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Authors: Nicola Claire

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Giver of Light (31 page)

BOOK: Giver of Light
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Hell no, this was way more exhibitionist than I was prepared to swallow. I fought him, I really did, but it only turned into a game. Every time I tried to cover up, he'd just whip the item away, we went back and forth like that for several minutes, in the end he tossed the offending item in the front seat where there was no way in hell I was reaching over there for it. My yoga pants quickly followed, as did my underwear. The front seat might as well have been a million miles away. I think he was quite please with himself for that one.

“What if we get pulled over by a cop?” I asked, getting more and more breathless. Dammit. I was losing and I knew it.

“Dennis would deal with them.” Another kiss, another nip, another few minutes of distracting me in the dark that shrouded the back seat.

I finally managed one last ditch effort to claim some of my morals and dignity back. “Michel!” I admonished.

“I do love it when you shout my name,
ma douce
, but I would prefer an altogether different tone.” And then he bit, right over the soft skin of my upper thigh, into the large free flowing blood vessel below.

Game over. You lose.

“No fair!” I breathed out, almost in a whimper.

I never play fair when there is something I desperately want.

He let me think about that for a while, as well as the delicious sensations of lust and heat and desire and ownership he sent rushing back down the connection we shared.

Now, how about that different tone, ma douce?

His fingers deftly found their mark, slipping into my already moist core, his thumb easily finding my special nub, rubbing in time to his deep finger penetrations, making me arch off the back seat of the car and forget entirely where I was and who was with us. By the time he'd had his fill of me I was panting and fighting every fibre of my body not to fall off that cliff and give him what he wanted. I would not scream his name.

“Oh, you
are
being difficult,” he whispered and replaced his fingers with his tongue.

Oh sweet Lord, how on Earth did I fight this?

Chapter 30
The Long Kiss Good-Bye

And oh God, I could feel everything. His dark, silky hair splayed out over my naked thigh, his firm fingers digging in to my butt as he raised my rear up to meet him, the leather of the seat against my back, his mouth, his lips, his tongue and his teeth. It felt so damn good and sinful, the dimness in the car, barely any light, save from the occasional passing vehicle, making it feel like a dark little piece out of time. A very naughty, dark little piece out of time.

Michel was determined to make me scream his name and was using every weapon in his arsenal. The speed and precision in which he ravished me; a small lick, then suck, then lick, then oh my god bite, then suck, then lick, was erotic beyond measure. It was driving me insane. The more I refused to scream out, the more intense it became and the more determined he was to make me.

I promised myself I
would
seek revenge.

But there was nothing I could do to stop the orgasm he so faithfully sought out in me. I bucked and shuddered beneath him, swallowed the cry of release, which made me pull back what should have been a mind blowing orgasm into merely a really, really good one, but despite denying him the scream, it was still out of this world and I loved it.

I drifted down from that wonderful high, as he crawled up my body, laying butterfly light kisses across my stomach, up my ribs, over my breasts and into my neck.

“You are so stubborn,” he murmured against me, nuzzling into my hair.

Stubborn huh? We'll see.

He had removed his jacket and tie before we got in the car, so some of the work was already done for me. I made short issue of his shirt, swiftly undoing the buttons and running my hands underneath, along the hard plane of his marble-like chest, receiving a satisfying groan from the back of his throat. He'd obviously been way more affected by my arousal and refusal to give in and scream his name, than he had been letting on.

Lifting my head I licked around his dusky nipple, nipping and sucking it to a little peak, then offered the same attention to the rather neglected one across from it. Michel was either proving a point or simply unable to stop himself, because his vocals were a hell of a lot more audible than mine. He made very sure I knew he was enjoying it. I didn't mind in the slightest. I might have had an issue with drawing attention to myself, but I had no such problem with him screaming out
my
name, that was for sure.

Before I even knew what was happening, he had flipped us and now he lay on the bottom against the leather seats and I was draped across the length of him. Manipulation at its best, but I took advantage of it, all the same.

He helped me remove his shirt and after I had kissed my way down his body, I removed his trousers, boxers and shoes and socks. If I was going to be buck naked, he sure as hell was too. All of his clothes got tossed in the front seat, although I was certain he'd have no qualms reaching over and grabbing them when needed.

