Authors: Joey W Hill
Tags: #Vampires, #Horror, #Paranormal, #General, #Romance, #Fantasy, #Erotic Fiction, #Erotica, #Fiction, #Occult & Supernatural
Vampire Instinct (26 page)
All mine.
The words came on a wind gusting through her as he withdrew enough to surge back in and stroke that part of her waiting for one electric touch of friction, a detonator.
The words came on a wind gusting through her as he withdrew enough to surge back in and stroke that part of her waiting for one electric touch of friction, a detonator.
“Oh . . .” Her mouth convulsed against his, as a similar involuntary reaction took over her body. “Mal . . .”
“Come for me, Elisa. Let me hear you scream. Grip my cock as hard as you can.”
Without thinking, she did, muscles spasming around him as he went to a long thrust and retreat, something that dragged against that part of her that was overtaking all the rest, making her nails dig into his bare shoulders, her upper body coming off the ground to bury her face into his throat. She sank her teeth into his pectoral as he palmed the back of her head in one large hand and rocked with her, pumping deep and hard, making her feel the strength of every thrust, muscles rippling under her hands.
It was astounding, incredible, a taste of what Heaven had to be, this divine euphoria, yet so close to the earth, so visceral she wanted to taste his blood and flesh as she experienced it.
She also wanted him to release, wanted to feel the flood of his seed inside of her. It was something she’d never thought about wanting. She wanted to feel his heat and life coming into her. Vampire babies were so rare, vampires never used protection, because if a baby was conceived, it was always a treasured miracle. So she could feel him come into her without serious worry of that. Not that anything was worrying her at the moment.
In fact, all thought deserted her as he did climax, and the pressure of him jetting against still-spasming tissues sent her over another precipice, even higher than what she’d been experiencing. She did scream, over and over, the feeling too much for her to have any restraint. When she caught a glimpse of his face, it was rigid with his own pleasure . . . and the fierce satisfaction of pure male possession.
She didn’t quite know what to say when they’d caught their breath, or what to do, but he helped her on both counts. Sliding next to her on the grass, he turned her so she was spooned inside the shape of his body, his breath on her neck. She folded both her hands around his one, a loose tangle of fingers against her breasts, his thumb idly tracing the curve within his range. Nothing really needed to be said, right? It wasn’t a moment to profess undying love. She had no expectations. Things inside of her were quiet, exhausted, girlish yearnings and romantic ideas muted by pure physical satiation. She found it wasn’t an unpleasant place to be.
What girlish yearnings would those be, Irish flower?
He pressed his mouth to her throat, and she let the thrill of it unfold lazily inside of her, the promise of more desire, more mindlessness.
He pressed his mouth to her throat, and she let the thrill of it unfold lazily inside of her, the promise of more desire, more mindlessness.
“Don’t,” she whispered. “Just let this moment be . . . what it is. Please?”
He held his mouth there, his arms tightening around her, but he said nothing more, inside or out. At length, though, he rose, pulling his trousers back on. She was modest enough to lie curled on her side, but hungry enough to tilt her head to watch him, the play of muscle and limb, the gleam of moonlight on his skin. The way his genitals looked, cupped briefly in his hand before he tucked them back into the jeans. He hadn’t been wearing underwear, either.
He retrieved her nightgown, which was good, because she wasn’t sure where to start looking, and was a bit shy about getting up in the altogether and striding about to look for it. A smile touched his firm mouth, but he dropped to one knee and slid an arm beneath her, keeping the nightgown slung over his shoulder as he lifted her.
“Leave it,” he said, as she tried to pull the edge of the gown over her. “I want to look at you.”
He did, all the way back into the house, down the halls and then up the steps to her bedroom. Laying her on the mattress, he took a seat next to her, placing a hand on her thigh.
