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“Uh-uh.” He nudged her thighs apart. “Not that way, sweetie. You want to come? Name.”
“Vincent Lambert,” she blurted out. Hell, she’d seen the last name on a movie poster recently, and the first name was common enough.
The mattress jiggled as Vail stood and strode to the counter. Grabbing the cell phone, he punched in some numbers.
Lyric crashed, heaving and gasping as if tears would spill free. The high of arousal withered away and her flesh prickled again, not from desire, but from the lack of touch, of expected satisfaction. Her wet nipples cooled and the aching loss of heat softened them. She pressed her legs together.
No. Not worth it now without him directing the fireworks. And she wouldn’t let him witness her weakness. God, how had she managed to get herself into a situation like this? So vulnerable!
She twisted her wrists within the leather strap, to no avail.
Vail asked the operator to give him the address of Vincent Lambert.
Good luck with that.
“Thanks,” he said, and hung up. “You’re in luck. There’s a Vincent Lambert in the fourteenth quarter. Got the address.”
Seriously? Whew.
Vail walked to the bed and loomed over her, hands propped at his hips. “Now, what to do with you?”
SHE’D GIVEN HIM what he’d requested. He should head out for the fourteenth and nab the gown from the fence. Return the damned thing to Hawkes, hand over the girl to Mommy, and then he could finally get the information he wanted from his uncle. One problem.
The naked woman lying on the bed before him writhed and gasped with the need to get off. And he wanted to help her with that. Because those soft, round breasts surely required more licking. And her molten hot body demanded he fill her with the hard-on he’d suffered for the past twenty minutes.
What had become of his hatred for vampires?
You don’t have to bite her.
And there was nothing wrong with a vampire in general, just their nasty blood. Right? He’d never slept with a vampire. Had avoided them since arriving in the mortal realm.
But he didn’t have to bite when he had sex. It was a great accompaniment to the whole shebang, but unnecessary. And besides, who would know if he screwed a vampire this one time?
Vail unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it aside.
She squirmed and tugged against the leather belt strapping her to the headboard. “Too late, you junkie asshole. I don’t need it anymore.”
“Yeah?” He flicked open the button on his pants and tugged down the fly. His heavy erection sprang out. Her eyes widened—and not in anger. “We’ll see about that.”
Retrieving the knife from his back pocket, he sat on the edge of the bed. Knife in his fist, he skimmed his knuckles over her taut stomach, toying with her fear and desire at the same time. He let the hard ivory handle of the knife rub her nipple as he moved higher.
She reacted with vicious struggles. He’d lost her when making the phone call—a necessary delay from the torture—but he could get her back.
“Settle, Lyric, you don’t want me to cut you.”
“You wouldn’t,” she retorted. “Wouldn’t want to get any of my nasty blood on you.”
She was smart. But he could be smarter.
He pressed his other hand over her mons, fingertips lightly brushing the soft wet folds she kept shaved bare, and her body reacted by arching her back. Much as she thought she didn’t want this, her body did. She straddled a tightrope, and one wrong step would send her reeling into the stratosphere or crashing to earth.
He preferred the reel, because that would make it good for him, too.
He slid the blade under the leather belt securing her wrists. This particular blade had been forged in Faery and was sharper than any mortal metal could be honed. Her wrists, unbound, fell to the bed and she grasped for one to ease her fingers about it.
“Sorry, if you lost the feeling in them,” he muttered.
Vail dropped the knife on the floor and placed his fingers between her thighs. He pushed them deep into her while, with his thumb, he found the soft swollen heat he knew controlled her entire body. It was command central, so to speak, and he knew how to operate the controls.
Before she could struggle away, he flicked out a finger and rubbed it over her slick clitoris, sweeping the sensitive bud until he heard a gasp, followed quickly by a surrendering sigh. Her fingers clutched at the tattered old mattress. Her legs opened wider.
