No Rest for the Wicked

25

Her inner thighs were like silk. Nothing could be so soft.

Sebastian already felt as though he'd explode, and he hadn't even tasted her.

He wanted to savor the experience, but he'd waited too long for this fantasy. After the cave, he'd paced in her townhouse with nervousness for hours. He'd known what he was going to do to her tonight—what he'd thought about again and again. But could he please her? Would she be able to tell he'd never done this before?

Now that he was certain he was about to have it, he was desperate for his first taste of her.

He gave a last kiss on her thigh, and then, with a growl, he found her wetness. Mouth open, he rubbed his tongue at her center, in a long, slow lick. As she cried out, his body shuddered with pleasure, his cock jerking in his pants. "You're like honey."

Wet, slick, luscious. For more than three hundred years, he'd waited for this.

And she was so fucking worth it.

Encouraged by her cry, he licked more deeply and felt her growing wetter against his tongue. She moaned, and her arms fell overhead. He'd never imagined her sex could be so hot, the flesh so giving. I will never get enough of this. Never.

If it took becoming a vampire to have this one night with her, would he suffer the turning again?

In the space of one of his new heartbeats.

When he lashed a hard stroke of his tongue against her swollen little clitoris, she sucked in a breath and arched her back sharply. How had he ever thought he could handle his own reaction? It was everything he could do not to yank out his shaft and impale her exactly where his tongue was dipping right at that moment.

But then, there was no way he would forgo this pleasure now. He had waited for so long and already he was in love with the act. Her sexy heels were digging into his back, urging him on like spurs.

She leaned up on her elbows to watch him, biting her bottom lip, panting, sending a shock of lust through him. She touched her own breasts, strumming her nipples as if for him. How did she know he was enthralled with her pink nipples and plump, soft breasts? For her to play with them... ?

"Bastian!" she cried. "I'm so close... "

No, not yet! Shouldn't have taken her with my fingers. She'd have lasted longer. I could have had my mouth on her longer. But she threw back her head, arching with her nipples tight and pointing, and he couldn't stop himself from licking her madly.

She moaned as she began coming, and his eyes closed with pleasure, as it went on and on. Her lithe body shuddered against him and her cries filled his ears.

Once she'd finished, she pushed at his head to close her knees, when all he wanted to do was taste her orgasm. No, damn it, he was going to have more of this. Had to. "I'm not done yet," he growled, not recognizing his own voice.

Her eyes widened when he scooped her up and carried her to the bed in the back, tossing her down. The room had a panorama of small windows, and all around her, he could see lightning striking in the background. Sebastian was in a plane—actually flying—and he could not give a damn.

When he moved her bodily so he could lie between her legs, she said, "Bastian, I-I can't... not so soon."

She pushed at him when he spread her legs wide once more, but he yanked her arms to her sides and clutched her wrists, capturing her in place.

"Spread your legs," he ordered in a tone that dared her to deny him.

She did with a whimper, knowing what was to come. He set back in, more aggressive, emboldened at how he'd made her come already, at how she'd given off lightning. He'd worried that he would be awful at this, that she would yawn with boredom. But she'd made it so easy with her moans and cries, letting him know exactly how she liked to be kissed.

When he decided to try suckling her clitoris, she moaned with abandon, head thrashing on the pillow, making him grind his cock into the mattress in agony. Her legs fell wide again in total surrender, and light exploded outside; the plane shook as she rolled her hips to his waiting tongue.

"Yes... yes... yes," she cried, panting, writhing. She screamed—loudly—when she came, and though he held her wrists, her claws dug down and shredded the sheets.

He devoured her until he'd wrung every last whimper from her. Then he kissed her silky thighs where he'd squeezed too hard, wanting to soothe her even as he ached.

"Bastian?" she murmured.

He finally pulled himself away and rose to sit back on his haunches, not bothering to hide his amazement. She appeared to share the feeling. "Well"—she had to swallow before continuing—"you're, uh, certainly no slouch in that department."

Sebastian was proud and relieved. Very relieved. But now he would have to leave her. He had a cock full of seed that would not be denied. And he'd promised her he'd do no more than touch her. Even in the unlikely event that she wanted to make love to him, he didn't want her to in exchange for anything—

"Bastian," she purred. "I want to touch you."

He shook his head. "I told you I wouldn't." But when she reached out her soft palm, his hips shot forward, seemingly of their own accord, to place his cock at her disposal.

