Captiva Craving - Vampire Werewolf Menage (Six Feet Under Series Book Two) (21 page)

“Okay, okay…Give me some consideration now, and I will tell you more,” Adam offered. “The bits of spying, the fragments I memorized will help. Your brother was nothing compared to Poison. And if we all don’t learn to work together, nothing else can stop him.”

“Oh, peachy,” Sixten snarled, “society is falling down in all its glorious bullshit and my wife is out there.”

“Six.”

“Qudir?”

“That female came through.” He’d been studying his phone, sending out texts, working online maps. “His highness is landing just under Fort Pierce.” His eyes flipped up, and Sixten knew he was holding some serious intel back.

“And!”

“He’s residing over Marchii Gianni’s mating ceremony. They’re cousins.”

“And,” his voice dropped to a broken whisper.

“It’s Blythe.” Qudir glanced at Kash and then back to Sixten. “Hell, Six, the prince of our race is officially mating her to the Marchii.”

“The Donors weren’t rogue after all, no blood slavery for her,” Kash whispered. “They went covert without alerting us. Her Dynasty Vampyr had her specifically hunted.”

Now, a determined Sixten had a location. “Fort Pierce? No problem, I will kill all who surround this Marchii before Prince Volos’s plane arrives. It hasn’t landed yet, has it?”

“Three hours from now.” Qudir kept his eyes trained on Sixten, waiting for him to go crazy. “That’s all the information she could give us.”

“I’ll lock the Marchii up in one of the abandoned Habaline cells where Blythe can feed from him. He’ll become my personal pet, one I might forget to feed on occasions.”

“Let’s go.” Kash breezed by him.

“No one here can attack any royal member without dying and that’s after suffering years of torture,” Sixten explained what they all knew. “I’m the only vampire on this extraction, Kash.”

“By yourself?” Kash spun, his eyes firing violet. “Not only will you die. You’ll probably get her killed on your stupidass, one-man mission!” He kicked the wall, leaving an ugly dent. “Fuck you and your fucking arrogance!”

“Qudir,” Sixten spoke calmly, “I need your phone. There’s a number you have that I don’t.” He handed it over and Sixten punched the one he needed. After a single ring, a voice answered that he always found abhorrent. “I know where she is and I’m asking for your help.”

“
Look at the water, Blythe,” Sixten whispered against the palm of her hand, keeping it there with strong fingertips. “See how the silver skates on the ripples as though an ice storm hit the tropics?” His eyes dropped down to a jade green smolder. “I want to see your flesh under this moonlight, angel.”

She found no strength to refuse him, except. “My brother will catch me.” He was her guardian after her parents had died.

“If I promised you he would never find out, would you come?” He moved his lips to her wrist, circling the tender flesh with his tongue. “The last thing that I want is for anyone to find us. So trust me, now. Okay?”

She wore a nightshirt over her bra and panties. “I need to put something on.”

“I don’t think so.” And in a whirling motion, she flew through her bedroom window. The night air ruffled her hair like flailing dark ribbons. “Did you know Peter Pan was my favorite novel when I was a child?”

“Funny,” he whispered when the sand met her feet. “I always felt like a lost boy.”

“You feel lost?” She pushed his hair from his eyes, marveling at how the moonbeams streaked his platinum strands as they walked up the shore.

“Sometime before I met you,” he answered soundly, trailing her through the ocean’s edge still warmed by the previous day. “And you have no idea what that means to a man, such as myself.” He turned, cupping her face in his hands, bringing the length of her body against his own. “I have my very own Wendy to kiss, and we’re not talking thimbles.”

“Oh, Sixten,” she said on a breathless sigh. He was too much, over the top gorgeous. Where did she fit in with him? Still a teen, she stayed gangly and awkward. But he just stood, gazing down at her, almost in an inhuman way. With his sudden hesitation, she grew wary. “What is it?”

“I was wondering,” he answered slowly, “if I could keep away from you.” Instead, his hands tightened, his thumb stroking her bottom lip. “You deserve to be happy.”

Tears fell, their salt stinging her lips. Now, she looked the part – a baby that should not be out with a man. “I was happy, until you said that.” He wrapped a big hand around her head, pressing her face against his warm chest.

