...shift her train of thought onto a safer track. Instead, she wondered if he’d fulfill his threat to kiss her clitoris, and whether she’d be too embarrassed to enjoy it. She hoped she wouldn’t. The little organ was pulsing uncomfortably hard, and having his mouth there, suckling it as expertly as he’d sucked her breasts, would probably be a supreme relief.
Then she imagined him kneeling between her legs right in the cinema.
Edmund jolted to his feet like a flaming pitchfork had prodded him, which–truth be told–wasn’t far off the mark.
“So sorry,” he mumbled around his fully erect fangs. “Should have used the facilities before we left.”
Lord, what an idiot he sounded, but, “Me, too,” Estelle said and jumped up with him.
Edmund groaned to himself. His cheeks were hot with what he suspected was a very human blush. More than his family was gawping at them. Too bad he didn’t have the strength of character to fob Estelle off.
“Mummy,” complained the child in back of them, “make them sit down!”
“Stay,” he said to his own children, putting a mental push behind the order. “We’ll be back shortly.”
Despite his embarrassment, he kept Estelle’s hand in his as they squeezed down the row and up the aisle. He could see better in the dark than she.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered as she hurried to keep up with him. “I couldn’t sit there a second longer. Not with you next to me. Not when I’ve been thinking of you all day.”
“It’s all right,” Edmund panted, his various sensual aches now at the stage he could only call unholy. He rolled his lips into a concealing line. He was having difficulty thinking as he scanned the Imperial’s lobby, looking for the smallest scrap of privacy. The W.C.’s would have been an option if they hadn’t been gender specific. Though he could have cloaked them in his glamour, he doubted Estelle would accept that choice without question, and questions were bad right now. Questions meant precious minutes between him and having her.
“Please,” Estelle begged, surprising him. “Find someplace we can be alone.”
He looked into her lust-flushed face, into her bright, trusting eyes. For a second, all he could think was that her creamy cheekbones had been born to be that color. His brain snapped back a moment later, and he had to wonder at what she’d said. Estelle was no wanton. Had the strength of his needs communicated themselves to her, or was their relationship bringing out some latent earthiness? Either option made him want to groan. Her thighs rubbed together beneath her skirt, her weight bouncing impatiently on her toes.
“A cloakroom,” she suggested. “Anywhere. Just hurry.”
He grabbed her hand and tugged her down the nearest corridor, striding faster and faster as the urgency that goaded him intensified. Maybe both their lusts were driving each other’s. Estelle began to stumble but not complain. He was going to go mad if he couldn’t take her. He was going to drag her to the floor and–
“Closet!” Estelle gasped, pointing.
He turned the knob too fast to ascertain if it had been locked, or if his strength had broken it. They tumbled into the dark space kissing.
“I’m sorry,” Estelle apologized between his ravenous intrusions. His fangs daggers. He was going to cut her any second now. “I thought I was going mad.”
“I’m already mad,” he assured her. The Imperial was indifferently heated, and patrons rarely took off their coats. Now he struggled to remove Estelle’s hip-length Cossack style jacket so he could touch more of her. To his frustration, the closet didn’t provide the maneuvering room he needed to drag the suede down her arms. His own heavy Chesterfield didn’t help matters. The thing was big enough to be its own person. His foot clanged against a mop and bucket when he tried to move.
“Stupid coat,” he muttered to himself. “I don’t even feel the cold.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Ever practical, Estelle was busy with his buttons. “I’ll just open it.” Reaching his waistcoat drove a moan from her. At once, she slid her hands around the hard swell of him. The pressure was so welcome, he moaned back. “Oh, God, Edmund, is this why you locked yourself away that night in my flat? Were you so aroused you had to pleasure yourself?”
He couldn’t speak. Her fingers were massaging him, all the way under his balls. If that wasn’t enough, he thought she might be implying she was that aroused, and it rather shorted out his brain. Her hands fell from him, and he blinked at the sudden return of thinking power.
His upyr eyes had adjusted to the thin strip of light that came under the door. When he saw what she was doing, he doubted his thinking power would last long.
“Oh, God,” she moaned, wriggling her skirt frantically upward. “There’s hardly room for me to lift my legs.”
There was room, just, but they were going to make a racket bumping into all the cleaning equipment this closet held. Edmund doubted his concentration was up to mounting her and covering the sound with his power. At least they weren’t kissing anymore. His whole mouth was humming, and he feared he must have nicked her a tiny bit. He closed his eyes at yet another insane-making surge of blood to his groin. As desperate as he felt, no-holds-barred copulation was all this was going to be.
“We could look for somewhere else,” he panted even as he ripped down his zip. His cock sprang free without assistance, a thunderous creature too big for its own skin. It wanted badly to be sheathed in her wet softness. Soon, he promised it. “Maybe there’s a larger place.”
“No,” Estelle groaned. “I need you to take me now.”
Her fingers found the source of his madness, ringing his shaft and pulling the circle upward with sweet intent. Her right hand remembered precisely how he liked his foreskin played over his crown. Having her hand do it rather than his own–her warm, feminine fingers–caused Edmund’s nerves to shoot off rockets. With a flash of necessity fueled brilliance, he lifted her off the floor and kicked a pallet filled with who-knew-what under her feet.
“Hold your skirt out of the way,” he said with the harshness of extreme desire. “And spread your legs. I’ve got you at the perfect height to slide in.”
“I want to climb you.”
“You’ll kick things down and someone will come. Trust me. This will work.”
