Lassiter, page 18
And that was when it dawned on him. This was a first time for them both, in a way.
God, he hoped he could make it good for her, and as he worried about whether he was going to know how to pleasure his female, shadows of that nightmare with the demon prowled around the periphery, sure as there were versions of Devina stalking the bed.
Kissing Rahvyn again banished the threat, and he learned what she liked, what made her surge up to him, what caused her to press her breasts into his pecs. But he still kept his hips back because he was hard as a two-by-four, his body instantly ready to mate.
“Can I touch you?” she asked against his mouth.
The groan that came out of him was all anticipation. “Anywhere.”
More with the kissing, as her hands rode up his biceps and drifted across his shoulders. Then they were in his hair, sinking in, bringing him even more firmly to her mouth. Following her need, he was careful as he entered her with his tongue, licking inside of her, going gently—
He was so in tune with making sure he was treating her lips with the attention they deserved that he didn’t immediately notice she was pulling his scrubs top up his chest. Eventually, however, the cool air hitting his hot skin got through to him, and he eased back again.
“May I see you,” she whispered, her silver eyes shimmering.
“Whatever you want.” He sat up. “Do you want to do the undressing or should I—”
She answered the question before he finished it, her hands going back to the hem of the blocky blue shirt, and as she lifted the bottom, he put his arms up.
Higher, higher, higher—
Just as his head was swamped in the folds, she made a purring noise—and then he could see again. As she saw the top half of him.
She dropped the shirt to the floor like she forgot she was even holding it—and put her hands on him, starting at his collarbones. The wonder in her face made him feel more masculine than anything else ever had, and he wished he were wearing all his gold chains now so that he could feel them move over his skin and hear the sweet chiming as she explored his pecs… and followed the links down to the piercing in the head of his cock.
But that was no more.
“Where are your necklaces now, angel?” she breathed. “You used to wear many.”
Gone. “Maybe I’ll put some back on sometime.”
“I would like that. If only because I could take them off you, one by one.” She flushed and dropped her eyes. “That is silly—”
“It’s a date.” As her stare flipped back up to his, he nodded. “If I didn’t have to leave you, I’d go get some chains right now.”
And then he realized—
“What is it?” she asked as her hand went down to his sternum. “What troubles you?”
“I, ah…” He captured her hand and kissed her palm. “I don’t want to freak you out.”
But he wanted to take off her clothes, and kiss her in places he wasn’t sure she was ready for. Holy fuck, he wanted to go down on her, right now.
“Without meaning any offense,” she said dryly, “I saved a dog earlier in the day. My threshold for surprise is quite high at the moment, thank you very much.”
He laughed. Then pressed his mouth to her hand.
When the silence became awkward, her brow lifted. “I would rather hope you will see your way out of this current dearth of words.”
“I love the way you talk and your accent. You roll your r’s and it goes right through me.”
“Oh?”
He looked at her mouth. “It makes me wonder what else you can do with your tongue.”
With surprising boldness, she met him directly in the eye. “Let us find out, shall we?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
As Rahvyn waited for Lassiter to respond to her rather blatant invitation, she enjoyed exploring his upper body, the feeling of his skin, so warm and smooth, the expanse of his shoulders and chest, so vast and hard, all of it a landscape she was compelled to touch. And as she imagined him with his gold on properly, she was tantalized with what it would have been like to have the links under her hands as well.
“So will you kiss me some more,” she said in a husky voice that did not sound like her own. “I like your tongue inside of me.”
“Fuck, yes,” he groaned as he closed his eyes for a second.
Gripping his shoulders, she used his body to pull herself to him, and as she closed in on his mouth, she heard herself purring in satisfaction. The contact started gentle, as it had before, but it did not stay that way. His arms came around her, and there was a crushing sensation she only wanted more of as he held her against him, fiercely. Running her fingers into his blond-and-black hair again, she wanted to get out of her own clothes. She wanted to be naked underneath him. She wanted…
Pulling back, she was breathing hard, and her eyes latched on to his neck, where the thick vein ran up the side. As the tips of her fangs tingled, she felt a compelling need to know what he tasted like—
“Do it.” When she recoiled in shock, he cupped the back of her head and held her in place. “Take me, in your way. I want you to mark me. I want to know what it’s like to have your fangs in me.”
Rahvyn’s heart thundered—and yet she hesitated. “I do not want to hurt you.”
“You can’t, don’t worry—even if you did, I don’t care.” His hand ducked underneath her hair and stroked her nape. “My blood may not offer you the sustenance you need, but I want to give you a part of me. Even if it’s not enough.”
Her mind told her no. Her body told her yes.
Her hunger told her now.
The decision was made before she was conscious of coming to any conclusion, and her fangs descended all the way down in a rush. Rearing back, a hiss came out of her mouth—
She struck with a violence that should have bothered her, but did not because she was just that starved to drink of him. On Lassiter’s side, his bark of an exhale as the punctures were made sounded like triumph to her ears, and then she wasn’t hearing anything. She was drinking, swallowing, taking of him.
