Chapter 7 #3
“Well, that might explain why she’s so bitchy.” Elijah’s voice changed, lowered. “But then bitchy is preferable to broken.”
The vamp’s jaw tightened.
“What happened to her, Salem?”
“Ask her yourself, lycan.” Salem’s mouth curved with mocking cruelty. “Until she tells you that, you’ve got nothing but sex with her. You’re just a dick with stamina.”
Elijah was a second away from slamming his fist in the vamp’s taunting face when Salem turned and stepped back into the room he’d crashed into, lifting the warped door off the ground and popping it into the frame with himself inside.
It took Elijah a few minutes and several deep breaths to rein in his volatile mood enough to return to the room he shared with Vash. He pushed the door open slowly and just wide enough for him to slide in. What he saw inside froze him.
Vashti sat on the edge of the mattress, his shirt in her fisted hands and pressed to her nose. She jerked guiltily when he came in, as if she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t. Her hands dropped into her lap, baring her gorgeous tits.
She stood in an agitated rush. “What time is it? We should get going.”
“It’s a little after seven.” He didn’t need a watch to tell him that. His circadian rhythm was instinctively set by the moon, wherever in the world he was, courtesy of the werewolf blood in his lineage. He approached her cautiously, as if nearing a skittish animal.
Her eyes were huge in her face, and even in the dark room, they were shadowed. The stench of fear and pain still clung to her skin, which might have been why she’d buried her nose in his scent instead.
Or maybe she just craved it, as he craved hers.
He could struggle with that craving, even hate himself for it, but he’d learned that ignoring it was too dangerous, leaving him too off-balance and unstable to control himself as he needed to.
He was a creature of instinct, and she called to that primal part of him in a way he couldn’t afford to ignore or marginalize.
“We’re already late getting back,” she said, attempting to turn away as if to reach for her clothes.
He caught her with a gentle but firm grip on her elbow. The feel of her skin against his fingertips was like satin, and a powerful jolt shot through him. “Come here.”
“Elijah—”
Tugging her closer, he gripped her nape and pulled her face into the crook of his neck, where he knew his scent would be concentrated. She inhaled sharply, then sighed. A heartbeat later, she was nuzzling her face into his skin, her lips feathering over his rapidly elevating pulse.
He wondered if she knew how much pleasure her gesture gave a lycan, then decided she didn’t, which was for the best. She didn’t need to have any more ammunition to use against him.
Closing his eyes, he absorbed the feeling of her lush body pressed against him and the blessed lack of tension between them. Her height was just right, and her curves molded into his harder frame as if they were two halves of a whole. A perfect fit…with the absolute wrong woman.
“What do you dream about, Vashti?”
She stiffened and tried to pull away, but he’d anticipated that and held tight.
“Let me go,” she said crossly.
“Not gonna happen.”
“I could make you.”
His hand fisted in her hair, pulling her head back to look into his eyes. “You can ask me nicely, and I’ll think about it.”
“Fuck you.”
“Well, that’s not a very nice way to ask, but okay.”
A laugh escaped her and was quickly stifled, but it was breathtaking while it lasted. Deep and husky, it was rusty, but as full-bodied as she was.
He scooped her up and set one knee on the mattress, then the other, until he reached the center, where he lay her.
Joining her, he stretched out along his side and propped his head in his hand.
He laid the other on her taut, smooth stomach with his fingers splayed, holding her down without pressure while also anchoring her for his questions.
“Who hurt you, Vashti?”
She shook her head. “It’s none of your business.”
“Sure it is. I can’t kill them if I don’t know who they are.”
“It’s not your problem.”
“The hell it isn’t.”
“We screwed around once. Don’t make anything out of it.”
“Actually”—he grinned—“it was more like a dozen screws. Give or take a few.”
“Leave it alone, puppy.”
“Can’t do that.”
Her gaze narrowed. “Shit. You’re a fuckin’ Boy Scout, aren’t you? Saving the world one problem at a time.”
“I’m helping you find the ones who killed your mate, but you won’t trust me with those who hurt you? Am I getting to you, Vash?” he goaded. “Do I make you feel vulnerable?”
“You flatter yourself.”
“So put me in my place.”
Vash took a deep breath, her muscular abdomen lifting into his palm. “Syre took care of it.”
