The Marriage Ultimatum (City of Dreams Series) (8 page)

The head of him was at her entrance when he felt her hands at his shoulders.

“Vlad, wait.”

His jaw hardened with the effort it took to simply stay motionless for a moment.

He looked into her witch’s eyes.

“I…I’m not protected. Do you, can you?”

He was stunned. How could he have forgotten something he had never, ever, in his many years as a sexually active man, once neglected? Slowly he came back to himself. He could feel his face flush.

He reached into the nightstand and found a condom.

Sabrina extended her hand toward his pulsing cock.

“If you want…I can try to…let me,” she offered.

“Nyet,” he ordered, all but pushing her hand away. He took a breath. “That won’t be necessary.”

Breathing deep, trying to maintain a semblance of control, he slid the protection on in one practiced motion and looked down to see Sabrina: pale skin rosy from their lovemaking, her eyes as luminous as the moon outside. Unable to resist, he ran his thumb along her bottom lip and then each reddened nipple in turn.

Her eyes closed on a keening sigh.

She lay before him like a banquet, tight in the grip of her own need.

“Where were we?” he murmured.

His fingers skidded down the smoothness of her belly to her navel and then into her slick entrance. There was no way he could wait any longer. He parted her knees and positioned himself in one efficient motion.

“Now.”

He nudged into her snug welcome, feeling her heat.

Sabrina’s legs opened further to clasp around his waist. He pushed deeper and she buried a harsh cry into his neck. Something about her voice had him checking his motion. He looked down into her face. “I’ve hurt you?”

“Mmmm, no,” she responded quickly, biting her lip. Her face reddened, and then she looked straight into his eyes as she urged him on and in with the tight clasp of her legs.

Vlad had to save the puzzle of that for later when his brain could comprehend more than the driving demand of his body. He pulled out slightly, trying for a measured rhythm but it was no good. He wanted to savor. But that would have to be next time. Sabrina’s little panting breaths, the feel of her breasts crushed against his chest, all served to power him forward and as his pace quickened, he heard her voice gasp into his neck, “More, more,” until they both came in an exhilarating rush.

They slept. He startled awake shivering, pulled on his jeans, then put a match to the logs arranged in the fireplace. Two days in with no heat and the house held a pervasive chill. But there was a hearth in every room save the bathrooms. He couldn’t believe that he’d lacked the self-restraint to see to the fire before making love to Sabrina. No, he hadn’t seen to their comfort with a fire, and even more surprising to him, he hadn’t remembered protection until she’d reminded him. Both were uncharacteristic lapses on his part.

She lay on her side under the duvet with only the translucent skin of her temple and the tangle of her hair visible on the pillow.

He’d already memorized that pale perfect body, the pouting globes of her breasts, the long legs. His body tightened back into readiness. He knew that her unpainted lips, and unpolished fingernails and toes were a breath of fresh air to him. Already he knew how she buried her face in his neck to soften the cries and gasps of her passion. He knew the rough scratch of his unshaven jaw had marked her pale flesh from her throat to her thighs with pink wheals that he’d soothed away with his tongue. He knew that the color of the soft curls between her thighs exactly matched the cascading dark copper strands on the pillow.

A rush of something like possessiveness filled his gut and he shook his head. He didn’t do possessive. He turned away to stare into the fire. He would let her sleep. For a short while.

****

Sabrina stretched, the heat of the fireplace against her back made clothing superfluous. Vlad slept at her side, clad in jeans. His chest, bronzed copper by the glow of the fire, rose and fell in a mesmerizing, even rhythm. Her stomach grumbled into the silence. With a grimace, she slipped into his discarded shirt and crept back to the kitchen to forage. He was still asleep when she returned with two mugs of soup and crackers. She set the tray on the low table near one of the windows and plopped into the easy chair alongside it. She sipped from her mug and savored the view. His long body dominated the bed. She blushed as she thought of the heavy weight of him on her and inside of her. She was the luckiest woman on the planet. A renewed surge of heat pulsed between her thighs, and she tucked her legs underneath her in the armchair.

