Rajmund (38 page)

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Authors: D B Reynolds

BOOK: Rajmund
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Summoning her courage and her frostiest voice, Sarah said, “If you're finished, I'd like to use the bathroom."

He blinked. And blinked again. He didn't say anything, but took two steps away from the bathroom door, clearing the way, barely, for her to pass.

Sarah climbed out of the big bed, careful to keep the oversized sweatshirt she was wearing—one of
his
, obviously—from riding up. She had a moment's doubt when she hurried past him, standing there all big and hunky and glowering down at her. But she kept moving and quickly shut the door between them. Once inside, she leaned back against the closed door and blew out a breath of relief. That hadn't been so difficult. So he was a big, bad vampire. His minions might scurry around doing his bidding, even Emelie kowtowed to his moody self, but Sarah didn't have to. He'd made it clear there was nothing between them, so who was he to tell her where she could and couldn't go? If she wanted to drop in at every blood house in the city and dance the night away, it was her business not his. Hell, maybe she'd tell him so. That would be a shock to him, wouldn't it? A human weakling telling him where he could shove his macho bullshit? He should go back to Manhattan and all those beautiful women. They probably fell all over him, lining up to open their veins and their legs, too.

By the time she'd finished a quick shower and found an unopened toothbrush to use—and what was
that
about? Did he bring strange women here all the time that he had to keep a spare toothbrush on hand?— she was ready for the confrontation she knew was coming. He probably expected her to be all apologetic and ashamed. Well, guess again, fang boy.

She found her jeans still hanging on the back of the door from last night. They were somewhat damp having hung there through two showers, but with a few tugs and some chafed skin she finally managed to get them on and zipped. She was still commando beneath them, of course, but it was better than having nothing on at all. She took one look at the too tight, red satin bustier she'd worn, thought about squeezing into it again, and pulled Raj's sweatshirt over her head instead. It was loose enough that she could go braless for the short trip back to her house. There'd be no one to see her but Raj, and he wasn't interested anyway.

She took a deep breath, letting the air slide in and out of her lungs to relieve the stress, and then opened the bathroom door.

Raj was standing on the other side of the room, near the closet, when the bathroom door opened and Sarah stomped out. She immediately began searching for something, ignoring him completely. That surprised him. That and her attitude. He'd expected embarrassment, even shame. He'd thought she might slip into the bedroom quietly, so overcome with guilt that she wouldn't even look at him. He could have dealt with that, had even been prepared to make it easy on her and pretend they could forget the whole humiliating evening. But there she was, marching around, yanking the bedclothes aside, muttering under her breath and bending over in those goddamn tight jeans in a way that was very dangerous. To both of them. He was already hanging by a thread where she was concerned.

She located her shoes, standing first on one foot then the other to slip them on her feet. She was instantly several inches taller, and her legs looked a mile longer. He nearly groaned.

She finally looked at him. “I'd like to leave now."

"I'll take you to the warehouse. Em can arrange—” He stopped and stared at her. She was doing something with her hand, holding it toward him and opening and closing her fingers and thumb like a puppet talking or something. “What the fuck is that?” he demanded.

"That, oh great vampire, is
blah, blah, blah
. I need to know where my car is, with my things in it, and then I'm going home. If you don't want to drive me there, you can just open that stupid door and let me out of this dungeon. I'll get a taxi. It may surprise you to learn that I've managed on my own for several years with—"

She stopped mid-word, finally shocked into silence by his abrupt presence only inches away from her, her human senses having failed to see him move.

"Tread lightly, little one,” he warned. “You don't want to push me. Not tonight."

Her eyes darkened with anger, narrowing as she met his gaze evenly despite her surprise. “Really? And why is that, Raj? I'm tired of you thinking you have the right to control me. You're not my boyfriend and you're sure as hell not my keeper, so from where I stand, you've got no claim on me whatsoever. Like the song says, you don't want me for yourself so let me find somebody else. It's shit or get off the pot time, Raj. It's now or never. Time to—"

She gave a startled shriek as Raj swung an arm around her waist and lifted her off her feet. He threaded the fingers of one hand through her hair and pulled it aside, freeing the long line of her neck. “Then I choose now,” he growled.

