One With the Night (16 page)

And yet … she didn’t know anything. She may have lost her virginity, but the cad who took it had not cared enough to pleasure her or even be tender with her. She had no idea what sexual experience was like, let alone the sensory explosion of sex once a Companion circulated in your blood. There was no one to tell her about that part of being vampire.

He jerked himself over to stand in the embrasure of the window that looked toward the sleeping village, one palm on each side of the stone aperture. His body clamored at him, fully erect. He might burst right here.
Ye’ve held yerself away from women for two years,
he admonished.
Don’t let a chit of an English girl lure you inta … inta what?
He swallowed hard.
Either being like Asharti or being reduced ta what Asharti made ye?

That was the crux of it, wasn’t it? He was afraid giving in to his sexual urges would derail his pitiful attempts to wrest his soul back from Asharti. He’d lose control and run amok or find out that his only means to pleasure with a woman was through pain. He closed his eyes.

Her palm on his side sent shocks directly to his loins.

“Time for us to stop running from it,” she whispered as she pressed herself against his back and buttocks. He felt her breasts flatten against his soaking shirt. His private parts were so heavy they were painful. “I won’t consider it a commitment. I won’t cling.”

He groaned and turned, his hands held out, away from her. He dared not give in to his body’s screaming urge. But still she pressed against him. He felt her nipples against his chest through the fabric between them. Now she would know what she had done to him. His erection lay against her belly. His body was on fire. She ran her hands over his wet shirt.

God, but it was more than a man could resist!

He leaned forward and brushed her forehead with his lips as his arms found their way around her. He sought out her lips. The softness of them struck him to the core. She opened her mouth to him, and then his tongue was inside. He tightened his embrace …

“Jane,” he whispered into her mouth. “Jane…”

God help him, her tongue searched his mouth tentatively in return and she ran her hands down over his buttocks. His cock was pressed between them, throbbing. She ground her hips against it. Bloody hell! He was lost …

*   *   *

Jane opened her mouth to the sweet penetration of his tongue. She’d never been kissed like that. The shared moistness was more intimate than anything she had ever known. She wanted to touch more of him. The hardness of his erection against her belly was a revelation. How long had he been that way? She knew what he looked like naked and aroused, and the thought of him lying on the table in the kitchen at Muir Farm three nights ago made her tremble inside. She needed something, not like what she had done with Tom Blandings—she didn’t care about that—but something. She pressed her hips into his thighs.

He growled. But she was far from frightened. She pulled up his kilt and ran her hands over his bare buttocks. That was what kilts were for. His muscles clenched as he pressed himself into her. She could feel the raised ribbons of his scars. He pulled his lips from hers to kiss her neck. Would he bite her? She didn’t care. He could have every drop of blood in her body and welcome if he would make the needing go away.

“Tell me ta stop now,” he said, panting in her ear. “In a minute I’ll no’ be able ta turn back.”

“Why would I want you to stop?” she whispered.

He swung her up into his arms and carried her to where her cloak lay spread on the ground. He laid her down gently then stood. He ripped the pins from his kilt and tore off his waistcoat, sending buttons popping everywhere. She tugged off her boots as he did the same. She pulled at the bodice of her habit where the military-style black buttons held the gray wool together. They too popped, and her breasts came spilling out of her torn chemise. His kilt pooled on the floor and he was naked except for his shirt. She tore at the ties that held her skirts to the bodice. He knelt and pulled her skirt free. She couldn’t quite see the part of his anatomy she sought. It was revealed only by the bulge in his long shirt. She tugged at her drawers. They ripped in her hands. She wanted to be naked and see him naked, too. He pulled his shirt over his head. The enormity of his erection gave her a deep satisfaction. It would be demanding of her. She wanted that. It might begin to satisfy the need she felt tearing at her from the inside.