She thought of letting him sleep but then recalled the nightmare of last night. It had been horrendous to witness the first time, and she had no wish for either of them to repeat the experience.

She pitched her voice low.

“Hey, soup’s on.”

Vlad came awake quickly and with none of the angst of the previous night. He levered himself up in the bed and took the mug from her extended hand.

The canned chicken noodle soup was something that was on Sabrina’s menu every other day of the week, but today the plain fare tasted like the nectar of the gods.

Should she be embarrassed to sit like this and revel in his flawless body on display while she sat splayed in the chair, in his buttoned down shirt and nothing else? She wasn’t. She examined his body with satisfaction, a pleasant ache making itself felt in her muscles. Vlad had made her feel amazing, and she wanted that feeling again.

“Thanks for the soup.” His voice was gritty with sleep, and he lifted his already empty mug in salute.

Sabrina waved a hand, smiling.

“You have a fine collection of canned goods in the pantry, perfect for the occasional hurricane power outage.”

****

He loved her smile.
Loved?
No, it was just that she had a great smile. It wasn’t a programmed show of teeth; it was big, spontaneous and genuine. And how sweet that he was on the receiving end.

“And for dessert?”

His voice had deepened a notch, his intent clear, his gaze trained on the spot where the hem of his shirt did not quite close over her thighs.

She squirmed as he focused the full heat of his gaze on her legs.

“Um, I did notice some canned peaches….”

He raised an eyebrow. He was enjoying the play of color along her cheekbones. She licked her lower lip.

“And a can of whipped cream,” she said.

Her gaze met his and a sizzling message passed between them.

“Indeed.” He nodded. “I’ll clear away the mugs into the kitchen. Only fair since you did the prep.”

He picked up the tray and left the room.

****

A trickle of moisture warmed the most intimate flesh between her thighs. Sabrina didn’t bother to button the shirt. She just threw her legs over the arm of the easy chair and waited.

He returned moments later with the can of whipped cream and a glint in his eye.

“Not much of a dessert,” he shook the can absently, his gaze pinning her to the easy chair, “for somebody of my size.”

“You’ll just have to make do,” Sabrina murmured in a low voice she didn’t recognize as her own.

He strode toward her with purpose and she shrieked, jumping from the chair and leaping to the other side of the room.

Vlad was there before her and took her hand.

“Shush, little one, all cats like cream.”

He led her back to the bed. She fell back onto it, bonelessly, at his urging.

He knelt beside her and parted the shirt, baring her breasts for his thorough scrutiny.

****

Without a touch, the nipples budded into rosy prominence, and Sabrina fought to keep her breathing steady. This was getting out of hand, and he hadn’t even touched her.

“A perfect dessert,” he said, leaning toward her to spray a coin-sized dollop of cream on each aching bud.

“Oh, God.” Sabrina watched as he lowered his head to place his tongue at the side of one nipple before slowly lapping at the cream. He was exquisitely slow when all she wanted was for him to take the whole nipple in his mouth.

“Ahh, oh.” Sabrina lost her words as only he could make her do and could merely watch as he proceeded to administer the same treatment to the other breast and nipple. Then he covered her navel with cream, and licked it ever so slowly out again with his hot tongue. He moved lower still and Sabrina shook in a fever of need.

“Ah, Sabrina. Open for me. Let me see my dessert.”

She loved the way he said her name with that faint accent, rolling it into something exotic. The sheer sexiness of his words almost sent Sabrina over the edge. She had no will and no want to do anything but comply.

Vlad’s fingers stroked through the folds of her femininity seeking and finding the responsive bud at the core of her. Then he sprayed a sizable drop of cream right there at the heart of her.

She gasped on a moan as his tongue arrowed into her core drinking up the cream and, when it was gone, continued his ministrations.

She sobbed as her thighs began to quake. His hands were there, he held her legs open, and he gave her no respite from his wicked tongue until the massive orgasm quieted and she fell back onto the sheets, completely spent.

He gathered her to him as her breathing settled. Then he shucked his jeans and reached for a condom.

