Sex and the Single Vamp (8 page)

“I wanted you when I shouldn’t have, when I knew what being with me would mean to you. Even then I knew our kind shouldn’t be with a human.” He traced the tilt of her jaw, down the sweet column of her neck with his mouth, reveling in her taste and her warmth. “I knew I was a selfish bastard taking you away from your family, your friends, everything you knew, but I didn’t care. I went to that party intent on seducing you, making your body mine.”

Deacon tilted her body back, holding her fast, but gaining unfettered access to her tight pink nipples. Cici threw her head back, pushing the round globes of her breasts out, offering them to him on a moan that slithered down his spine and wrapped around his balls, causing his cock to jerk against her body where his fingers were still buried inside her scalding heat.

“Yes, just like that.” He lowered his head, taking one sweet bud in his mouth, laving the tip, sucking gently as he glided his fangs along the skin, biting down lightly. She tasted as sweet as she had all those years ago when he’d lost control and taken it further than even a man as wicked as he was should have lured a virgin. But her blood had sung to him, pulsing just below the translucent layer of skin and sweet as honey. “I remember pulling down your bodice and tasting your nipples, drawing on them and having to cover your mouth with my hand so no one would hear your moans.”

“Deacon,” Cici groaned and he was fucking glad he didn’t have to stifle her cries now. In here, tonight, he could let her shout out her pleasure and claim it as his due reward for a job well done.

His thumb traced a circle around her clit as she began to ride his hand, her sex grasping his fingers as they sought the sweet spots in her body and ignited a need that only he could fulfill. He dropped his head again to her other breast, sucking harder when her fingers wound in the long strands of his hair and held him in place. His fangs throbbed with the ache to pierce flesh, to unleash her blood, but he wouldn’t ask for that intimacy tonight. Maybe one day when all lies between them were laid to rest.

Cici’s cries, loud and sexy as hell, hiccuped as her body surged toward her climax. He released her breast, lifting his head to watch her face as she came. She was blindingly gorgeous—head thrown back in her passion, the flush of arousal casting her skin in a pink glow. She rode his hand, chasing ecstasy until she slumped over, limp with the exhaustion of taking her pleasure.

With a hiss of reluctance, Deacon removed his fingers from the sweet cradle of her body, hauling her up with him as he stood up and stepped out of the tub, water sloshing across the tile and soaking their discarded clothes. Cici yelped in surprise, her arms twining around his neck as they slid precariously in the puddle.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked, blinking up at him with a sex-sleepy gaze.

“What I need to do to you requires a flat surface. I’m taking you to bed to finish this.”

Cici’s slipped her air-cooled hand between them and closed around his cock, stroking it from root to tip with a twist around the head, just the way he liked, and he barely stayed on his feet with the surge of pleasure that shot through his system.

“You didn’t come?” she murmured against his neck.

“No, sweetheart.” He entered the room, four long strides taking him to the edge of the bed where he tossed her onto the top of it. She lay there gasping, body on display from the top of her head down to her toes and all the delicious bits in between.

He didn’t know how he was going to keep his shit together with her spread out in his bed like this, heaven beckoning him to slide right in and take his satisfaction. Deacon palmed his dick, pumping it in anticipation as he kneeled between her legs.

“The last one was for you. The next one is for me.”

Chapter Eleven

Deacon had not tamed the beast and damn was she glad.

Cici wouldn’t call herself an adrenaline junkie but the wild ride with Deacon was a rush as she’d never experienced before. She’d wandered into the sun once, before she was able to daywalk, and the burn had felt as if it blazed from the inside out, and that was what his touch felt like. She was incendiary, explosive with him. She wanted to consume him, reduce his control to ash at her feet.

Deacon crawled over her, his long hair tickling the inside of her thigh as he inserted his wide shoulders, opening her core up to him. His scruffy cheek scraped against her over-sensitized skin and she leaned up on her elbows, watching as he lowered his head and licked her folds in one long, sensual move that curled her toes.

“I thought this one was for you,” she gasped out, opening her legs wider in an invitation he did not need.

He lifted his head, dark eyes blazing with bronze as he smiled a wide, sexy, fang-filled grin. “This
is
for me. I love to make you come. When you’re all soft, juicy, and sweet, I can have my wicked way with you.”

“I’m ready. Really.”

“No baby, I’m going to be rough. I warned you that I wasn’t fit for company tonight but you wanted to take me on.” He sucked on her clit for a moment, wrenching a long, hard moan from her that she could not stop. Didn’t want him to stop. His voice was a growl against her skin. “This is as calm as the beast gets, sweetheart.”

