Chapter Seven
Back in the apartment upstairs in the spacious lounge, Tegan didn’t look around when Oliver came in. She didn’t have to. She stared out the window, and he knew from her stance she expected rejection. “Sorry,” she said. “I had no idea.”
“That’s okay.” He crossed the room and placed his hands on her shoulders, holding her firmly.
He knew that in her previous life, she would never have allowed anyone to touch her in that way, but she turned and let him hold her. Relief swept through him. She needed holding and he knew that, too. “Virginia noticed my reaction.”
“You did spectacularly well. That famous control, I suppose.” He wanted to kick a hole through the nearest wall, or better still, kick a hole through her sister. She’d dropped that morsel deliberately. And he didn’t know why, since Virginia and Tegan appeared to be on very good terms. “Did you tell your sister who attacked you?”
She shook her head, her forehead bowed, her hair clinging to his shirt. It made his protective instincts dangerously strong. She’d never let him look after her the way he wanted to, and if he tried, she’d back away. Fast.
He was walking on eggshells around her, but if last night was any indication, it was so worth it.
She felt so good in his arms. It was only at times like this that he remembered how small she was. Her personality was still huge, and he felt it whenever he entered a room she was in. She’d always had that effect on him. Even when she’d been a hard, buttoned-up sorcerer. During the mission they’d worked on, they’d shared a single bedroomed suite. He’d taken the sofa, telling himself he was glad to do so, but for some reason, he’d brought himself off in the shower more than he was used to, and he’d taken even more showers than usual. Just to keep his lust under control. Not that he’d admitted it at the time. “I told G. Called him before I came back in.”
She looked up then, into his eyes. She had to see the need he felt, but he tried to keep it banked to reasonable levels. “One of us had to.”
“Do you think your sister knows it was Marcus? Did you tell her?”
“No. I never told her who did it, because the head of CAT US asked me not to, but Virginia and me, we’re sisters, you know? She might just be trying to discover it. She knows I was raped. I told her it was classified, and I told her I’d left the situation and I wasn’t going back. But she’s tough. She might be gunning for revenge. If she’s guessed who it was, or if she found out somehow, that would be like her.” She bit her lip.
He hated her to sound insecure and uncertain. He bent and brushed his lips over hers. Even that brief taste of her sparked his hunger, sending a rush of energy down to his cock. “You did well. We need to contain this until we know more. If G suspects Virginia knows, he’ll arrange to have her moved.”
She nodded. “I know. But she could be of help, you know. As I said, she’s tough.”
“So were you.”
She moved imperceptibly closer, and he held her more securely. “I was, but she won’t get caught until she’s done whatever it is she’s planned to do. She’s very good at her job, never gets involved with a client. She’s very careful when she’s on duty, never goes it alone when she has a male client, although she will in public. She knows how dangerous it is to her. Not that she could be attacked, but she could be blackmailed. She has some influential clients, and sometimes they’re at odds and they could use her to get to the opposition.”
“Clever woman.”
“She is.”
“Were you brought up together?”
“For the first five years. Then I went to a school that trained us up to standards that could have broken a lesser Talent. Even if I’d chosen not to take the way of the virgin, even if I’d orgasmed and lost it, I could have still been powerful and worth the training, or so they told me.”
“So they didn’t insist you remain a virgin? You didn’t have to make the decision at five?”
Her brief hesitation spoke volumes. They’d put pressure on her, for sure. Virgin sorcerers brought power, influence, and money to the sorcerer community. “Not really. Just showed me what I could be. And I couldn’t see anything in sex. It was messy and embarrassing. At least, that was what I thought.” She touched her tongue to her lower lip, a gesture that would be deliberately provocative in any other woman, but he didn’t think she knew how devastatingly sexy that small gesture was. “Until I met you.”
Unable to resist a moment longer, he pressed his lips to hers, urging her to open so he could taste her. It seemed she had the same idea, because she hooked one arm around his neck, holding him close while he cinched her waist to drag her into his body. Anything to soothe his erection, which was beginning to hurt. It sprang up like an eager puppy every time he was around her. He could only hope that particular reaction would go off a bit in time. As it was, when he’d sorted through his suits that morning, he’d chosen one with looser pants.
He traced his tongue around her mouth, teasing himself with the promise of a deeper taste, and her little moan sent him into heaven. Or somewhere close, if angels did this. It didn’t seem fair to deprive them of this kind of pleasure.