The scars stood out against his flesh, shouting that he had been abused. But that was behind him now. He was focused only on the present. Even in the dark, she took in every detail of his body; the veins over his biceps that fed the muscles, the bulge of his thighs, the thick dark hair in which his erection nested. He seemed so different than he had lying on the kitchen table, so alive, so … ready. Three nights ago her reaction to him was not likely to result in intercourse, whereas now …

He lay down beside her, pressing kisses on her throat. Then he fastened his mouth on her left breast and suckled there, gently. She arched, moaning, panting. Tom Blandings had never done that! She had never known how sensitive her nipples were. He fingered her other breast. She writhed against him. “More,” she moaned. “I want more.”

He pulled away from her breast and looked up at her. How had she ever thought those gray-green eyes were cool? They flashed with heat, even as he grinned, showing even white teeth. She loved that grin already though it was only the second time she’d seen it. “Are ye saying ye want my cock, lass?” His accent had grown thicker.

“Is that what men call it?” She mimicked his accent. “Then, aye, I want yer cock.” To prove it, she reached down and circled his shaft with one hand softly. She reveled in his hissing intake of breath. Had she ever touched Tom Blanding’s penis? She didn’t think so, for the sensation of silken skin over such hardness seemed a revelation. She moved her hand up and down, as she had watched Meg Carruthers do with her customers, and he arched his back. His nipples were tight and pebbly. It must be with desire because he couldn’t possibly be cold. She herself was burning. On impulse she licked his nipple and felt it tighten even further. She laid her thumb over the tip of his cock. Moisture oozed there. It made her ooze with him in a delightful shudder to know that this was a wet experience for him, as well.

Gently he took her hand from his cock. “Be careful, lass. Ye’ll draw me too soon.”

“Then get to yer work, lad.” She grinned and spread her thighs to him.

*   *   *

Callan wanted nothing more than to shove his aching cock to the hilt inside her and pound against her until he came in a roaring gush of sweet release.

But he couldn’t. Not yet. The girl had never even had her pleasure of a man. And he couldn’t be certain she’d climax along with him, vampire or not. She hadn’t had anything like a fulfilling experience with that cad she chose to receive her virginity. He must make certain she was the one who received pleasure tonight, hard as it might be to wait.

He put aside the feel of her breasts against his chest and mastered himself. He couldn’t help the growl, low in his throat, as he covered her mouth with his, searching with his tongue. In spite of her challenge, he didn’t move his body to cover hers. What he wanted most was to please her with his mouth, to taste the musky cream he could smell on her even now, but he wasn’t sure she was ready for that, and the last thing he wanted was to frighten her. So it was his hand he put between her legs. His palm pressed against her mound and his fingers slipped inside her moistness. She gasped in surprise.

“What are you doing?” she moaned.

“No’ taking any chances,” he muttered.

*   *   *

Jane had no idea what he meant, but she lost all power to concentrate on anything but what his fingers were doing. They rubbed over flesh so sensitive she thought she might not be able to stand another moment of it, but she never wanted him to stop. He dropped his head and took her nipple in his mouth again, pulling gently on it with his lips. Sensation shot through her from her woman’s parts to her breast and back again, cycling up until she wondered whether she would lose consciousness. The only other sensation there was room for in her brain was the feel of his throbbing erection against her hip. Somewhere she heard him whispering soothing encouragement between his bouts of sucking. He fingered her in circles and then gently back and forth over some swollen part she didn’t know she had. She was panting and lifting her breast to his mouth, thrusting her hips up into his hand. Her world contracted. Her body contracted with it. She cried out in a continuous series of sharp gasps. And then she just exploded. There was no other word for it. He didn’t stop rubbing her. She curled into him, her muscles contracting. Her body finally jerked away from his hand of its own volition as a shriek escaped her.

The air vibrated around her as the sensation between her legs slowly faded. She examined his face even as he was examining hers. His eyes still glowed with passion. His pale skin stood out against the darkness, his dark hair blended with it.

She shouted a laugh, but the laugh turned into a sob and then she was crying against his bare chest, the scent of cinnamon and male suffusing her. Nothing remotely like this had happened with Tom Blandings. She rocked and sobbed as he held her, and smoothed back her hair, whispering to her that it was all right.

“Don’t mistake my tears,” she gulped at last. “It wasn’t painful, or distressing. It was wonderful. I don’t know why I’m crying.”

