Call Her Mine (19 page)

And why would she if she
was banging all the single men on the farm?

Christian grunted and
stepped back. The warmth of his body left a phantom chill in its absence.
“Delilah.”

There was censure in his
voice. Crap, he was probably reading her thoughts again. Damn nosey vampyre.
She took a deep breath and turned to face him. Yup, he wasn’t happy. She
waited.

“Abigail is—”

“Look, you don’t need to
explain your past to me. I’m sure you don’t want a detailed list of my dating
history before you came along.”

He scowled. “Abigail is
my cousin. Her mother Mary was my mother’s sister. She is allowed to visit
here, because Abraham knows I will look out for her like kin.”

Please carefully insert
foot between fangs.
“Oh.”

His frown remained in
place. “You pass judgment entirely too quickly.”

She lowered her head.
Didn’t she feel like the jerk? His fingers tipped up her chin until their gazes
met. “Were you jealous,
pintura?”

“No!” she scoffed and
lowered her lashes.

The corner of his mouth
kicked up. He stepped closer and the warmth of his touch returned, nearly
burning through the thin fabric of her chemise. “Well, I have no issue
admitting that the idea of you dating someone before me makes me insane with
jealousy.”

She opened her eyes. His
pupils were dilated and smoldering. “It does?” she asked, somewhat breathless.

“Very. It makes me want
to take you right here in the kitchen, claim what’s mine, and bury myself so
deeply inside of you, no other man will ever tempt you again.”

Her sex thrummed and
heat pulled low in her tummy. She sighed. That sounded really, really nice. The
hem of her chemise tickled her calves as Christian’s fingers leisurely gathered
the fabric above her knee.

“It was very sweet of
you to make me breakfast this morning,
pintura.”

His warm fingers grazed
the flesh of her thigh.

“I like it when my mate
sees to my needs. I like when she is driven, as if it brings her pleasure, to
meet my needs.”

“I wanted to,” she
breathed. Her head tipped back and his mouth pressed over the hollow of her
throat.

“I have other needs,
Delilah.”

She exhaled, needing to
release some of the desire building up inside of her. His fingers grazed the
apex of her thighs and she quivered in his arms. He somehow backed her up to
the table.

“Would you like to see
to these needs as well?” He gently sucked on the money spot at the curve of her
shoulder. Her knees shook. That spot got her every time.

“Yes,” she whispered and
his warm finger slipped between her folds and into her heat. A deep moan turned
into a steady purr in her throat.

“I do not wish to press
you to do something you do not want.” His mouth worked from one shoulder to the
other, kissing and sucking on various sensitive points of her neck.

She arched her body into
his touch. No forcing going on here. If he stopped touching her she might go
rabid on his ass.

“Don’t stop,” she
whispered breathily.

He withdrew his finger
and slowly, but deliberately plunged it back in. “That’s it,
pintura,
let
me make you feel good.”

A second finger joined
the first and then a third. He was bringing her there quickly, stretching her,
filling her. She arched backward and he eased her to the table. Her knees fell
apart, her chemise twisted at her hips. Christian leaned over her sex, his
breath tickling her folds as his fingers worked in and out of her. She gasped
and jerked as his tongue flicked her Queen Christina, the piercing just over
her clit.

“I have missed your
taste, Delilah. Never has anything ever tasted so decadent on my tongue.”

He pulled her thighs
father apart and licked over her folds, his tongue grazing the tiny hoop
hanging over her clit. All of her focus was centered on that talented mouth.

She arched into him, his
wicked tongue licked as those soft lips closed over her and suckled. His
fingers pressed into her. Delilah’s hands sifted through his hair and held him
there.

“Yes,” she cried and he
suckled harder, pulling her clit, licking her folds, stabbing his tongue deep.

Her orgasm built and his
hands slid over her hips. The pinch of his fingers digging into her ass was
what pushed her over the edge. She shouted his name as the first pulsing wave
washed over her. He never relented, his mouth working every throbbing
contraction higher and higher.

Her knees shook and her
back arched. Breath sawed from her lungs and she was suddenly being lifted.
Drowsy, she opened her eyes. He was sitting in a kitchen chair and pulling her
onto his lap. His half-lidded gaze burned as he helped her seat herself. He had
opened his pants at some point.

His flesh was hot
against her thighs. “Take me inside of you, Delilah.”

This was the connection
that had been lacking the night before. She reached between them and wrapped
her fingers around his wide length, guiding him to her center. She was so wet
he glided right between her folds. Her body lowered, his palms supporting her
back, and they both groaned in pleasure.