“Good girl. Now let me taste how sweet you are.”
Ignoring the aching pulse in his erection, he told himself patience would win him the reward as he slid down to kiss her cherry jasmine skin.
The first lick started a shudder in her thighs. He dipped his tongue around her clitoris and played with the hard bud of it, making his tongue pointed to trace it firmly.
It was the right move because her fingers released hold on the mattress and clutched at air. She moaned, “Yes,” and her fingers found his hair and gripped hanks of it tightly. “Right there.”
Steadily, he played her, stroking and dashing his tongue against softness, then hard, to follow with a firm lick. She smelled like a jasmine garden here, and he was reminded of the faery ritual before the bride walked down the aisle. The bride-to-be would spend the day being pampered and perfumed, at one point squatting over an incense burner to infuse all parts of her skin with heady scent.
Don’t think about that stolen moment. Concentrate. Or you’ll begin to regret.
Kicking the door shut on memory, Vail soared back to the present and into his captive’s lushness. Lyric’s scent dizzied him. It was almost better than a dust high.
The vampiress cried out boldly. Her hips bucked and the fingers in his hair tugged painfully before releasing him.
He had pleased her. The hot spill of her over his fingers thrilled him. He sucked each digit clean, but was jumbled upon the mattress as she sat and reached for him.
She pushed down his pants and gripped his erection. “Now. Inside me. You know you want it, vampire.”
He sucked one last finger clean. “Just waiting for the invitation to cross your threshold.”
“If that’s the way you ask for an invite, you’ll never be turned down.”
Kicking off his boots and slipping down his leather pants, Vail then plunged into her depths and the dull mortal world changed colors. The faery dust highs he was accustomed to grew shallow and insignificant when immersed within Lyric. So tight, she hugged him as he moved in and out of her. Grasping him. Claiming him. It wasn’t going to take long for him to come, but he wanted to prolong the exquisite torture.
She’d turned the tables on him. Apparently, this seductive brand of torture could be sallied back and forth. He didn’t mind. This was all about finding the sweet spot. Mastering the moment.
Winning her trust.
Vail’s muscles clenched and his body trembled above Lyric’s gorgeous limbs. Her skin glowed pale under the moonlight. Her lips, so red from kissing, parted. She was his. He’d challenge any man who claimed differently.
Tensing his jaw, he waited as the orgasm focused in his muscles and segued at his core. He released, ramming himself deep within her to ride the wave.
SUNLIGHT TEASED Lyric awake. She hated the sun. It would burn her if she stood beneath direct rays. Prolonged UV exposure could drive a vampire mad. Even this pale stuff beaming through the dirty window could prove deadly with longer exposure.
She rolled away from the obnoxious light and her body hugged against Vail’s naked form. He lay on his side, facing her, his eyes open. He touched her mouth. A lash of her tongue in the wake of his touch tasted sex and salt and something sweet that she thought might be faery dust.
“You going to track down the fence today?” she asked.
“No reason to bother. It’s a ruse. You made up the name. I knew it before I even made the call.”
“Then why—why can’t you let me go?”
“Told you.” He gripped her around the nape of her neck, but not threateningly. His finger touched her behind the ear, and she cautioned herself against making a fast move. Some secrets were best kept. “I need the gown, Lyric.”
This guy had a one-track mind, and the replay was growing old fast. “If you had the gown would you let me go?”
“Do you have a gown to give me?”
She rolled to her back, wincing at the sunlight. He thumbed her nipple, but she batted his hand away.
“That was the best sex I’ve had. Ever,” he said, sitting and reaching for his pants. “Thanks.”
She closed her eyes. Men were not supposed to thank a woman for having sex. That was wrong on every imaginable level. So much for bad-boy fantasies. He’d used her.
But she had used him, too.
The best ever? Poor guy, didn’t get around much, did he? On the other hand, it had been so freakin’ good. Her best ever? She wouldn’t admit it to herself.
