Chapter Twelve
Havermouth, Present Time
Talen was gone by the time she woke, and she wondered if the legends about vampires and daylight were right. She groaned as she rolled onto her back, and grinned, dropping her forearm over her eyes. Way to make a comeback into the dating game, Aislen, she congratulated herself. A sexy daddy-bear vampire fuck buddy.
He’d been surprisingly gentle, leaving her feeling thoroughly ridden but not sore, she added as she pulled on a satin kimono-style dressing gown, that she had loved as a teenager, and made her way to the bathroom. She paused in the doorway to the bathroom, frowning. and inhaled.
“What the actual fuck?” She made her way down to the kitchen.
Heath, immaculate in a grey pinstriped suit, glanced over his shoulder as he buttered toast. “Toast?” He asked coolly. He wore a frilled floral apron that her mother must have left behind tied around his waist and fuck, if he didn’t look deliciously domestic, she thought. The only possible improvement would be if he were naked under the apron.
“Is that takeaway coffee?” She spied the tray of coffee cups on the bench.
“Long black, I’m told is your way of taking it.”
There were four coffees which meant that he was expecting the rest of the Triquetra to appear. “Hmm,” she held up a finger. “We’ll discuss this in ten minutes once I’ve had a shower.”
“Agreed. You reek of lumberjack,” he replied with stern disapproval as the toaster popped, turning back to place the toast onto a second plate.
As she turned back to the bathroom, the door opened and Rhett paused on the threshold. She saw him inhale and grimace.
“Move it or I’ll use it,” Cameron patted Rhett’s arse from behind. “Hey, better options just appeared on the horizon,” he added as he spied Aislen in the hallway. “And it already reeks of sex, so Heath has been busy rutting our slut.”
“Not Heath,” Rhett said darkly.
“Whatever,” Aislen stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind her.
As she used the toilet, she grimaced at the amount of cum – Talen hadn’t used a condom at any time. Nor had she asked him to, she admitted to herself – partially because she hadn’t had sex in five years with another person and so was rusty at the etiquette, but also, she suspected, for the same reason that she had spontaneously decided to take him home within fifteen minutes of meeting him.
Vampires had the ability to influence people - necessary to convince their prey that they hadn't been fed upon. It appeared she was also susceptible, as normal humans are, though not quite as thoroughly, as not only had there been a strong inclination on her behalf to take him home and fuck the living daylights out of him, but she clearly remembered him drinking from her.
Fun fact, she sniped at herself as she stepped into the shower. Did it take the gloss off the night? Did she regret it? Nah.
The ability to influence people existed for a reason – to persuade them that they hadn’t been fed from – so the fact that she remembered it, meant something.
As did the arrival of the Triquetra in her kitchen, she added as she dried herself off and put the dressing gown back on.
She returned to the kitchen. Rhett was at the dining table flipping through her sketch book, whilst Cameron sat at the breakfast bar eating toast with Heath, who still manned the kitchen as if he intended to set up home there. All three looked up as she entered.
“Morgana Ivy,” Rhett said. “I should have known. I think on some level, I did know. I just didn’t…”
“Rhett tells us that you draw men getting off with other men for a living,” Cameron sneered. “Let me guess your inspiration,” he arched an eyebrow conspiratorially at Heath, who watched her, his grey eyes narrowed, his face in what is referred to as a “resting bitch face” on a girl.
“Hmm,” she leaned on the doorframe, deliberately letting the neckline of the kimono sag until her breast was almost revealed. “We’ve played this game before. Rhett’s Mr. Nice Guy, and you guys are the bullies. You break me down in public with humiliation and cruelty, seduce me in private when you can force yourself on me without anyone intervening, and then you laugh at me and tell me that I want it because I enjoyed it, right? Well, been there, done that therapy, nice to revisit why I left you, so bye-bye now.”
“Drink your coffee,” Heath held it out. “You’ll be less snarky with caffeine in you.”
She grimaced because it was getting cold and stalked forward to take it from him. “Just because I will drink your coffee, doesn’t mean that I’ll drink your Kool-Aid,” she told him. “What the fuck are you three up to, and how dare you pull this shit in the lead-up to my father’s funeral?”
Cameron swallowed thickly and looked away. He, at least, was ashamed by the last accusation, she thought. Heath mechanically bit into his toast, chewed, and swallowed without taking his eyes off her.