Cici fell under his spell as his mouth moved in unspeakably wonderful ways over her core, licking her folds, concentrating on the bundle of nerves that was the key to the universe at that moment. And she was his to claim as he raised her higher and then crashed her against the waves of her orgasm.

Deacon made his way up her body, pressing kisses along the fevered skin of her belly, nuzzling licks on her swollen breasts and sucking pulls on her nipples that reignited the sparks of delight in her veins.

As a lover, Deacon was as she expected—aggressive, demanding, skilled—but he was also tender. She kept her eyes open, watching every move, drinking in his bliss as he caressed her body with his mouth and hands.

She could feel the blood from her earlier feeding racing along her veins, amplifying the heightened excitement of vampire sex. It was like no other experience; her body felt as close to alive as it had in over two centuries—her usual cool melted away under the furnace blast of desire.

Deacon tracked his way to her mouth, capturing her lips in a kiss that testified to how on edge he really was. The ragged drag of his fangs along her lips, the bruising crush of their mouths, the carnal demand he made as he thrust his tongue inside in a preview of what she hoped he would soon be doing with his cock. The taste of her own arousal mixed with Deacon’s unique winter-spice flavor went to her head and made her dizzy.

They pulled apart, eyes locked in dual flashes of desire, their bodies interlocked in a tangled puzzle of her soft curves and his hard angles.

“How do you want me?” she whispered, spearing her fingers through the tousled mass of his hair as it fell around them and caressed her face with its silken texture. His face in the shadows of the morning was angular, formidable, and raw with his need and everything in her screamed to be whatever he needed right at this moment. “Anything you want. Tell me.”

His gaze flared with his response, his fangs flashing with his carnal grin. “Turn over. Hands and knees.”

She complied readily, as anxious as he was to feel him inside her again. It had only been a few moments since she’d come but it felt as if he’d made her wait another two centuries to chase this need. Cici raised on her knees, her back arching as he ran a calloused hand down her spine, over her hip.

He pulled her back slightly, his body pressing against her from behind, his hard cock riding the crevice between her ass cheeks. She arched again, faltering with the shiver that coursed through her body when he angled his penis down, stroking her sensitive folds and clit with the blunt head.

“Deacon. Baby. Please,” she pleaded, unashamed of the naked need in every syllable.

“Ssh. I’ve got you.” His caress ignited the tingles of sensation under her skin that caused every whisper of touch; every hard grip of muscle communicated more pleasure to the growing pressure between her thighs. “You know how good this is going to be, right? You’re dying for it.”

“Yes.”

“So am I.” He pressed the fat head of his dick against her and she leaned into it, coaxing him to enter her fully. Deacon’s hands gripped her hips and he held her back, controlling the shallow dips in and out that amped up her lust and made her crazy. “Fuck. I wish you could see this. Your sweet body covering me with its heat, nothing between us. I’ve never been so glad to be a vampire.”

“Deacon,” Cici said in warning. She clawed at the covers, unable to stand much teasing as her legs began to shake with the slow build of her craving. “Don’t tease. That’s not nice.”

“I never said I would be nice.” He laughed darkly, driving into her deeper but not quite enough. “I only said I would make you come.”

He slid fully inside her, the hard length of him touching all her secret spots that sparked in colors of neon behind her closed eyelids. It was as though fireworks went off in her body with every thrust and swivel of his hips. She leaned into it, meeting him with every bone-jarring plunge, urging him with her body to take her over completely, to possess her.

“Oh fuck, Cici. You’re so tight, drawing me in. I wish you could see this.” Deacon leaned over her back, his mouth pressing a hot kiss to her neck, the sharp edge of his fang skimming her skin and causing her core to clench tighter around him. “Look at you, baby. Open your eyes and look at you.”

Cici fluttered her heavy lids open, sexual intensity compelling her to close them again and wallow in the sensations coursing through her nervous system. She forced her eyes open and found before them a full-size mirror, its ornate frame mounted to the wall and reflecting the light of dawn and casting a rosy, diffuse glow to the scene shimmering in the glass.

Cici almost didn’t recognize herself. Her hair was a curly mass falling around her shoulders, framing her flushed face. Her lips were parted, fangs visible as she lunged backward with each forward thrust of his body. Her breasts swayed beneath her, swollen and aching.

Deacon rose up, his torso upright behind her as he drove into her with his hard cock. His dark skin was in high contrast to the pale shade of her own and the difference was beautiful. She blinked back tears as she watched them together—one in this pursuit of pleasure—something only they could share in this moment. It was theirs no matter what happened tomorrow.

“Look at you, sweetheart,” Deacon groaned as his pace picked up, his thrusts becoming shallower as he neared his own climax. His fingers dug into her hips as he locked his gaze with hers in the mirror. “You fucking blow me away.”