Taking his time, he savored her, although what he really wanted was to tear off her clothes and take her here, on the floor or the sofa. But that wasn’t fair for her second time. As far as he was concerned, it was her second time.
Letting his outer mental barrier down, he entered her mind, gently alerting her to his presence as he did so. She welcomed him as fully as she’d accepted his mouth, openly and wholeheartedly. How had he ever thought her cold? She’d banked all this down, and if he wasn’t mistaken she had a naturally passionate nature, one she must have worked hard to control.
She didn’t have to anymore. And he never had. That could lead to dynamite, and he would be there when it happened. Some explosion.
When he deepened the kiss, she cooperated, and he sensed no reticence or fear in her mind. Only eagerness. He sucked on her tongue, and she came to him, crushing her breasts against his chest. His still clothed chest. He wanted skin.
With a low growl, he scrabbled at her top, found the buttons that fastened the soft T-shirt half way down, and dragged them apart. Not enough. He needed more. He cupped her breasts through the fabric, pushing her away just enough to get hold, then slipped his arms around her waist again, grabbing her buttocks and spreading his hands over the luscious curves. He pulled her closer and ground his cock against her stomach, desperate.
She sent him higher faster than any woman had since his desperate adolescence.
With a push, she broke the kiss and stepped away from him, but still, she wasn’t afraid. Keeping his mind firmly in hers, he watched her grasp the cotton fabric and drag it over her head.
“If this was night time, that would be in shreds on the floor.” His voice came out as a low growl.
Her eyes sparkled, and she smiled. “I want you to do that sometime. Tonight? If I dress up for you?”
The thought of tearing an expensive scrap of silk off that body gave his hard-on an extra boost and he groaned. “Wear something seductive.” His gaze roamed the sweet curves of her breasts, covered with a white cotton bra. “So pretty. Take that off.”
Her saucy smile told him a huge amount, and if he hadn’t been monitoring her mind, that alone would have told him she’d tucked fear well down in her mind. Forgotten in the tide of lust that swamped them both. She put her hands to her jeans and slid the button undone, but that was the extent of her teasing.
He ripped off his jacket and tossed it over a nearby chair before starting on his shirt. Watching each other, panting their need, they stripped, nothing teasing about the way they tore off their clothes to get naked as fast as possible. Skin on skin became the most important thing in the world.
Then he was on her, groaning in relief as his chest touched her breasts, as he felt her pussy graze his thighs. That was what he needed.
She stood on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. “Fuck me, Oliver.”
“Oh God, you witch, I can’t do anything else.” Lifting her, he set her ass on the back of one of the sofas, which was much stronger than the ones downstairs. He doubted the dainty gilt-edged furniture in the drawing room would stand up to this and blessed his foresight in buying something a bit more robust for his private quarters. She opened her legs for him before he asked, and he stepped between them, bending to kiss her again and sweeping his hands over her hot, soft body. “Every inch of you is completely edible.” Oh, yes, that was what he wanted. She must know about oral sex. And even if she didn’t, she was about to learn.
He took a nipple into his mouth, sucked hard, and then released it, let the wetness meet the cooler air, and heard her gasp with a satisfied murmur of his name. He treated the other differently, sucked gently and then nipped, making her give a sharp cry at the shock of it. Down farther, to her hips and that sweet indent of her navel. He wanted to discover where she was most sensitive. Every woman was different, and until now he’d delighted in discovering the differences, seeing what would turn his partner, or sometimes partners, on and how. He’d reveled in playing, and he could perhaps let his inner cat play a little.
Vampires usually had bats and owls associated with them, but Oliver had always felt more of an affinity with the feline. Playing, teasing, and sometimes hunting down with a ruthless intensity. She tasted salty around her hips, just a touch. When she clutched his neck, he gave a low laugh and found her slit with his thumbs, easing the swollen lips apart to reveal the treasure within.
Then the vampire took hold. He hungered for her as he never hungered for the blood that sustained him. He wanted this, as if he needed it to live. One lick and he knew he’d remember that taste for life. She moaned and grabbed a handful of his hair with one hand. He hoped she was using the other to keep her balance on the sofa. He didn’t want her to suddenly tip backward and deprive him of this feast.
