The Companion - One With The Shadows Part 12

Gian lifted her chin, expecting her to close her eyes. Her dark hair fell in a ma.s.s of waves down her back. But her blue eyes stared up at him, examining, expectant, but not of love. She didn't expect him to love her. Just make love to her. He could smell the musk of her need.

So he would, whether his c.o.c.k would obey his commands or no. It was doing just fine right now. The d.a.m.ned thing was straining at his breeches. The mere feel of her small feet in his hands had sent a charge down his spine and fueled a full erection.

But there was no guarantee it would stay the course. That sent a flutter of fear through him. But fear was a luxury he could not afford if he was to give her what she wanted. And right now, that was paramount. He put down his pride, and the part that was ashamed to let her see his failure. He was going to see this through to her end, whether he reached his own or not.

In some way that thought was freeing. He bent to brush her lips with his. Hers were open slightly. He felt her s.h.i.+ver. He pretended he thought she was cold, and took her full in his arms. Her knees opened and he stood between them. He opened his eyes and found her still looking full in his face. And then he bent again and kissed her, thoroughly, his tongue opening her lips and questing inside her mouth, then retreating in invitation. She took him up on his offer and thrust her own tongue inside his mouth to caress his tongue in turn. This was a bold miss, this one. She reached to hold his head, wanting more. So he gave her more. He crushed her b.r.e.a.s.t.s against his chest. His c.o.c.k was throbbing now. She scooted to the edge of the bed to wrap her thighs around his hips. The silk of the wrapper that matched her eyes split apart. She must feel his c.o.c.k. It pressed against her woman's parts, damp against his breeches. How long since he had wanted a woman like he wanted her now? Since long before the wars, he realized. Years? Decades? Centuries? He couldn't remember.

He pulled away. "This wrapper has more than served its purpose," he murmured.

She shook her head and clutched at the neckline, askew now, so that it revealed almost all of her ripe b.r.e.a.s.t.s. "You first."

"Very well." If those were her terms, he'd take them. He'd take almost any terms just now. He leaned against the high bedstead and pulled off his boots. Thank G.o.d for the strength of a vampire. He didn't struggle awkwardly with them as a human male would have. She watched him, knees drawn up under her wrapper again, and her lips pink and swelling with their kisses. He pulled at his cravat and tossed it aside, unb.u.t.toned his cuffs and drew his s.h.i.+rt over his head. Her sharp intake of breath did not escape him.

Bells sounded in cascading ripples across the night as the city's churches marked nine o'clock. Good. They had the whole night ahead of them. He wondered how many times he could drive her over the edge to o.r.g.a.s.m. And then there was the day. He imagined alternately dozing and making love to her inside the shuttered room, in the heat of Tuscan May. He fumbled at the b.u.t.tons on his breeches. Leisurely pace was for later. Now, he wanted to make love to her. And now was the operative word.

"d.a.m.n these b.u.t.tons." He gave up and ripped the flap of his breeches open. The remaining b.u.t.tons on each side popped and clattered under the bed.

He stood before her, naked. His c.o.c.k thrust out straight and bobbing slightly in antic.i.p.ation. Some seducer. He wanted to thrust it between her delectable thighs and bury it to its hilt while it was still up to the task. That wasn't right, of course. Not what he intended at all. The opportunistic thing was just confusing him with its insistence.

He stood, hesitating. Her eyes were round. A small smile played over her lips as her gaze roved over his body. She raised her brows in a gesture of helplessness as she chuckled a little, and slid off the bed. She put out a hand. It trembled slightly. She wanted to touch him.

He took a breath. Very well. He was here to please her. He stilled himself. She ran her hands over his chest, her thumbs rubbing his nipples. Venus and Bacchus himself! The sensation made them clench and peak. Her hands moved over his shoulders, caressing the place between the muscles in his upper arm, then back up, over his shoulder blades and around to his belly, over the ridges there and down, down to his hips. His c.o.c.k still bobbed between them. She hadn't touched it, though it was screaming to be touched. She stepped around behind him, the silk of her wrapper shus.h.i.+ng against his thighs. She cupped his b.u.t.tocks, slid one finger along between them, gently, then pressed herself against him and ran her hands back around his chest. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s pressed against his back through the wrapper. He could feel their peaks. Now both her hands ran down his belly and through the hair at his groin and then, gently, lightly, over the length of his c.o.c.k. He couldn't help the moan that escaped him. More. He wanted more of that.