“Took care of what?”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Elijah. It’s done and over with. Ancient history.”
“You’re gonna tell me.” He lifted his hand to her mouth, running his thumb across her bottom lip. He slid it inside when she started to protest. “Maybe not today, but soon.”
He groaned when she sucked on his finger, her bottom teeth scoring over the pad.
His cock lengthened and thickened, remembering what it felt like to have her mouth on him.
She’d taken from him by force what he would’ve given her willingly, but the pleasure had been there nevertheless, his hunger for her so sharp he’d wanted her however he could have her.
But what he really needed was to be gentle with her, and she needed that tenderness, even though she fought so damned hard against it. Fought enough for both of them.
He parted her lips with a gentle downward press of his thumb and bent his head to lick teasingly inside, barely enough for her to feel him. As badly as he’d wanted to devour her in the parking lot the night before, he wanted something softer and sweeter now.
Her hand wrapped around his wrist. “We don’t have time for this. We’ve got a lot to get done.”
Cupping her cheek, he took her mouth in a deep, wet kiss. He kept the pace slow when she tried to speed it up, resisting giving her the swift plunges of his tongue that she begged for with her plaintive whimper and heated enthusiasm.
Instead, he stroked, and he licked. His lips moved softly against hers.
She gasped, slinging one long, lean leg over his hip. “Stop playing with me.”
Elijah rolled over her and pinned her down. Linking their fingers, he restrained her hands on either side of her head. “We need to play, Vashti. I need to. After this last week…the last fucking month, really.”
She stared up at him, looking younger and more fragile than he’d ever seen her. She was ageless, a fallen angel who’d existed for millennia. She’d killed countless beings, some viciously, as she had Micah, and she would kill countless more.
And yet she was soft and lax in his arms, warm and open, exposed for a moment due to a nightmare she’d avoided facing for decades. He wondered if he would ever have her like this again or if she would always be as she’d been last night, brutally determined to objectify him.
And he wondered why he gave a shit either way when he was going to kill her.
“You like me,” he murmured, sliding his tongue along her bottom lip, which was plump and swollen from his kisses.
“I want you. There’s a difference.”
“I like you.”
Vash turned her head away from his mouth. “Don’t.”
“Trust me, I wish I didn’t.” He settled comfortably in the cradle of her thighs.
“You shouldn’t be afraid of liking me. I won’t use it against you except when I need my cock in you.
You’ll like that, too, once I show you how it’s really going to be between us, without all the bullshit you pulled last night. ”
He nuzzled his nose between her breasts, breathing in her luscious scent now mingled with his own. “There’s no chance that our liking each other will change our agreement. You like that about me, too—that I keep my word.”
Her hands lifted to his waist, and he hummed his approval. He was a lycan; he liked to be touched. Petted.
“You’re trying to piss me off,” she said, before sinking a fang into his earlobe.
The sweet nip of pain swelled his dick to the point of aching. Provoked, he rocked his hips against hers, nudging against her cleft. “Why would I do that?”
“You k-know why.” Her slender arms wrapped around him. “I know why.”
Because a pissed-off Vashti he could deal with. It was the newly discovered, tormented one that shredded him. She was so strong and fearless. To see such a magnificent woman reduced to cowering fear offended him deeply, made him want to rip something—or someone—apart.
Her fingers walked down his spine, eliciting a soft growl of pleasure. “Thank you for irritating me.”
“Actions speak louder than words. Touch me, Vashti.”
“Where?”
“Everywhere.” The way he needed her to, but wouldn’t explain, not after the rough night they’d had. He could want her and like her, but needing her was too much.
Didn’t make any damn sense. But then he wasn’t at his best now. In some ways, perhaps, the violent upheaval in his life had left him as raw as she was.
She moaned when he plumped her tit in his hand, then hissed as his mouth surrounded her and his tongue flicked lightly over her hardening nipple.
He also liked to lick.
“Mmm…” She arched her spine, pushing her lushness into his working lips. “You’re a breast man.”
He was a Vash man, but kept that to himself. Instead, he wallowed in her, breathing in the cherry-sweet scent that drove him out of his mind. She responded by pushing her fingers into his hair and kneading his scalp, holding him close.
His eyes closed on a groan. A shudder racked his frame.
“Can you be so easy to pleasure, lycan?” she asked softly.
“Why don’t you try and see what happens?”