Chapter Twenty-Two
Vladimir
Grant is lying next to me when I wake. He is not sleeping; he sits with his back to the headboard and is watching something on the TV that is mounted on the opposite wall.
No one else is here. My blessing reaches out, reacting to the threat we encountered the night before, but settles quickly when I realise we are alone.
“You’re awake!” Grant’s grin is both delighted and relieved, but although he twists his body towards me, he does not reach out and touch.
“Yes, I—” I clear my throat when my voice comes out hoarse and Grant twists again, this time away. He passes me a bottle of water and I drink half of it in one go. “Thank you. How are you feeling?”
“Me? I’m fine. How are you? I wasn’t sure if you—” He does reach for me then, and I let out a sigh when his hands cup my face.
My blessing has healed most of the hurt, though I still feel tender somewhere deep inside.
I cannot say I will not do it again. If Grant is in danger a second time, I will borrow as much of his power as necessary in order to keep him safe.
“I wasn’t sure what I’d do if you didn’t wake up. ”
“I am fine,” I say and place one of my hands over his. “You’re warm.”
He feels like he did when he came in during the day, but when I study his face, he does not appear as high on power as he did then. Grant flushes under my gaze, eyes darting to the window, then away.
“Yeah, well, I felt like death warmed up when I woke up, so I… recharged?”
“Recharged?”
Grant pulls a face. “Stood in the sun.”
I cannot help the shock that runs through me, even if he has survived it before. Even if I am certain, deep down, that the sun is what he needs. He is still a vampire. I have spent centuries with the bone-deep knowledge that the sun is our greatest killer.
“I know, I know. But I’m fine, really, you don’t need to worry—”
“You’re right.”
“I am?”
“Not that I need not worry. I believe I will always do that. I believe, too, that you require the sun.” I narrow my eyes. “We should ensure that you get some sun exposure every day, unless that does prove to be too much, in which case every other day, or—”
Grant kisses me, swallowing my next word, hands still tight on my face. I feel the shape of his smile against my lips.
“Fuck, I love you,” he says when our mouths part, but before I can respond in kind—or ask what, exactly, caused this—he kisses me again.
I kiss him back. Why not? The others are not here and Eirian is off plotting somewhere else and we could have been doing this all day if not for the fact that I have been sleeping throughout. I wrap my arms around him, but when I try to roll us over, the duvet bunches between us.
Grant pulls back with a rueful laugh. He moves out of my arms long enough that we can push the duvet down to a messy heap at the foot of the bed, and then he is back, body tight against mine, all that warmth soaking into my skin.
I sweep my tongue into his mouth, tasting nothing but sunlight and Grant, and when I roll him onto his back, he goes agreeably. He makes a delicious keening sound when I rock our hips together, and then again when I slide one hand up under his shirt and rub over a nipple.
When I rip my mouth away to kiss down his throat, Grant grabs at me, fingers digging into my skin. He lets out a gasp, lifting his head, and I lift my own just in time to see the way his eyes sweep over my bare chest.
“Fuck,” he mutters and runs shaking hands over my shoulders and chest. “You’re hot in your suits, but this—”
My cheeks heat, gaze darting away. Perhaps I should not be so bashful as all that, but the lovers I have had have never been quite so demonstrative or as vocal as he is. Grant smiles again, lips reddened where we have been kissing.
“This okay?” His hands linger on my pecs, squeezing before they travel further down, nimble fingers dancing over my ribs.
“The touching?”
“All of it.”
“Yes.”
He cocks his head to one side. “You’re sure?”
I hook a hand around the back of his neck and kiss him, this time slower, and there is some grace to it that neither of us possessed a moment ago. Grant parts his legs, allowing me to settle between them, and as I tug at his shirt, he strokes up and down my back.
“What about you?” I murmur, faintly panting. I push up onto my elbows and begin the arduous process of working each button out of its hole. Grant tips his head back onto the pillow and watches.
“What about me?”
“All of this—It is—”
“You can do whatever you want with me. To me.”
Heat rushes through me and I tug the next button harder than intended, sending it flying across the room. Grant sticks out his lower lip.
“Maybe don’t ruin all my clothes, though? I do need them.”
Boldness seizes me. I have Grant’s shirt unbuttoned and I push it aside, revealing his chest and narrow waist. “Why would you need them?”
He laughs, loud and carefree. My fingers bruise his sides. “I think the others might complain if they come over and we’re naked all the time.”
I lower my head to lick over his collarbone. “They will not be invited.”
Grant laughs again, then groans, but the reminder that the rest of the Hunt exists does bring something to mind. “Are we likely to be disturbed?”
“What?”
“Now. Are we likely to be disturbed?”
“I don’t—Fuck. What time is it?”
I stay wrapped in the cradle of his hips as I reach out for one of our phones. Grant’s is closest, and the screen tells me it is only six o’clock.
“We’ve got time,” Grant says, urging my head back down. “We’re going to find Jakob tonight. Later. Not now.”
I have a lot of thoughts about that, and all of them are less urgent than our next kiss and the way Grant rocks his hips against mine.
His shirt is not all the way off, but we both work at his shorts, then my pyjama bottoms, and when I lower my hips again, our cocks rub together and we groan in unison.
I glance down. He is thicker than me, uncut, hair neatly trimmed at the base. And he is hard, just as I am, from nothing more than the kisses and touches we have already exchanged.
Grant reaches down, but I grab his hand and thread our fingers together. “Let me?”
“Fuck, I told you. Whatever you want.”
Whatever I want, except the tense lines of his body tell me a different story, which is that we both only have so much patience.
I peck him on the lips before I shuffle lower, nothing graceful about it, but neither of us cares about that.
