Chapter 12 #2
Swallowing past a dry throat, she fisted him in her hand, pumping his cock from root to tip. Once. Twice. Then more. He was so hard, and she was enamored with the feel of him and the effect she had on him. He was rumbling his pleasure in her ear, his chest vibrating against her back.
Her hand grew slick with his semen as his excitement built, her own body responding to his hands on her breasts. With practiced skill, he kneaded the heavy flesh, his talented fingers rolling and tugging on the sensitive tips.
“You’re gonna make me come,” he warned, his teeth scraping along the top of her shoulder.
“That’s the goal, isn’t it?”
“If all I wanted was an orgasm, I’d have skipped the long walk across the warehouse and accepted the offer I got in the parking lot.”
Her fist tightened on him, and he made a noise that was half groan and half laugh.
Damn him, he knew she hated how females salivated over him.
He was deliberately pushing her in the direction he wanted her to go, and she complied anyway.
Because she had the right to take what other women could only hope for.
Rising, she gained the height needed to position the wide crest of his cock against her. One deep breath later, and she was lowering onto him, her eyes closing as he filled her, stretched her. She was tight in this position, squeezing down on him, making him work to claim her.
His low groan of pleasure was so erotically charged she almost came from the sound of it. It was laced with a whisper of his own surrender, reminding her that they were equally captured by their all-consuming desire. Equally helpless to fight the pull of attraction between them.
With his hands caging her ribs just below her breasts, he controlled the speed and angle of her descent, increasing her awareness of every ragingly aroused inch of him as he possessed her.
As she possessed him in return. Her hair fell over his shoulder, and her hips began to circle without volition.
Her arms came up and behind her to push her fingers into his thick, dark hair.
“Mmm…” She moaned. “Feels so good.”
“There’s more.”
“Yes…more.” Vash went lax in his arms and let him have his way.
He eased her lower, effortlessly supporting her weight.
She wasn’t a small woman. She was tall, with an overabundance of curves.
She’d never in her life felt delicate, but Elijah made her feel more feminine than anyone ever had besides Char.
It was a feeling she relished—to be something other than a vampire, someone other than Syre’s lieutenant.
Once he was buried to the hilt in her, he embraced her from behind.
His arms reached around her and crossed over her chest. Sweat coated the skin between them, sealing them together.
Her thighs splayed along the top of his; his teeth nipped at her shoulder.
Inside her, he throbbed. She was utterly claimed.
She felt it, even though he didn’t say it.
Elijah reached between her legs, found her exposed clitoris, and massaged gently with the pads of two fingers. She climaxed with a breathless cry. His soft growl of satisfaction spurred her hunger, kept her on the edge so that she wanted more. More of him and the way he made her feel.
“I love the way you squeeze me when you’re coming,” he whispered. “You tighten around me…milk me… Do it again.”
Her hands fell to the arms of the chair, and she straightened away from him.
As her body leaned forward, he pressed even deeper, the sensation so exquisitely sublime she almost came again.
She couldn’t explain how or why he was such an aphrodisiac to her, but there was no denying he was.
Everything about him was a delight to her senses, keeping her primed and ready.
His lips slid gently over her back, the tender gesture making her throat tighten. “Ride me, Vashti. Fuck me until I can’t take any more.”
She did, starting out the first half-hour slow and easy as she’d promised, relishing his white-knuckled response.
She lost herself in the rhythmic flux and flow, in the steady lift and fall of her hips…
the in-and-out glide of his body into hers…
the rush and ebb of need as she timed her movements to the sounds of his breathing.
Slowing when he gasped, quickening when he quieted.
She could have gone on like that forever, but the feel of his fingers between them, circling the base of his cock, brought her scattered mind into focus.
He stiffened a moment, then a ferocious orgasm tore through him.
He shook so violently, the chair quaked as if rocked by an earthquake, his teeth grinding audibly, the claws of his free hand piercing the solid metal armrests as if they were made of tinfoil.
He came long and hard…yet he didn’t. The expected wash of heat never followed.
Oh, no, you don’t, she thought grimly, determined to break his steely control.
