Better Off Red (24 page)

Read Better Off Red Online

Authors: Rebekah Weatherspoon

Tags: #! Yes

BOOK: Better Off Red
5.15Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

• 177 •

reBekah WeatherspOOn

grinding her face harder between my legs, taking every bit of my trembling into her body.

With one more slow, sweeping pass of her tongue, Camila silently rose up to her knees. There was no warning and no hesitating. The cock between her hips pushed inside me with one sharp thrust, my dripping juices easing the way. My eyes slammed shut. I gripped the sheets. The cock fit perfectly inside me, the same firm way Camila felt perfect on top of me.

She pulled back a little then pushed forward again, pausing just for a moment when my body decided to roll its hips. My pussy spasmed along the firm plastic and spasmed again when I thought of who it was attached to. My eyes fluttered open and I stared at her beautiful face.

I love you, I wanted to say, but I didn’t. “Kiss me,” I said instead. She answered by pressing her lips against mine. My mouth parted and she entered me again, kissing me the way I needed her to, letting me taste the traces of myself on her lips. She was like honey and sweet fruit with that hint of spice I’d been craving all along. My arms wrapped around her shoulders and her arms came around my back. I arched off the mattress giving her plenty of room to unhook my bra. I let go just long enough to slip it from my arms, and then she was lifting me.

“Ride me,” she said as she fell back on her heels.

I nodded, wrapping my body around hers and the cock. I followed her motions, rising and falling, grinding in her lap. She took advantage of the shift between us and suckled my nipple between her red lips. And then I lost it. She let go of my nipple the second I started coming and gently cupped the side of my neck. She thrust up into my pussy harder and harder and I came again. This time I moaned her name.

“Baby,” she growled deeply as I shuddered against her. My head tilted to the side. I gave her my neck. Her bite was hard. Hard and perfect, the cool sting sending thundering shocks through my veins to every inch of my body. I came again, crying out desperately, soaking the leather in her lap and the insides of my thighs.

• 178 •

Better Off red

Her head dropped to my breast as her own orgasm rippled over her. She cried out, groaning my name, licking my damp skin around my ruby and my chain, kissing and biting at my nipples, refusing to slow the pumping of her hips. And I kept riding her, harder, neither of us willing to stop even as she added a finger to the equation.

She may not have been in love with me, but I was in love with her, and the same way my blood was in her, she was now inside me, inside my heart in every way, making me come over and over.

There were no thoughts of where the morning would take us, but as she gently used her middle finger, soaked in my juices, to tease the tight ring of my ass, I couldn’t help but wonder where the security cameras were in the penthouse and just how well they were capturing the show on the bed.

When there was time, I’d love to see the playback.

• 179 •

• 180 •

Better Off red

Chapter ten

There’s a heart here.” Her fingers brushed across my shoulder blade. “And if I squint, there’s a frog right here.”

And then in a small circle at the top of my spine.

“But only if you squint?”

“Precisely.”

I giggled, unable to control the tremble that rippled through my body. Her fingers moved up and down my back, across my shoulder and my neck, and back again.

There were only a few hours left before sunrise, hours I refused to waste sleeping. Camila had fucked me perfectly one more time before giving me a break to stretch and hydrate. At some point, we decided an ice cream sundae was in order. She called downstairs and what felt like a whole minute later, Camila returned from the elevator carrying a huge bowl on a silver tray. I complained for a moment that it was too big for me to eat alone, but quit arguing when she made a very seductive move to feed me the sugary dessert.

It’s hard to turn someone down when they lick your lips.

Our little dessert break left me cranked up all over again. My pussy pulsed and clenched with every sloppy spoonful she brought to my mouth. She intentionally made a mess, letting me lick the chocolate syrup and whipped cream from her fingers. The sugar rush led to a laughing fit that somehow gave me the bright idea to actually try to screw Camila with the strap-on. That plan came up short the moment she pulled the straps around my hips.

