Chapter 12 Asher
CORD BALLS UP his fist and punches Smyth in the face, shattering the man’s nose in a spray of blood that blows back on Cord’s face. He doesn’t seem to notice it as he shoves Smyth hard against the wall.
“Wait! Wait!” Smyth protests, trying to push Cord back, but his attempts are futile. I know for a fact Cord is stronger than he looks.
Cord pauses, a maniacal grin on his face. It’s a side to him I’ve never seen before, and I don’t know how I feel about it.
He fists Smyth’s face and leans close, his gravelly voice imperious. “Not really interested in anything you’ve got to say, asshole.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“No? How about this?” He raises a single finger in front of Smyth’s face. “One. You butchered I don’t know how many women in four states over the last twenty years.” He delivers another crushing punch to the face then holds up another finger. “Two. You exposed the Clan with your carelessness.”
Another punch, another finger. “Three, and this one is personal. You inconvenienced me for two days while I tracked your worthless ass down to this godforsaken dump.”
The punch closes Smyth’s left eye and elicits a pitiful whine. “But…we’re vampires. We’re supposed to kill.”
That earns him three quick body blows that double him over. Smyth is wheezing heavily as Cord grabs a chunk of his hair and yanks his head back.
“I don’t know what your sponsor taught you, though I’m damned sure going to find out who he was, but get this through your sick head. We are not here to kill humans.”
“Okay, okay. I won’t do it anymore. I swear.”
Cord chuckles again. “No, you definitely won’t.”
And then he proceeds to beat the hell out of the man, delivering a flurry of punches and kicks until Smyth is writhing in agony on the floor. He whines for a while and then even that goes silent, and still Cord continues to kick and stomp on him until his body is unrecognizable.
When he finally stops, he’s breathing heavily, his knuckles and boots covered in blood, his hair wild around his face.
Throughout this I’ve maintained my position by the door, watching a stranger I’ve known most of my life deliver his own form of justice.
To say I’m affected would be an understatement, but what surprises me is how aroused the violence has made me.
Maybe it’s some latent part of my vampire nature, but I’m actually turned on by this version of Cord.
He unclenches his fists and stares down at Smyth’s mangled body for several minutes, and just when I think he’s lost himself to the violence, he seems to come out of it and turns around, facing me, his normally warm blue eyes steel gray and empty.
I jump back as he strides toward the front door and yanks it open, reaching out to retrieve the axe.
“You might want to step outside for this,” he mutters, and I realize he’s talking to me. I shake my head and stand my ground, and he shrugs and raises the axe in a wide arc before bringing it down on the fallen vampire’s neck.
There’s a sickening crunch of bone, and blood flies everywhere, spraying the walls, the furniture, Cord, and even a little on me.
It takes two swings of the axe to separate Smyth’s head from his body. I swallow back my own disgust, schooling my expression to remain blank. Cord drops the head of the axe on the floor and leans on the handle.
I wait a minute to see what he’s going to do, then push myself away from the wall and step closer to him.
“Cord?” He doesn’t seem to hear me. I reach a tentative hand out and touch his arm. “Cord? Are you all ri–?”
He drops the axe and turns to me, grabbing my tie and pulling me close, his lips crashing into mine. It takes me a couple of seconds to realize what’s happening before I wrap my arms around his neck and press my body against him, my tongue tangling with his.
God I’ve missed kissing him.
The next thing I know he’s tearing my shirt open, his hand sliding down my chest to slip inside the waist of my pants and fist my cock through my thin briefs.
“Fuck,” he growls in my ear. “I fucking want you so bad right now.”
I don’t know who undresses who or how it even happens, but in a matter of minutes we’re skin to skin as he shoves me against the wall and reaches around to finger my ass.
“No lube,” he pants as he bites my lip.
“Don’t care. Fuck me.”
He growls again and turns me around to face the wall. I feel the hard shaft of his cock against my crack as he spits onto his fingers then rubs it in my hole.
“Cord–”
“Shut up. Don’t talk. Don’t say a fucking word to ruin this.”