His gaze never left hers.
This was the connection she’d been looking for, the link of not just two
bodies, but two minds.

Her hands coasted over
his shoulders and tugged at the collar of his shirt. Her fingers pressed into
his warm skin as she lifted herself over him. His grip on her back tightened
and then he lifted her chemise off. The chill of the kitchen had her nipples
pulling tight, but his hot mouth soon warmed her needy flesh.

His lips closed over one
pierced nipple, pulling tight. She rode him, riding his cock as he sucked. He
switched from one breast to the other. Her body grew slick with sweat and her
leg muscles burned deliciously. He filled her so completely. It was better than
anything she’d ever known.

They might not be
capable of talking without arguing, but as far as fucking was concerned they
had it nailed.

As it went on, he
groaned and arched with her, lifting his hips, meeting every drop of her body
with a hard thrust. His back bowed against the back of the chair and they soon
went wild. Her cries ricocheted off the plain kitchen walls. His louder grunts
a beautiful baritone, anchoring each cry.

The fabric of his pants
muffled the slap of her flesh. Her eyes closed as she embraced every sensation.
The sweet smelling air from breakfast now tinged with the mixed essence of
their arousal, the sound of their heavy breathing accompanied by their cries
and groans of pleasure, the weight of his hold, so possessive and strong. The
taste of the salt on their skin. It was all so erotic.

He gripped the back of
her neck and she opened her eyes. “Kiss me,
pintura.”

Her mouth crashed over
his. Lips, teeth, and tongues mingled with frenzied need. He forced her down on
his cock and ground himself into her. Her clit beat with the same rhythm of her
heart as his mouth mimicked the thrust and pull of their bodies below.

Pressure built and her
body trembled. “Christian, please…”

He thrust into her hard,
again and again until she cried out and came. Her sex clamped down on him and
he groaned long and low, his voice breaking as he growled out her name. Heat
filled her channel and she clung to him, her fingers digging into his muscled
shoulders.

Their motions slowed and
he now gripped her close as though he’d never allow her to let go. She needed
the support apparently as much as he needed to hold her. Fan-fucking-tastic.
She didn’t know if it was an Amish thing or a vampyre thing, but sex with
Christian was beyond anything she ever experienced before.

Chapter Seven

Christian held the
basket of fresh cornbread Delilah made and leaned forward to knock on the door.
He was still confused about why they were here, but after approaching
Cain—awkwardly—that afternoon, the young male wholeheartedly extended an
invitation for them to join him and the other Hartzler children for dinner.

They waited and Delilah
bounced happily beside him. Today was the first day in a week he actually would
be willing to call a success. He was still reeling over the fact she had made
him breakfast—and she had not tried to poison him. Not that poison would kill him,
but who needed all that pain and the long process of evacuation?

Then there was the sex
they’d share that morning. It was everything the evening before was not.

Christian had been
intimate in the past, but nothing compared to the incredible sensation of being
intimate with his mate. She was…beyond description. Her beauty and grace—when
she chose to display it—left him without words. He was a very lucky male.

As his mind recalled the
events of the past few days, he wondered if her mood the previous evening was
not a result of her repulsion, but a result of distance. He hadn’t reached out
to her and perhaps that was what had hurt her most, because the moment he
actually spoke softly to her she seemed to soften. He adored spying those
gentle sides to her otherwise abrasive persona. He liked her rough, too, he was
coming to find. Simply put, he liked
her
.

So desperately he wanted
to touch, hold, and comfort her, but her welcome of his touch remained a guess
up until this morning. His mate, he was learning, was a softhearted soul.
Perhaps, in time, he could share his own softer sides. The previous night had
been another mistake. He was so out of practice with females and had no
experience with mates. He’d hurt her and like a dunce, it took him a long time
to figure out why.

Christian never allowed
his vulnerabilities to show. Control and a veil of indifference had been
ingrained in him since he was a boy sitting among elders on the council.
Delilah was a lot like him in that manner. She spoke in a sarcastic language he
did not always understand. But he was coming to see she hid vulnerabilities as
well. He’d spotted some of that insecurity the first evening they met, but had
not seen it since. She too wore a veil it seemed.

He craved the trust he
witnessed with other mates, but feared showing his insecurities to Delilah
would only give her ammunition when they argued. It was difficult, at times, to
be a male, always putting aside his more emotional needs for the appearance of
strength and assuredness.

