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Authors: Kim Harrison

For a Few Demons More (29 page)

BOOK: For a Few Demons More
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“I want to see, too,” he said, an arm curving around my waist and his head tucking into the hollow between my neck and shoulder.

His eyes weren't on my reflection. Trying to ignore the tingles his lips were creating, I looked in the mirror, my tongue feeling the backs of the caps. They had a delicate curve, and the backs were angular. I smiled and turned my head to get a good look, seeing how they fit into the concave space between my lower teeth. The memory of wearing wax fangs for Halloween when I was eight flitted through me and was gone.

“Stop flashing your teeth,” Kisten growled.

I turned to face him, his hands tracing a delicious path about my waist. “Why?” I bumped into him suggestively. “Does it bother you?”

“No.” His voice was terse, and his grip on me grew tight.

There wasn't much room in here, but when I tried to push him out, he stood firm. He was warm and solid, and I stayed where I was, putting my arms about his neck and using him to keep my balance. “Do you like them?” I whispered, inches from his ear.

“Yes.”

His lips traced a path across my collarbone, and I shivered, feeling the stirrings of desire.

“Me, too,” I said. Pulse hammering, I aggressively nuzzled his head away so he couldn't reach my neck, pulling myself up to run my new teeth teasingly across an old scar.

Kisten shuddered against me. “Oh, God. This is going to kill me,” he whispered, his breath warm against my shoulder.

My blood pounded as I felt the new power I had. Kisten had gone still under my teeth, submissive without being docile. His hands drifted down to trace my curves, tugging my shirt from my jeans as they came up again.

Fingertips roughened from work traced lightly over me, rising until they cupped my breast. His other hand was at the small of my back, pressing me into him. Breath quickening, I gently bit an old scar at the base of his neck, sensations rising almost too fast to appreciate.

I turned my attention to a tiny scar I knew was sensitive. I breathed in his scent, a relaxed tension filling me. I hadn't come here looking for this, but why not? A small voice in my head wondered if I was letting Kisten sway my thoughts so easily on the teeth issue to reaffirm that he and I had something real already—and that accepting Ivy's offer, the surprise of it aside, would be cheating on him. If so, I would be the only one it would bother. Vampires considered multiple bed and blood partners the norm and monogamy the exception. And though I wasn't a vampire, to accept polyamorous relationships without a lot of soul-searching, all I could think right now was this felt damn good.

I grazed my teeth the length of his neck, feeling his muscles tighten. Kisten's hands trembled, and I wondered why I was trying to figure this out right now. His sigh flashed adrenaline through me, and it was all I could do not to bear down and dent his skin. A wicked feeling was beginning to grow, and I relished it. I
could
bite him. I
could
sink my teeth. And I knew exactly what it would do to him. I wasn't a vamp to set his scars alight, but he was, and one vampire was all it took.

His hands moved against me under my chemise, and in the gap between us I sent one of my hands downward, wanting to undo just one button. Just one.

Fingers awkward from the tight fabric, I managed it. Unable to resist, I fumbled for his zipper. Kisten shifted his weight, pressing me
into the narrow slice of wall. His blue eyes were lost in black, and he pinned my hands above my head.

“You assume a lot, witch,” he growled, and a spike of desire shot through me.

“You want me to stop?” I said, leaning forward and forcing a kiss.

Oh, God.
His lips pushed aggressively against mine, tasting of wine. The thought of my teeth so close to his lips was thrilling. I knew Kisten could feel my need to find all of him building, and he played upon it. But as long as he had my hands pinned over my head, he couldn't stop me from tasting what I could reach.

A small shift forward and my lips found his neck. Kisten exhaled slowly. Enjoying being able to pull such a response from him, I explored, finding new reactions from old scars.

I should have done this before,
I thought, hooking one foot behind his leg and pulling him closer. As soon as I got home, I would have to see what Cormel's guide to dating vampires said about this.

My arms dropped to encircle Kisten's neck lightly as he let go of my hands, and a sliver of thrill hit when he moved us into the unlit hallway. My back went up against the thin paneling with a thump, and he slid my camisole strap down my shoulder, bending to kiss the newly exposed, flawless skin that I knew was irresistible to vampires. The smoothness of his capped teeth across my unmarked skin sent a tremor through me. If his phone rang, I was going to kill somebody.