“I don’t like it when you cry.”

“I know,” she sobbed, clutching him to her. Blythe nearly groaned as she breathed in his intoxicating scent. “A crybaby isn’t very appealing or mature.”

“What I’m holding in my arms,” he said rather strained, “is not a baby. And only a woman could do this to me.” He took her hand in his, cupping it over his hardness. On her gasp, he asked, “So it is true, then.” A long pause. “Just as I suspected, you are untouched.”

In so many ways, he sounded old-fashioned, far older than his actual years. “I’m not a prude,” she giggled over her next sob, her mind going left and right. He did this to her, the man holding her close. Sixten made her feel things she never wanted to lose. “I haven’t found. Well,” she stumbled on her words, “up until I met you, no one else appealed, uh, to that part of me.”

Long, glossy strands touched his lips, him lifting her hair to his face. “God sent you to me, and that’s why I’ll always think of you as my angel. Before you, I existed. Now, I live. Now, I…” He buried his face in her hair, taking deep breaths along with her.

“Now you what, Sixten?”

He pulled away again, staring down at her with a truly tortured expression. He gestured to a woolen blanked anchored onto the sand, nestled in an alcove of palm trees. In the far corner, she found a basket with wine, tidbits, and Italian chocolates.

“You did this?” When he shook his head, she laughed, wiping at her tear-streaked face. “Hopeful?”

“I don’t believe in hope, but I am certainly prepared to receive what I don’t deserve.” He glanced from her to the blanket. “Shall we?”

More tears fell. “It’s…thank you.” Hand and hand they neared his special picnic. He eased her down, pressing his delicious weight atop her, a heavy presence but not too overpowering. She blinked up through long lashes thickened with tears. “How can you look at me that way?”

“What way, moja láska?”

“Like you see into my soul,” Blythe answered, trembling.

He tilted his head and asked a question of his own, “What sweet angel lies beneath me?” His tongue slowly licked her bottom lip, moving back and forth. “What sweet angel with open for me?”

She hugged him, delivering an open mouth kiss where she sucked on his tongue. Sixten laughed against her mouth, his chest vibrating against hers. His shirt dampened with his scent. “Again, I ask,” he whispered. “What sweet angel will open for me?”

“Oh.”

“Oh?” More heated kisses and then his tongue stroked a line down her throat. “Is there some type of confusion?”

“That?” Tonight? He meant tonight!

“Romantic, nighttime picnic on the beach, you lying underneath me,” he breathed against her throat. She could feel his erection straining as he gently thrust his pelvis against hers. Tight hips worked between her thighs, his hardened length against her thin panties. And although she feared the unknown, she wanted him deeper. “Blythe, is there any question in your mind as to what I want?”

Just to prove his point, he pulled her oversized t-shirt over her head, groaning at the vision before him. She flushed at his blatant inspection, his eyes moving quickly over her skin – almost too quickly. “Not really, I’m just…new to this.” Something she decided to remind him of incase he expected any fancy moves on her part. She didn’t know any.

“Don’t tell me you want a ring first,” he teased her, trying to lighten the mood as he eased her bra strap over her shoulder. Teeth followed his fingers, scraping against her flesh, a sensation she never experienced.

Head going back and forth again, she complained, “I’m dizzy, and I can’t think when you do this to me. And, well, I thought we were…going to eat.” She eyed the basket, hoping to get her wits while snacking on chocolate… or maybe a glass of wine she was not supposed to drink at her age. But Sixten always gave her a glass or two, and with each sip she would become braver. Or more relaxed.

“We are, and I’ll teach you to eat,” he promised on another nip, this one stronger than the last. “The food will come later when we’re no more than famished.”

“Six,” she moaned, pushing her hands against his chest. “I think I love you more than you love me.”

Sixten stopped, looking at her as though she would never be the same. Something told her that she wouldn’t. “If I promised to love you for the rest of my life, angel, would you trust me?”

“I guess…I already trust you.”

His hands were everywhere, pushing, pulling, and stroking. She had masturbated for years, brought herself to the verge many times. However, the way he cupped her sex, pushing the heel of his hand down against her sensitive flesh. Blythe realized she’d been doing it all wrong. She moaned aloud, thrashing, biting her lower lip.

