Blood Flame Page 8

  She wanted this as much as he did.

  His gaze was caught by the white mounds of her breasts. His jaw trembled with need. Using his arm to support her, she was able to reach behind and unclasp her bra.

  His intake of breath was a slow hiss as his gaze floated over her bare breasts. Her nipples were erect and with a grunt he fell on her chest, taking as much of her left breast in his mouth as he could.

  But his pants had become a serious hindrance. “Time to get rid of some of these clothes.” His voice sounded hoarse to his own ears.

  She eagerly slid off his lap to sit on the grass. “Shirt off,” she commanded. “I want to look at you.”

  He smiled, knowing the effect his muscled body had on women. He was on his knees as he lost the tank.

  But she held out a hand, stopping him from moving. He didn’t know why, until her gaze took in his shoulders, his chest, his stomach. She shifted to her knees as well and with her hands caressed his chest, feeling him up.

  The altered life had given him strength. He pumped iron, but only required a quarter of the time his human counterparts would need to get the defined look the Border Patrol men carried. She fondled his pecs, and he wasn’t surprised when she leaned into him and took some of his flesh in her mouth.

  The suckling had his cock standing straight up and begging for the same kind of attention. While she worked his chest, he unbuttoned his leathers and began pulling them down, freeing his erection.

  As she continued to touch him and suck on his pecs, she kept making small moans and coos, all sorts of sounds that helped him know how much she was into him.

  Was this really happening?

  He’d had many fantasies about making love to her, but none of them equaled the simple touch of her tongue, her lips, her hands. A soft witch energy flowed from her as well, as much an erotic sensation as everything else she was doing.

  When she leaned back, panting, he went to work on her jeans. Of course by the time he had them peeled down to her knees, he realized he had to get rid of her shoes.

  He untied them as quickly as he could. But once he had the rest of her clothes off, she surrounded his cock with both hands, fondling him. He was still on his knees and his leathers had him trapped. She scooted closer, smiling up at him.

  All he could do was stare at her awestruck.

  “I think I know what you’re feeling,” she said. “It’s as though we’re the first people in the entire world to have ever done this.”

  “Your touch is like that for me.”

  “And how about this.”

  When she bent down and her warm, wet mouth surrounded the head of his cock, he groaned heavily. His breathing grew rough right away and his hips arched, thrusting his cock deeper into her mouth. She sucked at the same time, and when he pulled back, she caught the rim of his cock with her lips, then flicked her tongue quickly over the tip.

  He put a hand on her shoulder and withdrew. “I’ll come too soon.”

  She released him then rose and with both hands pushed him onto his back. He wasn’t sure she’d understood his dilemma until he realized her intent was to get him naked. She made quick work of his boots and leathers.

  As he lay against the cool lawn, with Iris kissing her way up his legs, he felt as though he’d dropped into heaven. He wanted to stay here forever.

  He thought back to the couple on Sentinel, their half-hearts and the certainty they’d been lovers. He’d been appalled at the time, despite the fact he’d been lusting after Iris for months.

  But now that he was here, in Iris’s garden only a few hours later, he understood. In thirty years, he’d had a lot of very brief relationships with vampire females, some of them good, worthy women. But none of them had made him feel that maybe life would be okay. And that’s what Iris did for him.

  She crawled up his body, careful when she was between his legs, then kissed his abdomen and tongued his six-pack. He caressed her face at the same time, sliding his hand behind her neck. “I love what you’re doing to me.”

  “You have a magnificent body and I intend to show a lot of appreciation.”

  He smiled, savoring that she was sucking his pecs again and moaning at the same time. She was as eager as he was.

  When his hips arched, she rose up and straddled him. He nodded his encouragement as she reached between her legs to hold his cock in place then lowered her sex onto him.

  The moment he felt her wetness, he groaned heavily once more. He was where he’d wanted to be for a long time now.

  Her whole body undulated as he began to push inside her. “Oh, Connor.”