He could take a woman with finesse, but all that left him. He just wanted. All he cared about was having her, making her his. Then he’d lock her away in a section of his heart nobody had ever touched before, the place reserved for her. Because whatever came of this, she was there now. A part of him would always belong to her, whether it be at a distance or by his side.
He devoured her, ran his tongue down her pussy from top to where her body opened for him and then back to take the hard knot of flesh into his mouth and suck. Her clit was hard, ready, and she was seeping wetness all over his mouth. Gorgeous. Tart apples, a hint of spice—clove, nutmeg? Fucked if he knew. Making sure not to muffle the sounds he was making, he slurped, and she responded, her hand tightening in his hair. Any more and he’d lose a handful. If he did, he’d frame the clump and put it on the wall, call it modern art, make her look at it and remember.
Sucking her clit, flicking the hard bead at the tip with his tongue, he slid one hand up her thigh, working as slowly as he could to her pussy, which wasn’t very slow at all. He inserted a finger, crooking it slightly, feeling for that spot he knew was in there. But he’d only felt it with his cock last night, so it took a minute before she screamed out. “Oh, God, no, Oliver, it’s too much?”
Are you sure?
“No, fuck, oh no, if you stop, I’ll kill you.” She loosened her hold a little, released his head after a caress, stroking through his hair. “I have to hold on.”
You said it, sweetheart. Her thighs tightened around his head, but not so much that he couldn’t move, although breathing was getting difficult. Not that he cared. His breath gusted across her hot flesh, and he sucked hard, pushed deeper, and inserted a second finger. Now he could use them better. He could feel her excitement grow, her arousal heading fast to a peak he knew would be inevitable. This time he’d send her there on her own, but next time he was coming with her.
Scissoring his fingers, he opened her, made her squirm, and felt her rise higher. One more touch and she’d give it up. Remember when you came last night? When I was deep inside you, fucking you senseless, my cock as deep as it would go?
That did it. Her pussy spasmed around his fingers, hard, frantic clenches, one, two, three, and then another, harder than before. And she was done. So was he, nearly, holding on by bare force of will. He didn’t want to spend into the carpet under his knees. He wanted to give it to her.
He kissed his way up her body, not sure how she’d feel about kissing his mouth. She was new to this, although she was learning fast.
But she wrapped one arm around him and then two, when he curved his arms around her sweet body, and without hesitation drew him down for a deep, luscious kiss. Plunging her tongue into his mouth she left him in no doubt that yes, she’d kiss him and yes, she’d love her taste on him.
Jesus, he wouldn’t survive her at this rate. He wasn’t sure he wanted to.
With a cry into her mouth, he pushed his cock into her, her body wet and eager for him, ready to go again. And he’d make sure she did. He cupped her bottom and held her steady while he thrust into her, his hard, needy strokes sounding wetly in the quiet of the room.
She tilted her head rested against his shoulder so he could deepen the kiss and taste her in his turn, the sweet taste of her body mingling with the flavor of her mouth. He finished the kiss so he could look at her, at how passion changed her expression, her dark eyes darker, her lips plump and full, the delicious rose his fucking brought to her cheeks. Cheeks he wanted to kiss again and again to feel their soft texture against his lips.
He pounded into her, deeper, remembering to tilt her body so he hit that spot, working her toward another climax. As many as he could give her before he couldn’t hold back anymore.
Only one, but fuck, it was a good one. She clutched him and screamed, just as he’d dreamed of making her.
And he was done. He poured his very essence into her, gave her everything he had, and collapsed, limp against her. Before he could recall where they were, she’d fallen back with a squeal of alarm and they ended up in a tangle of limbs on the sofa, laughing.
****
Oliver turned his head to gaze at his lover. “Sorry.”
“What?” Tegan asked.
He’d carried her into the bedroom and called it a day after contacting the office to say he wouldn’t be back. They took a quick shower, then he tucked her into bed and joined her. She lay with her head on his shoulder, half dozing. He turned his head and dropped a kiss on her nose. “I didn’t use protection.”
“I don’t mind. Actually I liked it.”
“You know I’m immune to disease.”
She chuckled. “Yes.”
He grinned. “But I could make you pregnant.”
“It’s unlikely.”
“Unlikely, sure, but possible.” He watched her carefully, waiting for the denial on her face, any sign she wouldn’t welcome it.
“Did you do it deliberately?”