My eyes slipped shut in pure enjoyment, and I worked by feel to undo the buttons of his shirt. Jazz played, and the sound of a boat echoed over the flat water. I couldn't get the last of the buttons—Kisten kept nipping at my skin to send jolts that didn't have the chance to ebb before he added to them. Giving up, I gripped his shirt and pulled until the buttons snapped.

Kisten
mmm
'ed in annoyance. He shifted his weight, pinning me. Eyes flashing open, I reached for his belt. “Give me what I want,” I whispered, feeling my new teeth. “And I won't have to get rough, vamp boy.”

“That's my line,” he said, his voice carrying a new edge to it.

The words were laced with blood hunger, and fear lanced through me, quickly stifled. Kisten's hands hesitated for an instant, to regain control, and then he continued. His restraint far stronger than mine,
he took my shoulders, holding me unmoving as he found the base of my neck, wanting my blood but not taking it as he worked my old scar.

“Oh, God,” I breathed. Unable to stop, I hoisted myself up, wrapping my legs around his waist and tightening my grip on his neck. He shifted again, adjusting for my weight. I could feel him heavy through his slacks, and my pulse quickened. Sensing it, his touch became aggressive, and silver threads of anticipation tightened to a hard ball in the pit of my being. This wasn't good. It was too much. I wasn't thinking anymore. It was too damn good.

I clutched at him, wanting the rush of feeling his teeth sink into me. If he knew how badly, he might ask, and I wouldn't be able to say no.
Ivy will kill him.

As if sensing my confusion, his lips became gentle, tracing a coolwarm sensation from the base of my neck to rise slowly to behind my ear, where he stayed, pulling with a gentle pressure—hinting at more. “Can you stay through the morning?” he asked.

“Mmmm,” I managed, making sure my willingness was obvious by sending my nails to trace the back of his neck.

“Good.” Carrying me, he headed down the hall to the night-darkened bedroom. The lights from Cincinnati were a soft glow reflecting off the water, and I spared a thought that I wasn't going to have the chance to wear that teddy. At least not tonight. His bed was under the bank of windows, but he set me atop the dresser, my legs still wrapped around him.

I was at an excellent height that lent itself to all sorts of possibilities—and feeling surged when his hand sketched a heavy path to my breast, his thumb teasingly caressing. Kisten's lips left me, and with a deliberate slowness, he pulled back. The motions of his fingers against me stopped. Almost panting, I met his eyes.

They were black with a familiar, collected blood lust, glinting in the reflected light. Adrenaline zinged through me to mix anticipation and fear. Something was changing—I had become more with my sharp teeth. They weren't just bits of bone, they were a source of power, giving me control over him through the sensations I could invoke. And Kisten knew it; that had been his intention in giving them to me. With his teeth capped and mine sharp, he had elevated me above him. The thought was a definite turn-on for both of us.

Eyes never leaving mine, he took the hand that I had slipped be
tween his open shirt and his back. He breathed deeply of my wrist, lids closing as he scented my blood. “You smell like my two favorite people all mixed up.”

His words sent a tremor rippling through me. Ivy's scent coated me, a soft memory of what they once had. The two of them had banded together in their vulnerable youth to survive, and I knew he missed their past closeness. He ached with his need to find it again. His pain pulled on me, making me want to give him what he needed, soothing both his body and mind. I wasn't coming in second behind Ivy but first; I could give him something she couldn't—everything he had found with Ivy, but ignorant of what Piscary had put them both through. I knew that was why Ivy had left him. She couldn't live with the reminder.

The draw to submit and give him everything strengthened, and when he felt me lean into him, his grip tightened. Body meeting his suggestively, I pulled his scent deep into me. It swirled through my body, the pheromones flipping switches until I ached with need. My hands slipped to his back, feeling the tension there and wanting so badly to get lost in him. I exhaled, my breath shaking. “Come here,” I whispered.

Tilting his head, Kisten held my shoulders and kissed my lower neck, gently, hesitantly, as if he had never touched me before. I lost my breath at the rush of feeling, the burning tracings of desire settling deep and low. I exhaled into it, calling it to me. The pause to gather our breath was over.
Oh, God. I have to do something.

