Ecstasy in Darkness
Page 30

 Gena Showalter

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He pressed, his erection playing hide and seek with her sweet spot. “You have a good side?” Raw tone, taunting words.
Her next moan was broken, hoarse. “Ha, ha. I mean, if you’re going to prime me up, then demand I give you blood as payment, I’ll kill you. I swear to God I will. And yes, you now have two death threats hanging over your beautiful head.”
He pressed again, silencing her, his cock practically singing at the contact. “If you meant to prime me up only to demand I finish you off, I’ll have no problem with that.”
“Smart-ass.” She tongued his mouth, hot and clearly as hungry as he was. “But you’re so devious, and you know how that revs my engine.”
He released one of her breasts to blaze a trail down the flat plane of her stomach. Her soft, quivering stomach. She had several blades strapped there, and he twisted them aside to dabble at her navel for a moment, unable to help himself. Such delightful skin. By the time they ended this, he would have explored all of her. Every burning inch.
“McKell,” she moaned, and never had his title sounded sweeter. “You’re priming me.”
He’d waited all these centuries for Bride, but now, more than ever, he couldn’t regret that he hadn’t won her. He would have missed this opportunity. He would not have seen Ava like this, consumed by pleasure, beseeching him for more.
“Just as you’re priming me. But Victor, darling. My name is Victor.”
“I know. Can I call you Vicki?”
He chuckled softly. Irreverent baggage. Even now, while the pleasure beat so strongly between them. “You can call me whatever you wish.” But it wouldn’t get her what she needed.
He unfastened her jeans, creating a gap just large enough for his hand. Trembling, he tunneled through and found her panties. They were damp.
She thrashed her hips restlessly. “Do it. Please.”
And now his irreverent baggage was a commander. He liked. Not that he would obey.
Remaining on the outside of the fabric, he cupped her. Still he felt the heat, the wetness. His cock, already hard and desperate, filled all the more, making him impossibly harder, and far more desperate.
The car eased around a corner, tilting to the left, and they pressed deeper into the seat. Streetlamps stood closer together, and as they continued to speed down the roads, Ava was illuminated, then cast into shadows. Illuminated, shadows.
My beauty, he thought proudly. He traced the soft skin around the edge of the panties, never quite touching the place she needed him most. Over and over he teased her. Almost caressing her clitoris … teasing … no, not this time. Light as a feather, letting her know he was there, that he could do more at any second. Nope, not this time, either.
Finally, she had clearly had enough, her desire, her need, propelled to new heights, her hips following his every motion, her skin a fever of sensitized nerves. Yet still he didn’t touch her there. Just a little more … nope, missed again.
She balled her fists and pounded on his chest. “Do you need a map?”
“No. But I do need confirmation.” Not doing what she wanted, what he wanted, was putting a strain on his body. Perspiration sheened his skin. His blood was like fire in his veins, scorching him to ash. The ache inside him … Each of his muscles was taunt, his skin pulled too tight on his bones.
“Of what?” She went still, a goddess carved from stone. To find relief? Even in so small a way?
He would give her none. “I need confirmation that you know who’s here with you. That you know whose hand you crave.” The hand in question finally glided over her center. A quick movement, only slightly more satisfying.
A reckless cry parted her lips. “Yours. I know it’s yours.”
“And who am I?” Another glide, this one lingering. He’d just found the corridor to heaven; he could no longer stay away.
Another cry filled the space between them. “Why do … you want … to know?”
“I don’t want you forgetting later.” Direct hit. “I don’t want you thinking back and convincing yourself you were with the wrong person. Someone better suited to your list.” Direct hit, harder, more forcefully.
“That only happened once!” Her knees squeezed at his waist.
“Ava.” A warning. The only one she’d get. Not that he thought he had the strength to leave her like this.
She flashed her teeth at him, pearls in the darkness. “You said you’d finish me off.”
“And I will.” He was the one to go still this time. Any more contact with her sweet femininity, and he would take her all the way. “Without asking for blood.”
