Nectar: DD Prince (9 page)

She heard the lock turn with a thunk, as if it had been unlocked from the other side, and then he opened it. “Is Joe in there?” he demanded.

She didn’t get a chance to answer. The blood was rushing to her head and she tried to balance upward, desperately wanting to cover her exposed behind.  He didn’t stop at that door but strode down the long hall to the double doors. He pushed one open and walked in. This was a different bedroom. He dropped her less than gingerly onto a big bed. This room was a lot like the other one but this one was even bigger and not as sparsely furnished.

“Don’t move. Understand?” he pointed at her.

She pulled the shirt down as much as she could.

His eyes blazed with fury. Iciness ran through her veins. “So help me…” he grumbled, leaving the room, slamming the door. She sat, dumbfounded, numb. A second later she heard a big commotion of yelling and things crashing.

Before she had a chance to react, to run for the door to get away from him, or even to think about what to do next, the doors flew open. He was back, on his knees on the floor in front of her, his hands on her knees, his eyes searching her face, “He didn’t touch you? Didn’t feed from you?” he asked, his expression soft but his eyes piercing her in a way that was painful.

She furrowed her brows and shook her head, dumbfounded at his actions.

“Kyla, tell me,” he demanded, his grip on her knees tightening.

“No. I, I hit him over the head with the vase. A thorn pricked my finger… I---” she stopped talking. He exhaled, understanding, and rested his head in her lap. She was startled by the intimacy of the move.  He circled her waist with his arms, making her wince. His eyes were closed. He let out a heavy sigh, of relief or something. She’d lifted her arms up in the air and just sat, frozen, tense, trying to absorb everything. He reached for her hand and then sucked on her pricked finger for a second and then let out another sigh.

She frowned and her free hand landed on her forehead.
What the?

He looked up at her face. She swallowed hard, then started to shake her head vigorously and pushed down on his shoulders, trying to get him off, “Listen, man…”

“Shh,” he said, “Don’t fight with me right now. Just let me hold you. Please? Just for a minute.” He gripped tighter around her waist.

Obviously he was accustomed to women melting into a trance when he stared into their eyes or told them to do something. She was damn close to doing the same irrational thing even if what he said was true and she wasn’t entranced by him. His behaviour was so, so…disarming. He climbed up onto the bed and lay down beside her, pulling her to lie down.  He pulled her close to him and closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. She could feel his heart thumping against her chest and it was racing. Now hers was racing.

Kyla tried to pull the shirt down as it was once again riding up and showing everything she had from the waist down.

“I refuse to lay here and cuddle with you, Trist..you…” She wasn’t about to say his name again now, “Let go of me.” She pushed at his shoulders.

“Shh, just let me…” he stroked her back and feathered kisses on her forehead, her nose, her eyelids, her cheeks.

She was exasperated but was too dumbstruck to do anything about it. Finally, she asked, “Would it be too much to ask you to get me something to wear, please?”

He chuckled and flashed dimples. Dimples? Where did those come from? She hadn’t seen those before.

Shit. Dimples, blue eyes, tall, dark, and movie-star beautiful?
The man was almost
totally constructed out of kryptonite. Almost. The fangs?  Yeah, not so much…

“Why’d you stop yourself from saying my name?” Mischief rang in his voice. He nuzzled into her bare throat on the opposite side of where the bandage was.

“Pff.”

“Say it and I’ll give you something to wear.”

“Eff you. We know what’ll happen if I say it.”

“It’s gonna happen anyway,” he teased in a husky voice, running his nose up and down her throat and then kissing behind her earlobe, then sucking her lobe into his mouth.

Then abruptly he sat up and pulled the blanket out from under her quickly, like that trick where the magician pulls the tablecloth out without disturbing the place settings. Then he lay back down and covered her and got underneath with her, “I have a better idea. We
both
get naked.” He raised his eyebrows, reached over and yanked the front of the shirt and several buttons popped off. He flicked it up, over her head and then it slid off her arms, leaving her totally naked again.