  Her voice sounded loud in the garden. “Do we need to worry about the neighbors?”

  She shook her head. “The spell blocks the noise.”

  He groaned when she rolled her hips. “Thank God for your witchness.”

  After she’d rocked over him several times, he had an idea of his own. “Let me.”

  With her lips parted, she nodded then leaned over him, balancing herself with her palms planted on his chest. He began to thrust, rocking his hips and driving deeper into her each time until he was fully seated.

  She cried out. “You have no idea how good this feels.”

  He had to disagree. “Trust me, I have an inkling.”

  He realized then she had tears in her eyes. “I didn’t think it was possible to feel this way as a witch. I thought part of what I’d lost because of the alter was the ability to be passionate. But Connor, I’m coming apart here.”

  He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her close so that her head was on his shoulder. “It’s okay. I know I said this to you earlier, but I’ll say it again now: let it go.”

  He felt her sob again. He was buried deep, and the woman was crying. Maybe it was a witch thing, that she was communicating with him in ways not human at all, but he felt her pain and how deep it was. He closed his eyes and while she wept, he remained very still except for his hands which he used to rub her back and shoulders.

  After a minute or two, her tears subsided and she grabbed for her t-shirt and wiped her nose and face. “You’re such a kind man, Connor. Thank you. I don’t know why that happened.”

  He pushed her hair away from her face. “It doesn’t matter. You’ve been through a lot and not just tonight.”

  She kissed him, her body pulling on what was still hard. She moaned again, then lifted up. “I want to be on my back.”

  Connor’s turn to moan. He caught her bottom in one hand, holding her tight against him. With great care, he rolled them both over so he could stay connected. It was a bit tricky, but he had enough girth to get the job done.

  At the same time, his fangs began to emerge, something he couldn’t help, something he wanted to do with Iris badly.

  But now that she was beneath him, what was very male in him took over. He moved into her, all the way.

  Then he went to work.

  ~ ~ ~

  Iris rolled her head back and forth on the cool grass, her body eased with each drive of Connor’s cock, each thrust like heaven.

  She wasn’t sure why she’d lost it, except that her grief about living in Five Bridges and being separated from all that she’d once loved and cherished, whether through death or the alter, had somehow come down to this moment with Connor. Now she was looking up at him, his shoulder-length hair moving in waves as he thrust, his blue eyes almost intense as he pushed into her.

  She rubbed her thumb over his lips. He’d been nothing but kind throughout the entire difficult night, and now he was making love to her.

  He leaned down as he thrust, connecting his chest to hers and kissing her.

  She surrounded his back with her arms, gliding her hands gently over his thick muscles. She loved how he felt, moving as he was. His whole body was engaged in the rhythmic, undulations that had her breaths coming in light pants. In response, her sex pulled on him, needing him, wanting what he could give her.

  She gripped his ass, loving the flex and release of his b
uttocks. Her sex tightened. Was this really happening?

  He began slowly nudging her chin aside, farther and farther until he was licking a line up and down her neck.

  She gasped, remembering. Vampire.

  Her sex released a series of pulses. She was on the verge.

  “May I feed, Iris? Do you trust me enough to let me feed from you?” Once he began, he had the power to keep going until she was drained dry in what was known as a vampire thrall. It was the balance of Five Bridges. She could kill him with a touch. He could take her life once he sunk his fangs.

  Her breaths came out in harsh gasps. “I didn’t think I’d ever say this, Connor, but I want you to bite me more than anything else on earth right now. And yes, I trust you.”

  He groaned yet again and with the practice of decades, struck her throat, nipping through to the vein. When he began to suck, she cried out because she’d never imagined it would feel so incredible.

  His hips were back in motion as well so she had two sensations pummeling her at once. Her body felt lit with fire as he sucked. And she was feeding Connor, taking care of his vampire blood needs.

