Chapter 38 Arabella #2
“Sinead has been on the receiving end of many of these toys,” Gideon says. “The parties we host here can get a little… raucous. There’s a reason Sanctus has an eager team of Thralls. Blood and sex are a potent combination.”
As the word blood falls casually from his lips, I lose myself in fantasy.
The last time I knew Gideon, I had to hide my true nature from him.
But we are both Upyr now. Visions come to me unbidden of the two of us sharing a Thrall, taking turns to sip from their neck while we tease each other and kiss with their sweet blood on our lips.
You know, wholesome family stuff.
I banish the vision. After tonight, it will never happen. Gideon will hate me, the way I hated him after he betrayed me. All I have left is this moment. And I will sup every last drop of pleasure from it before I destroy our second chance.
Gideon’s free hand slides slowly down my body, stopping over my lingerie. He strokes his fingers idly over the fabric, and I am utterly at his mercy.
“You’re soaked,” he whispers with awe. “For me.”
“Will you stop with that false modesty? It’s annoying.”
That grin again – the grin that undoes me. “If you wish.”
From behind his back, something vibrates.
At first, I think he’s getting a phone call, but then Gideon whips his hand out.
He’s holding a small beige cone about the size of his palm.
The ripples surge as he moves it closer to my clothed pussy.
“This is my favourite. It can either go inside of you, or I can find other ways of using it.”
“Gideon.”
He lightly presses the vibrating toy to my skin and even through my panties I feel a jolt. My hips jut forward, chasing the release.
“You like that, Arabella? You want more of this against your pussy?” He slides aside my underwear and brushes the cone over my clit. It vibrates against the sensitive skin, just enough to drive me wild, but not enough to give me any kind of satisfaction.
“You’re trying to make me beg,” I grit out.
“Maybe.” He takes the cone away. I buck my hips forward. My orgasm teeters on the edge of spilling over.
“I hate you. You are the vampire form of crumbs in a coffin.”
“Is that any way to talk to the man who controls this little toy?” Gideon grins as he presses the cone against my clit, hard enough to make the vibrations echo through my body and carve out a hole in my belly before taking it away again.
My legs tremble. My veins are on fire. I’m this close and that rat bastard…
“Everyone who ever loved you was wrong!” I scream at him. “Put it back or I’ll curse your entire bloodline.”
“Too late for curses, I’m afraid. If you would only ask nicely.” Gideon swipes the cone lightly over me, making my hips jerk.
That bastard. That bastard. I take back every nice thing I thought about him.
“Gideon?” I manage to breathe. “Please…”
“Please, what?”
“Please… let me come.”
“How would I do that? Are you wanting me to hold this against your clit?” he asks, running the tip of the cone along my pussy lips.
“Y-y-yes.” My voice quivers.
“Hmmm. And are you going to be a good girl for me if I let you have this orgasm?” He slides the silicone toy into my entrance, not deep enough for any relief, just making me want it more.
“I’m no girl, and I’ve never been good, so I don’t intend to start now.”
“Pity,” he tsks. “That’s not the answer I wanted.”
He steps away, bending as if he’s going to put the device away.
Rat bastard.
“Please? Please! I’ll be your good girl.”
“Pardon? I can’t hear you.”
“I’ll be good. Just let me come!”
“That’s my very good girl.” Gideon’s hand goes around my neck, angling my head up to devour my mouth as he turns the vibrating cone up high and plunges it against my awaiting clit.
My orgasm bursts from the well of my stomach, fire racing along my veins. I strain against the tie as my body jolts. Gideon wraps one arm protectively around my waist, his lips never leaving mine. He swallows my scream with far too much satisfaction.
He doesn’t remove the cone, but moves it across my clit again and again until I come a second time with several hard, shuddering spasms that eventually recede into an unfamiliar warmth in my stomach and thighs.
But it’s nothing compared to the warmth in a pair of cobalt eyes as they regard me with awe.
“You’re so beautiful when you come for me.” Gideon pumps the toy in and out of me, driving me towards a third orgasm. But just as the wave of pleasure begins to crest, he abruptly pulls the toy out, letting it fall on the floor.
I whimper. “I was so close.”
Gideon crushes his lips to mine as he kicks off his trousers. Next are his boxers. His cock springs free. He’s as long and hard and beautiful as I remember, his tip purple and glistening with precum.
“You are close?” he groans, taking himself in his hand as he kisses a trail of fire along my neck.
“You need this? You have no idea what need even is. You like this… alive and perfect and all wrapped up for me like a gift – it’s all I’ve ever wanted.
It’s the wish I fall asleep to and the dream that wouldn’t die.
We’re not soulmates, Arabella. The gods didn’t bring us together.
I willed you back to me. I knitted the threads of fate together with the sheer force of my desire to see you again. ”
He squeezes my arse in his hands, pushing me up to deepen our kiss.