“But you already took some. You sucked on my tongue.”
And you begged for it. “You didn’t have a problem with that.”
“Just … finish me, damn it!”
“When you tell me what I want to hear.” Please.
A low growl erupted from her throat. “Fine. You’re McKell.”
He flashed his teeth at her, and they were much, much sharper. “Who. Am. I?”
A pause. Then, a snarled, “Victor, okay? You’re Victor. Now, will you stop with the he-man act and get to—”
He shoved her panties aside and thrust his finger deep inside her. The cry that next left her was neither reckless nor relieved. The cry that left her was animalistic, her back shooting off the seat. In and out he penetrated her, those silky walls gripping him, greedy for more.
More, he could give. He inserted a second finger, stretching her.
“Yes!”
In. Out. Hard. No mercy. He had none. She wanted none.
“Thank you! Yes, please, more.”
He bit through her shirt, her bra, not hard enough to break skin, but just hard enough to suck her nipple into his mouth and flick his tongue against the jeweled peak. What color was this nipple? he wondered. He wanted to see. Wanted her naked. Yes, he’d seen her before, but she’d been unconscious then, not lost to passion. Would that passion flush her skin to a dusty rose?
Through the speakers, he heard one of the vampires in the backseat moan, as if about to waken.
Mine! McKell stopped time only long enough to open the shield-armor separating front and back, punch the bastard in the nose, causing blood to splatter, then command the block to return. He resettled on Ava, fingers probing back inside their new favorite spot, never missing a beat. She gripped his shoulders and continued to slam her hips into his, rocking against him with every ounce of her strength.
His cock loved every motion, every point of contact, swelling, heating, her fever becoming his, his becoming hers. He’d never spilled his seed inside his pants, but he was close to doing so with Ava, his sac drawn tight, every inch of him wanting to crawl inside her—and if he couldn’t, punish him for the lack.
“Close,” she rasped.
“Closer.” He razed his fingertip along that bundle of nerves and pressed.
“McKell!” she shouted, inner walls suddenly clutching him. Her come drenched his hand, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop his own orgasm. Oh, yes. He’d never been this close.
Several minutes passed before she relaxed into the seat. They were both panting, but a resplendant smile lifted the corners of her lips. She stretched, a contented feline who’d just consumed an entire bowl of cream.
“Your turn,” she said silkily. “I got caught up and forgot about you. Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m not.” Slowly, reluctantly he removed his fingers from her. As she watched, he licked them, one at a time, finally tasting her as he’d longed to do since the first moment he’d met her. Though she had just experienced the ultimate in satisfaction, desire once again heated her eyes.
“Delicious,” he said, and meant it. Total femininity, an aphrodisiac. Sweet.
He ran a still-damp finger over the seam of her lips, bent down, and fed her a kiss. To his surprise, she reached between their bodies and fit a hand over his engorged shaft. So sublime was the sensation, he had to reach up and slap his palm against the windowpane. The glass cracked from top to bottom. He didn’t care. Either he hit the glass, or punched the seat below her, possibly scaring her.
“Yes!” he cried. “More.”
She squeezed, moved that hand up and down, tantalizing his tip, spreading the drop of moisture there, even through his clothes, then descending to his balls and tugging those. Closer still …
The car slowed, then stopped as Ava worked his zipper. Sweat heaven, yes! He needed this, had to have it, would die—
There was a knock on the door.
Rage sparked to instant life, and he twisted, meaning to lash out, to kill without mercy, then return to his woman and finally finish this. A smiling Noelle waved at him, unafraid of his murderous intent. She even wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.
“Go the fuck away!” he shouted.
“Not until I’ve had a little of this,” Ava said with a husky chuckle.
Noelle mouthed something, but because of the glass and the roar in his ears, he couldn’t hear. But then, he didn’t need to hear to know what she’d said. “Open.” The window lowered, and she leaned inside, still grinning.