  She knew this was considered a thrall, but for some reason she was still able to move. Every account she’d heard spoke of a paralytic condition; the vampire could drink as long as he wanted. But right now she didn’t care that the rules didn’t completely apply to her.

  She moaned, her hips rising up to push against his as he thrust. She gripped his shoulders and cried out. It all felt so good.

  Suddenly, he released her neck, swiping the wounds to seal them. “Your witch blood. Iris, it’s like a drug. I feel strange but really strong.” His thrusts were steady and purposeful.

  She caught his face with both hands. Had her blood done something to him? “Are you all right?” He looked wild, his eyes rolling in his head.

  His hips began to move faster. “I’m fine. I’m better than fine. My God. Iris!”

  When he focused on her once more, his eyes had a powerful glint and waves of vampire energy flowed over her, adding yet another layer of sensation. She felt his energy merge with hers, a beautiful aligning she hadn’t expected.

  She was one with him, in every way possible.

  He held her gaze and she let herself fall into his eyes. She moved with him, moaning. Pleasure began to rise as she’d never known before. Her heart pounded in her chest.

  She dug her nails into his arms as ecstasy roared toward her. It came like a locomotive, racing along, then sweeping her off the rails and high into the air.

  Still holding his gaze, she screamed as searing pleasure drove through her well, up and up, capturing her heart and finally exploding through her mind.

  Connor lifted up, and roared into the night. She gripped his arms, her body writhing beneath his. Just when she thought it was over, another wave swept through her and she screamed again.

  Connor stayed with her, keeping the pleasure flowing. He rocked his hips while he kissed her throat, her cheeks, her lips until at last the orgasm began to subside.

  She was breathing hard, Connor as well.

  He rested his forearms on either side of her, supporting his muscled weight. She slid her fingers into his hair, damp from exertion. He smelled like the leather he wore, and there was just a hint of gunpowder from the shot he’d fired in Gary’s office.

  She loved it all, loved that the events of the night had brought them together, when nothing else could have.

  He smiled faintly, and she swore he wanted to say something, but couldn’t. Then a sad light entered his eyes as he leaned down to kiss her cheek, her chin and put a brief pressure on her lips.

  She thought she understood. “Even if we never do this again, Connor, it was wonderful. Magical.” She chuckled softly. “Unbelievable.”

  “It was. But it feels damn temporary.”

  “I know.” She searched his eyes. “Will you stay here tonight? I mean through the day? Sleep in my bed? I’d love it if you would.”

  “I want nothing else. Besides,” he glanced up at the spell over her house, “I think we’d both be safer here.”

  “I think you’re right.”

  He glanced around and reached to the left where his clothes lay. He grabbed his tank and as he pulled out of her, he tucked the shirt between her legs.

  She knew then what kind of husband he’d been and her heart broke all over again, for both of them and what they’d each lost because of the alter.

  He was a good man, despite that he was a vampire.

  ~ ~ ~

  Connor shifted to recline beside Iris. Dawn wasn’t pressing on him yet, though it would soon. But right now, he didn’t want to leave the garden, or the moment.

  He felt profoundly connected to Iris right now. He knew she’d been forced to leave a husband behind when she’d gone through her witch alter. Then her sister had died some time during the first year the two women had come to live in Elegance. Even so, her sadness felt deeper still, though he didn’t know in what way.

  His own pain was very different. Yes, he’d buried a wife, but that had been before he’d come to live in Five Bridges.

  His remorse and suffering had occurred after his vampire alter and during his work with the Crescent Border Patrol. In the line of duty in one instance and after being abducted and shot up with blood flame in another, he’d ended up hurting and killing a lot of innocent women. Their deaths lived inside him like a wound that could never heal. He wasn’t worthy of a real relationship with Iris or any woman. His time with Iris was a stolen season.

  In the last thirty years, since he’d lived in Five Bridges, he’d never experienced anything as profound as what he’d just done with Iris. He had no words. He flexed his right arm. He honestly felt pumped up from her blood.