By the time he'd gathered the will to think about denying her, she'd already undone his jeans.

In a throaty whisper, she asked, "Do you think I could let that go unrewarded?"

Kaderin grasped his shaft, pulling it free. Her eyes widened at her first sight.

Gods, he was glorious. The crown was glistening, the shaft so thick as it pulsed and throbbed in her palm.

She glanced up to find his face flushed as he looked down to where she held him. When she caught his darkened eyes, she realized he wanted her to like what they were doing, that he wanted her to find him attractive.

"I love the way you feel," she murmured as she circled her fingers around him, squeezing him firmly in her fist until he groaned low. "I couldn't stop touching you even if I tried."

Pulling on him, she eased him down to where he rested over her on his hands and knees. Then, stroking his length, she touched the head to her breast. He began shuddering, his legs shaking. She rubbed it against the flesh, even around one of her nipples. With her other hand, she cupped his heavy sack, kneading.

She saw him clench his jaw and sensed he was just preventing himself from thrusting into her palm to end this. "Katja... I'm about to... come."

"Yes!" She stroked him harder, faster.

He bit out, "Like this—?"

She pressed the head directly to her aching nipple.

"Ah, God—" The words ended with a brutal yell as he ejaculated against her. She pumped her fist, shivering at the first contact. The room lit with lightning once more.

When she'd stroked him spent, he looked as if he could scarcely believe what he'd done. "I didn't expect... I didn't plan for this."

She bit her bottom lip. "I know."

Without another word, he pushed up, tucking his shaft back into his jeans, looking angry with himself. He rose to go to the luxurious bathroom, then returned with a plush towel, wetted on the end. When he sat beside her, he clearly wondered what the protocol was. He held up the towel with raised eyebrows, and she nodded, stifling a smile.

He reached out to clean her breasts with languid strokes, staring avidly. He exhaled a long breath and muttered, "I can't believe I did this."

Each of his light strokes relaxed her even more, and she gave him a lazy grin, no doubt surprising him. Hey, what could she say? She'd needed him for tonight, and he'd satisfied her thoroughly. Even if they hadn't made love.

Kaderin found it sexy as hell that he wasn't too suave and overly practiced in bed, the way she'd heard immortal men could be—nor was he jaded. He didn't try to hide how much pleasure he was feeling, or check his words, or downplay how much he ached.

She sighed, every muscle in her body relaxed. "Bastian, I thought tonight was wonderful."

"You did?" He'd just come across her breasts, watching as it happened as though out of his body. That was something he'd thought he'd go his whole life without experiencing. And though he found it hard to believe, she looked as if she couldn't be happier with him.

He shook his head again to clear it, then rose to toss the towel into the bathroom. When he returned, he leaned against the bedroom doorway and gazed down at her. She'd turned onto her side, and seemed half-asleep, but she raised her head to give him a drowsy smile. And something felt as though it shifted in his chest, twisting... aching.

Her sleek skirt was bunched at her waist, and her wisp of underwear had snagged on the fastening of her shoe. Seeing her like this, so soft and relaxed, made his chest hurt again. Frowning, he rubbed the palm of his hand hard against it.

When she murmured his name and rounded her back as if coaxing him to lie behind her, his eyes widened. He returned at once, sitting beside her. Yes, he would sleep with her. He yanked off his boots and pulled his shirt over his head, then reached up and closed all of the curtains.

He knew she would set out as soon as they landed—but for now, he planned to enjoy every aspect of being with his woman, including undressing her for bed.

He tugged the underwear free, removed her shoes, then unzipped and removed her skirt. When he lay behind her, pulling the blanket over them, he could have sworn she mumbled something about a cake.

After drawing her into his arms, he buried his face in her hair and squeezed her. He'd gone from famine to feast—no middle ground. He'd gone from having no one to call his own to having a fantasy here in his arms.

He could win her. He would win her after tonight. He'd known he would be a good husband, a good father, but he'd wondered if he could satisfy her in bed. Now he felt confident he could, since she wasn't shy about what pleased her. God, how she lets me know. He grinned against her, well aware that they slept on shredded sheets.

She sighed, flexing against him. Then as if she caught herself doing something she oughtn't, she tensed. "Tonight changes nothing, vampire."

"Tell yourself that, Valkyrie"—he brushed her hair aside, kissing her neck and making her shiver—"as much as you like."