Vash took his knowledge and skill, his ability to hold back ejaculating even while he climaxed, as a challenge. He was too contained. Too reasoned. While she’d been damn near insensate with pleasure.
Setting her hands over his, she pinned them down with her weight.
Then, she took him. Not like the first time. Never again like that. This time, she chained him with desire, his and hers, and the delights of her body. She drove him hard and fast, giving him no quarter, forcing him to the precipice at a speed he couldn’t back away from.
“Vashti,” he gasped, then he cursed viciously. Swearing at her, telling her to slow down, hold on, give him a minute.
When he came this time, it was harder than before, his breath heaving from his lungs, his legs straining beneath hers as he shot hotly into her. She felt him go off, relished his shout of her name. Feminine satisfaction pumped through her, kicking off her orgasm to catch the tail end of his.
His arms banded around her, crushing her tightly against him. They succumbed to their desire together.
As the sun rose over the desert sands, Elijah found himself greeting the new day in the best shape of his life.
No mean feat, considering he’d been on his deathbed the day before.
His wounds had healed without scarring, and his strength was back in spades.
Whether that was due to the Sentinel blood pumping through him or the lingering charge from a night spent with a warm and passionate Vashti, he couldn’t say.
Fuck me until I can’t take any more.
Hell if Vashti hadn’t taken him at his word.
He’d tried to hold back, tried to make it last. For her sake as well as his.
She’d been enjoying him so much, taking her pleasure with unabashed delight, instinct driving her into a primal state of animal need and desire where her body had silenced the doubts and anger in her mind…
“Alpha.”
He looked over his shoulder at Raze, who wore black dress slacks and a gray silk shirt, the quiet elegance of his attire making him almost unrecognizable. Pivoting to catch the mini-duffel the vampire threw at him, Elijah asked, “What’s up?”
“Let’s go. You can change at the airport after we check in.”
Brows raised, he glanced at Syre’s office door. Vashti had disappeared behind it about twenty minutes before, leaving him to get the last few teams on the road while she updated the vampire leader about her personal plans to visit the Huntington post.
“Her orders.” Raze had the decency to refrain from gloating. “She put you with me last night.”
Ah. Now he knew what she’d wanted to talk to him about before desire distracted them, just as he knew she’d changed her mind and planned on heading out to Huntington with him instead.
Shaking his head, he adjusted his grip on the bag in his hand and grabbed his shades from the desk. Changed mind or not, they had a few things to work out. She needed to learn that making decisions and giving orders relating to him—relating to them—required both of them. “Let’s roll.”
They walked to the door abreast of each other.
The hell of it was, Elijah understood why she’d want the distance, and he understood that it was the information he’d dug up about Charron’s killers that had altered her plans.
If she’d bothered to talk with him about it, he would’ve told her he didn’t care if she was attracted to him for info, sex, or access to the lycans—anything could serve as a foundation for a relationship between them, something he’d decided he had to pursue because he couldn’t keep his hands or his mind off her.
What troubled him was the hour or so they’d spent together after they’d sated their hunger for each other.
An hour during which they’d gone over the teams’ compositions.
An hour during which she hadn’t said a goddamn word about shoving him off on someone else.
He’d even asked her point-blank what it was she had wanted to talk to him about, and she’d evaded the question with a breezy reply.
As Salem had said, they had nothing if she wasn’t going to talk to him.
“Where are we headed?” he asked as they stepped outside.
“Seattle.”
With an earsplitting whistle, Elijah stopped two Jeep Wranglers that were pulling out of the lot.
He approached the first driver and asked for her team’s orders, then switched them with the team in the car behind them.
He tossed Raze’s orders into the mix so that all three teams were reassigned.
Then he reminded the lycans that his cell phone number was programmed in their contact lists.
“Don’t hesitate to call me,” he said to each team, “for anything. Even if you just want to talk, I’m here for you.”
As the two SUVs resumed their exit from the lot, Elijah glanced at his new partner. “Now we’re going to Shreveport.”
Which was apropos, since it was Nikki’s abduction from the city that had first brought him to Vash’s attention and vice versa. Micah had been mortally wounded there, tortured by Vash in an effort to glean Elijah’s identity and location.