"Your c.o.c.k is beautiful," she murmured.

"Where... where did a girl like you learn that word?" It was shocking on her lips.

"The streets. It's an Anglo-Saxon word. I know them all. Do you want to hear them?"

He smiled. "Not unless you want to say them." She had known coa.r.s.eness in her life, and yet she transformed that coa.r.s.eness into some new substance that wasn't coa.r.s.e at all through the alchemy of her strength and her resilience.

But she was cupping his stones, lifting them, though they were tight and high with need already. The sound he made this time was a growl, not a moan. Enough!

He turned into her and swept her up in his amis. He laid her on the bed and climbed up after her, breathing hard. He laid himself along her length. His c.o.c.k throbbed against her thigh. There was time enough for mouth and tongue yet tonight. But first... "If you've no objection, I'd like to make use of this erection before it fails me."

"Fails you?" Her brows drew together.

Not what he'd wanted to admit, but he wasn't thinking clearly. "Your reading of the cards, remember? About that you were right. Impotence."

"A temporary condition, if I recall." She smiled in rea.s.surance. "It seems to have pa.s.sed." She had the strength of character to rea.s.sure him even when she was uncertain herself.

"All this dawdling might tempt fate." He was surprised to find he could hardly get the words out around the lump in his throat.

"By all means, then." She spread her knees. That made Gian stop and think, through the haze of l.u.s.t that throbbed up from his groin. She had done this before all right, and she expected him to just thrust himself inside her and start pumping.

He did not want to give in to that expectation, no matter his need. He gritted his teeth and gently pulled at the tie that held her wrapper. The blue silk slid aside. She was as beautiful as he had known she would be. She had full b.r.e.a.s.t.s with rosy nipples, their peaks just now erect and sensitive. Her waist was slender. He had guessed as much. The full hips had been concealed by her dresses though. They were a delightful surprise. She was voluptuous without being coa.r.s.e in the least. In fact, the fine texture of her skin cried out to be touched. He cupped a breast and bent his mouth to her nipple. She gasped in surprise, and then, as he dedicated himself to his task, she arched and moaned. That was better. That was what she deserved. He gave the other breast the same treatment. She was writhing under his mouth now.

"How... how do you do that?" she gasped.

He propped himself on his elbows. "Do what?"

"Cause all that... sensation?" She arched again, encouraging him.

Had the men who had bedded her been that paltry or inept? "Has no one ever done that to you before?"

She shook her head. Her hair was a dark fan on the midnight blue and gold brocade of the duvet cover. "But I... I'm not a virgin. Does that matter?"

Perhaps she was, in many ways having nothing to do with her hymen. "Virginity matters not in the least to me." He might have to revise his opinion that virgins were boring though. He was suddenly more excited to show her what it meant to really make love than to satisfy his own needs. Let his c.o.c.k fail and be d.a.m.ned. "There are other sensations you'll like." He scooted down and set himself on his belly between her thighs. "Trust me now. I know women."

He saw a little frisson of doubt cross her eyes and be replaced by a determined look. "That's right." He smiled, then turned his attention to the thatch between her legs. He parted the curls, drinking in the scent of her musk. He bent and let his tongue part the lips beneath. She gasped in shock. He laid his hands on her thighs to keep her from instinctively closing them against the intensity of feeling, and lapped again. Her wetness was salty and clean, like the sea. After five or six gentle strokes she relaxed into the sensation. He then paid more attention to her nub of pleasure. He would have her moaning and lifting her hips for more in a moment.

He did. She did.

Her shriek, when it came, was followed immediately by a wrenching shudder and she collapsed in tears. He wiped his mouth and slid up beside her to cradle her in his amis as she sobbed. He knew full well they were sobs of release and amazement, not sorrow. His own release seemed unimportant at this point. That was not to say his interest had flagged. On the contrary, his erection lay along her hip even now. He could feel the wetness at the tip born of denial. Fine. Let it be denied. Kate needed something very different just now.

Kate shuddered and sobbed in his arms. She couldn't think why she was crying. It was the most wonderful sensation she had ever experienced. Though she'd thought she might be going mad, or maybe had gone mad when her world seemed to shatter into points of light. None of her other lovers had ever done that to her. It must be because no one had been brave enough to lick her... down there. She'd never even heard of that before and she thought she'd heard it all. How good of Gian to sacrifice himself in that way. It must have been a horrible task. And she would never experience it again.