“And who the fuck turned Heath into a fucking cyborg?” She demanded, with an explosion of irritation. “Is he a wooden puppet or is there a real boy under the veneer? Does not compute? Is this what studying law does to a person? Knock-knock, handsome, is anyone but the woodworms at home?”
“When did you become a fucking bitch?” Rhett spat, slapping the sketch book shut. “Who turned Heath into a fucking cyborg? She’s standing there snarking whilst she holds a long fucking black after spending the night fucking a lumberjack from Zeus fucking Forest Works. Does that compute, princess?” He crossed the room and delivered the last words sneering down at her.
She inhaled sharply, watching his pupils dilate.
He was on her before she had fully processed how turned on she was, her coffee falling to the floor as he shoved her back into the hallway and against the wall, his hand around her throat as his mouth devoured. Her fingers tangled in his hair, before smoothing over his shoulders, as her robe fell open and his hand clenched over her breast, his groan dredged from the darkness within him.
“I think that went well,” Cameron said from the kitchen. “I’m next,” he added as Rhett freed his cock.
“I have a nine o’clock,” Heath replied. “What a mess,” he added as he began cleaning up the spilled coffee from the lino.
“Wait… What…” Aislen fought free of the insanity. “No. We’re not doing this,” she was panting with need even as she refused. “I’m not playing your fucking game… Oh,” she groaned as Rhett thrusted in, pinning her against the wall. Fuck, she thought, her eyes rolling back and her face lifting as her body gave, his thoughts rolling through her in erotic display. “Oh fuck.”
The heel of his hand struck the wall next to her head as he braced, his breath heavy, his eyes intensely on hers. His hair had fallen free of its tie and framed his face as he dragged her leg up around his hips and leaned into her, using gravity to drive deep.
“Oh god,” she moaned, hooking her heel against his tight arse and clutching him to her. “Harder.”
She saw his wolf flare into his eyes in the gloom of the hallway, and his breath caught. “Aislen,” he said.
“Harder.”
His growl was all werewolf and he stepped in until her toes left the ground, his claws piercing wallpaper and dry board as he gripped for traction and delivered on her demands.
Her hands gripped his shoulders and then tangled in his hair, her teeth dragging over his lower lip, capturing the piercing, and then sucking. His groan was that of a man lost, and his thrusts into her deepened and increased in force so that they struck against the wall in the dark rhythm of a funeral march.
Her groans and cries arced over them, and his growls grew more primal as he lost control, shifting somewhere between wolf and man, the fur standing out under her palms and then retreating. As he came, she felt him lodge into her, his cock knotting behind her pelvis bone and the ring of muscle.
An audible “Fuck!” was forced from his lungs as his cum was forced from him. The “Fuck!” changed pitch as the pressure of his knot against her g-spot tipped her into orgasm and her muscles milked his swollen cock. “Oh, god,” he groaned between his teeth, his eyes losing focus, the words dredging through him, and she felt the strike of more cum within her. “Oh… GOD!”
“Did you…” She panted against him, her forehead sinking forward to rest against his shoulder. “Or, better yet, are you… Stuck in me?”
“Knotted,” he said through his teeth. “It shouldn’t… I mean… It doesn’t normally happen like this. Not in this form.” He rocked back against the hold of his cock within her and she arched back moaning, the reverberation of the sound shuddering through them both. “Hmm,” his voice had change pitch. “This is.. uhh…”
“Ohhhh fuck,” she gripped his shoulders, the slightest movement of him pressed the swelling against her g-spot and her body wanted to come again. “Just… just rock a little,” she pleaded. He grunted as he followed her instructions, thrusting into her. “Oh, fuck.”
“Oh, fuck!” The devil was in his eyes and his lips curled in a savage smile. His next thrust had force, driving into her, forcing her breath out in an unsteady gasp. “Well, who knew that this would be so enjoyable?” He breathed out and began to drive his body against her, every thrust a thud of her body against the wall as the knot within dragged through her, and she jerked against it, her orgasm hovering… and then overcoming her in a sudden rush.
His groan was filthy as he came again, the knot loosening until his cock slid free, spilling his cum down her thighs as he braced and panted over her. “Okay,” his voice was a dark growl. “Not what I expected this morning, but I’m not complaining.”