“I suppose if I take a shower, you’ll dodge out the window.”
“You know it,” she answered.
“I need to go home, shower, and change my clothes. After lying on this bed, I feel … crusty. Which means you’ll be coming with me, sweetie.”
“I’m not your sweetie.”
“No, you’re not.” He exhaled and stood.
Lyric gazed at his bare back and ass. The hard muscles that flexed with his movement defined the dimples at the top of his buttocks. Nice. Without warrant, she imagined him inside her again, pumping hard, filling her, his jaw clenched, and bringing her to climax. A shiver traced through her system.
“Yeah, it was as good as you remember,” he commented over his shoulder.
Lyric leaned up on an elbow. “You know you just had sex with a vampire.”
“I know.”
“You ever do that before?”
“Nope.”
Wow. Most vamps socialized with one another, and a lot dated vampires exclusively and used mortals for sex only when biting them.
“Any regrets?” she asked.
Shimmying up his pants and carefully tucking away his semihard penis as he zipped, Vail shrugged. “Actually, no, no regrets.”
“You seem surprised.”
He picked up her dress and tossed it over her breasts, then leaned in and kissed her on the mouth, slow, delving, most definitely not a regretful kiss.
“I am,” he said. Another quick kiss. “You’ve only just met me, but I’m sure you’ve determined a vampire would not be my first choice to bed.”
“Faeries first?”
He shrugged. “Anything but vampires.”
Way to make her feel sexy and appreciated. Not.
“We were just using each other,” she felt the need to say. It was an ingrained response.
No man had ever looked at her and seen Lyric, the girl who wanted to live in a faery-tale castle. The girl who wanted to travel the world, and live on a tropical island where the houses had no walls and the sand was white. The girl who spent her free time tucked away in a quiet gym in the second arrondissement, suspended upside down from silken fabric because joining the circus was also a real dream.
No, suitors had always seen the advantages to aligning themselves to the Santiago clan. Lyric expected others to use her.
“Don’t sweat it,” she offered by rote.
Vail grabbed her hands as she inspected the torn dress. “Don’t sell yourself short.”
His dark eyes were still smudged with black liner this morning and it drew her focus to the gorgeous blue irises. “What we did last night started out as a means to get what I wanted from you,” he said. “But do you seriously believe fucking a woman is the wisest way to conduct an investigation?”
The kiss touched her at the corner of her mouth, sweet yet lingering, as if wanting to imprint his mark for the world to see every time her smile curled.
She’d been imprinted once already. Lyric twisted her head away from Vail’s touch. She didn’t want another imprint, and needed one like a bullet through her brain right now.
“It was good, Lyric. But I don’t think either of us should beat ourselves up trying to figure the whys and hows of it. It happened. We enjoyed it. Now we step back into our roles.”
“You bad guy, me fleeing you?”
“Something like that. Let’s go.”
“Where?” The dress was a loss. She scanned the floor for her shoes. “Oh right, your place. Why do I have to go along?”
“You think your place is so swanky?” he teased. “The bed was … fragrant.”
She slid off the thing, stunned she’d made love on it, and had snuggled next to the man for a good part of the morning. Yuck. Well, it had been a means to hide out. It wasn’t that she’d intended to live here.
“Fine. I’ll go along for the ride. But you’re not going to trick me and drive me home to Mommy, are you?”
“Can’t. You’re staying with me until I can figure out what deal Charish Santiago made with Zett. Unless you want to make it easy and just tell me?”
“Can’t tell you what I don’t know. Why is knowing the deal important?”
“Because I know Zett,” he said, walking into the bathroom to retrieve her duffel. He dug out the shirt and black pants she’d worn last night and tossed them to her. “The Lord of Midsummer Dark has no interest in vampires. Vampires are the lowest of the low to faeries.”
Lyric tugged the shirt on, then bowed her head. Lowest of the low? Tell her about it.