After disposing of those, I returned my attention to his body, allowing myself a moment to take in the glorious sight of him. He had a slightly amused look on his face as he lay there watching me look down at him, as though this was exactly what he'd had in mind all along and I had fallen directly into his trap. Of course I had.

Damn him.

No going back now though. I could hardly ignore the excellent example of manhood in front of me, now could I? Lowering myself down between his legs, well out of sight of any stray headlight beam through the windows and began my revenge.

Slow licks around the top of his hard, long erection and then light kisses down the length of it, to end up with his sac in my mouth and an immediate writhe of his body along with a wonderful gasp stolen from his mouth.

I stopped and looked up at him, waiting for him to get himself back under control. His eyes were flashing amethyst and violet by the time he opened them again to look at me.

Once I had his attention again, I repeated the action down the other side of his hard sex, receiving the same response and then a pause to watch the after effects.

“You're teasing,” he managed, when his head came back up and his eyes latched on to mine.

I shrugged and offered a slow smile, licking my lips and catching his look of desire before taking as much of him deep within my mouth as I could manage and getting a nice shout of surprise as he convulsed in pleasure beneath me. His hands came to my head, wrapping his fingers in my hair, encouraging me to continue. I slowly withdrew his length, allowing my teeth to scrape a little down the sides. His fingers fisted, tugging a bit at the strands of my hair, but I didn't care, I knew I had him completely at my mercy now.

I alternated long and deep with short and quick, mixing them up, making it impossible for him to anticipate what I'd do next, what he'd feel next, unable to ride that wave anywhere he wanted it desperately to go. His breathing had become ragged, he hadn't released my hair and finally I think I had broken him, because he let out a moan and in words I barely heard said, “You're driving me crazy,
ma douce
, I have to be inside you.”

I didn't subscribe to that thought, I wanted to see him writhe. So, I doubled my efforts, sucking and nibbling, stroking and fondling, receiving satisfying growls and groans from the back of his throat and the beginnings of slow rolls of his hips. His hand in my hair stayed glued to my head, the other caught in a fist at his side. He was enjoying it, I could tell, but I wanted to see how far he'd let me go.

I was so busy concentrating on getting that final result, I had stopped paying attention to anything else, other than the hard length wrapped in my hand, beneath my tongue and in my mouth. I think I was getting as much pleasure as he was, because although he was still rolling his hips in a way that made me believe he wasn't even aware of what he was doing, I had started writhing above him. Rubbing myself against the length of his leg, grinding him into the seat beneath us. 

A low chuckle competed with his moans of pleasure and in a flash of preternatural speed, he had removed his hand from my hair and placed both hands on my hips, guiding me above him and pressing his hard tip against my sweet centre.

"Hey!" I protested, wanting my lips around his sex again. Wanting to see him lose control.

"I want to be inside you,
ma douce
. I want to watch you come as I spill myself deep within." With those soft, huskily spoken words he lowered me down so slowly onto the tip of him.

He watched my reaction closely, waiting for me to respond. I shuddered above him, closed my eyes and bit my bottom lip, and then he pulled me firmly against his hips, sheathing himself completely inside me.

He groaned, I gasped and we started moving. I couldn't help it. I'd gone from wanting to give him pleasure, wanting to see him lose himself because of my lips and tongue and touch. To wanting, needing, craving my own release and to hell with anything else. A small part of me felt selfish, but he only urged me on with murmured words of encouragement as I ground myself against him. Alternating between lifting up and off his body and then rocking, rubbing back and forward against his hard length.

I lowered myself down to his chest, his arms wrapped protectively, lovingly around me
as we rubbed up and down against each other, his hard length moving so sensually inside me, stretching me wonderfully in all the right directions, making my body beg for more.

"Yes," he whispered, hot breath against my ear. "Oh God, yes. You are so sexy,
ma douce
. Let me bring you to orgasm, let me make you come."

His words were like fuel to the fire, my body was burning with desire, a need so raw. I worked myself against him, allowed my body to hungrily seek that release and worshipped the man beneath me as he worshipped me.

"Oh,
ma douce
." I could tell he was close too. Even though we moved together in a way that surely did more for me than it did him, he was still only just holding on to his own release. Waiting for me to find mine. Giving me the time I needed to crest that wave. Not allowing himself to seek his own final pleasure until he had fully satisfied me.

