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He worked the lather between his hands then glided his soapy hands over her skin from shoulders to b.u.t.tocks and all the sensitive points in between. When he reached her a.s.s, Darcy's heart beat loudly. His hands parted her b.u.t.tocks and his finger trailed down the crevice. "No sand here," he said, gravel in his voice.
In the creases between her legs and b.u.t.tocks, he found a trace of grit, so he lifted her cheeks and spent minutes soaping and smoothing to ensure not a granule was missed. By the time he'd finished, Darcy's legs wobbled and she was ready to scream.
When he turned her to wash her front, Darcy's gaze fell on his face. His nose was flared, his cheeks reddened and the smirk was now a tight line of tension. Gratified he was every bit as overcome with desire as she was, Darcy gave herself over to his touch. Just this once.
He lathered his hands and reached for her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Already tight and puckered, her nipples caught the soap bubbles he smoothed there. His large hands dwarfed her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, but despite her earlier doubts, he played with them, apparently fascinated.
His fingers rolled her nipples, tugged and squeezed until they stretched, engorged. She nearly protested when he left them to glide his hands down her belly. He swirled a finger inside her belly b.u.t.ton and Darcy's abdomen jumped and quivered, her legs once again turning to jelly. Then he reached lower.
She parted her legs to make room for his hands and he swept them between, rubbing over her outer l.a.b.i.a, then parted them to finger her tender inner lips.
Darcy reached for his shoulders to steady herself, then leaned to rest her head on his shoulder as his fingers rimmed her c.u.n.t, circling, rubbing. He found her c.l.i.toris and plucked it. "Lift your leg over mine," he said.
He didn't want mere compliance-he demanded her knowing partic.i.p.ation. Darcy was beyond any pretense of defiance. She lifted one leg and draped it over his. The s.p.a.ce between her legs was wide open for his marauding fingers to explore. Her nails bit into his shoulders.
Looking down the s.p.a.ce between their bodies, Darcy's breath grew shallow and raspy. Their differences, human to vampire, weren't important now. How their bodies complimented each other's, feminine to masculine, a.s.sumed precedence. Something deep inside her soft core yearned to yield to his mastery.
His erection stood straight up, veins crisscrossing beneath golden skin tinged with red. The wide, plump head looked soft and purplish. She couldn't resist smoothing a fingertip over it.
"No touching. Not yet," he said, his words clipped.
He rolled the bar of soap between his palms working up lather, then set it aside. When his hands descended to her crotch, Darcy closed her eyes and let her head fall back.
His fingers rubbed over the hair on her mons, tugging, ma.s.saging, and then he reached lower to follow the lines where her thighs met her p.u.s.s.y, his fingers smoothing, yet creating an ache that drew her belly taut.
She widened her legs and sank slightly on one knee to rock against his hand. Hurry! She wanted to shout at him, she needed him to be inside her now.
He traced a finger between her l.a.b.i.a and Darcy gasped, sure that now he would dip inside. "Open your eyes," he said.
He removed one of his hands from her and circled his c.o.c.k. "This is vampire c.o.c.k, sweetheart," he said, his voice roughening.
"What? You think, once I've had vamp, I'll never go back?" As soon as the words were spoken, she regretted her quip. It was something she tended to do when she was nervous.
Quentin's face broke into grin. "I can guarantee any man who comes after me will be found wanting."
"You think highly of yourself, don't you?"
"I've over a hundred fifty years of practical experience, love. I'm just stating facts."
A hundred fifty years of f.u.c.king? She wet her lips with her tongue. "From where I'm standing, I'm not seeing anything that special." Liar!
His hand glided up and down himself. "This is only one piece of the equipment, love. But I'm getting ahead of myself. I want to describe the process, so there will be no surprises. I don't want to frighten you."
"I'm not scared." Her skittering heartbeat made a liar out of her.
One brow rose, mocking her a.s.sertion. "Well, then let's get on with it." The hand between her legs, rubbed over her hips, then clasped one b.u.t.tock to force her closer. He lowered the head of his c.o.c.k to her p.u.s.s.y and pushed between her legs.
Darcy's nails bit harder into his shoulders, but she refused to betray her excitement in her expression. She pressed her lips tightly together and dared him with her eyes to take her.
Instead, he leaned forward and kissed her lips. Darcy gasped and he took advantage, sliding his tongue into her mouth. She angled her head and deepened the kiss. When her own tongue swept inside his mouth, she encountered sharp barriers. His incisors.
She tried to jerk away, but his hand on her a.s.s anch.o.r.ed her against his hard, lean body. Her skin noted changes there, too.
"I wanted to prepare you." His voice was deeper, rougher. Quentin was losing his veneer of humanity, changing into his vampire self. He pressed her a.s.s closer, causing his c.o.c.k to rub against her aching c.u.n.t. His gaze pinned her like a b.u.t.terfly to a mounting board. "Tell me you don't want this."
Darcy s.h.i.+vered in his embrace, her nipples constricting tightly. "Just this once," she whispered, not recognizing the husky tone of her voice.
The corners of his lips curved and the tips of his fangs appeared. He stood, his c.o.c.k pus.h.i.+ng unerringly inside her c.u.n.t, higher, deeper, until his hips lifted her from the floor.
Darcy gasped loudly. She'd known he was large, but knowing and knowing were two different things entirely. She was stretched to the limit. The walls of her v.a.g.i.n.a eased around him, softening to accept his intrusion.
In two steps, he pushed her beneath the shower's spray, pressing her back against the tiled wall. Darcy closed her eyes as water sheeted over her face. Her legs rose to wrap tightly around his hips, and her arms clutched his shoulders. Instantly, her focus became the rigid pole of his s.e.x, driving impossibly deep inside her. His hips rolled. Darcy's back rose and fell against the wall and her legs squeezed to draw him closer, deeper.