When the head of his cock enters me, I bite my lip to keep from groaning. Dry fucking is painful, but the fact that it’s Cord makes it easier to ignore the discomfort.
I push back against him, urging him inside, and draw in a ragged breath. My senses are suddenly filled with him, leather and sandalwood mixed with his sweat, and below that, the intoxicating scent of blood.
My cock is rigid against my belly and I rub it against the smooth surface of the wall to get some friction. I want to feel his hand on me. Feel it squeezing me. Pumping me.
But I won’t ask. I won’t give him a reason to stop.
He humps his rock-hard body against mine, shoving his cock all the way in. Seating himself inside me, drilling against my prostate. Dissolving my self-control.
I have all I can do not to come.
But I don’t want to. Not yet. Not before I feel him come apart in me.
His mouth hovers over my ear, his teeth biting down on my lobe, his breath hot against me, sending a jolt of need searing through me.
I feel my control slipping.
He’s always had this effect on me, but this time it’s multiplied by a hundred because it’s been so long.
He pulls out.
Slowly.
Teasingly.
Then slams hard back inside, and my breath catches.
“Fuck me,” I plead before I can stop myself.
“I said.” Slam. “No talking.” Slam.
Or else what, I want to ask. But I don’t risk it. I’ll do whatever he tells me to do just to keep his cock inside me.
To keep this connection between us.
His tongue snakes out and dips into my ear and I whimper at the rush of pleasure it brings me. He reaches his hand up and cups my chin, pulling my face around so he can close his lips on mine.
The kiss deepens, causing my head to spin and my toes to curl. Cord always was a fantastic kisser.
His body molds to mine, his dick thrusting in and out in a staccato rhythm that seems to match my galloping heartbeat, his left hand sliding around to thumb my nipple. I moan, unable to stop myself, especially when his fingers trace down my chest to wrap around my cock.
I nearly come on the spot.
His thumb slides the precum over my head and into my slit, causing my cock to jump in his hand. He chuckles deep in his throat and starts stroking me, slowly at first, then building to match the rhythm of his thrusts.
His mouth pulls away from mine and comes back to my ear, blowing softly on it.
“You like that,” he breathes. It’s not a question so I don’t respond. He knows how sensitive my ears are. How much I love his voice.
His hips grind against me, his cock dredging my ass while his hand jerks me off. His mouth finds mine again and I suck his tongue in, savoring his taste. Wanting to merge with him.
He’s driving me crazy. I want to come and at the same time want this to go on forever because I don’t know when it will happen again.
I feel his cock stiffen, his breath becoming more labored, and I know he’s close.
I’m close.
“That’s it, baby,” he growls in my ear. “Come for me.”
And just like that, I do. He follows right behind me, the heat of his cum filling my ass. His mouth slides down from my ear and closes on my throat, and then I feel his teeth enter me.
My cock throbs again at the feel of his lips working my throat, sucking my blood. For a vampire it’s almost orgasmic.
I stand unmoving, afraid to break the spell. Afraid to remind him who we are and what we’re doing.
All too soon he pulls his mouth away. His cock slides out of my ass and I almost whimper at the loss.
He steps back and I turn slowly, finally facing him. Watching his face for signs of regret. He looks down, pulling up his jeans and tucking himself in. He’s still breathing heavily, his face flushed, his hair a tumbled mess, all but obscuring his eyes.
I don’t move to dress myself. Just stand there and watch.
Taking my cues from him.
I glance down and can see smears of blood on my skin from where his hands touched me. In the heat of passion I’d almost forgot we were standing in a kill zone. I can smell blood on my clothes, though the dark color disguises it.
Cord follows my eyes. When he speaks, his voice has regained his usual control.
“Guess you want to get cleaned up. I’ll call Dante, arrange for a crew to get out here.”
So, back to business.
I pull up my pants and start to walk past him to the hallway beyond the room in search of a bathroom, then stop in front of him.
We stare at each other for a long minute, then I nod, not knowing what I want to say. He returns the gesture, and just like that we’re back where we started.