Sarah cried out as Raj sank his fangs into the velvet skin of her neck and punctured the fragile wall of her plump jugular. Her cries turned to moans of pleasure and the blood began to flow, warm and sweet, just as he'd known it would be. She wound her arms around him, cradling his head, holding his mouth against her vein. The first orgasm shuddered through her body and she whispered his name over and over, until she was limp in his arms.

He lifted his head away from her neck and licked the wound closed, savoring the bouquet of her blood, the taste of her skin. She nuzzled against him with a contented sigh and he lifted her higher, cupping her ass in both hands and walking toward the bed.

"Don't get too comfortable, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I'm nowhere near done with you yet.” He lay her down on the bed and stripped away the sweatshirt he'd given her, relishing the sight of every inch of skin as it was revealed to him. He groaned at the sight of her breasts, full and heavy, with nipples and areolas so light a pink that he could barely tell where they ended and her pale skin began. Unable to resist, he lowered his head to taste them, sampling each hard, round nipple, feeling it swell in his mouth like a juicy, ripe fruit. Tracing the outlines of her breasts with his tongue, he moved down her body, unzipping the tight jeans, rolling them off her hips and over her flat stomach.

She arched against his hands as he slid the jeans further down her legs, as the cleft of her sex came into view, smooth and velvety but for a small patch of soft blond curls at the top of her mound. He tugged the pants over her feet and tossed them away, then stood and stripped off his own denims.

"Spread your legs for me, Sarah,” he crooned, lowering himself to the bed, sliding his thighs beneath hers. Sarah bit her lip, but spread her thighs enough that her legs straddled his, giving him a bare glimpse of her tender folds. He laughed low in his throat, almost growling as he placed his hands on her knees, running his fingers down the inside of her thighs. “Wider, little one."

She gasped, her entire body blushing with embarrassment as he spread her wide open to his gaze. “Such a pretty pussy.” He wet one finger in his mouth, reached out and let it glide through her slit, opening her even further to his inspection. “And so wet for me.” He breathed in the sweet scent of her arousal and hummed with pleasure.

"Raj!” she protested, but her body gave her away, her back arched with pleasure, nipples plump and begging for attention. His finger traveled up to the hard button of her clit and lingered, watching her shiver with desire as he circled it over and over again. “Raj,” she repeated, but in a whisper this time, full of longing.

Wanting, needing to taste all of her, he buried his face between her legs, his tongue replacing his fingers, her juices flowing, her clit pulsing as he brought her to orgasm after orgasm until she screamed his name, fingers clenched in his hair, jerking spasmodically as if not knowing whether to force him closer or tug him away. His tongue continued to explore her, tasting each new secret valley, while his long, thick fingers teased her from the inside, fucking her, tormenting her, promises of what was to come. She trembled beneath his assault, soaked with the juices of her latest climax, her voice hoarse from crying his name more times than he could count. She moaned suddenly, her head thrashing from side to side. “Raj. Please."

He circled her clit with his tongue once more before raising his head enough to ask, “Please, what, little one?"

She shivered beneath him. “I need you inside me. Please."

He slid up her body, rubbing his chin, his chest, the hard length of his cock against her sensitized clit. “Tell me what you want, Sarah,” he demanded.

She stared at him, hazel eyes dark with hunger and filled with tears. “Fuck me, Raj. Please fuck me."

He rewarded her with a slow, satisfied grin, spreading her legs wide around his hips as he sank between her thighs. There was no need for foreplay. She was soaking wet and ready for him. But she was small. And he was not. He slid into her with a long, slow thrust, feeling her body's resistance as it made room for him. She was tight. So tight. She gasped loudly, her fingers tightening against his arms, the muscles of her slick, hot tunnel squeezing his cock in protest at his sudden invasion. He paused for a few seconds, letting her body adjust to his size, and then beginning to move carefully in and out, going deeper with every thrust until her inner muscles softened around him, caressing him in a welcoming embrace.