A dizzying static claimed her body. Short electrical currents zapped her as she took off somewhere. In the distance, wherever she was, Sixten was crooning, talking her through it. Pushing her hair back tenderly, he stared into her eyes. Another pressure valve released – this one far stronger than the first. Clenching, grasping, releasing, clenching, grasping, releasing, she felt her eyes open wider. This was what an orgasm felt like. They met eyes, saying nothing. She could not identify his smile, maybe one honed from supreme confidence or simple satisfaction.

Sixten clearly knew her body better than she did. And as she came down, Blythe tried not to think too hard about what that meant, his experience compared to hers. He pulled her panties down her legs, never taking his eyes off her dark curls, and she forgot about her inadequacies.

No man would stare at her in that way, unless he though she was perfect.

Somehow, her body refused to believe she was done, wanting more. Strange tingling spasms taking over every cell made her desperate. “God, Six, end this torture.”

“No ends,” he said gently, positioning his body over hers again, digging his knuckles into her pudgy stomach as he unzipped his pants, “only beginnings.”

Although her body was desperate for his, she admitted, “I’m a little scared.”

“I know.” A salty breeze flittered across her nipples before she realized her bra laid somewhere near her head. “You can stop me if you need to, angel, but know this.”

“What?” Her brows reached her hairline. A foreboding warning, now?

As his body slid down hers, open mouth kisses dampened her flesh. Next, he kissed her curls, prodding her thighs apart with his face. “Once you give yourself to me, this part of you that is so very precious becomes mine.” He inhaled over her core. “I will have no other choice but to keep you, Blythe.”

Nervous laughter left her, but a carefully placed kiss stopped it dead in its tracks. “You have to keep me, huh.” A spell was cast, and she was on the receiving end.

“You’ll never be the same.” He looked up between her thighs, tracing her labia with a gentle fingertip. “It’s a serious commitment on your part, as well as mine. One neither of us can ever take back.”

What a mood breaker! “I know you’ll pop my cherry and I’ll never be the same. I’m eighteen for fuck’s sake!” She clenched her eyes, frustration refueling her tears. “Get it over with, moon’s slipping away and my brother’s gonna catch me.”

“Open your eyes,” he demanded throatily. A stare-down ensued. Bravely, she brought her hips up, pressing her pussy under his nose. A growl left his chest as he inhaled, a frightening sound only heard during full moons on Sanibel Island. He shook his head, cupped her ass and lifted her. An intimate kiss followed, one she had never had, one that told her everything he was going to do to her in vivid detail.

She grabbed his golden hair, twisting the strands as he wrapped his lips around her clitoris. “Any man,” he said between slow licks, “would be proud to keep you.”

“But,” she rasped, when his tongue slid inside her with long calculated thrusts, mimicking the sex act. “I don’t want any man, Six.” His fingers dipped inside as his mouth went back to her clit. Her ass stayed perched in one of his large hands as if she were weightless.

She watched as his blond head moved over her sex, his shoulders bunching and releasing. “You’re so plump and beautiful here, Blythe. Your flesh is the perfect shade,” he groaned, “the perfect feel.”

He was magnificent, and she was desperate for everything. Even things she knew nothing about. Once again, the pressure was mounting, an undeniable force she understood as sexual need. “Now! I want it now!”

He prowled up her, slanting his mouth over hers, fogging her mind with the musky taste of her sex on his lips. Sixten’s other hand joined the first, sliding under her hips. Before she registered the sensation, one penetrating thrust brought him inside. She dug her nails in his nape, gasping in pain. “Not what I expected at all.”

Experienced hands left her hips, sliding up and down her back. “You are better than I expected,” he whispered as he kissed her temple with tenderness. “I want this forever.”

She swallowed roughly, panting. “Right between my legs, it burns like hell’s firestorm.” She shook her head no. “You’ve got to take it out.”

“Kicking me out so soon?” But he stayed right where he was.

Her thighs started trembling, so he ran one of his arms under her right knee, taking its weight. “You’re body’s new to this position.” And with a slow wink, he gave her the raunchiest look imaginable and brought his thumb and forefinger to her swollen clit. She yelped when he proceeded to pinch her. And as she wiggled, he slid home.