He tasted of a piercing white wine, his blood cutting into her with a sizzle, the path of it burning down her throat and hitting her stomach with a blaze—that went right into the juncture of her thighs: Her core seemed to open upon the command of his flavor, and the response got even more intense as she nuzzled into his vein and sucked upon the source, pulling more and more of him into her—until her body was so hot, she fumbled with her clothes in an attempt to get them off.
“Shh,” he said from what seemed like a vast distance. “I’ll take care of it—”
The next thing she was aware of was a cooling on her skin, all over her, as if what she was wearing had melted off. She paid no attention to the hows or whys of that. Instead, she pulled him onto her, shifting his weight as she made space for him between her legs—
“Rahvyn.”
He said her name as the hard length at the front of his hips fitted itself into the juncture of her core, the pressure bringing a piercing echo of pleasure throughout her entire being. But she had only a moment of the exquisite weight of his strong body on top of her own. As soon as the sensation registered, he rolled his torso to the side, her mouth’s seal moving with his neck—and she had a feeling he was repositioning himself so she wasn’t pinned or trapped.
But she knew who she was with.
What she was worried about was harming him. She was not sure whether he understood the danger he had put himself in. He was relying on her to stop drinking, when with every swallow, she became more charged for taking from him—and then there was the urge to mate, which was redoubling as well.
A firestorm was owning her, one that was incompatible with making rational decisions.
As an alarm began to sound at the base of her brain, she knew she had to act fast. With a self-control she did not know she possessed, she forced herself to relinquish the lock on his vein—and as she pulled back, she was astonished to see a silver flash around the wound.
“Your blood…” she said with wonder as she touched her mouth.
“Don’t stop. Take more of me. Take all of me—”
The frenzy she felt was likewise in his eyes, and that was even more dangerous. He was not going to halt this.
“No, I will not.” She touched his face. “It is not safe.”
From the puncture wounds, tendrils of silver rivered down his throat, and in a quick surge, she licked the wound closed—and became conscious of a tingling throughout her body. Indeed, this was like no feeding ever before, the sensation of strength coming upon her, and yet there was something else. A shimmer. As if his blood brought her nutrients she had never had before, never even knew she needed.
“Lassiter… I want you,” she breathed. “Please, I ache.”
“I’ll take care of that, don’t you worry—” His eyes drifted down. “Oh, God, you’re beautiful.”
In the back of her mind, she was surprised she was so comfortable being naked with him. Then again, that was how you knew you were with the right male. That you were safe. That you were cherished.
As he dropped his head toward her, she went for his mouth—and something was unleashed. In her. In him. The kissing became intense, his lips grinding on hers, and then his tongue was inside of her as she dug into his back with her short nails. This time, as she tugged at him, he went where she wanted him: Fully on top of her, his hair falling around her face, all blond-and-black waves, the thickness between his thighs pressing into her again.
Only this time, with no barrier on her side, and just the scrubs bottoms on his.
So no barrier at all, really.
Pushing her knees up, she tilted her hips and—
The moan that came out of her was so loud, she probably should have been more quiet about it, as walls and doors were thin. But then Lassiter swallowed most of the sound.
Things got hotter from there.
The movement. Dearest Virgin Scribe, he began flexing his lower back, and then releasing it, flexing and releasing, and with every surge forward, that arousal of his stroked her sex. Soon he would be inside of her doing that, and then he would fill her up. She had hated that from before, the essence of that aristocrat pooling inside her.
With Lassiter, she wanted to be his receptacle.
Needed his release in her core just like his magical blood had gone down her throat.
* * *
Just how far did she want to take this? Lassiter wondered.
He hadn’t been sure how Rahvyn would feel with him on top of her, but with the way she was moaning? Especially as he started to ride her a little? She seemed to want this as badly as he did—and after she’d taken his vein, he was next-level hot for her.
Nearly coming right now.
Breaking the kiss, he lifted himself off her. Beneath him, she was flushed and panting, her head going back and forth on the pillow in frustration. When she’d wanted her clothes gone, he’d obliged, whisking them off with his mind… so that he was now what clothed her, only the bottoms of his scrubs separating them.
“Rahvyn,” he said as he stared at her spectacular breasts.
Her eyes fluttered open. “Yes…”
“Watch me.”
When he was certain that she saw him properly, he dipped his head and kissed her shoulder. Then her collarbone. Then the top of her sternum. Sweeping his hand down the side of her ribs, he moved himself lower on her body.
“You’re so damned beautiful.”
Her bare breasts were rosy-tipped and perfectly proportioned for her body, and he had to touch them, his hand shaking as he cupped one and brushed his thumb over her nipple—
Rahvyn cried out again and arched up into his hand.
He couldn’t resist. Leading with his tongue, he licked at her—and was rewarded with her holding on to him as he sucked on her, treating her as she should be treated, making sure she knew who was doing her so right. Yet she seemed to know. There didn’t appear to be any confusion with what had happened to her before, and he was struck by her courage. He didn’t need the details to know the violation had hurt and traumatized her, but here she was, enjoying him while he enjoyed her.