“Part them for me, Elisa,” he commanded, and she obeyed, with a tremor that darkened those beautiful, long-lashed eyes as they gazed upon her. Threading his fingers in the damp curls, he made an idle pass over the sensitized flesh beneath, registering her indrawn breath, the additional quiver in her limbs.
“Did you like this? What we did?”
“You know I did. You’re in my mind, after all.”
“I’m in your mind. Not in your heart. When it comes to this, for women it’s in the heart.”
“But not for men. God’s cruel joke.”
He looked up at her then, but she didn’t want to be sad. Didn’t want to feel empty and alone after something so magnificent and overwhelming. So she pushed down whatever was trying to rear its ugly head and rose on her elbows. Gathering her courage, she curled her arm around his neck and pressed her mouth to his, perhaps a little too strongly, too fast, but she was afraid she’d appear stupid or be rebuffed.
Instead, his arm slid around her waist, tightening her against him so she could feel his bare chest against her breasts, the lean hardness of him. He persuaded her mouth to open, teaching her, and engaged in a complex choreography with her tongue, tangling with his until she was pressing harder, more insistently, against him. She wanted him inside again. When he was there, lying upon her, his cock deep between her legs, she felt sheltered against storms she’d never truly feared until that one terrible night. Tonight underscored how that one incident had changed how she viewed everything in her life. Made her angry and afraid, restless and needy at once. When he’d taken her down, she’d given it all to him, and he’d used it, used her up. Left her quiet. She liked quiet.
He eased her back, going with her until her head touched the pillow; then he broke contact, though he did it gently, cradling her face in strong hands, holding her there. “You need to sleep,
atsilusgi
. Sleep. Tomorrow is the same as any other day.”
atsilusgi
. Sleep. Tomorrow is the same as any other day.”
“Wh-what does that mean? What you just called me.” His very command lifted her exhaustion up like a wave that immersed the burgeoning desire, taking her down into a pleasant lassitude. He kept stroking her a long time without answering, such that she finally started drifting off to sleep.
However, her last memory was of his fingers slipping reluctantly away from hers, and his answer in her head, this man who Kohana said never spoke his mother’s language, yet had spoken it to her twice in the same day.
Flower.
16
S
HE wasn’t entirely sure how things would go on the following night, and was already telling herself not to act like a ninny. But as she cut tomatoes at the kitchen counter, helping Kohana handle the fixings for the meal planned later in the evening, she kept listening for his voice. Some of the staff were in the front room, but several were in the kitchen, grazing on the things that they were able to snatch from Kohana. When she wasn’t worrying and flustered over Mal’s arrival, she was enjoying the close quarters, the way the men picked on one another and her as they jostled around to snatch bits of bread and roast beef off the counter. Chumani sat on the center island, trying to distract Kohana with her usual vinegar-and-sugar barbs. Elisa could tell Kohana was fully aware of the ploy, and thwarted some of the more aggressive attempts easily.
HE wasn’t entirely sure how things would go on the following night, and was already telling herself not to act like a ninny. But as she cut tomatoes at the kitchen counter, helping Kohana handle the fixings for the meal planned later in the evening, she kept listening for his voice. Some of the staff were in the front room, but several were in the kitchen, grazing on the things that they were able to snatch from Kohana. When she wasn’t worrying and flustered over Mal’s arrival, she was enjoying the close quarters, the way the men picked on one another and her as they jostled around to snatch bits of bread and roast beef off the counter. Chumani sat on the center island, trying to distract Kohana with her usual vinegar-and-sugar barbs. Elisa could tell Kohana was fully aware of the ploy, and thwarted some of the more aggressive attempts easily.
They were a family. Of course, unlike a family, when they’d all come in earlier, there’d been no speculative looks, nothing that indicated they knew what had transpired on the grass outside, though there was no way no one had heard or seen. At first, their apparent courtesy soothed her, but then she started thinking about it. Was it so usual for Mal to ravish a human guest out on the lawn that it wasn’t worth one mortifying sidelong glance?
See, she was acting like a ninny already.