“Hey, y’all. Whatcha doing?”
“Noelle?” Ava stiffened. A moment later, she was shoving at McKell’s chest. “Damn it! I can’t believe we’re already here.”
He lifted, straightened, and righted his clothing while she righted her own, her cheeks bright red. His probably were, too. “Why couldn’t you live farther from the club?” he mumbled.
Noelle’s grin widened. “So I can enjoy moments like this. Duh.”
“Well, you don’t have to stare,” Ava gritted.
“I know, but I want to,” Noelle replied, still completely unabashed.
“You are such a bad friend.”
“You’re a bad friend. I’m still waiting on my laundry.”
“You’re doing mine now. Remember?”
He listened to the byplay, trying to get his body under control. Impossible. The fire continued to rage, his muscles continued to twitch, and his cock continued to ache. It was going to be a long night. Unless … “Go inside. I’ll meet you in … five minutes.” He could take care of himself in that short amount of time.
Both women snorted.
“Hardly,” Noelle said. “We’ve got business.”
Yes. A long night.
As Ava scooted passed him, she commanded the door to open. The latch separated from the vehicle and she moved the rest of the way out, practically knocking Noelle to her ass.
“This is your fault, McKell,” she snapped over her shoulder.
“My fault?” He scooted out, too, and unfolded to a stand. “How is it my fault?”
“Your tree theory sucks!”
“Tree theory?” Noelle switched her attention from Ava to McKell, McKell to Ava. “Color me intrigued.”
“Shut up,” they shouted in unison.
“Fine.” She held up her hands. “Be that way. I’ll just get the prisoners.”
McKell held out his arm, stopping her from approaching the backseat. “No! Don’t touch them.”
Far from intimidated, she anchored her hands on her hips. “Why not?”
“Yeah, why not?” Ava demanded.
“They’re mine.”
Noelle’s eyes widened. “You’re seriously so possessive you can’t even allow someone to touch your prisoners?”
He didn’t say a word, just crossed his arms over his chest.
“Wow. I’m suddenly unsure why I ever called dibs,” Noelle said with a shake of her head. “Thank God I changed my mind and gave him to you.”
“You’re so lucky to be single,” Ava said, and damn if she didn’t sound truly envious.
His gaze narrowed on her, but he spoke to the car. “Open.” Like the front door, the back expanded. He reached inside and grabbed one of the vampires, anchoring the bastard over his shoulder. Then he bent to grab the other one. Only, the one he held slammed into the top of the car. He straightened, bent again. Same thing happened.
“Ava,” he said, pivoting to face her. “I will allow you to get the other one.” And he wouldn’t mind, he realized with surprise. He’d always had a problem with sharing, though the inability had grown worse over the last few months.
When he’d lived below, in the vampire underworld, he’d rarely allowed anyone inside his personal cave. They would have put their hands on his things, and he wanted to cut off the hands that touched his things. With Ava, he actually liked the thought of her hands on the things that belonged to him.
Maybe not the vampires, he decided then. They were male, and she only needed to put those beautiful hands on him. But everything else, yes.
“I mean, I’ll allow Noelle to get the other one.”
Ava stood beside Noelle, and both women watched him. Ava blew on her nails, then buffed them on her shirt. “I wouldn’t dream of touching something that belongs to you. So, yeah. We’ll be in the house, waiting. Take that five minutes if you still want it.”
With that, both women gave him a pinkie wave and strode past the open iron gate, up the hill, and into the large … home. Fortress was a better word. Large, sprawling, and dark, with manicured lawns and armed guards patrolling the upper walkway.
Grumbling under his breath, McKell tossed the vampire he held onto the ground, then reached in and dragged out the other.
This was definitely going to be a long night.
Nineteen
God, McKell was sexy, lugging two full-size male vampires over his shoulders, stomping up the winding staircase in the Tremain mansion, and dumping the bodies on the floor of the “interrogation” room. All without breaking a sweat or panting. Like he did when he touched her.