The door opened.
“Finally!” Cain said, stepping aside to let them in.

Christian had never been
inside their home before. Already the smells struck him as odd. Cain was the
least traditional of all the males on the farm, from his understanding. There
was some odd mix up with his mate and he was married to the girl, Destiny, but
she was not his actual mate.

“Destiny, Delilah’s
here,” he called as he drew Delilah into his arms and planted a kiss on her
cheek. Christian stifled a growl.

The small curvaceous
wife of Cain stepped out of the kitchen. Her breasts filled the front of her
dress and her hair was down around her shoulders and curly. Perhaps he was
wrong in assuming these females would be good influences for his mate.

“Delilah! Christian! I’m
so glad you guys could make it. Usually Abilene, Gracie, or Anna does all the
cooking. Cain and I rarely get to play the host and hostess. This is sort of
exciting for me. Do you like Portuguese food? I miss it terribly and luckily,
here on the farm, I can usually manage to make the same recipes I was raised on
at our farm in Portugal.”

Did the female ever take
a breath? Destiny pulled Delilah into the kitchen and Cain directed him to the
den.

“So, Chris, how’s the
mating going? Tired yet?” Cain asked and chuckled.

“Christian,” he corrected.

There was more noise
coming from the front of the house. Adam, Cain’s twin, stepped in with two
children in his arms, one a little girl, sound asleep on his shoulder, and the
other a dark haired young boy holding a wooden ship.

He lowered the boy to
the ground and the child scrambled about the floor as if there were invisible
waves for his ship.

“Here, I’ll take Lucy,”
his mate, Annalise, said, reliving Adam of the sleeping child.

“How do you do, Brother
Christian?” Adam greeted. Christian appreciated the brother’s attention to
tradition.

“I am very well, Adam.
And yourself?”

“Very good. Is your mate
with you?”

“She is in the kitchen
with the females.”

“I will have to
introduce myself. Annalise said they had a nice visit the other day.”

“Indeed.”

The front door opened
again and a young female’s voice shrilled. “Will you leave me alone!”

Gracie Hartzler entered
the den, appearing flustered, her cheeks flushed and her eyes narrowed. “You
had to invite him, didn’t you, toad?”

Cain turned. “Speak to
your sister-in-law. Destiny did the inviting.”

Gracie stomped off and
Dane stepped in. “Trouble with the ladies?” Cain asked.

Dane looked at Christian
and scowled. “No one told me you were going to be here.”

Christian’s brows rose.
“I could say the same for your presence. I assumed it would just be the
Hartzlers.”

Cain smacked a hand down
on Dane’s back. The boy flinched. “Aw, Dane’s like family, aren’t you, Dane?”

“Depends who you ask,”
Dane grumbled.

Cain squeezed his
shoulder and he winced. “Well, we’ll just leave Gracie out of it. She’s only
the runt of the litter anyway.”

It was complete mayhem.
Everyone talked over everyone. The young child was using his shoe as a boat
ramp. That kind of vessel did not sail that way either, but Christian assumed
the child would not appreciate having that pointed out to him. The females
cackled loudly in the kitchen and there was music coming from somewhere in the
house. They were having dinner with a group of heathens.

* * * *

“So how’s it going with
you and Christian?” Anna asked Delilah as she nibbled on the crust of the
freshly baked pie Gracie arrived with. Gracie appeared out of nowhere and
slapped her fingers away.

“The pie is for dessert
and no one wants it after your fingers have been all over it,” Gracie snapped.

Anna frowned and went
back to picking at the crust.

“It’s getting better,”
Delilah admitted truthfully. Today had been wonderful. After that morning in
the kitchen they’d bathed together and Christian had taken her to the barn.

There was a baby calf
with fawn coloring and a white face that was absolutely adorable. Christian
didn’t name his animals, but by the time they left the barn every creature had
a name. The fawn colored calf now went by Marmaduke, which Christian said was a
silly name for a cow to have. When she asked what he would have named it he
simply said, Robert. He was funny and most the time he didn’t even realize it.

“Can I see your tattoo?”
Anna asked, motioning toward the stars on her wrist.

“Which one? I have a
bunch.”

“You do?”

Gracie came closer and
waited expectantly. Delilah looked toward the door of the kitchen and shrugged.
Why not? She hoisted up her skirts and showed off her legs.

“Wow, those butterflies
look real,” Gracie said admirably.

Anna noticed the Geisha
faces on the back of each calf. “These are really beautiful. How long have you
been getting them done?”