For Heaven’s sake, he’s known you for two days. How do you think he’s going to act?
Vampire, human. Capital Vampire, lowercase human. He wasn’t a lover, a beau or anything else. Just like the staff, he likely wouldn’t act any differently around her. Except that he might decide to ravish her again, which she already knew she’d embrace, no matter how ashamed it made her.
For Heaven’s sake, he’s known you for two days. How do you think he’s going to act?
Vampire, human. Capital Vampire, lowercase human. He wasn’t a lover, a beau or anything else. Just like the staff, he likely wouldn’t act any differently around her. Except that he might decide to ravish her again, which she already knew she’d embrace, no matter how ashamed it made her.
Hearing his voice in the front room, she jerked, her cheeks flushing before she could prevent the reaction. She kept her head ducked down, her eyes on the tomatoes, telling herself to act completely normal, never mind he could certainly sense the turmoil in her mind.
Fortunately, he was busy. He laid out the night’s work schedule, mentioned that they had two lions being flown in tonight. They would be checked over and then put in the western area to stretch their legs. After he sent the hands on their way, he turned to Kohana. Realizing it would look peculiar if she kept her gaze so studiously averted, she raised her head, holding the knife at rest.
He wore the usual khaki cargo trousers and a close-fitting T-shirt tonight, but now she was hyperaware of the body beneath the clothes. Her hand had clasped the hard biceps, small fingers overlaying the barbed wire and feather design of his tattoo. His hair was brushed back into a short queue, emphasizing the precise line of his jaw, the hawklike nose and defined cheekbones. But she’d dug her fingers into that wild mane, held on as he shattered her. Had he bathed at dawn, rubbing the damp stickiness of her body from his cock?
She had no idea what he’d just said to Kohana, but now those dark brown eyes shifted to her. “You’ll stay in the house with Kohana for the first part of the night, while we deal with the lions. If that goes well, I’ll be back to get you later. I’ll radio in.”
He was . . . the way he’d always been toward her. Unpredictable. Grumpy or showing her a glimpse of humor. One moment distant, the next not even a breath between their bodies. Only now, distant or far, her body was singing for that touch, taut with anticipation. She managed a nod. “Yes, sir.”
He lifted a brow, then turned, headed out the front. A few moments later, she heard the Jeep start up and leave the yard. When it did, she let out a shuddering breath, turned back to the tomatoes. She was cognizant of Kohana’s scrutiny, his grunt, a commentary hard to interpret.
Ninny. She was a total ninny.
She attacked the job of scrubbing all the wood floors in the house, something that hadn’t been done in some time. As she did that, she gave herself a far sterner lecture about vampires. They took when they wanted to take, and when they didn’t, you waited on their pleasure. She’d begged him to take last night, and he had. It would be up to him to set the pace of what this was.
She closed her eyes, pushing a damp curl from her sweaty face. God in Heaven, did he know how hungry she was for more, so ravenous that she felt dizzy with it if she thought too long or hard upon it? As she pushed the brush back and forth, both hands clasped on it, all she could think about was the movement of her body. What if he came up behind her, and her jerking rhythm was caused by something else, his thrusting into her?
If love wasn’t part of it, then so much the better. Her cracked heart couldn’t handle that yet. While she knew she wanted a family, home and babies, vampires didn’t do that. In his world, her shameless behavior wasn’t condemned, and maybe what he gave her would help her heal, so she could pursue that domestic dream once more. While she’d be here until things were resolved with the fledglings, she wouldn’t be here forever. Eventually she’d go back to the station, another reason there was no point to imagining this as far more than it was.
“You’re going to strip the finish off those floors, you keep doing that.”
She jumped, then gave a nervous half laugh. Sitting back on her heels, she swiped at her forehead with the point of her wrist, and eyed Kohana, feeling the ache in her shoulders. “That’s not finish; that’s grime. I think these were originally bleached pine wood.”
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