“Harder. Deacon, harder.” She didn’t care if she was begging, her second—third?—orgasm was just there on the edge and she needed one push to get her there. She wanted it. She needed it. Her legs were shaking, arms barely holding her up as shivers of arousal threatened to knock her down. He pushed her with each pound of his body into hers, the flare of heat in his eyes giving away how close he was. But he demanded more.

“Only if you touch yourself.”

“Oh hell,” Cici groaned, not sure if she could support herself one-handed so she lowered her upper torso to the bed, her head angled so that she could see him over her shoulder. Her ass pressed higher, her legs spread wider in the new position, but she didn’t care. It felt amazing, so vulnerable, yet so powerful when his expression morphed into a sexy mix of brash intensity and soft vulnerability.

She reached under her body, her fingers unerringly finding her clit and beginning the rhythmic circling that she knew would get her off. She could feel the slide of his cock in and out of her body and her nipples abraded against the tousled covers with each hard thrust. She rode it out, taking everything he would give as her orgasm washed over her, tightening her body in a taut bow suspended between the mattress below and his body behind.

Her voice was hoarse as even the aftershocks wrenched the sound of strangled pleasure from her throat. Deacon sped up, his hips pistoning now with his frenzy. His face was hard with concentration, his eyes locked on where he fucked her, and she wished she could see it as well. The next best thing was feeling it so she trailed her fingers from her clit back to his cock and balls, caressing them as best she could.

“Cici.” Deacon seized behind her, his eyes shutting tight, head thrown back as his orgasm hit him and he filled her with his heat. His fangs, fully distended, flashed as he bared them in a primal growl.

Cici collapsed down into the bedding, the combination of exhaustion and sexual satiation coming down on her like an avalanche. She protested the loss when he slid out of her but her muscles were too lax to do anything to keep him there. Her body missed him but it was the emotional void Deacon soothed when he lifted her in his arms and pulled her under the covers with him.

She snuggled into his embrace, locked in the circle of his arms, her back nestled against his front, his big, strong body sheltering her from the world and the nightmares she fully expected to come. She drifted in and out of sleep as they lay there together, separate from the world coming to life fourteen floors below. Time passed as the shadows crossed the room, making different patterns as the morning progressed. Her mind refused to fully shut down, so many things still needed to be said.

God, but she wanted a tomorrow with this man. She’d never been crazy enough to deny the attraction or to rewrite their history. He was her first love, the one that got away, and no matter how many lovers she had or the places she lived or the things she did—he would always be that guy. The challenge was training her heart to accept the man he was now and not long for the rose-colored version she’d concocted in her fifteen-year-old brain when they’d first met and he’d captured her attention. Deacon was open in his disbelief in love and forever, and she was a card-carrying, charter member of the hearts and flowers hopeless romantic club.

Whatever this became, it wouldn’t be easy.

“I would have chosen you if I had known,” she whispered into the gloom of the room, unsure if he slept.

“I know.” His sleepy reply didn’t match the decisive way he tightened his grip on her, pressing a kiss to the nape of her neck. “We can’t change the past. You’re in my bed. That’s all I want to focus on right now.”

“But—”

“Cici, it took us over two hundred years to sort this shit out enough to fuck each other. Let’s get the killer out of the way before we deal with whatever else is going on between us.”

It wasn’t flowers or a ring in a box but it was something. A new beginning. A chance. She’d take it.

“I’ll stay. For now.”

“Thank God. I’m too fucking beat to fight with you about it.” He snuggled in closer, the rigid length of his cock sliding along her ass. “You can keep the beast calm.”

“That’s impossible.” She laughed as she wriggled against him and he moaned in delight. Her own body was responding to his touch, fatigue washing away with the heat of arousal spreading along her skin.

“Maybe. But it will be fun to try.” He wedged a knee between her legs, making room for him to shift forward, his dick nudging her entrance, sliding easily through the hot lube drenching her folds.

“I have a thing tonight. For my business,” she gasped as he entered her in one solid push. He was big and she was deliciously full of him, surrounded by his heat in their cocoon of covers. “At the British Embassy.”

“No problem,” he groaned in her hair as his hips kept up the languid pace. “But you aren’t going unless I go with you.”

“It’s invite only.”

He laughed, low and deep, as he withdrew from her body and rolled her over, covering her body as he slid in deep again. Deacon leaned down, taking her mouth in a kiss that left her aching, pulsing around him as he began the slow pace that would lead to either insanity or bliss.

“Don’t worry. I’ll get you there.”

She wasn’t sure if he was talking about the party or the orgasm building in her body or both. Right now, she was good with either one.