Chapter Eight.
Darcy woke to find early morning light r.i.m.m.i.n.g the curtain, and a heavy weight draped over her. She smiled when her scattered thoughts coalesced. She'd fallen asleep with Quentin's head upon her shoulder, his c.o.c.k embedded between her legs.
"Good morning." He didn't open his eyes, but his mouth curved into a smile.
"Feeling pretty puffed up this morning?"
He arched an eyebrow. "You're very chipper, considering."
"Considering what? That I feel like a two-dollar wh.o.r.e who has a hundred in her pocket?"
His eyes popped open. "That was rather coa.r.s.e."
She wrinkled her nose. "I'm feeling rather...sticky this morning."
"I'm sorry, I'll move." He rose on his forearms, lifting his torso, which only pressed his c.o.c.k deeper inside.
She rubbed her heels on the back of his thighs and pressed down, keeping him firmly inside. "Not yet. Please?"
He lowered himself on his elbows, his face inches from hers. The smirk that was never far from his lips stretched lazily.
Blushing, Darcy immediately covered her mouth. "Maybe I should brush my teeth first."
Quentin shook his head. "A little tooth sc.u.m won't put me off. Not when I find myself buried inside someone so delightful."
"No, really. This isn't a minor case of halitosis."
"No. I'm not moving until you tell me what your first impulse was."
Beneath his watchful stare, she squirmed. "A morning kiss?"
"As in 'good morning', or as in 'morning-after-thank-you-for-the-great-s.e.x' kiss?" His eyes crinkled at the sides.
Darcy felt exposed-more so than the previous evening when her body had been examined and explored thoroughly by two men. Exposed and vulnerable. She pushed at his shoulders. "As in 'good morning, I need to get up'." She removed her feet from his thighs and waited for him to get the hint.
"I think I'll see for myself which it is." His head dipped and his mouth swooped down to take hers in a lazy, erotic kiss-his open mouth rubbing her lips, until she forgot her embarra.s.sment and sighed.
When the kiss ended, Darcy gave him a coy glance. "Well, you didn't expire. So which was it?"
His mouth curved into a self-satisfied smile. "It was a 'wake up, I'm h.o.r.n.y' kiss."
She laughed and raised her legs to circle his waist. "You've got me there. Took you long enough. You are a slow riser." She gave his c.o.c.k a squeeze with her inner muscles.
"I believe we've been insulted."
"I will think you both lack stamina if you don't get down to business quickly." She tightened her thighs to hug his body close.
His c.o.c.k pulsed inside her, edging deeper. "What business are you speaking of?"
Feeling deliciously wanton, Darcy quipped, "The business of giving me pleasure."
"What compensation will you give me for my services?" he asked in a haughty tone.
"Shall we barter?" The very idea sent a shiver through her body. "Service for service?"
His hips flexed, driving him deeper. "Hmm. Bears consideration."
"Like for like?" she said breathlessly.
"I think not. Wouldn't be a fair trade. We're not made the same."
"Because we're vampire and human?"
"No. Man and woman." His fingers skimmed her breast. "You're rounder here."
"Barely," she mumbled.
A growl sounded from deep inside his throat. "The tips of your rounder b.r.e.a.s.t.s are larger and longer..." He tugged on the distended tip of her nipple. "...and more sensitive than mine. Playing with my nipples won't make me nearly come. You have a distinct advantage."
Darcy mewled and curved her hips to encourage him to move.
"And then there are the more obvious differences." His hand crept between them, and he fingered her c.l.i.t and drove his hips upward to emphasize his point.
Not to be out-caressed, Darcy reached between their bodies, curving her hand around the c.o.c.k embedded in her p.u.s.s.y and cupped his b.a.l.l.s. "I envy you this." Her fingers ringed the base of his p.e.n.i.s. "...and this. I imagine just pulling off your clothes could excite you. And yet, when you come inside me, you're still less vulnerable than I am. A woman must accept a man's intrusion."
"Love, we're made vulnerable in different ways." He pulled away her hands and pressed them against the pillow beside her head. His c.o.c.k stroked inside her-deeply. "Your woman's body holds secrets a man can't understand. And you possess a treasure-a warm, moist place a man can burrow inside." He pulled back and stroked again. "Yet, only when the woman is someone we trust can we choose to linger in her solace."
Quentin stoked the slowly building fire with a series of gentle glides, pulling out and driving forward. Then he held himself still inside her, gazing down at her face, the heat and tenderness in his expression melting her from the inside out. "Your c.u.n.t is a place of solace, but my c.o.c.k will always be an intruder and will always beg entrance."
She like the way he talked. The words were poetic, and made her feel beautiful and feminine-something she took for granted in her day-to-day. She tightened her legs around his hips and wound her arms around his broad shoulders. "You're wrong. Your c.o.c.k fills the emptiness inside me, and I haven't the will to refuse your entrance. I want you inside me. I would hold you there forever if I could."
His face grew solemn. "This solace is transitory, love, as long as you remain human. Otherwise, I would keep you thus forever."
Again, he mentioned turning her. Each time, she was more tempted to accept. An eternity of loving him wouldn't be enough. When had she decided she truly loved him? She speared her fingers into his thick hair and pulled him down for another kiss.
