The Thorndyke Trilogy 2: Dancing at Midnight (18 page)

“I think that was to relax me.” She hadn’t liked it, and now she knew why. Trent had wanted to draw her to his side in any way he could. No chance of that, not even at the time. “I don’t want him.”

“Even if you did, I’d still want you.” His cock was hard now, demonstrating his desire for her. As she watched him, a bead of clear liquid appeared on the tip. He was just out of reach, tantalizingly so. He laughed, the tone rough. “Don’t look at me like that, with hunger in your eyes. I only have so much control.”

Slowly, she put her hands on her top, slid her fingers over the soft surface, and then grasped the hem and dragged it off over her head. She wanted him, to reaffirm what they shared.

He closed his eyes. “Put it back on.”

She gazed all she wanted now he couldn’t see her doing it. His cock reddened, stiffened even more. It must be hurting him. “No,” she said.

“Fuck, Kristen, you don’t play fair.”

His protests reached deaf ears. Nobody had played fair with her recently. She wanted contact, simple human—shape-shifter—contact.

The tiny mark on his upper thigh pulsed, the colors vivid.

“That’s a lovely tattoo.”

He opened his eyes. They were dark, filled with desire and desperation. “It’s not a tattoo. It’s called a sigil, and it appeared after my first shape-shift when I was thirteen. Usually with maturity, men get a deeper voice and girls get their periods. We shape-shifters get our other forms too.”

“As children, you’re—” About to say
normal
, she bit her tongue.

“Human only.” His cock still stood at rigid attention. “But we have telepathy and other gifts, depending on what we will grow up to become. Vampires sometimes can’t tell. Their fangs don’t appear until puberty, and as you know, anyone can develop telepathy.”

Shocked, she gasped. “Trent wasn’t bullshitting me? Vampires do exist?”

He nodded, keeping her attention. “You know at least one.”

Racking her brains, she came up with the answer. “Dalton?”

“Dalton. Does he scare you?”

“A little.” She couldn’t lie. If she wasn’t sharing a bed with Nathan, he’d probably scare her a little too. Strong, intelligent, secretive, although now she knew his secrets. Some of them, anyhow.

“Do I scare you?” His voice softened, but his dick remained hard.

“No.” He didn’t. He wouldn’t hurt her; she knew that now, although Trent had tried to persuade her otherwise. Deep down that had remained with her, the fact that Nathan wouldn’t hurt her. “Please hold me, Nathan. Make me feel myself again.”

Nathan didn’t normally hold her except when they were fucking. Despite that, she never forgot the times he’d stayed with her all night long. All too rare recently. She’d never slept so well, never felt so fulfilled.

She wanted that now.

With a heartfelt groan, he took the two paces that brought him to the bed and came down to her. He discarded her panties with little regard to where they landed, and then he was on her, surrounding her, his cock nestled between her thighs. “I want you. How can I resist you when you look like that? So gorgeous.” He cupped her left breast, caressing it softly, resting his weight on his right elbow.

Her nipple peaked under his palm, the sensitivity increasing exponentially. “You like dancers.”

“I am a dancer.”

“Yes, you are.” The few times she’d rehearsed with Nathan instead of with Steve reminded her of that. His confidence and grace wasn’t something demonstrated in amateurs, not without a lot of practice. He expressed his choreography professionally, throwing steps and words at her that she followed. Now she wanted his grace and strength for another reason. “I want you too, Nathan. But I don’t want you to get up and leave when we’re done.”

“Where would I go?” A smile quirked the corners of his lips. “This is my bed.”

“You own half this building, don’t you?” She’d guessed that from the way he’d made a place available to her.

“Perceptive woman. I own it all. It’s a good investment. And it was the only way I could get the guy who lived here before me to move.”

She caught her breath. That must be millions worth of real estate. An apartment building on Lake Shore Drive? Millionaire’s row?
Not now
. She dismissed the knowledge.
Later
. She wanted something else now.

His body covered hers with a delicious completeness. Lifting her legs, she wrapped them around his waist and pushed against his buttocks with her heels. The movement left her completely open to him. Their juices mingled.

