Page 136 of You’re So Vein

“Augustin!”

“What?” He spreads his hands in mock innocence. “You were complaining about the seat. I am more comfortable than a throttle in your nethers.”

“Hardly. You’re all knees and elbows.” I grip his shoulders and wriggle about on his lap, and he lets out another of those addictive groans.

“And yet you continue to hold on,” he says, eyes bright with wicked delight.

“It’s my survival instinct.”

“Is that what you’re calling it?” His voice drops to a low softness I feel beneath my skin. “Or is it your unhinged personality trying to cause trouble?”

The helicopter groans as another gust hits. Augustin shifts, and through some vampire origami magic, he manages to fold his long body in a different configuration that gives us both more room. “There. Now we both fit.”

“That shouldn’t be physically possible.”

“I am highly motivated,” he murmurs, his gaze drifting to my mouth.

“By my unhinged behaviour?” I bend down and graze my lips over his. “It’s because I crave attention.”

“Then let me satisfy your craving.” This time, when he kisses me, there’s a hunger in it, uncoiling from the deep reservoir he keeps restrained. His hand cups the back of my neck, guiding me closer, swallowing down the cold lodged in my throat. It feels as though he’s kissing me not just to soothe me, but because he can’t not kiss me – because he’s finally tasting what he’s wanted for so long.

I moan into him, my body pressing against his. In our little bubble of his vines, I feel safe, protected. And that allows something I haven’t let myself feel bubble to the surface.

Want.

Ever since the night in his garden, this thing between us has simmered, unfinished, too much unspoken. And it would be just like us, given everything about our bizarre relationship so far, to decide that the back seat of a helicopter on the side of a hill during the storm of the century, while he’s still healing from two sword wounds that would kill an ordinary man, is the place where we take off our masks.

But I don’t care. I want him.

My whole body trembles as I look up into his golden gaze. His eyes reflect the flickering lights of the fire blossoms. He meets my gaze with that look that he reserves just for me – a look I used to read as annoyance, but I now see is awe.

I’ve never inspired awe in anyone.

“Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?” he asks, his eyes roaming down my body. My nipples pebble against my flight jacket.

I open my mouth to say something bratty, but all that comes out is a gasp as something that is definitely not a hand tugs at the waistband of my trousers.

Augustin raises an eyebrow in permission. I nod slowly, as his hands come up again to draw my lips to his and his vines work their way under my trousers and knickers.

This is… wild.

Augustin gently strokes my cheek, his kiss so tender as his vines find my clit. They stroke it gently, dancing over each other in a pattern that has me sighing against his lips.

I push my hips forward, wanting more, harder, deeper. Augustin laughs into my lips.

“I like you greedy.”

One tendril dances away, and then it’s back, pressing against my entrance. I moan as it pushes inside me, brushing against the walls of my pussy as the other strokes hard over my clit.

“I guess my vines are good for multiple things,” he whispers against my lips before kissing me again.

The pressure builds between my thighs, almost too much to handle. I buck my hips forward, desperate for release.

Augustin’s hands slide between us, his fingers cold as he unzips my flight jacket and unbuttons the shirt underneath, exposing my breasts between us. More tendrils swoop in, pulling the clothing from my body, unhooking my bra and throwing it in the direction of the controls.

He groans as he pulls his lips from mine, then trails his kisses over my collarbone, scraping his fangs against my sensitive skin. I arch towards him, begging with my whole body.

“Bite me,” I whisper.