Crave (7 page)

She made a little noise of pleasure, a tiny murmur that died as she took him into her mouth. The wet slide of her tongue down the underside of his erection and the slight scrape of her teeth along the top, sent a shiver of tingles tripping through him. He grunted again, aware that he was starting to sound like some sort of animal but unable to muster enough care to stop.

She made him into an animal.

Each warm slide of her mouth down his cock, each brush of the back of her throat over the sensitive head, each press of her tongue against the underside as she rose off him, and each torturous swirl around the blunt head had his moans turning into snarls and his snarls becoming growls. His balls tightened and she chose that moment to cup them in her palm and roll them, increasing the tension at the base of his cock. She moaned and the sound of it joining his constant snarls and growls of bliss, the thought that she took  pleasure from doing this to him, from making him feel so good that he was burning up inside, couldn’t stop himself from thrusting shallowly into her mouth as he sought his orgasm, only turned him on even more.

She squeezed his balls, stroked the area just below them, and then rubbed it as she sucked him harder.

Callum’s climax came upon him like a tidal wave, obliterating all conscious thought and leaving him with only intense feelings. He pressed his hips up, thrusting his cock into her mouth, and cried her name as he came. Fire blazed through his veins and limbs, sending them quaking, stealing his breath and almost stopping his heart. He screwed his face up, trembling all over, struggling to catch his breath as she licked and sucked him, her breathy little moans adding to the ecstasy carrying him away.

He couldn’t move.

His muscles were slack and weak, bones limp and useless. He lay on the bed beneath her, eyes closed, heart beating erratically, breathless.

Christ, if he hadn’t wanted to let her go before, he really didn’t want to let her go now. He had never experienced something so intense and mind-blowing, not in all his five hundred plus years.

“Good?” she said with an obvious giggle in her voice. She was teasing him. She knew it was good, was well aware of the fact she had reduced him to a quivering mess.

She crawled up the length of him and after several seconds he managed to get his heavy eyelids up and looked into her eyes.

“You’re smiling like a crazy person.” She giggled again, her hazel eyes full of light and warmth.

She was beautiful, so full of life and so intoxicating. She sparkled with it, bright and blinding, completely different to how she had been around other men. There had always been wariness in her eyes then. It had even been there when she had been with him at the club.

It was gone now.

Was this sudden change in her because she felt safe with him? Had she been scared the whole time she had been out in the world? He wanted to make her feel this way all the time. He wanted to ride in on a white steed and play her knight in shining armour so she would never be scared again. His chest heated, heart steadying as he realised and admitted that the knot that he had felt in it before was more than fleeting.

He really was falling for her.

He lifted his arm, brushed his knuckles across her cheek and then opened his hand and cupped her face, resting his fingertips close to her ear. Her look changed instantly, a cautious edge entering her eyes, stealing some of the light from their hazel depths.

Callum wanted to tell her to stop running away from him whenever he tried to show her the slightest emotion beyond simple lust and desire, but he knew that it would only make her bolt.

She trembled beneath his touch and he could feel the fear rising in her again.

Would she run if he told her that she didn’t need to fear him and that he wouldn’t hurt her?

Of course she would.

She wasn’t ready to hear such things from him.

“I think you broke me,” he whispered and her smile returned, the hint of fear in her scent fading.

He lowered his hand from her face, caught her right wrist, and brought it away from his chest. He frowned at the scratches across it.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He glanced up at her to find her staring at her wrist, her eyes round and distant. She didn’t tense or pull away when he inhaled slowly to catch the scent of her blood. It was still intoxicating, the undertones of sweetness and spice sparking hunger inside him. He was sure she would taste like nothing he had ever experienced before. He had smelt werewolf blood in the past and it hadn’t been like hers. It had been flat and dull, as uninteresting as most vampires’ blood. What made hers so different?

Kristina stilled when he drew her hand towards him and reached out with his tongue, his eyes half closing as he came close to touching the scratches. She withdrew her hand and clucked her tongue.