He thrust hard, sinking himself into her to the hilt as he began fucking her in earnest, driving in and out, holding himself above her with his arms, watching her face, holding her gaze with every thrust of his body. She was murmuring his name, lost in pleasure, her overheated skin gleaming with sweat as she arched upward to meet him. He licked her skin, savoring yet another taste of her, salty and warm. She raised her knees higher and he pushed them against her chest so he could explore even deeper. She cried out and pulled him closer, her nails digging into his back.

He growled his pleasure and drove even harder, her small body lifting with every downward stroke, her breasts shaking, nipples as hard and large as cherries, and flushed as bright a pink. He lowered his head and bit into one, tasting the red juice of her blood, listening to her screams of pleasure as she crested and climaxed one more time.

The feel of her orgasm around his cock was too much for him. It rippled along his length like a thousand fingers, touching everywhere, stroking, massaging, encouraging, begging him to give up his seed. He threw back his head and roared as he crashed over the edge of desire and filled her completely.

Raj collapsed against Sarah, not certain he could move, every breath filled with her scent. He could feel her heart beating beneath him, could smell the scent of her blood. He groaned and rolled over before he crushed her completely, pulling her against him and tucking her under his arm with her head on his chest. He stroked her long hair gently, hearing the rhythm of her breathing grow smooth and even as she slowly relaxed. Her eyes were closed, but she continued to caress him with one hand, starting high on his chest and gliding down over his ribs to his hip and back up again, over and over.

This was a mistake. He knew that. But that didn't explain the bone-deep satisfaction he felt at having her lying sated and hot next to him, her blood already warming him as it coursed through his veins and into his heart. She was his. He'd known it from the moment he saw her, and no matter how much he fought it, no matter how much danger it put her in, he wanted her with him. In his bed, in his life. He sighed deeply, and Sarah's entire body shifted up and down with the movement of his chest.

"If you say you're sorry,” she murmured drowsily, “I'm going to stake you while you sleep."

Raj smiled and then laughed, holding her closer. “I'm not sorry,” he admitted. “Although this probably wasn't wise."

"Wise be damned. We'd never leave our houses if all we cared about was being wise. I don't want to be wise, I want to
live
."

"Ah."

She sat up and stared down at him sternly, the effect ruined by the tumble of her blond hair, the sway of her gorgeous breasts.

"Gods, you're beautiful,” he said softly. “I could stay here and make love to you for days."

Sarah blushed, but gave him a very satisfied smile. “Only days?"

"Well,” he began, pulling her closer so he could nuzzle one full mound. He bit her nipple lightly and said, “I have all the food I need right here, but you'll need to eat eventually, too."

"Right,” she said, breathlessly, already arching her back to encourage his tongue in its renewed explorations. “Oh, God, Raj!"

He rolled her under him, spreading her legs with his hips and sliding deep into her slippery, wet heat. Her body took him easily this time. She was still open, her walls still pulsing from their earlier lovemaking. He started slowly, thrusting in and out, withdrawing until only the tip of his cock rested against her and then plunging deep once again. She wrapped her legs around his hips, her cries of pleasure urging him to a faster speed. He felt her climax begin to rise, felt her body pulsing around him, sucking him in, caressing his cock until she fell over the edge of ecstasy and screamed wordlessly. Raj threw back his head and howled her name, claiming her to the world. She was his, only his, ever his.

Sarah lay beneath the weight of Raj's big body, feeling as if her every bone, every muscle, every tendon had melted, leaving her a puddle of humanlike liquid. A very happy and satisfied liquid to be sure, but certainly not capable of anything so ambitious as movement. He muttered something she didn't catch, then lifted himself on his powerful arms and shifted to one side, one arm reaching out to scoop her in close, as if he feared she'd get away.

She had no intention of going anywhere, but she knew Raj, and the next words out of his mouth were going to be something about keeping her far away from whatever was happening here in town. She was going to have to get used to that, she supposed. Used to having a bossy, arrogant, overly protective, wonderful, handsome lover of a vampire to care about her. Because he did care. He hadn't said it, not in words, but there was something about the way he held her, the way he looked down at her when they made love that said she mattered to him. He considered her
his
. And Sarah thought there were surely worse things in life than to be treasured by someone like Raj.

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