The muscles in his arms bunched, and he lifted his torso, giving his hips greater leverage. His strokes were longer-and to Darcy's mind-too d.a.m.n slow. She planted her feet in the mattress and angled her hips upward to shorten the distance between them.
Their hips countered the other's strokes, pounding against each other-faster, sharper, creating a friction that built a spiraling coil of sensual tension. Darcy's legs quivered and her breath grew ragged. When her o.r.g.a.s.m burst, she dug her fingers into his shoulders and held her hips as high as she could reach. His c.o.c.k rested snug inside her channel, caressed from head to s.c.r.o.t.u.m.
Spent, his weight crashed down on her, and her legs collapsed. She rocked him, side to side, holding him as tight as she could, relishing the jetting release that bathed her.
Her lover yawned and kissed the corner of her neck.
If she didn't roust him now, she might be stuck beneath him for another long while. The thought was a pleasant one, but she really did need to get up.
Drowsy and well-sated, Darcy traced the k.n.o.bby vertebrae of his spine. "I should check in on Joe before he sleeps for the day."
Quentin's body stiffened above her. "You needn't worry about him anymore."
She pressed a kiss against his shoulder. "I'm not making love with him again, if that has you worried. Last night was goodbye. To tell you the truth, I don't really know why I wanted him, except I kept saying to myself that loving him was the right choice."
"And not me. Because he's human?"
"Because we've known each other so long-as partners and friends. And I do love him-just not the way he wants."
"You know what I think?"
His voice held that droll note she was coming to treasure. "Hmmm?" Her lips curved into a smile. He was going to say something outrageous.
He rose on his elbows to look down into her face. "I think you were using him to fight your attraction to me." His expression was as complacent as a cat's after licking cream.
"You're unbelievable!" She pretended outrage and made a half-hearted attempt to shove him away. "Everything has to be all about you, doesn't it?"
"Were you lovers before I arrived on the scene?"
"Of course not."
One self-satisfied brow rose. "Well then?"
"That's it? That's your entire argument? You're an arrogant b.a.s.t.a.r.d." He was right, but she'd never admit that. He was already too sure of himself.
"I'm the one in the saddle, aren't I?"
"So now you're what...Roy Rogers?"
"Would you rather I was Trigger?"
"Hmmm, I was just trying to relate to you old man. I'm a.s.suming Trigger was his horse?" She pretended to take his suggestion seriously. "You do have a feature or two that reminds me of a horse. Mainly your backside!"
"Not my c.o.c.k? I think we're insulted again."
Gaiety fled, and she gazed solemnly upward. "Intellectually, I know you're an unsuitable choice for me, but I can't help myself. I want you still. h.e.l.l, I want you all the time."
"I'm similarly afflicted, my dear."
She drew a deep breath. "I really do need to make sure Joe is okay. I won't sleep easy until I do."
Quentin's jaw tightened. "Darcy, he isn't here."
"Did he leave to hunt for more blood?" she asked, alarm rising as she imagined a hundred frightening scenarios.
He held himself perfectly still above her. "Darcy, he's gone."
"What?" she asked, not understanding.
"We talked about it last night, before you came home. He has a lot to adjust to and think about. His love for you was clouding the issue. He knew he'd lost, so he decided to leave."
"But, the team-"
"He's taking a leave of absence."
Tears filled her eyes. "This is my fault. He's alone now."
"He's a man, love. Clinging to him would make him feel less so." He rolled to his side and pulled her closer into his arms.
"I don't like him leaving like this."
"Did you like having both of us love you, so well?" he asked, his voice tight.
Her answer was important to him. She couldn't make light of it or give anything but the honest truth. "I was frightened by how much I felt-and pained. I couldn't concentrate on one sensation, so much was happening. I wanted to cling to you to slow it down. Are you wondering if I will be satisfied with just one lover now?"
He didn't answer, just stared at her steadily.
She laid her palm against his cheek. "You are quickly becoming everything to me. You enrage me, annoy me, fill me, and excite me. You're more than I ever knew I needed."
"How ungrammatical," he said drolly, but his eyes were warm and approving.
She understood. He couldn't reciprocate with loving words. He was a guy. Big, bad vampire was still just a man-and right-brain, left-brain challenged. Words of real emotion might be impossible to draw from him, but his actions spoke volumes.
He'd kept her safe when Joe's storm had raged against her.
He'd prepared her body for another man to take.
He'd kept her warm and loved, and had remained with her to soften her grief from Joe's departure.
Darcy let Quentin pull her close. Snuggled next to his body, she slept with her head resting over his heart.
Darcy took her seat in the conference room, uneasy with the silence from the rest of the team. Not a single glance met hers, and her heart sank. She would be fired.
The captain had called the meeting for late afternoon-earlier than Quentin could possibly attend.
The conference room door swung inward, and Captain Springer entered. He glanced at Darcy, and his face grew solemn. "Sorry about your partner, Darcy."
Darcy gave him a questioning glance. He didn't sound angry with her.
"Joe called and told me what happened. That he'd asked Quentin to make him a vampire when he realized he wasn't going to make it."
Her shoulders lifted with her swift intake of breath.
"He did tell you, didn't he?" he asked, his expression full of sympathy.