His hands grasped her b.u.t.tocks and he lifted and shoved her hips down, causing a friction between her v.a.g.i.n.a and his c.o.c.k that threatened to sweep over her like a wildfire.
"Give me your neck," he growled.
Now! Now she'd find out what a true vamp-induced o.r.g.a.s.m felt like. She rolled her head to the side and offered her neck for their pleasure.
His tongue lapped at her skin and Darcy trembled. Then his fangs bit into her, and her breath hissed
between her teeth. A short, sharp pain was followed by an indescribable euphoria as his mouth suctioned against her neck.
Darcy grew still in his arms, sensation overpowering her limbs. Her pa.s.sion-drugged senses noted his
body was hardening, muscles expanding. His c.o.c.k thickened and lengthened, and Darcy's hips lurched. She whimpered.
His teeth pulled away. "Wait. Will ease." His chest and hips shook.
Darcy opened her eyes and saw his savage mask. Plates of bony armor pushed his forehead out, altering his gaze into a sinister, hooded leer. His mouth dripped with her blood.
"I don't want you to stop." She bit her lips and moaned when his hips jerked beneath her. "Move!
Move now!"
He lowered his head and sank his teeth into her neck again, anchoring her in place as his hips resumed their deep, upward thrusts.
Darcy mewled like a kitten, one hand fisting in his hair, the other sc.r.a.ping his back with her nails.
Quentin pounded harder, driving her higher against the wall-faster and faster.
Then she was writhing in his arms-a wild thing, clawing his back to reach the summit. Her o.r.g.a.s.m
slammed through her, stiffening her legs, arching her back. She cried out.
Quentin's answering howl reverberated on the tiled walls.
Still panting, Darcy's gaze rose to meet Quentin's. As she watched, his face reformed but his gaze was
wary. "You can let me down now," she said.
His lips tightened, but he nodded.
Suddenly, the door to the bathroom slammed open and the shower curtain was jerked back. Joe took in
their compromising position with a single searing glance.
He raised a sharpened stake in his fist.
CHAPTER THREE.
"No! Joe, don't do it." Darcy cried out, her hand reaching beyond Quentin's back to stave off the blow.
"You G.o.d-d.a.m.ned b.a.s.t.a.r.d!" Joe spat. "What did you do-use your vamp hypnotism on her?"
Quentin remained where he was-deep inside Darcy's still-pulsating channel. Despite the interruption, he wasn't ready to withdraw from the sweet flesh that fisted around his c.o.c.k.
Joe raised the stake higher. "Get off her!" he said, his jaw clenched.
"Unless you care to join us," Quentin said, his tone even, "I'd suggest-"
"We're finished," Darcy said, and pushed against his shoulders.
Reluctantly, Quentin backed away from the wall and eased his c.o.c.k from inside her. Her legs slid to the floor, but he was gratified when she clutched his waist to steady herself.
He turned to face his adversary, unconcerned his c.o.c.k gleamed with their combined c.u.m.
Joe's face darkened, his body taut. When his gaze swept over Darcy's naked body, his stance grew more rigid. "b.a.s.t.a.r.d!"
Quentin realized Darcy's blood still trickled from the punctures in her neck. He held up both hands. "I'll
close the wounds." Keeping an eye on the man holding the stake, Quentin drew Darcy close to him. Darcy flinched, but allowed him to lick her neck to seal the small punctures. When Quentin lifted his head, he glared a challenge at Joe. Joe's gaze darted to Darcy. "Go get some clothes on," he said curtly. Darcy's arms wrapped around her waist and she stepped toward Joe. "You can't hurt him." Quentin hoped Joe didn't see her backside or he'd be dust. His fingers had left bruises, which were quickly turning blue. "Were you willing?" Joe asked. "Yes," she whispered. He closed his eyes for a moment and lowered his stake. "How could you?" Darcy's face was ashen, and a sheen of moisture glazed her eyes. "I don't know. I was curious, I guess." Curious? Anger bristled through Quentin, but he held his tongue. She'd been a h.e.l.l of lot more than curious. Hotter than a b.i.t.c.h in heat was a more apt description. Joe's gaze swept over her again, and a muscle tensed in his jaw. "f.u.c.k you, Darcy." Darcy blanched and turned her face away. Quentin's hands fisted. He resisted the urge to tear the man's head from his body. He recognized jealousy and desire when he saw them. And Joe was eaten up with bitterness borne of both emotions. "Get dressed," Joe repeated.
Darcy left the room without a backward glance.
Quentin would have liked to follow her out, to soothe the hurt he'd seen in her eyes.
But Joe loomed over him, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Finally, his face twisted into a sneer and he
tossed the stake at Quentin's feet. "Stay away from her, or I swear I'll kill you." He turned on his heels
and followed Darcy into the bedroom. Quentin pulled the shower curtain closed and turned the water a notch hotter. Then he reached for the raspberry soap. When his lathered hands encircled his c.o.c.k, he murmured, "This is going to be more interesting than I thought."
"Darcy!"
Ignoring Joe's angry voice, Darcy shrugged into her robe and belted it tightly around her waist. When his
hand clamped onto her shoulder, she stiffened.
"Did...Did he hurt you?" Joe asked, his voice softer now.
"No." The word strangled in her throat. She was sore and she wouldn't be at all surprised if her tender
inner flesh was slightly torn. The vampire's c.o.c.k had almost been more than she could take.
"Dammit, Darc, don't lie to me."