“Oh no, you don’t,” she said.

Still reeling from the aftershock, she rose unsteadily to her knees.

“My turn.” She was all take-charge attitude.

Then she pushed him back down onto the sheets and reached for the whipped cream.

Her tongue poked out of her mouth in concentration as she looked at the label of the can.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,
malenki moyo
,” he said.

“Let me be the judge of that,” she said solemnly.

And then her small hand covered his engorged member and she squeezed a generous splotch of the cream onto the tip.

She started low at the base of his shaft licking her way up slowly, gaze fixed on his massive erection quivering under her hand, his tanned belly taut with control.

“I always save the best part of my dessert for last,” she murmured, finally reaching the cream that covered the head and placing her full pink lips over the tip.

She took him in as deep as she could, and it was amazing. Nothing in her non-existent experience could have prepared her for how good it felt to pleasure him.

****

His gaze was fixed on her intent face, and at the sight of her breasts round and swaying, nipples peaked as she bent over him. He couldn’t take it a moment longer. He flipped her onto her back. His hands, shaking slightly, parted her knees; he rapidly put the protection in place, and sank in deep.

****

When Sabrina awakened, Vlad had built up the fire again. Its bright flames flickered their reflection in the darkened windows. The omnipresent rain made it impossible for her to tell the time of day. Was it daytime rainy and dark, or nighttime rainy and dark? She would have made a poor Girl Scout.

She wanted a quick shower. They hadn’t used much water so the shower should be warm enough. Besides, the fire would help warm her even if the water proved cold. She knotted her hair on the top of her head. It would take too much water to wash again, and then she could leave some warm water for Vlad. She closed her eyes as a rush of liquid fire gripped her core. How had she gone from virgin to eager sexual pupil in hours?

She’d never had the time or the inclination to indulge in a relationship and with the schedule she kept, she usually had more interest in sleep. She’d assumed that the sexual-adventure gene had passed her over. Her girlfriends had agonized over their ups and downs with guys, but she had never met anyone so tempting that she would put aside every other consideration but the needs of her body. The ultimate negative had been her father’s defection. Later, as a bystander to her mother’s subsequent relationships, the tough object lesson of her father was further cemented. Sabrina learned the lesson well.

Romantic love didn’t exist. That last guy, Alex’s dad, whoever he was, had proved the theory best of all.

But this was different. Vlad was different.

Vlad was sexually irresistible, and as a first experience, she knew he was head and shoulders above any guy who had ever expressed interest in her. So now she knew what the fuss was all about. She counted herself lucky, judging from her friends’ tales. Vlad wielded his sexual expertise in a way that made her feel special; not at all like a one-night stand. And that was something at least. And really if she faced it, and she’d had to face up to so much in her life so far, when this storm passed, when the power went back on, they would return to their regular lives.

Surely, by that time, the ridiculous headlines would be long forgotten.

And when their fifteen minutes of infamy were over on the crazy baby daddy drama, she would be rational and appeal to his common sense. They would discuss it, and she would make him understand that she had not had any part in releasing a libelous story about him to the press.

Maybe with the notoriety of their situation, she wouldn’t be able to keep her job at VGI. Surely, he would not do anything to prevent her from getting another position in another New York company. They would move on with their lives.

Nodding to herself in acceptance of that inevitability, she opened the shower door and groped for the bath towel when the bathroom door was pushed wide.

Vlad, all six foot three of him, gloriously naked, was about to step into the enormous shower enclosure.

“Um, there’s still warm water.”

Sabrina, self-conscious in spite of the past hours, feeling unsophisticated, pressed herself, futilely into the far wall. She was losing her words again and couldn’t believe that she was blushing. Not after all they had done.

“You know it would have been more water efficient, greener, to wait for me.” He raised a brow, eyes mock serious.

Then he blocked her with his body when she would have stepped out. He reached behind her, and turned the spray back on.

As usual, Sabrina had only to look at him and completely lose rational thought. “Yikes!” she yelped as the water hit her breasts at the same time Vlad pulled her into his own hard body so the water covered them both.