She straightened slowly. Stepping back, she thrust her hands through her hair and piled it on top of her head. Arching her back, Vash posed like a ’50s pinup.
He breathed roughly, his hands fisting around the ends of the armrests. “My god, Vashti…”
It was the note of awed pleasure in his voice that pierced her, slicing through her defenses to strike the tender places within. A shiver moved through her.
“You’re so damn gorgeous,” he growled. “Lush and curvy. Fucking perfect. And you’re so strong. Strong and tough.”
There was possession in the way he spoke. And she relished that, which confused her. She was a woman who took care of herself. Always had been. Char had known that about her and hadn’t been territorial. She had a job to do, one that outranked his, and he’d stayed to the side and let her do it, following her commands when she gave them to him. That’s what she needed from her mate, what she wanted…Support. Acceptance.
Yet Elijah’s dominant streak turned her on like crazy.
Turning slowly, she hid how shaken she was by presenting him with her back.
“Come closer. Back up to me,” he ordered, reminding her that he’d never stand to the side. He would always require her surrender, even as he praised and admired her strength and toughness.
His splayed hand caressed the length of her back, gentling her. “Bend over.”
Knowing how exposed she’d be in the position he wanted her in, she leaned forward slowly, widening the spread of her legs to better support her canted weight. His hands cupped the backs of her thighs in the crease just below the curve of her buttocks. His thumbs rubbed gently over the lips of her sex, parting her, opening her to his gaze.
“Mmm…you’re wet and soft already.”
She swallowed hard, then bit her lip to stifle a moan. His breath fanned hot and humid over her most sensitive flesh. Her hands went to her knees, adding support to keep her from toppling onto her face.
“I’ll make you wetter,” he promised darkly, the moment before he licked leisurely across her swollen cleft.
She gasped, the sound overly loud in the quiet room. It was exciting to be willing and ready for him. Bereft of control.
His tongue swiped over her again. The texture was rougher than before, like wet velvet, and the reach longer. She moaned in delight, wondering if he’d made that slight shift in form for her pleasure or his. Either was equally arousing. The last time they’d been together, he’d arranged her the way he wanted her and
taken
her. Taken what he needed, how he needed it, and expected her to find her pleasure in giving it to him. Which she had. She’d never come so hard or often, never experienced ecstasy so fierce and wild. No boundaries. No limits.
His groan vibrated against her. “Your taste drives me insane. I could eat you for hours. Days. Lick up every sweet, creamy drop of you.”
The next glide of his tongue teased her slick opening, rimming it in leisurely circles that had her straining toward him. He kept her in place with his easy grip, nudging her clitoris with the tip of his tongue and humming a soft chastisement.
“Elijah,” she complained.
“Elijah…what?”
Her teeth grit. “Elijah, please.”
“Please…what?”
She couldn’t stop the frustrated noise that escaped her. “Please don’t be an ass.”
“But I can’t rush,” he said smoothly, “or I might overly exert myself and break my promise.”
“Using your
tongue
?”
When she attempted to straighten, he kept her in place with a hand at the small of her back. “Is it so difficult, letting me take the lead?”
“Yes.” No. That was what chafed the most. Sure, he was an Alpha, but he wasn’t
her
Alpha. And for her people,
she
was damn near the Alpha. What would they think if they could see her now?
“Even though doing so brings you pleasure?” he prodded.
Vash looked at him over her shoulder. He was looking right back at her, not at the slick hot flesh quivering for more of his attention. Prurient interest would have soothed her, oddly. His focus on her reactions and her emotions was far more intimate.
“I’m not one of the countless bitches sniffing around after you,” she snapped. “Subservience isn’t in my nature.”
“Good. Women without backbones make me twitchy.” He kissed her, right on the ass. “You’ve got a great rack, but even your spectacular tits wouldn’t be enough to keep me interested past the first screw. That must mean I’m in this for your charming tendency to bark orders and run everything around you…except for me, of course. Now, finish your damn sentence: Elijah, please do what? You want me to do whatever I want with you? Say so. You want to give me some direction, go for it. I’m open to suggestions.”