He shouted with laughter. “I wanted to make love to you, yes. But I didn’t leave off the condom deliberately. I didn’t want you to go off the boil, and I didn’t feel any rejection in your mind.”
She stared at him, and he ventured to slip into the outer layer of her consciousness. He loved her slight smile when he did it, and her warm, sweet mental welcome, as if it stretched to accept him, just as her pussy did with his cock. But she still had her essential resilience, that strength that had drawn him right from the start. “If you do get pregnant, you must decide what to do. I’ll support you whatever you want.”
This time he felt a slight zizz of shock. “You wouldn’t mind if I aborted a vampire’s baby?”
He’d revealed too much, but strangely, he didn’t care. For a man who kept his deeper feelings close to his chest, that was huge. “I won’t fight you if that’s what you want.” He’d hate it, because of the vampire imperative to breed, but he’d accept her decision. She might not be strong enough to cope right now.
She came up on one elbow and laid her hand flat against his chest. Under her hand, his heart beat hard and fast, and it had nothing to do with their recent bout of lovemaking. He let her in a little deeper. Not all the way, but she deserved what he could give her. “You gave me something important, Oliver. I want to give you something back. Besides, I’m thirty-five, and while I never considered motherhood before, never dared to, I wouldn’t regret it if I got pregnant.” She bit her lip, as if biting back words. He wouldn’t push her to tell him what she felt reluctant to, because he was holding back, too. It shouldn’t come now. They needed time, both of them.
“Would you let me in?”
“Yes.” She said that so fast on the heels of his question that he knew she didn’t have to think about it.
But what a fucking mess. He wouldn’t watch a woman age and die. Ageing he could cope with, had coped with in the past, but nobody this close. Dying, no. But he did have one more choice. It said a great deal that he was, for the first time in his life, giving it serious consideration. If they bonded, they’d share a lifetime, and if he bonded with a mortal, it would be her life, since a mortal body couldn’t bear the longevity of a vampire’s lifetime. Of course, far too early, far too much, but for the first time he thought about the possibility and if he could ever go through with it.
Time to lighten the discussion. So he kissed her and said “Thank you,” nicely, just as his mother had taught him. He didn’t have to go over the top or tell her how much that meant to him. She knew. Vampire fertility was so low that every baby was precious, even the ones that were born mortal. They had Talents of their own.
“Maybe we ought to start practicing,” she said, sliding her hand down his chest.
Already her boldness enchanted him. He let her play, touching and exploring his body, smoothing her hand across his chest, raising the curling hairs there. He tracked the warmth, followed it down to his navel and shuddered when she kissed his stomach. “That feels so good.”
“You don’t mind?” She sounded anxious, and he could see it tingeing her mind.
He stroked her cheek, gazed down at her body and her breasts, just grazing his body. “Mind?” He laughed. “Are you mad?”
Her laughter mingled with his. He loved that they could go from a serious conversation to laughter, as if an invisible musician was conducting them.
And when she tasted him, laughter fled, replaced by sheer pleasure. It swamped him when she swept her tongue over the tip, pushed down his foreskin so she could get to the flanged head, and circle it with her tongue. He gasped, jerked up, and heard her voice in his head. Are you more sensitive here?
Than what?
Than an uncut person?
I’ve never considered it, but I beg you, don’t stop. Please. He’d die if she stopped. Most men of his age were uncut, even the Americans, but he understood circumcision was the norm these days. He’d never been tempted to have it done and he was glad, because if that small bit of extra protection made him more sensitive, then bring it on. Bring—It—On.
She opened her mouth wide to take him in and wrapped her hand around the base, pumping as she sucked, driving him out of his mind. He had no idea why this should be any different to the other times a woman had given him a blowjob. And they had, many times. But he couldn’t remember the details anymore, couldn’t remember any fucking thing except the sensation of Tegan’s wet mouth around his needy cock.
If she carried on like this, he wouldn’t get inside her before he came. But would he be working her too hard? He had to remember how new she was to all this. He’d make her sore, and he never, ever, wanted to cause her any pain. Not even a twinge of discomfort.
She must have read his thoughts, he must have let them float up too high, to the level he was opening for her. Too late, but it’s a wonderful soreness. It doesn’t hurt or irritate. It just reminds me what we’ve done. I want it to last a bit longer. You are not to come, Oliver. You hear me?