Grant whines when I kiss below his ribs, then again when I bite his hip.
His eyes widen like he does not believe what I am about to do.
I drag his shorts off, toss them away, and when I slide my hands up his thighs, the muscles tremble beneath my palms. I have been alive for a long time. I have commanded armies. I have stood by the Huntsman’s side, knowing myself to be one of the most powerful creatures this side of the veil.
None of that power has been as heady as this. Grant gazes upon me with unadulterated trust and adoration, either in spite of everything or because of it. His chest rises and falls quickly, cheeks flushed, lips parted and soft and welcoming.
I lower my head and take him into my mouth. Grant shouts, tensing as he tries to keep his hips still, and I slide my tongue along his length as I attempt to take him deeper and deeper.
“Vlad, Vlad, Vlad, oh God, that’s so good, you’re so good—”
The praise warms me. I cover what length I cannot swallow with my hand, using spit to slick the way. It is messy, sounds obscene, but Grant digs his heels into the duvet and arches his back when I suck hard, and that is all that matters.
That is all that matters until he threads his fingers through my hair. I go still, eyes flicking up to meet his. Grant stills, too.
“Okay?” he asks, voice smaller.
I hum around his cock, and he shivers.
“I just wanna… Just need to hold on.”
I lift off with a leisurely lick, savouring the taste of him, just for a moment. “Pull.”
“W-what?”
“You heard me.”
His pupils blow wide, making his eyes even darker. “Yeah, I did.”
I lower my head again, swallowing more of him this time.
Grant’s hand tightens in my hair. He goes carefully at first, clearly intent on not hurting me, but I know it will not hurt in any way I do not like.
I stroke my other hand up his inner thigh, ghosting my fingertips over his balls, and Grant moans, pulling a little harder.
Tingles travel over my scalp and shoot down my spine as my eyelids flutter. Grant gasps. He understands. He will learn, and so will I. We will learn everything there is to know about one another. We will learn new things about ourselves, and we will learn it all together.
I move my head faster, and each time I take Grant as deeply as I can, he tugs on my hair, enough to make me groan and push my hips down, trying to get enough friction.
Grant praises me, words falling from his mouth that I do not think he even consciously registers.
They come faster and faster as he gets closer.
His grip tightens too, the sting of pain sending pleasure shooting down my spine.
I might come just like this. My face heats again. Will Grant like that? I think so. For all that we have known each other for so long, we clearly have never understood what we truly think of one another, or this revelation would have come years ago.
No matter. We are here now. I lift my head, running the flat of my tongue along the length of Grant’s shaft, and he whimpers when I flick it over his cockhead and then around the underside.
“Vlad. Vlad, I’m so close, please. Please, please, please…”
I take him in my mouth again. All of him this time, and I want to gag when the head of his cock bumps the back of my throat, but I suppress the urge.
Grant cries out my name, making my cock throb between my legs, and he pulls so tightly on my hair that I almost lift my head and let him fall from my mouth.
I do not. Tears sting my eyes, my own arousal a beating drum thudding through my body, but I watch through the haze as Grant comes, shooting down my throat.
He squeezes his eyes shut, mouth falling open, and a flush spreads from his cheeks down his chest and he’s beautiful, so much so that it almost hurts to look at him.
I swallow every drop I can and suck until he squirms and pulls my hair with more intent. He doesn’t let go when I pull off, using that leverage to hold me in place.
“Fuck, that was incredible.”
“Good.” I stroke his inner thigh. “I would want nothing less.”
Grant huffs a faint laugh, eyes falling to where my cock stands heavy between my legs. My pyjama bottoms are bunched around my thighs, the whole thing rather undignified, but it does not feel that way when his gaze sears through me.
“We don’t have time for everything I want,” he says.
“Not tonight, perhaps.”
“What do you want?”
I know what he means. His hand, his mouth, his—Well. I will not fuck him until we have time. It is not the be all and end all of sex, I know that, but I know too that it is important to me. I want to wait. I do not want this job hanging over us when we lie together that way for the first time.
“Fuck, come here,” Grant says, apparently more impatient than I am. He does not let go of my hair as I shuffle up the bed and awkwardly straddle his thighs. No, he uses that grip to tug my head down, to one side, and when his lips land on mine, his hand curls around my cock.
I let him take control. I want him to. It is novel to hand myself over to a lover like this, to worry for nothing but the way his grip feels around me, hand still so warm, and the way he bites at my lower lip whenever he pulls back.
He might be beneath me, but somehow he is still surrounding me, possessing me, and some beast deep within me is tremendously satisfied by this fact.
I groan when I am close, hips thrusting into his hand, but Grant does not hesitate or slow. He growls and kisses me harder, hand moving faster, and when he tugs my hair again, sharply enough that I gasp into his mouth, I come, too, spilling over his hand and onto his stomach.
Panting, shaking, I rest my forehead against his. Grant grins up at me, bumping our noses and mouths together, not true kisses, just pressing skin to skin.
Sweat cools, hearts slow, and I wrap my arms around Grant’s neck, leaning my chest against his.
“We should do that again sometime,” he murmurs, then laughs at the expression on my face. “If we had time right now…”
A jolt of heat goes through me, but I kiss his temple and do not give in to temptation. I want to. It is all I want. “We do not, do we?”
He reaches over and picks up his phone, then groans and drops it again when he sees the time. “Absolutely not. Even less time if we don’t want Quinn to come in here before we’ve had a chance to air the room out.”
I huff against his throat—I really care little about who knows what we have done—but I understand the logic of it.
“Up,” Grant says, eyes sparkling with mischief as he gently taps my hip. “Dressed. Come on. I’ll even help you shower.”
I kiss him again, letting the touch linger. “Well, how could I say no to that?”