Her gaze moved to the floor. Damn it, she wanted to direct him
and
she wanted him to do whatever he wanted. She didn’t know which one she wanted more.
So she split it down the middle.
“Elijah.” She exhaled in a rush. “Please lick me until I come. Then do whatever the hell you want with me.”
“Thought you’d never ask, sweetheart.”
If the hand at the small of her back hadn’t reached around to clasp the front of her thigh, Vash would have fallen over with his first deep lick. He used his mouth as only a creature who relied on it as much as he did his hands would. The stroking of his crushed-velvet tongue was rhythmic and precise; the tempo of his thrusts into her needy sex had her rocking back on her heels, trying to capture the perfect pressure that would push her into orgasm. She could see him between her legs, see how thick he was. How rigid and long. The heavily veined length so brutally beautiful. Just like the man himself. She wanted it…wanted him…
Christ. She wanted so fiercely, it hurt. Her breath soughed from her lungs; her nipples were hard and tight. Her stomach concaved with her helpless writhing, desperate whimpers escaping her as he massaged her clitoris with the roughened pad of his tongue.
“Please,” she begged, when she couldn’t take another minute.
“Yes.” He gave a fierce, quick suck, and she climaxed with a relieved cry, shuddering violently as the pleasure broke over her in rippling spasms.
As her legs shook and threatened to collapse, Elijah drew her into his lap and urged her to lean against his chest. Her head lolled on his shoulder, his scent filling her nostrils and intoxicating her already floating senses. The feel of him against her back, so solid and warm and strong, made her never want to move. His arms
came around her, one hand cupping her breast while the other caught her knee and widened the spread of her legs.
“Guide me,” he whispered against her cheek. “Put me inside you.”
Swallowing past a dry throat, she fisted him in her hand, pumping his cock from root to tip. Once. Twice. Then more. He was so hard, and she was enamored with the feel of him and the effect she had on him. He was rumbling his pleasure in her ear, his chest vibrating against her back. Her hand grew slick with his semen as his excitement built, her own body responding to his hands on her breasts. With practiced skill, he kneaded the heavy flesh, his talented fingers rolling and tugging on the sensitive tips.
“You’re gonna make me come,” he warned, his teeth scraping along the top of her shoulder.
“That’s the goal, isn’t it?”
“If all I wanted was an orgasm, I’d have skipped the long walk across the warehouse and taken the offer I got in the parking lot.”
Her fist tightened on him and he made a noise that was half groan and half laugh. Damn him, he knew she hated how females salivated over him. He was deliberately pushing her in the direction he wanted her to go and she complied anyway. Because she had the right to take what other women could only hope for.
Rising, she gained the height needed to position the wide crest of his cock against her. One deep breath later and she was lowering onto him, her eyes closing as he filled her, stretched her. She was tight in this position,
squeezing down on him, making him work to claim her.
His low groan of pleasure was so erotically charged she almost came from the sound of it. It was laced with a whisper of his own surrender, reminding her that they were equally captured by their all-consuming desire. Equally helpless to fight the pull of attraction between them.
With his hands caging her ribs just below her breasts, he controlled the speed and angle of her descent, increasing her awareness of every ragingly aroused inch of him as he possessed her. As she possessed him in return. Her hair fell over his shoulder, and her hips began to circle without volition. Her arms came up and behind her to push her fingers into his thick, dark hair.
“Mmm…” She moaned. “Feels so good.”
“There’s more.”
“Yes…more.” Vash went lax in his arms and let him have his way.
He eased her lower, effortlessly supporting her weight. She wasn’t a small woman. She was tall, with an overabundance of curves. She’d never in her life felt delicate, but Elijah made her feel more feminine than anyone ever had besides Char. It was a feeling she relished—to be something other than a vampire, someone other than Syre’s lieutenant.
Once he was to the hilt in her, he embraced her from behind. His arms reached around her and crossed over her chest. Sweat coated the skin between them, sealing them together. Her thighs splayed along the top of his; his teeth nipped at her shoulder. Inside her, he
throbbed. She was utterly claimed. She felt it, even though he didn’t say it.