She hugged herself and squeezed her eyes tight, beyond exasperated. He pulled her close and closed his eyes. She tried to pull away but he said, “Don’t; please. I just need to hold you for a minute.” She was shaking; her head was beginning to throb.

He let go, pulled his t-shirt off, and arched his back to slide his jeans down his hips and then kicked them off. An ache bloomed, deep in her belly, something that felt like longing. He pulled her to his warm chest and nuzzled her neck. She winced. He held her tight and rubbed her back, “Stop shaking. It’s okay, I won’t hurt you. I won’t let anyone hurt you."

“Lie,” she whispered. He smelled like apple pie.

He blinked a few times at her and caressed her cheek.

“You’ve already hurt me.”

“I know. I’m sorry about that,” he whispered.

She shook her head.

“I am,” Tristan whispered against her lips.

“Then let me go.”

“Can’t,” He mouthed this right against her lips.

“Can’t? You mean won’t.”

“I mean can’t.”

“But, I won’t tell anyone,” she whimpered.

He didn’t reply. He kissed her.

“And you’re wrong, I think you must have me in a trance. Just tell me to forget and I bet you I will.” She tried to back up. His lips touched hers again.

“I don’t want you to forget,” he whispered, “And no. You’re not. I promise. If you were, you’d never have tried to run from me or hit one of my guys. And you wouldn’t look at me the way you do. And you’d never have called out my name like that while I fucked you.” His voice was even huskier now, “You wouldn’t get wet for me, even.”

She tried to ignore the feelings that stirred in her, “If I was in my right mind I’d never have stopped fighting, I’d fight to the death. And if you won’t let me go then what’s gonna happen to me?

“We’ll have to wait and see.”

“Wait for what? For you to get bored with me then kill me?”

“That’s not likely,” he whispered, “I’ve never had this. Never had anyone like you in my bed.”

He gently tugged at the bandage and pulled it off her neck and nuzzled the bare skin. She winced; it still hurt. His breathing steadied and he was almost instantly asleep, his arms held her and his nose was buried into the crook of her neck, his lips touching that sore spot. His lips were like a tonic on it, though, and it started to actually feel better.

Was it part of his plan, to keep working to mesmerize her into a trance so that she’d just let him do whatever he wanted? Was it beginning to work? She was like a walking contradiction struggling with the fact that despite how her head felt her body was relaxed and now that his mouth was against her throat, it didn’t hurt.

She leaned back to look at him and the pain returned. He nuzzled in again and the pain stopped.

She fell asleep for a while and when she woke up, her head was on his chest and her hand fanned out across his shoulder. Her throat no longer hurt. He continued to sleep soundly, both arms around her. She looked up at his face.

What an enigma he was. Monster one minute, affectionate puppy dog the next.   She blew her hair out of her eyes and picked up a shirt button from the bed and fiddled with it. He stirred and pulled her closer, if that was even possible.

If he wasn’t going to let her leave and wasn’t going to kill her, what would she be? A human blood bank? Sex slave? An all
he
could drink and fuck buffet?

Shit. Fucking karma.

He looked like he could be a Calvin Klein underwear model or a movie star or a rock star or a Greek God. Kyla was 5 foot 6 and he towered over her; he had to be 6’2- 6’3”. It was so cozy right now in his embrace and she shouldn’t be feeling this way. She should be plotting her escape while he slept, not gushing over his looks, looks that were undoubtedly designed to be disarming and seductive. She needed to formulate a plan…now, while he slept, before he tried to drain her dry again. She tried to inch away. He tightened his grip, “Uh, uh, uh…”

Dimples. Shit.

She choked back a sob, suddenly overcome with the memory of how awful it was earlier when his eyes had gone black and that horrible feeling that had spread through her veins like wildfire.

He looked at her with remorse, “I’m sorry. Just be here with me. Can you just let me…” he rubbed her shoulders.