“God, Kristen, don’t you realize what you’re doing? I’m not wearing a condom.”

She took a risk, asking him, “Does it matter?”

“No. At this time of the month, I can’t make you pregnant, and I don’t catch mortal diseases.”

“Wow.” She wriggled her hips, as much as she could in this position. “Then fuck me, big boy.” Light-headed with her own teasing, she drew him closer, tightened her hold on him.

With a shake of his head in surrender, he slid his cock down her pussy until he reached her opening. He paused, but it was wet and ready for him, so his test only served to prove that. He thrust in.

A slow, deep drive impelled him right into her, and he didn’t stop until their bodies met. He moved, working his pubic hair against her bare mound. “God, you feel so fucking good. I should shave too. Skin to skin, sweetheart.”

“It’s waxed. I prefer it that way when I can afford to have it done.” Thanks to her Maskerade earnings, she’d gone back to what she preferred.

“Does someone do it for you?”

She laughed. “Yes, of course.”

“Fuck.”

His cock twitched inside her. Wow, that turned him on. “You want to come along the next time I get it done?”

“And leer at you? Fuck, yes.”

He withdrew, then drove in deep, plunging into her with an abandon he hadn’t used since that first night. He kept his eyes open, and that was new too. Since they’d come to Chicago, he usually closed them and took his own pleasure, making sure she had hers before he finished. Courteous rather than needy. Now he felt raw and open.

He kept his mind open too. He was there; he was everywhere, and she loved it. Inside and out, she wasn’t without somebody.

“Talents can’t understand the mortal need for solitude,” he murmured, smiling. “We’re with each other all the time.” So he’d read that. She didn’t mind; she enjoyed it. It saved her the bother of explaining. “I’ll teach you how to keep your private thoughts to yourself and how to create a channel for special people.”

“For you.”

He smiled. “For me.” Dipping his head, he sealed his mouth to hers. Their kiss was explosive, off the charts. He plunged his tongue deep, then withdrew as he fucked her thoroughly. Her clit nuzzled against his pubic hair, the stimulation adding to the growing excitement inside her. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she held on as he took her for the ride of her life.

She’d asked for comfort, but she was getting passion. With her mind open, she felt him everywhere, building her arousal. The way she set a slow fire burning inside him and then fed it when she lifted her hips and ground her cunt against him.

His groan told her everything she needed to know. Primal emotion roared through them as they worked together toward the end both of them needed. She clutched his back, his muscles rippling against her palms.

When he slid his hands under her buttocks, she arched up, unable to get enough of him. She pressed her needy body against all of him as he pounded into her with relentless efficiency.

And still he kissed her, as sweat sealed their bodies together and passion welded their minds into a frantic dance, the peak building in her like steam under pressure.

Waves of pleasure rolled inside her, each bringing fresh heat. Their bodies slapped together with each stroke, and she grabbed him tightly, anchoring herself.

He did nothing fancy, nothing special. He only joined her as they groaned into each other’s mouths, unable to separate the barest inch of each other, desperation adding fuel to an already explosive climax.

“Can you feel it?”

“Yes.”
That mutual drive returned, so much more intense when they were so deeply aware of each other. Every bit of his skin that pressed against hers imprinted her with his need. Everything she did to him, he returned in his own way, moving in perfect synchrony, their minds and bodies in unison after only one goal.

That single-minded pursuit did more than anything else to heal her from last night’s ordeal, and Kristen irrevocably decided whose side she was on. His. The person who’d only helped her, given her more than she could ever give back.

“I won’t come until you do.”
His big body shuddered in his effort to hold back his orgasm.

That selflessness pushed her over the edge. Kristen pulled away and gasped, sucking in deep breaths as her climax ripped through her with the force of an earthquake. The building could have fallen down around her ears, and she wouldn’t have noticed or cared.

He roared, a primitive sound, his seed spurting deeply inside her, his convulsive jerks showing how out of control he was. He’d never been that way before, not with her. He’d never come and come until all his muscles tightened hard, sharp, gasping groans all he could manage. Turmoil invaded his mind, and so it invaded hers too, confusion and utter, utter joy.

