What sort of fool was she, a vampire consorting with a vampire hunter?
A very delighted fool, in fact.
She nodded and returned his question, and expression, with a smile of which he would only see a hint in the dim light. The single lamp’s low flame flickered in the corner, casting long, sensual golden shadows.
But he would understand the message.
A shout in the courtyard below drew her attention and she turned back, watching with interest as two grooms fought with a high-spirited stallion that apparently didn’t wish to be saddled. Narcise found herself more than a bit sympathetic for the beast.
Cezar wouldn’t expect her to ever return to England, but even if he did, Chas had assured her that he’d never find them where he was taking her—to a small estate in Wales. He’d recently purchased it anonymously through a man of business.
She felt Chas move behind her, and then his hand was there, smoothing a long lock of her hair away from her face to behind her shoulder. His other hand slid around to her belly and then angled up to cover one of her breasts.
As he bent to kiss the side of her neck, in a place so many others had known, Narcise sighed and reached behind to touch his thick hair. Her breast lifted into his hand and she felt the gentle massage through the man’s shirt she wore.
As the heat rushed through her body, her breathing rose and her fangs slid free. She was aware of the tightening of her nipples, now being pleasured on both sides by Chas’s long, skillful fingers. He pressed into her from behind, his muscular arms enclosing her, pulling her back against powerful thighs and an unmistakable hardness.
When she rolled her backside into him, around and against the hard ridge, Chas rumbled a deep laugh into her ear and moved a hand down to press between her legs. The tight ridingbreeches she wore left little protection from his questing fingers as they slid down and around, cupping her quim. Narcise shifted with a husky groan, pleasure billowing through her like a tufting cloud. Warm and sleek, she swelled and filled there beneath his hand, her head sagging back against his chest.
Nothing like the countless other times, with digging fangs and rough hands in darkness.
This was hot and red and she finally had enough, turning abruptly in his arms. Their mouths met, clashing fiercely, and then subsided into gentle, slick kisses.
When she pulled away, her fangs thrusting, needy, from her mouth, she moved into his arms. His skin was warm and salty, smelled and tasted of wool damp from rain and the smoke of the fireplace below. Her tongue swiped his neck and she slid the outside of her incisors along his skin as she nibbled, not penetrating, not yet.
He shivered, trembling against her, and she reached between them for the raging cock. It was hot and heavy in her palm, and he groaned when she pulled it free, stroking the head with its own little drop of pleasure.
The tendons in his neck tightened beneath her lips and she felt the rush of blood in his veins against her tongue. Her gums had swollen, and they hurt, thrusting her teeth so hard, but she didn’t sink her fangs into that hot brown skin.
“Narcise,” he groaned, pulling her face up to meet his. Their mouths met again, fierce and hungry as he pulled at the flap of her breeches, yanking the square of buttons loose.
Her sharp tooth sliced his lip and warm blood slicked her mouth and his. Rich and lush, just enough to tempt and to send desire raging through her, and she kissed him deeper.
He smiled against her mouth and pulled away long enough to murmur, “Tease.”
She smiled back and sucked hard on his full lower lip just as he managed to pull her trousers away, yanking them down past her knees. “That’s all I need,” she said as they tipped onto the bed.
He gave a soft, pained laugh as she straddled him, her breeches clinging to only one leg. Her hands settled onto his shirt, for he was still fully clothed. Narcise looked down into his hot, focused eyes and slicked her tongue over her lips and the jut of her fangs as she curled her fingers around his erection. Chas tensed and his eyes narrowed in pleasure.
Then she shifted and rose and slipped him inside—the hot, hard length of him. She sighed as he filled her, touching her deep inside in that place…and the tremors of pleasure shook inside her, bursting into heat that flushed through her body.Ah.
Chas groaned, tipping his head back, the tendons in his neck and throat taut and inviting. She shifted, moving her hips slowly, purposely out of rhythm, teasing him just as he was teasing her. One of his hands reached up to pull at her loose shirt, closing over one of her breasts, and his thumb found the jut of her nipple. Pleasure panged in her belly and down as he gently twisted and stroked.
Narcise shifted again, moving up and down and around, and he opened his eyes. “Damn you,” he gasped, looking up with glittering eyes. “Do it.”
She smiled and planted her hands on his heaving chest, feeling the slide of muscle there and the power of his lethal hands on her hips as he helped her in the rise and fall, the sleek slide. Long and easy, as if they were out for an evening ride.
She bent forward, her face near his, the blood on his lower lip glistening. His breath puffed into her cheek, his hands solid at her hips, his own hips moving up to meet hers.
“Do it,” he whispered, turning his face away.
She shifted, scraping her incisors against the smooth heat of his skin, felt his breathing change as he waited for her to sink in. She licked the salt of his flesh, nibbled at the rise of the taut muscle in his throat, felt him tense everywhere…the shift of his breath as he waited.
“No,” she whispered, deep in his ear, and thrust her tongue inside as an apology.
“Narcise,” he begged.
“You don’t want me to,” she told him, tasting his lip again, knowing it was the truth. Knowing how he always hated himself after.
