Zane’s Redemption (23 page)

Zane growled. “Careful, Portia, if you bite me, you might be getting deeper into this than you want to.”

She met his eyes and noticed a strange glint there. Was he rejecting her, regretting what he’d just done? She averted her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

When he lowered her onto the bed, she scooted away from him, his rejection stinging. She cursed her inexperience. If she’d been with a vampire before, maybe she would know more about the etiquette around biting. As it was, all she had to go by was her instinct, and it told her that she wanted his blood just as much as she wanted his cock inside her.

Zane’s hand tipped her chin up, making her face his scrutinizing look. “Don’t get me wrong. I’d be honored if you drank my blood.”

Her heart jumped. “But then why—”

“Taking another vampire’s blood creates a connection …”

She knew all about blood bonds, her mother had explained it to her. “But if you don’t bite me at the same time, it won’t create a blood bond.”

“That’s not what I was talking about. Even without that, there’ll be a closer connection than if we were simply sexual partners.”

She frowned. Sexual partners, how clinical that sounded. “I see.” All he wanted was what she’d asked him in the first place: to help her lose her virginity. Nothing more, nothing less.

“You don’t.”

Zane shrugged his shirt off and dropped it to the floor. Then he stretched out his right arm, revealing the inside of his forearm. With the finger of his other hand, he pointed to the tattoo that marred his skin.

Portia’s eyes followed the direction, and her pulse skidded to a full stop. There, on his skin, six numbers were imprinted. It took her less than a second to realize what they were. She knew their significance from somewhere—from reading, or some class she'd taken, or maybe one of the many TV documentaries she'd perused. In any case, she knew that Zane had survived a Nazi concentration camp.

“This is what I am, Portia. I did unspeakable things to survive. You don’t want my blood, believe me. I’m an animal.”

Stunned at his self-hate, she stopped breathing.

“I’m a dirty Jew, Portia. Is that really what you want?”

He hated himself for being a Jew? She shook her head, unable to comprehend how he could have these feelings about himself. When he pulled away and lowered his lids, she realized he’d misunderstood her movement as an answer to his question.

“No!” she cried out and reached for his hand, pulling his arm closer to her. “Whoever said that of you is wrong.” How long had they repeated those words to him that he now believed them himself? What had they done to him to make him think he was dirty because of his heritage?

But Zane had already shut down again, his smile wiped off his face, his mask of indifference firmly in place.

“I want you.”

He shook his head. “I don’t want your pity or your political correctness.”

“It’s neither.” Damn it, why was he so stubborn?

Unconcerned with her nudity, she nudged to the edge of the bed and turned her head to his forearm once more. She brought it to her mouth and pressed a kiss onto the first number.

“Portia, stop …”

His protest died when she kissed the second number, then the third. By the fourth Zane was moaning softly, and when she kissed the fifth and then the last one, his other arm had come around her and his fingers combed through her hair.

“To me you’re beautiful, honorable, and strong. You’re the first person I’ve ever wanted to bite. But if you don’t want me to …”

Portia let her words hang there, giving him a chance to make a decision.

“You’ve never bitten anybody?”

“I was raised on bottled blood.”

The news appeared to surprise him. She watched how his eyes changed, how he seemingly fought an invisible enemy. A few tense moments passed, before Zane suddenly pulled her into his embrace and buried his face in her hair.

“When we make love, when I push through your hymen, I want you to sink your fangs into me and take as much blood as you want.”

“What if I can’t stop?” The way his blood smelled, she wasn’t sure she could withdraw in time.

“It would be a very sweet death.”

She pulled back and glared at him, only to realize that he was smiling. “How can you make a joke like that?”

“Who said it was a joke?”

“You have a very dark sense of humor, do you know that?” Because this had to be a joke.

“There are a lot of things about me that are dark, baby girl. And for your sake, I hope you’ll never see them.”

Before she could answer, his mouth was back on hers, drowning out any protest on that subject.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Zane deepened his kiss at the same time as he worked himself out of his jeans. Thanks to Portia’s enthusiastic help, he was naked a few moments later. Finally, he pressed her back into the mattress and covered her body with his.