• 181 •

reBekah WeatherspOOn

Something about seeing me in the new leather set off the beast in Camila’s brain. One moment I was standing at the foot of the bed looking down as her confident hands secured the harness on my body, and the next I was on my back on the floor, Camila’s head buried between my legs. Annoyed that she hadn’t even let me try the pink dildo out, I actually put up a fight. Which was pretty stupid.

She gripped my hips tighter and drew the length of her fang down the side of my clit. My back shot up off the marble floor and my orgasm shuddered through my body. Momentary blindness didn’t keep me from feeling my juices gushing over her tongue and chin.

She pulled away, not bothering to ease me down from the high peak she put me on. As soon as I could see straight, I pounced on her. She let me take her to the floor. I wasn’t surprised how easily her legs fell open. She let me in, letting me taste her for the first time. I almost came again the second my tongue lapped across her hardened clit. She tasted so sweet, just like her strong scent mixed with honey.

She had been so commanding and so dominating when we’d been together, even though I wanted to badly, I never thought to go down on her without explicit instructions to do just that. But she hadn’t even flinched to stop me. She opened herself to me, letting my clumsy lips and fingers explore the tight warmth of her gorgeous slit. I admired every bit of skin, the stiff length of her clit, every crevasse. So soft and wet. I knew it wasn’t all my doing, but I was pleased when she came, psyched when she began rolling her hips harder against my face until she fell apart, gripping and soaking my fingers. She’d taken no time to come back down. She hopped to her feet, still panting and purring, and led me back to the bed. And for an hour, we lay there talking and touching.

I thought falling for Camila that first night we’d spent together had been a mistake. Even having a crush on an immortal creature like her had seemed like a bad idea. Finally feeling her react to me, tasting her as she came apart because of something I had done, threw my priorities completely out of whack. Now the part of my world that mattered the most existed at night. School was still important.

I wanted my degree and I wanted to make my parents proud. Lying

• 182 •

Better Off red

in the curve of her hips, my cheek resting on her warm breast made the real world, the one I belonged to, seem so unimportant and so far away. No part of me wanted to go back to the ABO house, back to school or my life. I just wanted to spend forever lying with her.

I got the distinct feeling Camila felt the same way. She was stalling, breaking in her story as often as possible, using the freckles along my back and arms as an excuse.

“This one looks like a bunny,” she whispered against my hair.

I yawned then nuzzled her pert nipple with the corner of my mouth. “You’ll have to show me tomorrow. Tell me more about your maker.”

Finally she gave in. She picked up her tale where she’d left off, but kept up the soothing strokes along my back. I never wanted to move again.

For as long as anyone in her family could remember, Abrah had lived in a system of caves just north of the Sierra Norte de Oaxaca mountain range in Southern Mexico. I listened as Camila described the beauty of the region. It was impossible to ignore the adoration in her voice when she talked about the mountains and lush valleys she’d explored as a child.

An hour before, all I knew about Mexico involved escalating drug violence, tales of dangerous border crossings, and of course the ongoing debate over Cabo versus Jamaica for spring break. I pictured Camila, in a different time and place, a completely different person from the one who lay underneath me in the sheets.

Her village had been small, but a true community that lived peacefully between the mountains and the river. The nearest town was a considerable walking distance, but news had always reached them. There had been devastating changes to the country and there was always the fear that outsiders would stumble across their small haven in the wilderness and interrupt their pleasant lives. The head of the village had taken care to reassure his people that the outside world would never be a threat. Their village was too remote. And then there was their protector. Abrah, a true demon or a demon-bourne as Camila explained it, one of only seven to escape from the bonds of hell.

• 183 •

reBekah WeatherspOOn

The tale of Angel de las Cuevas had spread all over the land north and south of the mountains, but only the members of Camila’s village knew just how real their Angel of the Caves was.

His relationship with her people was very different from the relationship the girls and I shared with the sister-queens. There was still a sense of ceremony. When every member of the village reached adulthood, they were first presented to Abrah, then to the village for marriage. But everything else was different. Abrah never took human form, living his life in the mountains as a full demon.

When he emerged to feed, he never hid the crowned horns of his head or his majestic black wings. And he never slept with any of his humans. Anatomically, it wouldn’t have worked, but his fangs still gave the cold shock of ecstasy.