She cut him off but really didn’t know where to start. “I have to think. I just can’t seem to think straight.” She grabbed her temples with her fingertips and the button fell.

“Same here,” he whispered, “I think
I
know what’s happening here; you’ve cast some sort of spell on me.”

She shook her head, “That doesn’t even make sense.”

He started feathering kisses all over her face again.

“Stop that,” she pointed at him.  He gave her a boyish smile and there were those dimples again.

“You say that I’m not in a trance but the things I’ve let you…” she stopped.

“You
are
lucid.”

“You keep using your super sex hypnosis and those thousand calorie kisses. I’m not an all-you-can-drink-and-fuck buffet, okay?”

He started to chuckle and caressed her cheek, “My kinda buffet! Super sex hypnosis? I have never heard of such a power. And what kind of kisses?”

“Just let me leave,” she pleaded.

Tristan shook his head, “Not that simple.” He leaned over, looking like he’d been swept away by his thoughts. He absently brushed a button off the bed.

“Why? You’re afraid I’m going to reveal what you are? I told you I won’t. What can I do to convince you?”

“There’s something about you. I need to figure it out,” he flicked another button.

“What do you mean? Because I can’t be put in a trance?”

“Yeah. And not just that. Something in your blood. It’s different. It’s…”

She waited for him to finish.

“And what you do to me…” he nuzzled under her chin and licked the base of her throat.

Kyla tried to back up, digging her heels into the mattress, but he had a firm hold of her.

“What do I do to you? Turn you into a vicious animal?”

He sighed. “Don’t, baby. Don’t fight this time.  You want me; I feel it.” He climbed on top of her and parted her legs with his knee.

Not again.

“No, no, Tristan. Please.” He groaned.
Shit. I said his name!
“I don’t want you. I don’t. I need to talk this through, make you understand that you need to let me go. Go find some other girl who will submit for you.”

He made a primal growling sound and covered her mouth with his and parted her lips with his tongue, deeply kissing her, then said, “I don’t want that. I want this. You. Now. Right now. Feel that? You can feel it, can’t you?”

“Feel what? No.”

Of course she could feel it. What was it? Magnets? Her resolve melting? She started to sob into his mouth.  His kiss tasted, this time, like an orange Dreamsicle.

“I won’t feed this time, baby. You need to re-gain strength. Please don’t fight with me this time. Let me have you. I’ll be gentle. I’ll make you feel so good.” His voice was husky, sexy.

No. Don’t be sexy. Be your cocky asshole self so I can continue to hate your stupid vampire guts.

Goosebumps rose all over her flesh. He was being all sweet and acting desperate to be intimate with her and have it be mutual but she had to ignore what he was doing to her body and make him let her go. She was all tingly but she didn’t want this. She tried to get up but he pinned her. He was too strong.

“Please don’t. I’m sore,” she pleaded. She was aching from the sex, especially the punishment sex. She was just…spent. It was like her heart was splintering into her chest. “Please.” This was so confusing. Her body was responding to him but her head told her she must make it stop.

“Isn’t it the best kind of sore, though, Kyla? I’ll be gentle.” he said but then gave her a wicked smile and grabbed her butt roughly. She groaned out of exasperation and put her hands over her face. She didn’t have the resolve to fight with him when there was a battle going on inside of her already. He started to gently kiss her shoulder and rub her all over with his warm hands. He ran his fingers through her hair and rubbed his hands up and down her torso. Then he lifted her hands off her face, lacing her fingers with his and pinning them above her head, then kissed the bridge of her nose.

In no time her body was responding to his. He had promised her last night that he was good at this. He certainly was. He let go of one hand and rubbed between her legs, pulling a nipple into his mouth, sucking it slowly, and then he entered her slowly, nibbling on her lower lip, her shoulder, but not breaking the skin, going deeper an inch at the time and watching for her reaction as he did.