I hear you. He didn’t try to hide the note of amusement that touched him when she gave him orders. Not that she couldn’t command, just that she did it in these circumstances. Took control.
And oh, how fucking glad he was that she did! Except the not coming bit, because she brought him right to the edge. Not the most inventive blowjob he ever had, but the best. By far the best. Watching her mouth move on him drove him crazy, and he reached down, tangled his fingers in her hair, and rejoiced that at last he had the power to do so. He felt her in his mind, sensing and testing, and just before he passed the point of no return, she released him with a pop.
Cold air gusted over the wet tip, pushing his climax a little further back, into controllable territory again. But she still held him and she lifted herself up, knelt over him, and lowered her body carefully on to his. He caught his breath audibly when her pussy touched his cock head.
“You are soaking,” he managed to croak.
“I can’t think of anything better than the way you respond to me,” she said and gave a little laugh. “I even caught the bit about the lack of invention. I’ll try better next time.” She swept her hair behind her shoulders and sank down on him.
He gripped her hips but didn’t control her. “You set the pace. I just want to hold you.”
She paused half way down, panting a little, but when he would have helped, she pushed some more and sank right down, so their pubic hair meshed and his balls met the wonderful curve of her ass.
She would have moved, but he applied a very slight pressure, enough to tell her but not to take over. “Just a moment.” In truth, he wanted to savor her and to commit everything to memory. Every touch, the way her pussy surrounded his cock, caressing it with unimaginable warmth and softness. Metaphors were useless because there was nothing like this.
But she bit her lip and moved, and it was even better. He didn’t have to guide her so carefully tonight, watching her every emotion, the joy that crossed her features when she managed to find her sweet spot, always alert for discomfort or fear.
She showed none, and he didn’t expect her to. So he moved with her, held his body rigid for her, and made a sound, low in his throat, when she began to rise and fall in a rhythm guaranteed to drive him demented. Completely and utterly fucking demented.
He slid his hands around from her hips to her ass, gripping the glorious curves tightly because he needed something to hold on to. Either that or the headboard, and he wanted her. Without conscious thought, he touched the crease between her cheeks and watched her eyes gain an extra sparkle and her mind heat a little bit more.
Oh-ho. Something interesting. She might welcome him there, in time. Patience, you dickhead. Patience. And he made sure she didn’t pick up that particular thought.
But tonight, he would see if she would take a little play.
He would have her, all of her, before he’d done.
So with purpose, he stroked the upper line of that sweet cleft, where the top of her ass met her spine, and then ventured lower, taking it easy, watching and monitoring and enjoying what he found. She liked it. No mistake about that. He ventured lower, into the deeper mysteries until he met her rosebud. Tiny, sweet. Untouched. He would adore it, rim it until she relaxed for him, tease the ultra-sensitive skin. Give her what they both wanted.
Just as she was doing now. Because he could easily have lived without that, but not her sweetest part, the wet, open enclosure meant just for him. They fit. So well, he couldn’t imagine a better.
“Good?” She gasped, slightly out of breath.
“You know it is. Just keep going and tell me when you’re done.”
She gave a shaky laugh. “Done? I’m only just starting.”
On the other hand, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could go for. Usually, if he could resist his first impulse to orgasm, he could go on much longer before he came, but she kept him on the brink, and every moment he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t come. Torture, but such sweet agony he never wanted it to stop.
He circled her ass, stroked the soft, silky skin there, and felt her shudder in response. “I won’t go inside, not tonight. But I want to explore it sometime soon. Very soon. I want to go there, Tegan.”
Her shudder told him she would welcome him there, and a touch of fear shadowed her mind, but he was learning to read her. This was good fear, the kind that faced the unknown and took hold of it, claimed it for its own. He let his fingernail graze her, just very slightly, close to scratching, but he wouldn’t show her the full joys of that. Perhaps she wouldn’t like it. Not that he cared.
Exploring her like this was enough, finding out with her what she liked and what she didn’t. Taking their time, working toward the ultimate climax, the one that always got away, always remained just out of reach. Except he wasn’t sure that would be the truth this time, because it was closer than ever before.
He cried out his joy as he came, as her body pulsed around his in steady, deep throbs that matched his own. He’d heard a lyric in a song once, something about the singer not knowing where he ended and she began. He’d thought it crap. Right up to this minute, when he realized the truth and took it with both hands.