  Christ, the woman’s blood. Witch blood. Full of power. He’d felt the moment as well when he could have kept going and taken her life. Witches might be able to touch vampires and kill them. But once a vampire started to drink, his victim couldn’t stop the process. The vampire had complete control.

  That she’d been able to move at all was one more indication of her power as a witch.

  His mind spiraled down into the past, to the horrendous witch massacre he’d been part of. Though his memory was spotty because of the level of blood flame he’d been given, he knew the witches had all been tied up so they couldn’t employ their killing power. Reports later indicated most of the women had been drained to death.

  He shuddered.

  Iris put a hand on his chest. “What’s wrong?”

  “The past.”

  “Don’t think about it too much, not right now. Plenty of time tomorrow.”

  She was right. He had Iris beside her. What else did he need?

  He slid his arm beneath her shoulders and she rolled to stretch out alongside him, her arm draped over his stomach. He looked up into the tree. The cat had climbed up as well and sat beside the owl. Each peered down at them.

  He chuckled, then without warning his throat grew tight and his eyes started to burn. “This is a stolen season, isn’t it?”

  “It is.”

  She lifted her face to him and offered a soft smile. He kissed her again, running his hand along the dip of her waist and the curve of her hip. The word ‘love’ rose to his lips. He almost used it, wanting to badly. But it was too soon and most likely, he would never have the chance. There were truths to be spoken and when they were, his time with Iris would end.

  His chest felt crushed. He wanted to say something to her, to express his gratitude, but couldn’t. He was feeling too much

  Then she spoke several magical words all strung together. “Are you hungry? I mean I know I just fed you, but neither of us has eaten since this whole thing began. I could do sandwiches. I have a nice pumpernickel bread and pastrami. No fancy mustard, though. Oh, and a really strong Stout beer.”

  He groaned. “You have no idea how perfect that sounds. I mean it.”

  She rose to her feet. She
drew the tank from between her legs, but kept hold of it as she gathered up her own clothes and her gun and holster.

  Gaining his feet, he did the same with his belongings then followed after her as she headed to the back door. Along the way, he glanced into her bedroom, really liking that it overlooked the garden as well from a pair of French doors. Glancing up, the spell looked as strong as ever. From his point of view, this would be a solid place to remain through the day.

  Once inside, she turned to look at him over her bare shoulder. “I’m going to clean up a little then I’ll be right back.”

  “Anything I can do?” he asked. He set his clothes on the couch.

  “You’re fine. I’ll only be a couple of minutes. It’ll be quicker if I fix the meal myself.”

  “Okay, but let me know if you need anything.”

  He put his tank and leathers back on, grateful he had a clean change of clothes for tomorrow. And he’d definitely want to shower before bed.

  When Iris returned, he watched a whirlwind whip around the kitchen as she moved from cupboard to fridge to sink and back. Within a couple of minutes, he was chowing down on an excellent sandwich.

  ~ ~ ~

  An hour later and ready for a good day’s sleep, Iris stared down at the faded pink-and-green flowered quilt on her bed. She hadn’t slept beside a man in ten years. Though the queen-size mattress had been more than enough for her, it seemed to shrink but in a good way. Connor was a big man.

  While he showered, she drew the covers back, turned the sheet down and plumped the pillows. She felt oddly nervous, knowing she’d be sleeping beside him. In many ways, she barely knew him.

  Her room was simple, with an antique chest of drawers, a full-length mirror, a basket of dried flowers on the floor, smallish oak end tables. The French doors served as the main window. More light came from a long, narrow, diamond-paned panel of glass above the bed but only a foot from the ceiling.

  Because of the protective spell, she’d felt comfortable leaving the French doors wide. She loved fresh air in a bedroom and early March had perfect temperatures in the desert to make it possible.

  Slipping off her robe, she climbed into bed. She rarely slept in a nightgown and saw no need to wear one now. Besides, she was pretty sure Connor wouldn’t mind at all.