That made her sobs subside into hiccups. He had been very good to her. Surely he deserved something in return. His arms around her felt more comforting than anything she had ever known. Had anyone ever just held her like that? She couldn't remember it. Her mother, unknown that she was, perhaps. But then perhaps not. Who could have held anyone like this and still abandoned them? Gian Urbano, she reminded herself. He had held many just like this, and abandoned them, just as he would her shortly.

It didn't matter. He still deserved something in return for what he had just done. Come to think of it, he undoubtedly expected it.

No one performed such a generous act without expecting something in return. But what could she do to equal that?

"Is there some way I can give you that much pleasure? I will do it gladly." She didn't like that she sounded shy. Definitely not like a woman of the world.

He smiled down at her. Did he practice it to make it seem so... genuine? Of course he did. He'd done a good job. "Probably many ways. If you don't mind, I'd like to stay simple. When you are ready, of course."

"I'm ready now," she a.s.sured him.

"So soon?"

Was there something to be ready for besides his sweating weight on top of her while she spread her legs and lay there, trying to breathe? Oh, he wanted to know if she had caught her breath after sobbing. She nodded and turned in his arms so she could spread her knees again.

But all he did was kiss her neck. It made her suck in air as though the breath was her first. And then his lips came back to kiss her lips again. The urgency of the first time was gone. He bit at her lower lip gently and swabbed it with his tongue.

That marvelous tongue. It made her shudder just to think of what it had done to her. The p.r.i.c.kle of his chest hair across her nipples sent sparks of sensation across her body. His hand on her waist made her acutely aware of how smooth his palm was. It moved to her hip, and then around it. He pulled her to him, and then he scooted around under her. Before she knew it, she was kneeling, straddling his hips, his c.o.c.k lying between her legs with its leaking tip peeking out in front of her.

She smiled a question at him. What kind of a position was this? In truth it made her feel a little vulnerable, since her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and belly were so exposed. Even in the dim light, he would be able to see her clearly. Always before, the men wanted to spill their seed in her by crus.h.i.+ng her underneath them where they couldn't even see her. This was in some ways much more intimate. He made no suggestion, though his eyes were burning with heat. He wanted something. She looked down. Maybe he wanted her to touch his c.o.c.k. She placed her thumb on the vein of the shaft and ran it up to the tip. It was larger than those of the men she had known when it was fully erect. She wondered uneasily if it would tear her when he started thrusting. She put that thought aside.

He expected. She owed. She concentrated on giving him sensation. The leaking fluid made it easier to rub. He was breathing hard. She liked that. When he ran out of moisture, she slid her hips up and back across it. Her slickness was good for something. His hands sought out her waist and helped her move. That started her own nether parts tingling again. The vulnerability of her body to his eyes seemed to matter less as the sensation ramped up.

"Now you're ready," he whispered as he half sat and put his arm around her bottom. He lifted her as though she weighed nothing, and angled his shaft with his other hand. He eased her down until she was kneeling upright, his c.o.c.k rubbing at her entry. "You are in control now, Kate. Do as you will."

He meant to do it like this, with her sitting astride him? She set her lips. Well, if this would please him, she would do it. "Am I too heavy?"

A tiny smile played around the corners of his lips and lighted his eyes before he suppressed it. "No."

She eased herself lower, settling, and felt his c.o.c.k enter her, just barely. This was really quite nice. She could decide exactly how fast she could accept it. That would eliminate that awful dry, skewered feeling she remembered. Though dry didn't seem to be a problem at all. It might even mean she could encompa.s.s all of him if she did it slowly enough. And she could decide just how she wanted to give him his pleasure. It was a peculiar feeling-being in control during the s.e.xual act. Always before she had seemed... detached, a witness, a victim. But here he was, ceding her the direction of it. It was... equalizing.

She settled further. It felt quite satisfying to be filled. She wiggled her hips and pushed herself down. Ahhhh. That was nice. He sighed as she accepted him. And she wasn't torn at all. She pushed herself up, experimentally, and lowered. He lifted his hips to meet her. Yes, that was even better. She had all of him inside her now. His hands moved to her waist again. He lifted only when she began to raise herself. He a.s.sisted only. His hand went round to cup her b.u.t.tocks. She began to move just as the men had moved on top of her, slowly at first and then a little faster. He arched to meet her and lifted at her cue. It was effortless, really.

