Out of the Box 3 Read online
Page 2
“Yes.”
It was just one word, and the tone of his voice warned me not to push any further. I didn’t want to ruin things, so I let it go—for now.
Wrapping my hand fully around his cock, I stroked him, harder than I had before, and pulled a quiet moan from his lips.
“Last question until you’re bad again… What do you want?”
If he was surprised, he did not show it, and answered without missing a beat. “To see you nude.”
Who was I to refuse?
I reached behind my back first; the hook of my bra unsnapped easily. I rested a hand against my breast, holding the cups in place until I had slid the straps down both arms, then eased them off me slowly. The entire time, Anando’s eyes remained on me, just a little wider, until my nipples were pebbling without ever being touched. Taking off my panties without abandoning my spot over his upper thighs was trickier, but it was worth it to see his tongue dart out and run over his upper lip in an absentminded but oh so sexy gesture. I knew he enjoyed watching my body; he had proved it before that night, and again when he had asked to see me nude. But I knew also that he enjoyed touching me. Only the night before, he had spent long moments massaging every inch of my skin.
“Want to touch?” I asked, very low.
He answered with a groan. The handcuffs rattled as he tried to move his arms, only to be stopped by the slates of the bed holding the chain.
“Oh, sorry, I forgot you can’t do that. But I can touch for you. Would you like me to?”
I didn’t wait for his reply. I cupped the underside of my breasts as though presenting them to him, and just brushed my thumbs over my distended nipples. Anando’s hips bucked under me.
“I didn’t know you had a wicked side, Virginia.”
I shifted forward, just enough that the wetness between my legs brushed against the base of his cock.
“Whereas I knew you were a bad man. Speaking out of turn again, that’s another question for you.” I rocked forward and back, sliding easily against his hardened flesh. I’m not sure which of us I was teasing the most. “How often do you bring women here more than once?”
He shook his head. “Virginia… I don’t…”
“Don’t what?” I pressed in just a little harder. “Don’t want to answer me? You don’t have much of a choice here. My game, my rules.”
He was taking harsh, irregular breaths now, and so was I.
“No, I don’t…don’t bring women here. Not more than once.”
I stilled. Of all the answers I had imagined in the few days since I had met Anando, this was the very last one I would have expected to hear from him. And the one I had most wished to hear.
It was the answer I was least likely to believe, but also the one I most wanted to believe.
I leaned down and crushed my lips to his. It wasn’t a nice kiss. It wasn’t a tender kiss, or a soft one. It was raw, and harsh, and strong. It was everything I felt and couldn’t put into words in the simple touch of mouth against mouth, clashing teeth and forceful tongues.
When I drew back, I couldn’t bear to look into his eyes. I couldn’t dare. He would have seen right through my soul if I had. I’m not sure what he would have found there.
I had brought us to dangerous waters, and I had to bring us back to safer shores. Safe, for us, was sex, pure and simple.
Until now, he had always been the one in control when we had – what should I call it? Made love? Fucked? One implies feelings that vampires aren’t supposed to be able to feel. The other feels much too cold for what we have shared. He had always been the one in control, setting the pace, the angle, the depth of his thrusts; torturing me, more often than not, with touches that were too light until I was ready to beg him and curse him in the same breath.
I wanted to do the same thing to him. Go slow, and drag things out even more than I already had, make him forget he didn’t need to breathe and pull my name from his lips. But as soon as I lowered myself onto his cock, feeling him stretch me just enough that I felt each inch as though it had been the first time, my resolve disappeared. We had played enough, already.
From the start, I set a hard pace, raising myself over him then sinking down again with each of my heartbeats. I let my hands play over his chest; my nails drew small lines over his abs, then up to the tight areolas just a shade darker than his skin. I could feel the pressure, just beneath my fingers, as real as the pressure building inside me. There was something missing, though.
“I miss your hands.”
The words were choppy, breathy, but he heard them, and I could tell he wanted to answer. I hadn’t asked him a question, though, and he held his tongue.
“I guess I’ll make my hands your hands. Where do you want to touch me?”
He grunted his reply. “Between your legs.”