“He could sense our physical pleasure and our pain,” she said, explaining why she’d never asked me to touch her. I practically came from looking at her. The orgasms-by-contact she must have received just from feeding would keep anyone sexually gratified.

Forever.

Camila was a late bloomer, the youngest of six children, the only girl among five boys. Her grandfather had been a green-eyed Scottish missionary who had been separated from his group. He stumbled upon the village one rainy morning, and after he realized they had absolutely no interest in killing him, decided to stay. He took a wife, a young widow. A generation later, Camila had arrived, hazel-eyed, and as I imagined, just as perfect as I saw her now.

Her first encounter with Abrah had been typical, but as time passed, it became clear to everyone in the village that Camila was his favorite. He always socialized on his visits down from the mountains, but his main purpose was to feed. On the night of her wedding to Lino, the young man who had won her hand, Abrah was there with gifts and well wishes. It was the first time he’d appeared for such an event.

“He came back the night I found out I was pregnant.”

My head snapped up. “You had kids?”

She nodded with a soft, sad smile.

• 184 •

Better Off red

Camila had given birth early in the spring. The very same day the developers first approached the head of the village, demanding he take his people elsewhere. Their homes sat directly in the path they wanted to take to the river and further on to the ocean.

“The place was no bigger than a city block,” Camila said.

“But they wanted you out.”

“They wanted the land, the trees, and uninterrupted access to the river.” Something they would go to extreme lengths to get.

The head of the village had sent the men away, telling Camila’s family and the families of her friends and neighbors not to worry about the intruders. They celebrated the arrival of Camila’s children, twin boys viewed as a blessing for the whole village, two males who would grow into strong and proud men. Camila and Lino lived their lives blissfully for three more years, raising their sons in peace and willingly serving Abrah.

Camila paused for a moment. I fought the urge to ask, “Then what happened,” like some foolish little kid. She sighed and went on without any prodding from me.

In the three years she’d had with her family, the developer’s company had made the decision to clear out the village and take the land. They had heeded the warning from a neighboring town. They may not have believed in the myth of Angel de las Cuevas, but they were smart enough to plan their ambush for high noon, a time when the men were away from the village, the women and children at their most vulnerable as their demon protector, if he actually existed, slept. She found out later that two groups had been sent out: one to surround and burn the village, the other to round up and slaughter all the men out in the forest.

Camila had been by the river, gathering water, when she first heard the screams and smelled the smoke. She made it to the edge of their clearing as the shots that killed her boys rang out. She had never thought twice about leaving them with their grandmother, but suddenly she wished they’d never left her side. She ran to them anyway, ignoring the shouts of the men brandishing torches and rifles. She described the scene to me, the fire and the blood and bodies everywhere, but I could hardly picture it.

• 185 •

reBekah WeatherspOOn

She’d been shot in the back at the entrance to her parents’

home. The blow had knocked her to the ground. A thick-heeled boot to the head had knocked her out. The fire burning through her clothes ripped her back to reality sometime around dusk. I shuddered uncontrollably against her as she said the words.

“If you can avoid it, Red, I don’t recommend being set on fire.”

She looked at me, trying just as I would have, to make light of the situation.

“I’ll do my best.”

She took a deep breath and went on.

She’d been placed at the edge of a pile of bodies and lit on fire along with them. She forced herself to ignore the choking smell of burning flesh, her own flesh and that of her loved ones, and managed to roll away from the heap. She put out the flames that had begun to engulf her by rolling in the blood soaked dirt. With her senses better under control, she could finally hear voices in the distance, voices she ignored. She knew her husband was dead, knew her sons were somewhere in the flaming heap. Heartbroken and in searing pain, her body made decisions she didn’t think to override as she crawled to the edge of the forest, toward the caves.

Other books

El séptimo hijo by Orson Scott Card
Go Ask Alice by Beatrice Sparks
Perv (Filth #1) by Dakota Gray
A Heaven of Others by Cohen, Joshua
Desert Rose by Laura Taylor
The Paris Librarian by Mark Pryor