He hoped it would, at least. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if it didn’t, or what she would, for that matter. She whimpered when he slid one testing finger inside her sheath, her sex so wet, so hot he could have screamed with frustration for not having his cock inside it that instant.
“Sh,” he soothed, manipulating her firmly. “Try not to make noise.”
Hoping to take her edge off, if not his own, he brought her to a quick, hard peak with his hand. Her gasps and contractions were almost too much for him. With the sense that he was about go straight to heaven or hell, he tucked his crazily throbbing penis against her gate.
The orgasm seemed not to have calmed her.
“In me,” she demanded. Her fingers dug into his neck as her stance widened. “Put yourself in me now.”
There could be no waiting. She was ready, and he was dying. Despite the hardness of his erection, he rammed into her pussy in a single stroke. Ecstasy blinded him, like shoving his cock into liquid fire. Lord bless humans and their heat. Lord bless Estelle and her snugness. The bands of her inner muscles rippled over him. He almost forgot to stop her when she tried to lift her thighs around his waist.
“No,” he grunted, pushing them down. His body was shaking, his need immense, but he waited to make certain she would obey. In the pause, her hand slid between them to clutch her mons, squeezing her swollen clit between two fingers. She let out a sound that was like a sob. When he brushed his lips across her cheek, he found tear tracks. She wanted him literally enough to cry.
Everything in him that could soften did.
Everything that could harden set new records.
“I’ll do that,” he crooned to her. “Let me take care of you.”
He took care of her, but not gently. That wouldn’t have done the job for either of them. Rather, he braced his feet and drove into her like a berserk machine, his fingers working her clitoris as strongly as he thought her human flesh could take. She was slick and very swollen, twitching inside and out at the circling pressure he was exerting on her pleasure’s pearl. Her jerks of reaction were so violent he had to brace the door behind her with his other forearm, to prevent it from rattling in the frame. Keeping himself from thumping her into the wood was a true challenge. He knew she wanted to be shoved against it, to be decimated by every thrust, just as he wanted to be decimating her. At the moment, though, up was the only direction it was safe to drive into her.
He did that so forcefully he lifted her off her feet.
All of it–the obstruction of their clothes, the smallness of the space, the constraints on their positions–focused him on that one length of naked connection, where the hardest part of him lived only to pump and pump into the softest part of her. The nerves in his cock were painfully alive. Never had he been so aware of every movement, of every shift of pressure or increase in his partner’s lubricity. Estelle’s cream was dripping down him, and he could have sworn he counted the drops.
“Edmund,” she gasped, panic in the sound. She, too, felt the intensity of this joining and feared just how powerfully she was about to go over.
“Bite my shoulder,” he ordered as her pussy tightened warningly. “Otherwise, you’ll cry out.”
She cried out anyway, but at least it was muffled, her inner muscles clamping with amazing strength on him. Her contractions tugged his climax from him in a searing rush, the relief so overpowering it weakened his knees for a few heartbeats.
Estelle’s hips continued to squirm.
“It’s all right,” he said at her involuntary mournful noise. “I’ve got more for you tonight.”
He had more for her than she could imagine, his pace picking up almost before it had slowed down. He was in a frenzy for release, no readier to settle for a single orgasm than she was. He had to press her head against his shoulder to keep her from seeing what she did to him. He did sink his fangs into her collar a time or two, the tang of sueded leather a poor substitute for his drink of choice.
With his sixth skull-lifting orgasm, sanity returned.
It seemed to do so for her as well.
“Oh. My. Lord.” The words gusted from Estelle, the exclamation more than he could manage. “Oh, Edmund. Every inch of me feels incredible.”
He discovered he could go to his knees, after all, or maybe they just gave out. Their essences mingled strongly below her waist. His kind’s emissions evaporated swiftly, but he’d shot so heavily into her that they were still running down the inside of her legs. The wolf in him longed to roll in their blended smells. Offering it a compromise, Edmund placed his kiss exactly where he’d promised to, where her silky, swollen pearl poked out from her nether folds.
The pulse he found there was delectable. He had to pull it into his mouth, had to tug it with a rhythmic suction and coax it harder with his flickering tongue.
“Oh, I can’t,” she said, but her hips were cocking closer, her fingers tangling in his hair with renewed interest. Edmund dug the tip of his tongue under her little hood, delicately teasing the naked rod.
“Oh, Lord,” she murmured a bit higher. “Edmund, how do you do that?”
She made him want to show off all five hundred years of his cleverness. He brought her off twice more with his expertise, curling his thumbs inside her when she swore she couldn’t come again. Edmund knew better. Edmund knew all a woman’s trigger points.
When she came the final time, he had to rise and catch her before she fell.
Close to boneless, she rubbed her face across his chest. Her fingers kneaded his shoulders through his coat like a cat. When she said his name, it came out a purr.
“Better?” he growled back.
“Mmm,” was her hummed answer.
“We should return to the others,” he said, though he didn’t loosen his hold on her. “We’ve been away at least a quarter hour.”
“Is that all it was?” Estelle shook with a breathless laugh. “It felt like a really wonderful lifetime. You’re the goods, Professor. I think you made me see stars a couple of times.”
What she’d seen was probably his aura blazing out of control at his climaxes. He was fortunate she was inexperienced. Without that to help explain his various eccentricities, he’d have had to erase more of her memories of this evening than he wanted to.
COPYRIGHT 2009 BY EMMA HOLLY. IT IS ILLEGAL TO REPRODUCE OR DISTRIBUTE THIS WORK IN ANY MANNER OR MEDIUM WITHOUT WRITTEN PERMISSION OF THE AUTHOR.