“I do. And I dinnae take it wrong,” he whispered.

“Is … is it more intense for us?” It couldn’t be like that for mere humans.

“Aye.”

She realized that his … his cock was still throbbing against her bare hip. “And what of you?” she asked, suddenly shy. How could she be shy after what she had just done with him? She reached for his shaft. She wanted to give him what she had just experienced.

“Nae.” His marvelous lips rolled the word out. His eyes were hot. “Ye ha’ no’ yet had th’ whole experience. If I can last, God help me, ye’ll peak again with me inside ye.”

Impossible! It would surely kill her. But she didn’t care. He kissed his way up her throat to her jaw, caressing her skin with those marvelous lips. His hands were big on her body, over her ribs, across her belly, around her hips, and down to her thigh. The throbbing began again between her legs. Her breasts grew heavy. He growled as he kissed her lips and she loved the fact that all he could do was growl. In spite of his protest she touched his cock again. Drops of moisture oozed from the tip onto her thumb. She rubbed the moisture over the head and down the shaft.

“Lord, woman!” he gasped. “I canno’ hold it.”

“Then don’t.” She put her lips on the place at the base of his throat where his pulse was pounding and licked the salty skin. She spread her thighs.

“Ye’re ready so quick?”

She just nodded, thinking she might burst if he didn’t bury his thick member in her right
now
. He moved into position over her. Her breasts flattened, her nipples just scraping the hair on his chest as he held himself with one elbow over her and positioned his cock with his other hand. “I’ll go gently now,” he whispered, easing into her.

She didn’t want gentle. She wanted to feel that hard flesh slide in through all her wetness. She reached around and put a palm on each buttock and pulled him into her. The shock of satisfaction as he filled her made them both moan. He felt huge, and she impaled on him. Then he was moving in and out, the muscles in his buttocks bunching and releasing under her hands. Her entire nether region suffused with sensation once again. Could she stand it? He covered her lips with kisses even as he pumped inside her. His cock split her, demanded of her. She arched into him, all thought narrowing to the feel of his mouth on hers, his hand on her breast, the sensation of his cock driving into her wettest, most needy parts. She didn’t have to think about the movements or wonder if they were correct. They came of wanting more of him inside her and arching to meet his thrusts, which were coming faster now. Then she couldn’t think at all, but just said “oh, oh, oh,” to match the grunts he emitted in time to his thrusts.

This time the world contracted to a tiny pinpoint of light … and then burst, like lightning and thunder all at once except inside her body, and she was keening as all her muscles contracted yet again. Then, wonder of wonders, he stilled, the muscles under her hands taut, and she felt him spurting inside her. They froze, immobile while the moment expanded and contracted.

They both tried to breathe. He swallowed and made as if to withdraw.

“No,” she said, pulling him in to her. “Just a little while more.” He eased himself over her, keeping his weight on his elbows, yet covering her with his body.

“Jane,” he murmured, his bass rumble caressing her name.

So this was what all the fuss was about!

She felt transformed.

Wait! What was she saying? She had been possessed by a frenzy. It might have been demonic. She had lost all control, all objectivity. At the very least she had just worshipped at the altar of Dionysus, not Apollo. She looked up at him and saw a look of … of what? Possessiveness?

Kilkenny’s weight suddenly seemed to pin her down. She pushed him off her, panting shallowly. He rolled away, startled.

She sat up, clutching her bodice together. Did she have no self-control, no decency? Even now just the sight of his … his genitals made her throb again. Where would this lead? Would she become just another silly female mooning after men? That wasn’t what she wanted. And Kilkenny! What did he care for her aspirations, her true nature? He just took advantage of her lust. She wanted to burst into tears again. And they were not the same kind of tears she’d just shed against his chest.

What had happened to her?

*   *   *

Jane pushed him off her and sat up, flushed and breathing hard. Callan rolled away, shocked. He knew he had given her pleasure. The raw emotion in her eyes a moment ago was amazement, tenderness. But now her eyes sparked with anger as she pulled her clothing together.