Chapter 9 #3
I’ve been tortured before, long ago when ignorant villagers hunted vampires and thought they could convince me to give up others.
They failed, and I spent several centuries congratulating myself on my resistance to torture.
Little did I know, all it would have taken was the promise of sex with Noah to convince me to give in.
“No. You were… unsettled and vulnerable”—fucking terrified—“that day, and I thought it might distract you from being scared for long enough to debrief you. Even if you got upset, at least you’d be thinking of something other than Tish and the fact he escaped.
But you got pissed off instead, which was even better.
” I shrug, a little uncomfortable. My intention that day was pretty selfish—we were focused on getting as much information out of Noah about Tish and the CCA as we could so we could track down any remaining enclaves.
We probably didn’t think enough about the psychological impact on him of having to relive so much of his captivity right after his rescue.
Sometimes the greater good has shitty side effects.
“Oh,” he says, sounding relieved. “That’s fine. I thought—” He cuts himself off sharply.
Curiosity rears its head. “What did you think?”
He’s shaking his head before I even finish asking the question. “Nothing important. Now, about the fang thing—”
Nope. As much as I want to talk about—and do—the “fang thing” with him, there’s not a single fiber of my being that will tolerate an unanswered question. Even my cock is prepared to wait—as long as we eventually get to fun stuff.
“Eight centuries of life has taught me patience,” I mock, turning his earlier statement back on him. “Tell me what you thought. Or,” I add when he still hesitates, his jaw setting mulishly, “I will devote all my free time from now until eternity to finding out.”
He shakes his head. “How can you be as old as you are and still act like a little kid?”
Tilting my head, I say, “You seem really hung up on my age today. Daddy kink, maybe?”
His jaw drops.
“Okay, maybe not. Come on. Share. Or we can role-play instead. I’ll be the Daddy, and you can—”
“Whoa.” He holds up his hands. “Not sure I’m ready for that.
” The slightly intrigued gleam in his eyes tells me it might be a conversation for the future, though, and I make a mental note to refresh myself on the whole Daddy/boy thing.
It’s been a long time since I was last in that kind of relationship, and while it’s not a lifestyle choice for me, for bedroom play it’s a lot of fun. “I surrender.”
I smile innocently at him. From the way his eyes narrow, he takes it as a personal challenge, and for a second I think he’s not going to tell me after all. Then he heaves a sigh.
“I thought you were hot,” he admits, as reluctantly as if it was a major crime. “It was kind of weird, after being in hiding for so long, suddenly being able to actually talk to people, and then bam, you were there and I was feeling all… lusty.”
I bite my lip hard to keep from laughing—c’mon, lusty —because he’s sharing something personal and I don’t want to shit on that. But then he snickers.
“Fuck, that’s a dumb word. Horny, then. Anyway, you’re right, I was freaked about Tish and the others that day and still getting used to the idea that I was free, and I was also trying really hard not to let you see that I wanted to ride you like a cowboy.
So when you went from being distantly polite and professional to making snarky comments, I thought maybe I wasn’t as good at hiding it as I thought. ”
I’m warm all over, and it has nothing to do with the ambient room temperature and everything to do with my emotions.
“Okay.” I stop and clear my throat. “Even if I had guessed that you wanted to r-ride me like a cowboy”—which we are definitely doing at some point—“I wouldn’t have started sniping at you.
I would have left and gotten someone else to replace me.
And after a decent amount of time, when you were settled into your new home and job and more stable, I would have come to test the waters and see if anything more was still a possibility. ”
A tiny smile plays over his lips. “Really? You wanted me too?”
“Even when you wanted to strangle me.” I laugh. “I wanted you more when you broke my nose, and not because I’m a masochist. Strong, independent people are my turn-on.”
His grin is wicked. “I’ll be sure to break your nose again in the future, then. Now”—his smile turns seductive—“tell me, do vampires ever bite during sex? Or are fangs just for feeding?”
And whoosh, all the blood drains from my head, my dick once again hard as an iron spike.
“It’s called blood sex,” I tell him, pushing the covers away and shifting to dot kisses along his neck, pausing to lick where his pulse is strongest. “A bite right at the moment you come transmits the pleasure between both of us, magnifying and sharing the orgasm.” I bite down gently.
My fangs are retracted, so it’s nothing more than blunt pressure against his skin, but he moans wildly.
“That usually leads to the vampire coming as well, just a few seconds after.”
He’s panting as I raise my head, his eyes wide. “Fuck, yes. Do you…” He swallows hard, but it seems to be more from arousal than fear. “Do you take a lot of blood? Like, would I need a cookie and juice after?”
The laugh that bursts from me is involuntary and does nothing to crack the sexual tension around us.
“No. How much blood is taken depends entirely on the couple. Sometimes vampires in committed relationships only feed from their partners, usually during sex. It’s the bite and accompanying use of charisma in tandem with orgasm that brings the pleasure—theoretically, no blood need be taken at all.
” I lean down to kiss his puffy pink lips, but he leans back.
“But you’d want to?”
Is this a trick question? What’s the best way to answer that will lead to sex? Because while I’d love to have a taste of him, it’s not a deal breaker—the sex was good enough without needing to add blood to the equation. I can’t even remember the last time I had blood sex.
Oh, wait, yes I can. Because it’s fucking hot .
“I’d only want to if you wanted to,” I prevaricate. “If it’s not going to be fun for you, it won’t be fun for me.”
He hesitates, teeth sinking into that swollen red bottom lip. Jealousy flashes through me— I want to be the one biting his lip.
“Would it hurt?”
I shake my head instantly. “No. That’s the point of charisma, remember? No pain, and we’d share what each other was feeling, so if you hated it, I’d know to stop even if you didn’t say anything.”
His gaze wanders over my face. “Show me your fangs.”
A shiver runs down my spine as I obediently let them descend. He sucks in a breath.
“Do you have to bite the neck?”
I hiss involuntarily, lust slamming into me with the images that question inspires. His eyes widen, and a gasp escapes those puffy lips.
“It—” I clear my throat. My voice has gone all growly. “No. But if we’re having sex, access to other areas might be limited.”
He sidles closer and climbs into my lap, straddling me but keeping careful distance from my dick. “Where else could you bite?” He leans in, staring at my mouth—my fangs?
“Uh…”
He leans back. Don’t do that!
“Anywhere,” I manage. “As long as there’s a vein. Places with a strong pulse beat are better, but not necessary.” Not for a vampire my age, anyway.
“Just one more question.” He’s smirking now, the little shit. He knows he’s pretty much got me over a barrel.
“Ask,” I rasp.
“Can I lick your fangs?”
I surge up, knocking him to his back on the mattress, ignoring his indignant shout as I loom over him.
“Baby, you can lick anything you want.”