Elijah reached between her legs, found her exposed clitoris and massaged gently with the pads of two fingers. She climaxed with a breathless cry. His soft growl of satisfaction spurred her hunger, kept her on the edge so that she wanted more. More of him and the way he made her feel.
“I love the way you squeeze me when you’re coming,” he whispered. “You tighten around me…milk me…Do it again.”
Her hands fell to the arms of the chair and she straightened away from him. As her body leaned forward, he pressed even deeper, the sensation so exquisitely sublime she almost came again. She couldn’t explain how or why he was such an aphrodisiac to her, but there was no denying he was. Everything about him was a delight to her senses, keeping her primed and ready.
His lips slid gently over her back, the tender gesture making her throat tighten. “Ride me, Vashti. Fuck me until I can’t take any more.”
She did, starting out the first half-hour slow and easy as she’d promised, relishing his white-knuckled response. She lost herself in the rhythmic flux and flow, in the steady lift and fall of her hips…the in-and-out glide of his body into hers…the rush and ebb of need as she timed her movements to the sounds of his breathing. Slowing when he gasped, quickening when he quieted.
She could have gone on like that forever, but the feel
of his fingers between them, circling the base of his cock, brought her scattered mind into focus. He stiffened a moment, then a ferocious orgasm tore through him. He shook so violently, the chair quaked as if rocked by an earthquake, his teeth grinding audibly, the claws of his free hand piercing the solid metal armrests as if they were made of tinfoil. He came long and hard…yet he didn’t. The expected wash of heat never followed.
Oh, no, you don’t,
she thought grimly, determined to break his steely control.
Vash took his knowledge and skill, his ability to hold back ejaculating even while he climaxed, as a challenge. He was too contained. Too reasoned. While she’d been damn near insensate with pleasure.
Setting her hands over his, she pinned them down with her weight.
Then,
she
took
him
. Not like the first time. Never again like that. This time, she chained him with desire, his and hers, and the delights of her body. She drove him hard and fast, giving him no quarter, forcing him to the precipice at a speed he couldn’t back away from.
“Vashti,” he gasped, then he cursed viciously. Swearing at her, telling her to slow down, hold on, give him a minute.
When he came this time, it was harder than before, his breath heaving from his lungs, his legs straining beneath hers as he shot hotly into her. She felt him go off, relished his shout of her name. Feminine satisfaction pumped through her, kicking off her orgasm to catch the tail end of his.
His arms banded around her, crushing her tightly against him. They succumbed to their desire together.
As the sun rose over the desert sands, Elijah found himself greeting the new day in the best shape of his life. No mean feat, considering he’d been on his deathbed the day before. His wounds had healed without scarring, and his strength was back in spades. Whether that was due to the Sentinel blood pumping through him or the lingering charge from a night spent with a warm and passionate Vashti, he couldn’t say.
Fuck me until I can’t take any more.
Hell if Vashti hadn’t taken him at his word. He’d tried to hold back, tried to make it last. For her sake as well as his. She’d been enjoying him so much, taking her pleasure with unabashed delight, instinct driving her into a primal state of animal need and desire where her body had silenced the doubts and anger in her mind…
“Alpha.”
He looked over his shoulder at Raze, who wore black dress slacks and a gray silk shirt, the quiet elegance of his attire making him almost unrecognizable. Pivoting to catch the mini-duffel the vampire threw at him, Elijah asked, “What’s up?”
“Let’s go. You can change at the airport after we check in.”
Brows raised, he glanced at Syre’s office door. Vashti had disappeared behind it about twenty minutes before, leaving him to get the last few teams on the road while she updated the vampire leader about her personal plans to visit the Huntington post.
“Her orders.” Raze had the decency to refrain from gloating. “She put you with me last night.”
Ah. Now he knew what she’d wanted to talk to him about before desire distracted them, just as he knew she’d changed her mind and planned on heading out to Huntington with him instead.
Shaking his head, he adjusted his grip on the bag in his hand and grabbed his shades from the desk. Changed mind or not, they had a few things to work out. She needed to learn that making decisions and giving orders relating to him—relating to
them
—required both of them. “Let’s roll.”