Chapter 10 #3
“But?” he prompts. It doesn’t take him more than half a minute to figure it out.
“But you want to know if I’m clean? I can’t wave a convenient bit of paper in your face if that’s what you’re asking, but I do normally play safe.
” He covers his face with his hand as if he can’t believe what he’s just done.
His brow scrunches up, and there’s such earnestness in his expression when he finally looks up at me again, I believe him when he says that to the best of his knowledge he’s not infected with anything nasty, and that he’s really bloody sorry about getting carried away and apparently leaving his brain behind in that jail cell.
“We both got carried away,” I reply. It’d be wrong to pin all the blame on him. It takes two to tango, and condoms didn’t enter my thoughts—not for one fleeting second—either.
I remove myself from astride his lap, and roll off the bed intending to take a trip to the bathroom to clean up.
Dylan props himself up on his elbows. He has bed hair, and a five o’clock shadow around his jaw. A flush still stains the length of his cheekbones, and a sheen of fresh perspiration lies across his chest and tapered waist. “I guess that puts an end to the fun.”
His words stop me shy of the bathroom door. I raise my hand and rest against the frame as I drink down the sight of him reclining, the sheets a tangled mess around him. What’s done is done, and if I only have this one night, why would I put an end to things now?
Slowly, I begin to shake my head.
Dylan’s left eyebrow twitches. “What?” he mouths.
“Stay there. I’m not remotely done with you yet. Or maybe don’t exactly stay there. You can open that.” I point to the stack of luggage. “And find out how well Howard’s shopper catered to your needs.”
“You mean see if they packed any condoms?”
I nod.
“Kira…” There’s a smile in his voice.
And one in mine too as I watch him clamber out of the bed to do my bidding. “I am a succubus, remember. That means we’re not done until you’re thoroughly, and utterly, drained. How many times do you think you can come in one night?”
He finds the prize he’s looking for, and chucks in on the bed before stalking towards me on hands and knees. “Come here, you insatiable witch.”
“I need to clean up.”
“No.” He grabs hold of my leg around the calf, before sliding his palm upwards. “You need to let me do that for you.”
Ten minutes later I’m not sure which of us is the demon here, as the way Dylan seems to recuperate his stamina is by sapping me of mine.
Three orgasms in the space of—well not very long at all—is more than my body is used to.
Still, boneless lethargy isn’t going to stop me from groping Dylan’s delectable butt some more.
I don’t think it’s actually possible for me to get enough of this man.
My skin is already buttered with his scent, and he’s dipped inside me bare.
That’s not something I’ve let any other man do.
“Turn over,” I tell him, while we’re lying drooped over one another catching our breaths.
He props himself on his side, but I grab hold of his hip so that I can tip him onto his front. “Hmm,” I sigh squeezing the cheeks of his arse, and resting my head against them.
My antics make him laugh.
I use the tip of my tongue to draw wiggly lines across his skin, and that makes him wriggle and groan.
“I want to rim your arse,” I say. “Is that allowed?”
“Fuck!” His other cheeks flame. “Why—why would you want to do that?”
“Because it’s you.”
He turns his head to peer back at me as much as he’s able without properly turning. “I already told you I don’t like—”
“—being impaled? I don’t have the right appendages for that.” Only a tongue, which I poke out at him.
He makes a snip-snip motion with his fingers.
“What is it you don’t like about it?” I ask, after I’ve given his arse another dozen or so squeezes, and I’ve got him shivering in delight with the circles I’ve been making with my tongue.
“I thought your goal was to turn me on and wear me out.”
Just so. “To do that, it helps to understand what makes you tick.”
I sense the instant stiffness of his body, as previously relaxed muscles bunch. “I don’t like it because it’s something I had forced on me, and that’s as much as I’d like to say about the topic.”
Oh! Oh, fuck! I bite my lips. “Shit! I’m sorry.”
“You know what. I think maybe I’d like to get some sleep.” He wriggles his way out from beneath me, and turns onto his side again, this time facing the wall, having pulled the duvet up to his chin. “It’s been a very long day.”
The only thing for it is to migrate to the same end of the bed and settle down with my head on a pillow beside him. “I didn’t mean to…I didn’t mean to dredge up horrid memories, I was trying to—”
“—distract me from the reality that some sick fuck out there—” he waves his arm in a direction vaguely indicative of the door, “—wants to either kill me, or carve me up. And for what? What have I done to them? What could I possibly have done that would warrant that response?”
I wish I knew the answer, that I could hold him close and whisper something other than hypotheticals to soothe away his pain, but he won’t even allow me to hold him in order to offer comfort.
I spoon against his body, my cheek pressed into the space between the ridges of his shoulder blades, but Dylan has already shut me out.
I might as well be snuggling against a cardboard facsimile.
When I wake the next morning, Dylan’s no longer in the bed. In fact, he’s no longer in the room.