“You are insufferable,” I groan against his lips. “Shut up and fuck me.”
“Gladly.”
His hand on my arse grabs the string of my G-string and snaps it. He tosses the fabric away as if it offends him. He’s just ruined the most expensive square inch of Italian silk and lace, but I don’t yell at him. It did the job I wanted it to – it brought Gideon Blake to his knees.
Both his hands go beneath my derrière, lifting me and pressing my back into the pole.
He wraps my legs around him. I lock my ankles together, bringing his hard cock against my bare pussy.
I can’t help but stare down at the space between us, the place where we are almost joined, skin to skin and heart to heart.
And then Gideon’s hand is no longer underneath me but on my chin, a single finger lifting my head, forcing me to drown in those cobalt eyes.
In one firm stroke, he thrusts forward, and he’s inside me.
The century and a half between our last meeting and now narrow to a single point. I’d forgotten how good he felt, and I remember everything. I remember the way he bites his lower lip when he’s fucking, and the way his body wraps around mine as if it’s a Worth gown made to my exact measurements.
I remember all the ways going to bed with Gideon feels like dancing, like losing myself in the music. His cock inside me is a symphony, his little groans an opera written just for me.
“Gideon,” I growl, and then his name is all I can say, over and over as his cock slams into me, stretching and taking and giving. “Gideon.”
Am I begging forgiveness? Am I demanding more? Am I saying goodbye?
“You said to Winnie once that you’re not chill,” he whispers against my lips as his hips buck against mine. “Lucky for you, I am chill. Every time you say my name like that, I want to braid our bones together. That’s chill.”
“Oh yes, the chillest.”
The pole creaks as I hang my weight from my arms while Gideon Blake thrusts into me with all the force of a vampire coming undone.
Sweat rolls down his cheek, gathering at the rumpled collar of the silk shirt he still wears.
I slide my hands beneath it, feeling the hard planes of his body and the muscles straining and working as his cock does glorious things between my legs.
And then he thrusts his hand between us, pressing his fingers to my clit, stroking that sensitive bud until I see light behind my eyes.
“Give me another one, Arabella,” he purrs.
“Come with me so I can feel you squeeze my cock while I fill you.” Gideon strokes my clit with those sure, experienced fingers.
I squeeze my thighs around him, drawing him deeper, even though I’m worried that he’s too deep already, that he lives inside me now, and I’ll never be able to scour his memory away once he hates me for betraying him.
This orgasm doesn’t begin in a hollow place in my stomach, but in my chest. It’s a dull, warm pain thawing the icicles around my heart and spreading through my limbs as my body arches and contracts around Gideon.
An otherworldly noise tears from my throat, and Gideon swallows it down as he moans his orgasm back at me.
We kiss and we hold each other as our bodies tremble, as he thrusts so deep that I see the cosmos, as his lips slip from mine but find me again.
I taste blood and touch the sharp point of his fangs with my tongue and he touches mine and both of our lips are bleeding, immortal blood mingling, heightening the pleasure until it seems as if Gideon is correct and I must be a goddess, because I’ve made the earth stop spinning and invented a whole new level of pleasure hitherto unknown.
We reach that level again, and again, the hours falling away as Gideon looks up at me with eyes filled with worship.
Finally, I drop my legs from around him. I can’t feel my toes. We’ve moved to one of the velvet couches, and as he tightens his arm around me so I don’t slip off, I notice the time on his watch. It’s an hour past sunrise. I just have to hold on a little longer.
Gideon may have outlasted me before, but this time, I’ve used every one of my considerable tricks to wear him down. His arm weighs heavy across my stomach.
I sit up, testing my shaky legs, then stagger towards the bar. “More blood?”
Gideon tries to follow me, but his legs won’t take his weight. He flops back down on the sofa.
“Mmm, yes, please. You’re not the only one whose legs don’t work,” he murmurs, his words slurring a little as I hand him a glass. He tucks me under his arm, pulling me against him, the same way he once curled his body around me when I was recovering in Sarah Bernhardt’s bed.
I turn so that I’m facing him, our legs tangled together. It’s there now – a white film at the corners of his eyes.
I don’t want this. I don’t want to think about those beautiful things he said to me, or the ache between my thighs or the way my clit is utterly punished, unable to have another orgasm even if I tried. I don’t want to know that I’m walking away from all this, from him.
But it’s too late.
I can’t fight the sunlight, or my own nature.
“Hey, don’t look so sad.” Gideon touches my cheek. When he pulls his fingers away, I see the tips are wet. I’m crying. Why am I crying?
He looks shocked by the tears, too. His arms circle me, and he pulls me against him, and all I want to do is freeze time.
“I’ve got you, Arabella,” he murmurs. “The sun will set again, and I’ll be right here beside you. I’m not ever going to let you go again. I love you.”