She inspired him. And by her example, he felt himself separate even more from what had been done to him.
Rahvyn was his healing.
And at the same time she was his undoing in the best possible way—
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Lassiter lifted his head from her breast and glared at the door. “No,” he snapped. “We’re not here.”
The voice that came through the panel was the last one he wanted to hear: “Too bad. We need to talk to you.”
Ah, Eddie, he thought as he squeezed his eyes shut with frustration. What perfect, piss-poor timing, you schmuck.
Knock. Knock.
“Lassiter, we’re in the break room. Let’s get this over with.”
He popped his lids and looked down at Rahvyn. She was fucking resplendent, a high flush to her cheeks, her lips swollen from his mouth, her nipples tight and hungry for more of the attention he wanted to give them.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“You should go speak unto them,” she replied at an equally low volume.
“See you in a minute down the hall,” Eddie announced on the far side of the door. “Or I’m going to pull up a chair and put my knuckles to use until they bleed.”
In the aftermath of what Lassiter assumed was the angel’s departure, he interviewed a variety of curses—and not as in swear words, as in actual hexes you could put on someone… many of which, if set into action, would have required Eddie to go to an ER. Stat.
Michael Scott’s voice went through his head: I got you both beat. I’m a proctologist, so I drive a brown Probe.
“I won’t be long,” he muttered.
Taking a last look at her breasts, he hovered his hand over her and summoned her clothing back—which felt like he was rewrapping a gift.
Rahvyn glanced down at herself and smiled. “Oh, you are a trickster indeed. And I shall wait for as long as you need.”
“Female,” he said as he got off the bed. “The last thing I want to do is make you wait—”
“Lassiter… you are phearsom.”
For a second, he had no idea what she was talking about. Then he caught the drift of where her eyes were and looked at himself.
Actually, the word was maybe “obscene.” Because his erection had punched one helluva tent in the front of the scrubs.
He covered himself. “Sorry—”
“Do not apologize for that.” Extending her arm, she said, “Before you go, may I touch you—”
Jerking his hips out of range, he double-palmed himself. “I’ll come.” Matter of fact, he was about to orgasm right now. Between her eyes and the pressure of holding himself, he was going to fucking lose it. “Like, I’m going to orgasm. Immediately.”
“Please. I just want to see, I want to watch—and you are short on time, are you not? So there is a convenience to alacrity, is there not?”
Well, put like that, it would almost be stupid not to.
“Rahvyn.” His capitulation was all over the syllables of her name. “If you’re sure.”
“I shall beg. If that shall further persuade you?” As his eyes bugged, she lowered her voice. “Please… Lassiter. Allow me to see you achieve your pleasure… please…”
She topped it all off with licking her lips, nice and slow.
As his eyes rolled back in his head, he stepped toward her. And when he didn’t feel her touch, he wondered if she had changed her mind.
As he opened his eyes, she smiled. “I thought you might want to watch. I know I liked witnessing you upon my breast.”
Oh… fucking hell.
Her hand was tentative as she reached forward—and then she made contact with his hypersensitive head. The sound he made was explosive, and his hips thrust, bumping him into her palm.
“I want to see,” she said roughly.
Lassiter covered his face with his arms. “You’re killing me, female.”
“I thought you were immortal, angel mine.”
“Not when I think—oh, fuck.”
Her fingers brushed against his lower abdomen as she freed the bow he’d tied in the front of the scrubs—and the friction of the loose cotton fabric was enough to drive him right to the edge. Then new torture showed up. The bump, bump, and shift of the waistband stretching over the length of him ground his molars.
After which his erection broke out.
“Ohhhh,” she sighed. As if she approved of what she’d found.
Dropping his eyes, he looked down his pecs and his abs, to his enormous arousal just as Rahvyn’s hand circled his shaft. He barely had time to bark out her name before he was tackled by the most powerful orgasm he had ever had. Throwing a hand out blindly, he grabbed on to something, a blanket, a sheet, whatever, and pulled it over his cock.
He caught the jets just in time.
He couldn’t say the same for his balance. As he listed to the side, the bed came up and kept him from hitting the floor—of course it was the other way around, but he was absolutely off the damned planet so it sure as hell seemed like he was still on his feet. And the flop was not the most manly thing, but Rahvyn didn’t seem to mind.
As the initial spasms passed, she moaned in the back of her throat and then did some exploring of her own. Which made him start to release all over again.
Stretching out across the foot of the bed, he watched her face as she peeled the blanket off him and stared at his ejaculations with rapt attention as they marked up his six-pack.
Fuck it.
Those angels could wait a little longer.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Arcshuli, son of Arcshuliae the Younger, was done with the waiting. Pulling his Tesla into the shallow parking area of a modest ranch house, he canned the car and glanced around the quiet neighborhood. Vampires hiding in plain sight. It was genius—and banal as fuck. Middle America, with its average joes who liked football and porno and books about war, sitting in their average houses with the nice hardwood floors, didn’t really interest him. But then, he was an asshole.