Even though history had taught the world about the atrocities the Nazi’s had committed, and that the Jews weren’t the only ones who’d been marked for elimination, he’d never been able to shake the words they’d used to break him: dirty Jew. A deep-rooted belief that he deserved to be the vermin they’d turned him into at Buchenwald remained, as did the conviction that he’d never be able to cleanse himself of the acts of brutality he’d committed in the years after it.

He could have easily hidden his tattoo from her for a while longer, but something had urged him to point it out to her, eager to see her reaction. He hadn’t expected her to be so kind. However, when Portia had kissed the numbers that had once identified him as a prisoner, he’d felt the chains around his heart loosen. If an innocent like Portia could see past the mark that daily reminded him of his past, then maybe there was hope after all. Hope that one day he’d be free from pain and the need for revenge.

Free to love.

He banned the thought from his mind, and instead brought his attention back to Portia’s enticing body. He was one lucky son of a bitch that she’d gotten it into her head to have him be her first. Knowing that something like this would never happen to him again, he didn’t want to rush the moment. And the fact that she would take his blood while he was deep inside her, made the whole prospect so much sweeter.

Her lips tasted of surrender, and her hands that now roamed freely over his naked torso, spoke their own language, one of desire and passion, of eagerness and curiosity.

He severed his lips from hers and gazed into her face. Her cheeks flamed, and her breath came in shallow pants.

“We’ll take it slowly,” he assured her.

To his surprise, Portia shook her head. “I don’t want slow. I don’t want you to hold back.”

“But you’re a—”

She pressed her finger to his lips, silencing him. “I’m a hybrid. You can’t break me. Please.”

Zane stroked his knuckles over her cheek. “What do you want from me, baby girl?”

“Treat me like a woman you’re passionate about. Pretend you can’t control your desire. It doesn’t matter that it’s not real. Just make me feel it.”

Zane searched her eyes. “Pretend?” He leaned his forehead against hers. “I can’t pretend.”

There was a disappointed sigh, and it almost made him smile.

“I don’t have to pretend.” He brushed his lips over her eyes and kissed them. “You see, Portia …”

He took her wrists and pinned them on each side of her head. Her heartbeat instantly kicked up but she didn’t give him any resistance.

“… what I want is you panting when I thrust into you, and screaming for more, begging me to fuck you harder. Can you pretend for me?”

Portia’s eyes lit up, sending a bolt of heat through him. “What if I don’t need to pretend?”

Zane let a low growl of approval emerge from his chest. “Even if I hurt you?”

“You can’t hurt me.”

He closed his eyes for a second. There were so many ways he could hurt her, despite her being a near indestructible hybrid. “So you want real. You want sex without restraints, without holding back?”

“Yes.”

Without another word, he nudged his thigh between hers, spreading her. The scent of her arousal intensified, filling his bedroom. His cock brushed against her inner thigh, relishing the heat from her body.

Releasing her wrists, he cradled her closer and centered himself above her core. When he drew his hips back, his cock slid into the space between her thighs, stroking against her damp center. The brief contact almost undid him.

Slowly, he probed at her entrance, the tip of his swollen cock pressing between her outer lips, feeling the membrane guarding her virginity.

“God, you’re tight,” he whispered at her ear.

“Do it,” she urged and caressed his neck with her lips.

Zane tilted his head, anticipating what would happen next.

Portia’s pelvis pushed against him. Without a thought, he plunged forward, pushing through the hymen that represented the final barrier to her treasure, seating himself.

In the same instant, Portia’s fangs sank into his neck, piercing his skin. When she drew on his vein, intense pleasure speared through him, equaling the pleasure he felt being lodged deep inside her exquisitely tight pussy.

Fuck!

Her muscles squeezed him, making him clench his jaw shut to avoid a premature release. He allowed the moans that built in his chest to emerge freely, unconcerned about exposing himself and the depth of pleasure she gave him. Portia’s hand on the back of his head held him to her hungry mouth, but even if she hadn’t held him so tightly, he wouldn’t have pulled back. Her fangs in his neck were the most intimate sensation he’d ever experienced.