“No bloodplay.” She tortured him by licking her own wrist, stealing what he had wanted to be his, and sat up astride him. Her fingers glided up his stomach to his chest and then down his arms to his wrists. She took hold of his hands and raised them, placing them on her hips and sliding them up to her breasts. “You’re not shaking anymore.”

He focused on his body and noted that she was right. He had stopped trembling the moment she had sat back on him, nestling his soft cock against her groin. The feel of her heat on him, their bodies separated by only her underwear, had pushed him through the haze of one orgasm into the search for his next.

She smiled when his penis twitched, stirring at the thought of being inside her this time.

“You vampires certainly do have the stamina everyone says you do,” she said and he frowned at her.

When had she closed herself off again? She spoke about him as though they were strangers fucking for fun and he was just a vampire and she just a werewolf. They weren’t Callum and Kristina. Had she seen in his eyes what he had wanted to say, that he had moved past this being about nothing more than satisfying urges and cravings, and this was her reaction to it?

She hesitated, crimson turning her cheeks rosy, and toyed with his nipples, staring at them. She obviously had acute senses because she had picked up on the barest threads of his emotions and right now she was feeling his anger.

“Kristina,” he said, unwilling to let her pretend that this meant nothing. He would force her to use his name if he had to. He wouldn’t stop using hers. He could be cruel too, could call her werewolf or female, could place that barrier between them. How would she like that? Would it hurt her as much as her doing the same hurt him?

He pulled her down to him and kissed her, deliberately slowly, forcing her to acknowledge that this could be something more than just a moment of madness if she wanted it to be and could accept him in her life. She struggled at first, trying to roughen the kiss and turn it passionate. He didn’t let her. Her version of passion wasn’t what he wanted this to be about. He wanted it to be about passion that meant something, that came from the heart and soul, not the sex glands.

Kristina relaxed into him, her kisses slowing to match his, her lips a bare caress that left his tingling and lightened his insides. He wrapped his arms around her, unwilling to let her go before he was done with her, holding her gently to instil a sense of safety inside her again. He wanted the Kristina who had looked at him so softly with bright warm eyes back.

“Callum,” she whispered against his mouth, a note of desire in her tone, and swept her tongue over his lower lip, igniting sparks that exploded over his skin and down his spine. He groaned and tried to kiss her but she held herself out of his reach, teasing him with soft licks over his lips that cranked him tighter with each one. “I want you.”

Callum raised his hips into hers, pushing his hardening cock against her groin to show her that he wanted her too. She wasn’t alone in this. If she would only accept that, he was sure that she would feel less on edge about what they were doing and would realise that he wasn’t out to hurt her.

Hell. At this rate, it would end with him being the one hurt by her.

Since leaving her last night, he had told himself close to a thousand times not to go down this route and to just let things happen and see where it took them. He had warned himself not to get attached or read into things. It was impossible after all. He could warn himself all he wanted, could point out the dangers of becoming emotionally attached to a werewolf, but none of it was stopping him from wanting more from her.

He groaned low in his throat as she rose to her feet, standing with her boots on either side of his hips, and wriggled her black knickers down her thighs. She lifted each foot off the bed in turn, pulling her knickers over them, and then tossed them down at him. Callum gathered them into his fist and held her gaze as he brought them to his nose and inhaled the scent of her arousal. His cock leapt, growing harder at the thought that he made her wet and hungry. She wanted him.

Kristina lowered herself again, her bare thighs warm against his sides, and then shuffled backwards, seating herself over his knees. She grabbed her mac and rifled in the pockets, and pulled out a strip of condoms. She had come prepared this time. He was still fairly certain that he couldn’t impregnate her but he held his tongue, letting her have her way. Anything to get back inside her.