“I got my first one when
I was sixteen. I did it myself, but it’s fading.” Or had faded. Li casually
glanced at her finger where her ladybug had been. She wasn’t sure when it
completely disappeared, but it was gone as of this afternoon. It concerned her
and she worried about how her body was changing. So far all of her other
tattoos looked okay.

“Who does them for you?”

“I do most of the work
myself. The places I can’t reach I have a friend do, but all the art work is
mine. I just did this ducky the other day.”

The door to the kitchen
pressed open. “Destiny—”

Dane stilled. Delilah
dropped her skirt. It wasn’t like she was indecently exposing herself, but they
were on an Amish farm. The girls all stepped back from where they were admiring
her legs.

“What do you want,
Dane?” Gracie snapped. “We were talking.”

He shook his head and
backed out of the kitchen. Great, probably to go tattle to Christian about her
flashing her hoo-hoo.

“Ignore him,” Gracie
said. “So, you’re an artist?”

“Uh, I draw tattoos…”

“Well that’s art,” Anna
added with a smile.

Destiny came over from
the stove. Whatever she was making smelled delicious. Delilah just hoped she
could eat it. She’d hate to be the difficult vegetarian.

“Adam has some paints
and stuff in the barn. Maybe he could let you borrow some and you could do some
portraits,” Anna said.

“I don’t really do
people,” she said a little overwhelmed by all the attention.

“I’d love for you to
help me paint Lucy’s nursery. Sometimes I think I’ll go insane if I have to
look at one more mint green wall.”

“Um, I could do that, I
guess.”

“Ooh, will you paint
something on our bedroom wall? Cain would love that.”

They all began to talk
at once and Delilah found herself agreeing to anything and everything they
asked. Christian would just have to deal with it. If she was expected to stay
here she was going to need to find something to do besides wait on him.

Wait! What?

“Oh, that reminds me,”
Anna said. “When’s Vito making his next trip out to the farm? I have a list for
him.”

“He’s supposed to come
out sometime next week,” Destiny said. “Vito’s my brother. He comes out every
couple of weeks and smuggles goods to us. If there’s anything you need that you
can’t get here, he can usually get it for you.”

“What kind of goods?”

“Music, batteries,
books, store brand junk food, clothes, lingerie, underwear—”

“Your brother buys you
lingerie?” That seemed a little odd.

“No, he works at a strip
club. He usually just passes a list to one of the girls and they bag it up for
him.”

“Oh. Are you guys
allowed to do that? Can’t you get in trouble?”

Gracie giggled. “With
the bishop’s penchant for slutty panties, he sort of lets it slide.”

“The bishop wears
women’s panties?”

The girls burst out
laughing. “Oh, God no! They’re for Larissa!” Anna gasped.

Lucy woke up from all
the noise and began to cry.

“Do you want to help me
set the table?” Destiny asked.

Delilah followed her
into the dining room with a stack of plates. The men were sitting in the den
talking quietly. Christian’s gaze immediately found hers. Poor guy. He looked
completely out of his element. She wondered if he was a bit agoraphobic.

“I’ll be right back. I
forgot the napkins,” Destiny said and disappeared back into the kitchen.

Delilah began setting
out the plates.

“May I help you?”

She jumped and turned
only to find Christian right behind her. “I’ve got it. Why don’t you go play
with the other boys?”

“I’m two hundred and
seventy-six years old, Delilah. I do not
play.
”

“Well, talk, whatever.
Go be a good guest.”

“I have nothing to say
to them.”

“Well, try, Christian.”
She put down the last plate and began setting out the silverware.

“How long until dinner
is ready?” he asked anxiously.

She frowned and turned
to face him. “What’s going on? Are you not having fun?”

“Are you?”

“Yes.”

He looked down.

She stepped close and
whispered, “Hey, do you want to leave?”

Shaking his head he
said, “No, not if you are enjoying yourself.”

Something inside of her
tightened. This was for her. Christian truly did not enjoy being around others.
It never occurred to her how shy he truly was. She thought about him living on
the far end of the farm, completely secluded from the others.

What had he done before
she arrived? Sat in the house all alone day after day when he wasn’t working
the fields? She was sad for him. He may have been almost three hundred years
old, but he had no friends. How had he made it this long?

“I’ll tell you what,”
she leaned close and whispered. His hands automatically wrapped around her hips
and squeezed her tight. They’d been showing more affection of late and a slutty
part of her primed every time he touched her. It didn’t matter how wrong their
situation was. Something inside of her craved his touch.