tightened silkily on his tongue, her areolae compressed between his fangs. Clearly liking this, she tunneled her fingers into his hair, keeping him close to her.
If he hadn’t wanted to bite her so badly, he could have stayed like that for a while.
They both made noises of regret when he wrenched his mouth away. Perhaps inspired by the pleasure she’d felt, Grace’s hands wandered from his shoulders to his nipples. They were smaller than hers but sharp. Goose bumps broke out across his skin at her firmness in rubbing them.
“You like that, too,” she said.
He liked everything she did, which made him ask himself if maybe she felt the same. “Do you trust me, Grace?”
His eyes were starry and not fearful. She nodded with a shyness that every beastly thing inside him found arousing.
“Maybe you shouldn’t
always
trust me,” he said with a shaky laugh.
“Maybe I won’t,” she teased breathlessly.
It was as good as a challenge and had him casting off caution. He drove his tongue into her mouth, tweaked her nipples, and slid his fingers into her creamy folds. He painted his hand in her wetness, giving her pleasure even as he prepared himself.
Grace flung her hair back and bit her lip. He nuzzled her throat, then groaned with longing as he licked it.
“You make me shiver when you do that,” she said.
He couldn’t answer. Still rocking into her as she rode him, he played her clit with the fingers of his left hand. The fingers of his right he moved into place behind her. She tensed but didn’t stop him as he pushed his longest into her anus.
She caught her breath, started to speak. He licked up her throat and made her shiver again.
“I know,” he said, nose to nose with her. “Most people don’t do this. We can do what we like, though. As long as we think it’s pleasurable.”
He rotated his knuckle inside that nerve-rich passage and watched her eyes go glassy. Her pussy got wetter, its muscles closing in on his shaft. Caught in that grip, his cock grew so hard it hurt.
“Let me handle thrusting into you,” he rasped. “All I want you to do is concentrate on what you’re feeling.”
It was no trouble for him to lift her and roll them both up onto their knees. Her thighs wrapped his hips as he slid a second finger into her. From that position, he had more leverage, which he took full advantage of. Grace’s moans were all the praise he needed. It might have been his imagination; they weren’t linked mind to mind, but he thought he sensed a shadow of the delights that ran riot inside of her. All these nerves he stimulated were connected, spreading out and deepening the effect of him fucking her.
He knew the moment she decided it was all right to enjoy what he was doing. Her breasts pressed closer, her bent arms plastered tight around his shoulders.
“Oh,” she gasped, wriggling her hips back and forward as if she wanted more penetration everywhere. “Oh, my God, Christian.”
He gave her what she seemed to crave: more fingering, more deep, rolling thrusts of his pelvis that increased in speed until her exhalations changed into high thin cries. The only hard part was that he was feeling even more than she was. It was the nature of his nerves to register the smallest sensations.
He clung to the edge for her, his balls practically cramping with desire. If he bit her, she would go over. Her scent was high with sex, with the salty sweat that beaded up on her skin. His face was buried in the crook of her neck, his lips peeled back from his fangs with need.
“Christian,” she begged, his desperation catching. “Go harder.”
Doing what she wanted pulled a snarl from his throat. His cock was clamped on his ejaculation, coming and not coming at the same time. He couldn’t deny his other instincts. His lips locked onto her skin and sucked.
Grace went over with a loud gasp for air.
The flaring of her aura toppled him with her. The climax shot from him, thick and hot. He came until he groaned with it, until his muscles melted with lassitude. Sated, his cock finally softened inside of her.
“Grace,” he murmured as she weakly petted his hair. His arms were locked around her, unwilling to let her go.
“My goodness, you
are
a stallion,” she said.
“Would that make you my mare?” he teased.
She blushed, which he thought was adorable. To his amazement, he saw he hadn’t bitten her, only left a somewhat gruesome hickey on the side of her neck. He kissed it gently better, sending his healing energy into her.
He crooned with pleasure as her discomfort eased.
“Now
you’ll
sleep,” she said with no small hint of smugness.
He liked seeing her victorious as much as he liked her shy. He smoothed her sweaty hair away from her face, relishing the heat and pulse of her skin.
“I will if you will,” he promised her.
Fifteen
Y
ou mean I don’t get to die?” Matthew asked plaintively.
When Grace realized Miss Wei still hadn’t broken the news about the change in the script, she’d ordered everyone but Matthew out of the makeup trailer. Those replacement pages were slated to shoot that afternoon. Whatever Miss Wei was thinking—if she was thinking at all—she absolutely could not drop this anvil on Matthew in front of the cast and crew.

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