There was only one way to top it. Zane withdrew from her sheath only to plunge back inside, driving his cock harder and deeper into her than before. She was slick with her arousal, and every glide into her was pure silk on silk.

His triumphant growl joined her soft moans when the realization of their actions finally sank in. Portia had given him not one gift, but two: she’d accepted his blood and given him her virginity. In return, he would do what she’d asked for; unleash his passion on her and make her feel desired. Because she was.

The sounds of flesh slapping against flesh filled the room. Comingled with soft moans and sighs from Portia and the much more pronounced groans from him, a concert of lust and passion played out in the small house that had, until now, known only a quiet existence. No longer. The sounds of lovemaking bounced against the rafters and fell back onto them like waves crashing onto a beach.

Their bodies moved in perfect rhythm as if they’d done this a thousand times. At the same time, everything was new. And while Zane knew that Portia had never been with a man, he felt the memories of other women vanish from him as if somebody had wiped his slate clean. He felt as much like a virgin as the pliable woman in his arms. Never had he felt anything as sensual and as beautiful as the union of their two bodies. He had no memory of ever having touched other women. Only Portia counted, only her pleasure was important. Because if he could pleasure her, it would only serve to double his own satisfaction.

He worked his cock in and out of her, slamming his pelvis into her hard and fast, just the way she’d demanded earlier. He realized now that there was no way he could have gone slowly. Too much pent up lust drove him to pound his cock into her, to claim her pussy for himself, to make her want only him, no other man.

The desire to brand her flitted through his mind, but he knew she was really branding him. Not only with her bite but with the imprint of her fingers on his skin, fingers that had turned into claws and dug into his flesh.

Zane suddenly felt her withdraw her fangs from his neck and lick over the incisions, closing the skin with her saliva.

“Don’t stop,” he urged her and lifted his head.

She gazed back at him, her lips smeared with his blood, her eyes shining. She was even more beautiful now.

“I love your taste.”

Her admission made him want to howl at the moon like a wild animal. She carried his blood now, and she loved it. He couldn’t ask for more. It was already more than he’d ever expected. And now that his blood was running in her veins, he knew she was stronger. His blood would have a potent effect on her, one he was more than willing to exploit.

Zane withdrew from her and lifted his body, only to flip Portia onto her stomach.

“Oh!” was all that escaped her lips.

“You did say not to hold back,” he reminded her and captured her hips in his hands, pulling them up.

Her heart-shaped ass drew back, and her thighs spread.

“Good girl,” he praised.

She moaned when he slipped his hand between her cheeks and along her cleft before he thrust a finger into her warm slit.

“I’m gonna fuck you from behind. You wanna know why?”

“Why?” The word was more moan than voice.

He positioned himself at her center, pulling out his finger and guiding his hard shaft to her glistening folds. Her skin was red and swollen, but he wouldn’t give her reprieve. She could take him.

“When you’re on your hands and knees, I have complete control over you. I can fuck you as hard as I want to. You’ll be at my mercy.”

“Yes … oh, God, yes …”

Zane drove into her, ramming his rod into her to the hilt so hard, her entire body lifted and moved a couple of inches toward the headboard. He gripped her hips harder and pulled her back, impaling her so his entire length was buried in her.

“Again,” she spurred him on.

She didn’t need to tell him twice. Zane repeated his action and found a rhythm that was driving him quickly toward the abyss. But he couldn’t allow himself release before he’d made her come. Releasing her right hip, he slid his hand over her stomach and down to her nest of curls, finding her clit.

Fully engorged, it peaked from beneath its hood. Drawing juices from her pussy, he moistened his finger and rubbed it over her sensitive organ, eliciting a pronounced moan from Portia.

“Oh, God!” she gasped.

Zane rubbed his thumb over it again, back and forth, then in a circle, steadily increasing the pressure. He watched for her reactions and honed his caress to her preference, all the while thrusting deep and hard into her from behind.