Fingers fumbling, I reached for his slacks. The top button was undone, and I unzipped them, pushing them down enough to give him freedom. His hands were at my lower back, and I clasped my arms around his neck, lowering myself off the dresser so he could pull my jeans down. My feet touched the floor long enough to shake off first one pant leg, then the other.

Impatient, I tightened my grip around his neck, lifting myself back up against him until I was on the dresser again. His hands ran over my curves to my waist, then higher. A groan of anticipation slipped from me when he bowed his head. Massaging my breast with one hand and sending his lips over the other, he tugged and teased—the hint of teeth telling me what he could do if I let him, almost promising.

If he hadn't had his caps, he would have bitten me. Adrenaline
flashed deep, and I sent my hands down to find his taut, smooth skin. His motion against me grew rougher, and I responded. With a sharp tug, he leaned to find the base of my neck with his lips, his repressed need making him savage.

Feeling poured from my scar. I would have collapsed if he hadn't held me. My heart pounded as he eased up, and I could breathe again. Beneath my moving fingers, he was smooth and warm, a shocking contrast to his rough touch on my neck. His breathing deepened, and his teeth teased the skin about my scar, leaving me aching for him to find me fully. I squeezed my eyes shut, sensing the hint of coming ecstasy. I gasped, startled when he gave up his teasing and bit me without breaking the skin, hard and strong. Only his capped teeth stopped him.

Tension spiked through me, and I moaned. It hit Kisten like fear.

His fingers gripping my shoulders tightened. With a vamp quickness, he jerked me closer. I gasped again. Then, with my arms again about his neck, I shifted my body to make it easier for him, leaving the dresser entirely. He slid into me with an exquisite slowness that replaced reason with desperate need. I took a faltering breath. Lips parting, I brought the scent of him deep into me as he filled my mind and body both.

With him supporting my weight, we moved together. My arms were about his neck to keep myself to him, and I realized that apart from the obvious, I couldn't touch him with anything but my lips. The self-imposed restraint hit me, and with a frustrated desperation I went for his neck, tracing old scars and feeling a want grow headier with each shift of weight.

Kisten's breathing was fast, and he held me to him with a fervent need, moving toward climax. His mouth was on me, pulling. The thought of Ivy sinking her teeth flashed through me. Fear of the unknown dove to my groin, and Kisten moaned, sensing it.

I wanted Ivy to bite me, I wanted that feeling of utter bliss mixing with knowing the act was an affirmation of her being worth sacrificing for, all layered with the heady emotion of risk I craved. Even so, I trusted her to not bind me to her. But Kisten…Deep in my heart, he was still an unknown, the lure of the thrill of adrenaline driving me to risk everything. Ivy's protection was a crutch that allowed me to make myself vulnerable without risking his binding me to him. He couldn't bite me. But maybe…maybe I could bite him?

Adrenaline flared at the thought, and my hands upon him clenched even as I forced his lips to find mine.
Oh, God, I want to bite him,
I realized. I didn't want to bleed him or taste his blood. But I could fill him with that mind-shocking wave of ecstasy that waited just below his skin. The feeling of power over him was a rush almost as strong as fear. And I wasn't used to telling myself no.

“Kisten…” I panted as I pulled away. “Do you promise not to bite me if I bite you?”

His hands supporting me were shaking. “I promise,” he whispered. “You've asked, and I've said yes. Oh, God, Rachel. You might…you might pick up an echo of my hunger. But it's not yours. Don't be afraid.”

A surge of sensation struck through both of us. I felt the strength and satisfaction of power. Fear for tomorrow flashed through me and was gone. My hands went around the back of his neck, and I moved against him, feeling a new stirring of domination and desire.

My pulse thrummed. The scent of leather and wine drew on memories, pulling me to him. His lips parted, and with his drive singing in me to bring every cell awake, I silenced the part of me that rebelled against tasting another's blood and met his lips with my own.

Kisten exhaled in pained exhilaration. I eased into the kiss, tentatively tracing my tongue against his teeth as we moved together, doubly joined. My heart pounded, and I didn't care what might happen anymore. I couldn't move my hands to touch him or I'd fall, and I wanted to stay where I was, gripping him with my legs, feeling him inside me. Wild with need, our mouths moved together, and in an instant of abandonment, I found his lip. It didn't take much.

BOOK: For a Few Demons More
9.56Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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