On a whim she stopped and just rocked a little as she sat. He groaned. She could feel his member pressing against the inside of her belly. He changed the angle just a little by s.h.i.+fting her weight, and... and the sensation inside her seemed to multiply. She tried rocking again. "Oh!"

"Does that feel good?"

"Oh, oh, yes." And what made it so special was that they were both feeling it. The pleasure was shared, and seemed to multiply as they pa.s.sed it back and forth between them.

It felt so good she... she thought the madness might come on again, what with her nether lips grinding against his groin and him rilling her so fully, and the tip of his shaft rubbing against the inside of her belly. And now she was raising and lowering herself faster, but he was helping her and her b.u.t.tocks were slapping against the soft mounds of his stones and the clenching muscle of his thighs and he was arching, a grimace on his face, of pleasure? Pain?

Impotence was not a problem. Gian was driven almost to madness by the sensation of Kate sliding up and down on his c.o.c.k.

And he was filled with satisfaction because he was a true man again, and he had given her a pleasure she had never known before, and he would give it to her again and again in short order, until she was sated and dazed. He lifted her as she moaned and grunted. His chest, his belly, his brain were all full to bursting with emotion.

Oh, G.o.d.Wasn't high emotion just the trigger for things around him to burst into flame?

He stilled her movement. She pressed herself down on his c.o.c.k until he gasped. Banish emotion! Maybe it was good he'd been denied o.r.g.a.s.m since he got back. Maybe he would have set fire to anyone around him at the climax. He licked his lips and tried to quiet his breathing.

She opened her eyes. They had a question in them. "What's wrong?"

He managed a wobbly smile. "Nothing. It's just... just that I want to pay more particular attention to your pleasure," He lifted her off him. She knelt at his side.

Her brows knitted. "I was having quite a bit of pleasure there. You weren't?"

She knew very well he'd had. "Yes. Yes I was. But I'll... I'll just save myself for later." He got up on one elbow and reached for her to draw her into his body where he could kiss her. His c.o.c.k was screaming its disappointment at him.

She stayed his hands, looking wary. "I don't want this to be one-sided. I've only just realized how... good it is when two share sensations..." She sat back and glanced to his c.o.c.k, throbbing insistently against his belly. "If you're worried about... about faltering, that really doesn't seem to be a problem." She gave a roguish smile and reached for his erection.

That would be bad. He flinched away. And immediately saw the hurt in her eyes.

Her smile wavered and she turned her damaged cheek away. "If you'd rather not..."

"G.o.d, Kate, no... it's not that." He gathered her into his arms, though she had stiffened. She was trying to harden herself against the hurt. He swallowed. The only thing that might spare her pain was the truth. "I... I didn't tell you everything about my condition." He buried his head in her neck so he didn't have to look at her. Her soft scent a.s.sailed him. "I think I started the fire in your rooms. I was angry at Elyta. My anger expressed itself in... flame. It's happened before. What if, at the climax now, I did something like that again? What if I burned you?"

"What?" Kate couldn't believe her ears. He thought he started fires with just his anger? And if he spilled his seed he might burn her? This was too wild.

"I create spontaneous combustion at times of high emotion." His voice cracked.

She held him back from her. Even now the feel of his satin skin covering the hard muscles on his shoulders sent shrieks of sensation to her loins. She glanced to his engorged member. Even as he protested, he wanted to climax with her. He couldn't hide that. She examined his eyes. Pain, regret, determination. He believed what he said.

She didn't. No one could create flames from nothing. He was just nervous about ending a long bout of impotence. The pressure was too much... He was making excuses in order not to face it. There was no chance she'd let him give her pleasure without taking his own. That smacked of what she'd experienced with the marks so long ago. And she rather thought she'd been on the brink of some discovery when they'd stopped, some transformation that would change the rest of her life. "How many women have you burned at... intimate moments?"

"Well, none," he said as though that didn't matter. "But I haven't... carried through in more than two years."

"Oh. That's right. When you actually started fires, it occurred when you were angry."

"Don't make fun of this. I... I started the fire when Elyta and I were struggling, and I set LaRoque's lodgings on fire when he was trying to kill me. And now that I look back on it, I started fires in Algiers, when I was fighting a war there."

Kate suppressed a smile. The fires were all coincidence of course. Lamps overturned in struggles, coals from open fires in North Africa scattered. She'd never make him believe that. So she took another tack. "Sounds to me like you start fires only when your life is in danger."

