Knowing exactly how I’d like to reward him, warmth floods my belly.
Straightening my back, I arch a haughty brow. “The fruits of your labour are their own reward.” I intone with an exaggerated sniff. The saying was one of our teachers' favourites growing up, and I know it’s going to get a rise out of him.
“Oh, so that’s how it is then?” Nikolo gripes playfully, sitting up and pushing out his lip in a ridiculous pout. “I guess I better?—”
“Hey, Nikolo.” Already on his knees I grab his hand as he tries to get himself up, halting him in his tracks.
“What?”
“I got you.” With one firm tug, I pull him down, sending him tumbling into me. He catches me as he falls, taking me to the ground with him.
Slanting his lips over mine he presses on my jaw with his hand, coaxing me to open for him. With a soft groan, I give in, letting him sweep his tongue inside to taste me. The warmth pooling in my belly spreads, simmering in my veins.
I let Nikolo and his firm grasp on my jaw control the kiss until the need burns me from the inside out. Not once breaking the seal of his mouth on mine, I wind my legs around his and roll us. Gods, the way he goes with it, melting completely underneath me as I straddle his hips. The hard length of his erection taunts me. Grabbing fistfuls of his shirt—whatever I can wrap my hands around—I hold him tight and grind down, shuddering at the lightning bolts of lust shooting through me.
Finally releasing his mouth I kiss and bite my way along his jaw, writhing on top of him for more of that friction. I’mdesperate for more—for everything. Dragging my blunt teeth along his throat I suck on his Adam’s apple.
“Oh Gods—fuck!” Nikolo cries, gripping my ass to pull me down harder against his bucking hips.
I collect the needy sounds like a trophy, chuckling against his kiss-dampened skin and moving on. My downward path, tormenting the strained cords of his neck only drives me harder into his dick, the steely length threatening to bust through the layers of fabric separating us.
His hands squeeze my ass, then grasp my back, before fluttering to my hair and then making their way back to my ass in a lust-addled circuit. Finally one settles long enough on my head to wrench me back from the bruise I’m sucking on his collar bone and drag me up to his lips. The move flattens me on top of him. Whether it’s the shock of my weight, the slide of my tongue against his or just our needy, desperate movements, an errant foot kicks out, hitting the altar table.
Neither of us pause tugging at each other’s clothes. Not until the first crackle of a flame pierces our fog.
“Oh shit!” Nikolo jolts to the side, clipping the tip of my nose. A candle has fallen, igniting the cushion beside his head.
One, or both of us, it’s hard to tell who leads, rolls us again, away from the quickly growing flame, smacking us into the wall.
The fire is easy to extinguish—just a quick wave of the hand—but it does mark the end of our night. After making sure there’s no more impending fire hazards, I see him to the door, pressing a lingering kiss to his lips before I watch him go.
The next couple of weeks follow a similar pattern. Well, without the fire.
Nikolo has spent every free night at the shop with me. Sometimes it’s not even free nights; it’s just whatever free hours he has in between the rest of his life. It’s not an easy feat. Not only is Nikolo busy, the nights are getting shorter and shorter now that summer has begun.
We practice, we talk, we flirt. We make out like horny teenagers on the floor of my ritual room, occasionally with some light grinding or hand action. While I’m living Teenage-Willan’s dream life, I’m absolutely exhausted from the clandestine double shifts. But even though I’m desperate for a full eight hours of sleep, I wouldn’t give my nights exploring magic with Nikolo up for anything.
We haven’t talked about them being a secret—it hasn’t come around by design, but by understanding. For Nikolo, I think he just wants to be able to explore this new thing—reconnecting with magic—without an audience. And I’m not about to out him and take that from him like a total dickhead.
And I’m self aware enough to admit that I like having a part of him that’s entirely mine. A whole new Nikolo—not the boy I knew growing up, or the man I fantasized about, or the hunky, internet famous Hot Vampire Bartender half the city lusts over.ThisNikolo is just for me—something that does dangerous things to my ego.
Less of a boost to my ego—the stall in our progress. With all of our practice, Nikolo can sustain the magical charge flowing up until about his elbow—sometimes even his shoulder—before it flickers away. Considering it’s something he never thought he’d be able to do in the first place, Nikolo’s more than happy with what we’ve achieved. But after spending a rather dull class today thinking about Nikolo, I have an idea of something we can try.
“You ready?” I ask with a deep breath, shaking out my shoulders and hands.
Nikolo holds up a finger and takes his bottle of blood from the altar, making me wait while he drains the bottle.
“Yep. Good to go. Light ‘em up, Teach.” He wipes the drizzle of blood from his lips with the back of his hand and nods to the candles on the altar while shimmying impossibly closer to me.
Squashing down my own excitement, I summon the candle flames—the candles now in much more secure holders—and turn off the overhead light.How long did it take him to learn to remember to physically do those things after he turned? Did he hate it? Would I, if I was a vampire?It’s my last thought before Nikolo snatches my hands up in his, his eyes sinking closed, ready to meditate.
It takes me a second to get past the feel of his cool fingers against mine, to allow my mind to settle. There is always a moment of awareness that he’s not breathing, of the empty energetic space of him and of the visceral feeling of justNikolo. And just like always, I breathe through it, letting the thoughts float through my mind. Nikolo grips tighter, and I reflexively squeeze back. It’s become our pattern. Whatever is going through his brain, he seeks out a stronger anchor in me.
“I want to try something new.” I say, when I feel the shift in the room.
It’s so quiet I can hear Nikolo’s swallow. “Okay.”
The faith he has in me is humbling.