She pulled his trousers and boxers down to his knees, tore open the packet, and rolled the condom down onto his cock. It pulsed as he stared down at her skirt and then took in her outfit again, realising that she intended to have sex with him while still wearing it. He wasn’t going to complain. She looked incredibly sexy in the tight corset and short skirt, and he liked the thought of her remaining in it a while longer and riding him. It added a naughty edge to everything. He had never been into the whole dressing up thing, but the thought of her in a dirty maid’s outfit or dressed as a dominatrix took on a certain appeal as she moved up his body.

Kristina rose off him, wrapped her hot little hand around his cock, and nudged the tip of him inside her liquid heat. He watched her face, mesmerised by the visible pleasure she took from the feel of his cock sliding slowly into her tight sheath and the breathless moan that accompanied it from the moment he entered her to the point where he was fully inside.

She settled on him, her body tightly gloving him and encasing him in fiery heat. He almost begged her not to move, to stay right there and let him just feel what it was like to be inside her, joined as one with such a beautiful woman.

Her hands pressed into his stomach and then skimmed up to his ribs and chest, her eyes locked on his, her body clenching him but unmoving, as though she had felt his desire and was letting him have his way. She brushed her fingers down his arms, caught his hands and pressed her palms to his.

Callum interlinked their fingers and held her hands as she started to move on him, slow long thrusts that soon had her closing her eyes and tipping her head back. He stared at her, entranced, watching the pleasure rippling across her face as she flickered between frowning and sighing. The soft black material of her skirt caressed his lower stomach and thighs. The scent of her desire filled the room, joining with his, swirling together into one tantalising fragrance. Her thrusts slowly built in speed, turning harder but still remaining more gentle than he had thought she would be. The pace of her movements on him matched his pace during their second time last night. Too slow to be lust.

Too slow not to mean something.

She gasped, her hands squeezing his, and rode him. The exquisite feel of her hot sheath encasing him, pulling at him, clenching him, and the warm trickle of her juices down his cock, all of it was blissful and arousing, but it was the pleasure on her face, her slow tempo, and the way she opened her eyes and locked them on his, revealing a myriad of feelings in their hazel orbs that went beyond mere desire, that left him breathless again. It was the most erotic thing he had ever seen.

Chains, whips, naughty outfits, none of it could hold a candle to how the slow shift of her body against his and the emotions warming her eyes made him feel. It felt so intimate. He felt so connected to her, not just physically through the point where his body entered hers, but emotionally through their eyes.

Callum stared into hers, lost and mesmerised, feeling them sweep him away and seeing that sensation mirrored in her. She barely blinked as she looked deep into his eyes and he into hers, their bodies moving as one, hers sliding sensually up and down his cock. Her heart beat steadily in his mind, his coming to match it, so they joined too. Her lips parted and so did his, the feelings flooding him making him feel as though he was drowning and gasping for air. The room faded, leaving only her on his senses—her pulse, her soft puffs, her little moans of pleasure that he echoed, her sweet scent filling his mind as his body filled hers.

Kristina.

He felt as though he was falling, the world dropping away beneath him, plunging deep into unfamiliar territory. It scared him but her grip on him soothed away the fear and the soft warmth in her eyes anchored him to her, until he felt as though they were falling together.

Did she feel it too?

Her eyelids fell to half mast and she gasped. “Callum.”

Her fingers pressed into the back of his hands and she jerked against him, her body quaking around his as her thrusts faltered. He took over, driving his cock into her as she started to lean into his hands, her hot breath skating over his stomach and chest. She moaned with each deep plunge of his cock and the feel of her body clenching and releasing him, the hot rush of her orgasm, pushed him over the edge with her.

“Kristina,” he breathed and bucked his hips up hard, burying himself deep into her body as he came. The fierce wave that rushed through him sent his head spinning.

He was vaguely aware of her lips on his wrist, the warm press of her tongue, and then fire that exploded through him. A second orgasm rocked him to the core and the world went dark.

“Callum... Cal... lum... Cal... can you hear me?”

He frowned and knocked aside the annoying object tapping his cheek like a bloody woodpecker on acid. It didn’t go away. If anything, it became more frantic.