Part 12 (1/2)

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.”