I arched back a little, changing the angle until the sensation of his cock sliding inside me was more intense – and until I could show him where my right hand was, now, touching my clit as he might have done it, if he had been able to use his hands. Touching it as he had touched it before; as I knew he would again.
His hands were clutching the edge of the bed, and with each of my thrusts down, his hips arched off the bed, meeting me and amplifying the strength of my movements. He was tense beneath me, his body coming close to completion with signs I was beginning to recognize.
Pleasure tore through me, lightning and ice in the same second. I wanted to throw my head back and ride the wave, think of nothing and simply feel. More than that, though, I wanted to watch Anando. I struggled to keep my eyes open, keep my hips rocking until he arched under me. His hands tightened on the wood and I heard it creak, but it held on. His face, though, was what sent another stroke of blue fire through me. I had seen him come before; I had never seen him let go. Even at the height of his pleasure, he had always been focused on mine. This time, he had nothing to do but enjoy himself, and trust me to care enough about him to make it good.
If I was to judge by the radiance of his face, I had. But I could do better, still. I could give him something else he wanted, something else he needed. I laid down over him, supporting my weight on my forearms, and kissed him, long and slow, until he started to relax beneath me. When he did, I pulled away and tilted my head to the side, just a little, just enough to offer him my neck.
“Ask nicely, now,” I murmured.
He groaned, and then he said my name. I doubt his voice would have sounded any different if he had been praying.
“Go ahead, Anando. Gently.”
I didn’t need to tell him how to do it; he had always been almost…delicate when he bit me. And he was this time too. Small pinpricks were my only warning before he started pulling on my blood, the pressure so light it was a caress. He didn’t take much at all; it was probably not enough to satisfy his hunger. But it was enough to make him groan, low in his throat, and to make me tremble until I had to lower myself and rest against him.
“Thank you, sweet Virginia.”
I don’t think the quiet words, murmured against my forehead, referred to the bite. It was nice to realize I hadn’t disappointed him. Nice to know I could be in charge if I wanted to, and take care of Anando the same way he had taken care of me so far.
He told me where to find the key and I set him free, placing a kiss on the inside of his wrists as I pulled the metal off them. His arms wove around me, pulling me close to his chest again, and it rumbled against my cheek when he spoke.
“So tell me. I allowed you to handcuff me. I gave you full control over me. Does that make me weak?”
I snorted— “Don’t be silly.” —and he laughed softly.
I would have wanted nothing more than to stay with him until morning, but I was supposed to be at work at eight, and I couldn’t call in sick, not after getting behind on Friday because I had been distracted.
I rested in Anando’s arms for a little while, the events of the evening replaying in my mind. My fears from earlier seemed so far away, so
ridiculous, even. I knew now that I would be back, and without guilt or apprehension anymore.
It was with some regret that I finally slipped out of Anando’s arms, some time around one in the morning. I tried not to wake him, but he sat up as I was sliding my dress on.
“Is something wrong?”
“No, I just need to go home and get some rest before I have to get to work.”
Before I had finished speaking, he was out of bed and putting some clothes on.
“You don’t have to—”
“Of course I have to. And I want to. I’m not going to let you call in a cab at this hour.”
I was a bit amused by his protective tone. “Afraid I’ll run into trouble? Of the fanged variety, maybe?”
He chuckled and came to me. His fingers ghosted over the fresh scars on my neck, and I shivered.
“I’d say ‘mine’,” he murmured, his low voice sinking beneath my skin and settling there like a purring cat, “but after tonight, maybe ‘yours’ would be more accurate.”
He drove me home. Even after he had left me in front of my apartment building, after we had parted with a kiss that was both gentle and fiery, his words continued ringing through my mind like wind chimes in a storm.
Help me, Lady Aphrodite, but I should know better than to believe them. Shouldn’t I?
The End
About the Author:
Kallysten’s most exciting accomplishment to date was to cross a few thousand miles and an ocean to pursue (and catch!) the love of her life. She has been writing for fifteen years, and always enjoyed sharing her stories and listening to the readers' reactions. After playing with science fiction, short stories and poetry, she is now trying her hand, heart and words at paranormal romance novels.
To see her other stories, including free short stories and sample chapters, visit http://original.kallysten.net
Also available from Kallysten:
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