I knew in that instant that I loved this man beyond any shadow of doubt. And that he loved me. His arms wrapped so lovingly about my body. His breath feathering against my cheek in such sweet caresses. His closeness, his smell, his entire presence about me, making me feel so loved and wanted and safe.

I came with a gasp and low moan. My body breaching that final, beautiful wave and floating back down the other side. He groaned loud against me, pumping himself deep inside, pulling me tightly against his chest and savouring the drawn out moment of his orgasm as though it was a miracle, something he treasured and letting me know that it was me who had given him this precious gift. This moment out of time.

He cradled me against his body, letting the sweat on our skin meld between us. From somewhere he found a blanket and draped it over the top of me, wrapping us up in a warm cocoon. I lay my head down on his chest, just under his chin and listened to his heartbeat, took in the feel of his warm body moulded to mine and allowed the scent of him and our lovemaking to wash around me in the darkened space.

After a few minutes, with his hand running through my hair and down my back, I managed to find my voice.

“I still didn't scream out your name.”

He started laughing and held me tight. “Give me a minute and I can remedy that,
ma douce
.”

I bet he bloody well could too. I raised my head to look out the window to get my bearings. We'd only made it  as far as Huntly, so there was still an hour before we hit Auckland.

“There is still time, my little one and I intend to use every single second of it appropriately.”

I gave up arguing and just snuggled in closer, wrapping my arm and leg over him. I had slid down between him and the back of the seat and felt totally safe and warm and protected.

“How many vampires are going with you?” I asked, taking him by surprise at the change of subject. I don't think he'd wanted to talk about the coming trip to America, but I hadn't been able to stop thinking about it, despite the beautiful distraction he had just provided.

He took a deep breath in and accepted the topic change gracefully. “I have fifty of my line, some already have gone on ahead, some are flying with me. Gregor, Enrique and Alessandra are providing a similar amount and Awan has also sent 30 of the Egyptians to meet us there. We have the numbers and the skills required,
ma douce
. It won't be exactly easy, it never is, but it is more than achievable. I have complete faith in the outcome.”

I was relieved at the figures and even more relieved that Awan had joined the battle as well. The Egyptians were formidable warriors and now that it had been proven that Nosferatins were being held hostage and the Prophesy could be affected, he had finally made that commitment to us. A tenuous alliance, unlike what we had experienced with Egypt's former vampire Queen, Nafrini, but a welcome one all the same.

“Where will you land?”

“We are all arriving by smaller private jets, so have managed to secure an isolated landing strip near Denver. Some of those already in position are spreading out and providing intelligence for us. By the time we land, we will have a very good idea of what we face and where he wants us to battle.”

“He'll be expecting you and have a location already in mind, won't he?” I couldn't help feeling they were walking into a trap, but what could we do? Jonathan held all the cards, not to mention all of the Nosferatins too.

“Yes, we will only find what he wants us to find, but we are not inexperienced in this type of warfare,
ma belle
, all of us have fought calls to arm before.”

“But not fought Jonathan.”

“No. Not Jonathan.” His hands started roaming over my body again, his face nuzzling into my hair. I knew he was trying to distract me, to make me think of something much more pleasant than the risks ahead, the possible deaths that might occur, the loss of so many.

He'd have to work harder.

He laughed out loud at that thought. “I can work harder,
ma douce,
” he murmured, shifting position so he was looking down at me, still to the side, but allowing me more room to lie on my back. There's a surprisingly large amount of space in a Land Rover Discovery 4's back seat.

This time he took it even slower, so very, very slow. As though he was discovering my body for the very first time. Or maybe, the very last.

“Shush. Don't think that,” he whispered against my lips, then kissed me, so carefully, so perfectly, so softly.

His hands painted beautiful pictures on my body, his fingers trailing patterns across my skin, his lips lighting a path in their wake. It was wonderful, sublime, splendid and I never wanted it to end.

By the time we joined body to body, in a slow languid movement, his whispered words of
you are mine
floating away into the ether, the world had stopped moving around us, nothing mattered but here and now, him and me, this moment, this sensation, this union of two bodies and hearts and souls. I loved this man with every single part of me, the realisation of how deeply ingrained that was in my soul making tears slowly seep out from my eyes and trail down my cheeks, to be swiftly caught by Michel's lips and tongue and hot, hot breath.

BOOK: Giver of Light
13.06Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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