An aftershock racked her body, and she lost herself, delight filling her up as she took everything he had to give her.

THEY LAY TOGETHER, her legs still around his waist, and his body surrounding hers.

She humbled him with her acceptance. She trusted him, and she enjoyed sharing her thoughts after. He’d show her how much she meant to him, cherish her as she deserved.

He was getting soft, and fuck if he didn’t care.

Kristen got to him at a deeper level than he ever allowed, not these days. He still couldn’t see a future for them, but they had the present.

Reluctantly he rolled off her but took her with him so their bodies stuck together. He loved the messiness of sex, the juices, the sweat, the way she lavished kisses on him and he could respond. It reminded him that he was human. Because he was. Just a different kind of human, that was all. As far as anyone could determine, Talents had very similar DNA, only differing in a few crucial points, and they weren’t easily picked up on a regular scan. Nothing as straightforward as “this and that don’t match,” far more that “this fragment and this and this” added up to a shape-shifter or Sorcerer or vampire.

Her breath came in hot gusts against his throat, and he bent his head to kiss her, this time gentler, more caring. “We should shower.”

“But you like this.”

“I do, but I also want to shower with you. It means I get my hands on you all over again.”

She laughed, broken because of her shortness of breath. He knew exactly what she felt like, and not just because he sensed it in her mind with his empathy. The warmth, the emotion, the feeling that something important had just fallen into place suffused him.

Until he kissed her, he’d watched her. He’d kept his eyes open. At the point of orgasm, he’d seen the beauty of Kristen letting herself go completely, and as her cunt spasmed around his cock, her mind opened to the beauty of true togetherness.

At that second, he’d glimpsed things he wasn’t sure she wanted to show him. There were more siblings at home; she didn’t just have one brother. He wanted to meet them, become a part of them, because he wanted to know everything about her.

That was a first. Usually he kept his distance. Better, he’d always thought. He couldn’t imagine a relationship lasting more than a mortal lifetime. But that was then. Before Kristen. Now nothing was off the table.

He stroked his hand from her waist up to her breast, the swiftly cooling slickness reminding him deliciously of their recent exertions. “Pretty.”

“Small. They used to tease me at school about that.”

“You didn’t go to dancing school?” Most female ballet dancers had small breasts. She was perfect; every part of her sleek body was a wonder.

“No, not until I was sixteen. I went to a regular high school, but I took dance lessons before and after school hours.” She paused. “My parents couldn’t afford to send me to dance school, and they were worried about the profession, that I wouldn’t make a living doing it.”

“They wanted you to have something to fall back on?” He’d make sure that didn’t matter to her. He’d leave her well provided for, but they weren’t finished yet, not by a long shot. It would be years before he had to leave.

If he ever did.

The thought arrived fully formed, unbidden, and it terrified him. True, he could convert someone to a dragon shape-shifter, but what then? What about when they both wanted to move on? Years ago he’d persuaded himself he was happier on his own, grazing rather than staying in one spot until all the sustenance was gone.

With Kristen, he doubted that would happen. But uncharacteristic uncertainty confused him. What now? What had happened? Should he tell this woman he could make her a shape-shifter? No, not yet.

Shit
. What he’d fought against had arrived. He couldn’t hold himself apart any longer. She knew what he was, and she’d accepted it without a qualm, had held out her arms to him instead of folding them around her body protectively, keeping him out.

“Who did that?”

“You read that?” he asked, startled. Too relaxed to use his usual shields against the thoughts racing around his head, he’d kept himself open. Had she picked up the bits about his fears of permanence? Fuck, he hoped not. But if they took this further, she’d know the whole truth eventually. Better that he told her now.

He rolled onto his back, tucking one hand behind his head. She leaned up and gazed at him, waiting.

He sighed in surrender. “All right. Yes, there’s a reason I’m a loner.” She forced a laugh at him when she cast a meaningful glance at his sigil. “It’s more than that. Many Talents have life partners, but… Well.” He resisted the urge to pull up the sheet and cover himself. “Fifteen years ago—sixteen now, I was somebody else. That is, I had a different name. I worked for a covert government operation. They know about us, at least some parts of it do.”