She saw him cataloging the incidents, behind his eyes. "It may be." His eyes focused on her. "But what if it's not?"

Now she let her smile show. "I promise I will sing out at the first sensation of burning."

"You don't know the danger..."

"I won't let you pleasure me if you won't join in," Ultimatums were never fair, but really, he was being ridiculous.

A stubborn look came into his eyes. "Are you really going to let this come between us, when you aren't certain?" His resolve flickered. "You'll be a monk, and I..." She had to say it. "I'll never experience what it's like to share that sensation together."

"Don't say that." He sat up and took her in his arms. She softened into his embrace. She'd won. She knew it if he didn't. "Of course you will."

"I don't think so. Don't deprive me, Gian." It was his turn to hold her away from him. His eyes were filled and still uncertain. "It will be well. You'll see." She ran her hand along his jawline and he melted. He took her hand in both of his and kissed her palm.

His lips were soft. It made her almost shudder with desire. She pressed her body into his, and rubbed her b.r.e.a.s.t.s across his chest. Her hand strayed to his c.o.c.k and stroked it lightly. "Now where were we?"

He kissed her neck, gently, just as he had caressed her palm. The brink that she was sure he had been on seemed distant now.

He'd try to hold himself back. Well, she wasn't going to let him. Her lips found his and she kissed him thoroughly. His c.o.c.k was throbbing in her hand. Satisfaction warred with desire in her. She pushed him back firmly onto the tangled bedclothes and straddled him again. Now it was he who must feel vulnerable. She took his eager c.o.c.k and tilted it up, then eased herself down over it. That made her breath come in hissing gasps. She reached around to caress his b.a.l.l.s. She raised herself and lowered. He was beginning to breathe heavily. That was good.

"Can you help me find the proper angle?" His eyes closed once before he nodded and held her bottom with both hands to adjust her. G.o.d. There it was. Sensation ramped up. She pressed her hands against his chest, thumbing his peaked nipples, to push up and lower herself. Now he was helping her again. His chest heaved. Was that a low moan? He bit his lip, but he didn't stop. She felt as though she was swelling around his erection. Each trip up and down his c.o.c.k increased her pleasure, but she kept careful track that he was coming along with her. She wouldn't let him hold back.

She knew he was near the edge when he tried to still her movement. "No, no you don't," she warned and pushed herself down again. She rocked against him and then thrust up. He groaned and sucked in breath. Sweat gleamed on his body in the lamplight.

He was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

She couldn't hold it back anymore. Inevitability washed over her. The world exploded a second time. This time she saved enough of herself to know she was contracting around him in rhythm to her shock waves, squeezing him, until he arched and grunted. Inside, she felt him spurting. That was familiar, though nothing else about this whole experience had been. He was trembling, his hips making small, fierce thrusts even at the maximum arch against her. It went on and on, much longer than the brief spurts she'd experienced with her former partners.

When at last he was done, they both collapsed together. He settled her in against his side. She looked up at him. "Not a flame in sight."

He smiled. It was the most tender expression she'd ever seen. "Thank you for that."

"I acted only in self-interest." Not quite true, but near enough. "Dear me, but you were tres puissant!" His smile grew. It looked a little smug. That was very well. If he had been that long deprived, he had a right to be satisfied with himself. Kate was satisfied with herself as well. She had done that to him. Even when he had tried to hold back.It occurred to her that in some ways he was the opposite of arrogant underneath the surface. He had been so unsure of himself tonight.

And what had happened to her? Had she tumbled over that brink at last and been transformed? She couldn't remember quite what the brink had been. Her imagination most likely. Still she had never realized such incredible sensation could be part of having a man's c.o.c.k inside you. Or maybe it was only Gian Vincenzo Urbano's c.o.c.k. She was glad she'd done it, even if it was over and done with forever. Even if he was gone when she woke. She settled in closer against him, drinking in his scent, and closed her eyes.

Chapter Eleven.

That was a disaster. Gian looked down on her where she slept in his arms. She'd hardly wakened when he'd lifted her and pulled back the covers to lay her on the sheets. Her dusky lashes swept her cheek, the one without the scar. Her black hair gleamed in the guttering candlelight. He pulled the coverlet up over her shoulders.

Two disasters were avoided. He hadn't set anything, including her, on fire. Or rather he'd set her ablaze only in the s.e.xual sense.