“I can do that.”
“All night it is, then,” she breathed and turned into his kiss.
Chapter Seventeen
LANA WOKE BEFORE sunset the next night. She knew this because Vincent was still out and because a quick check of the sunset app on her cell phone confirmed she had several minutes before the sun went down. She slipped out of bed long enough to use the facilities and grab her laptop, then settled back in and logged on to the hotel’s Internet to check her mail while she waited. Her in-box had the usual junk, plus five new messages from Dave Harrington and one from her dad. She opened her dad’s and found nothing new. He still talked about Dave like he was the second coming and instructed her to meet up with Dave to finish whatever this assignment was that she’d taken on without telling anyone. He didn’t ask how it was going, didn’t ask if she needed help. Hell, the guys took on private jobs all the time, and he never complained. In fact, he thought it was a good thing—it kept them happy and flush when business was slow. But he obviously didn’t think the same way when it came to her. This attitude was why she hadn’t told him about the job for Raphael in the first place. She’d known what his reaction would be.
She read on, wondering just how deeply he’d snooped into her business. It seemed he knew the job had a vampire element, but not much else. That meant Dave Harrington had probably tracked her as far as Hermosillo, but hadn’t managed to squeeze any info out of Vincent’s people. Given what she now knew about the vampire hierarchy, that didn’t surprise her, especially since the only vampire who actually knew what was happening was Michael. Dave could still find her if he was determined, but it would take a long time, maybe even long enough that the job would be over.
And she considered, for the first time, that when the job was over, she and Vincent would go back to their separate lives. The idea that she might never see him again . . . hurt. It was an actual, physical pain in her heart. She pressed a hand to her chest and tried to tell herself it was something else, all the spicy food, maybe. But that didn’t explain the tears stinging the back of her eyes.
The sheets rustled as Vincent stirred awake behind her. Pasting on a smile, she looked over her shoulder to see him watching her.
“You can read my e-mails, too, if you promise to do it naked,” he purred.
She laughed, relieved that he hadn’t noticed her mood. “I was waiting for you. I need a shower.”
“Shower sex. Even better than naked e-mail.”
“Who said anything about sex?”
He didn’t say a word, simply threw back the covers and stood in all his naked beauty, his erection jutting hard and thick and proud. Lana didn’t realize she was staring until he walked over and lifted her chin, forcing her to look at his face.
“Hellooo? My face is up here,” he said in a singsong parody of the time-honored female objection.
Lana laughed again, feeling it this time, as she rose to wrap her arms around his neck. “Shower sex sounds good,” she murmured, nuzzling his skin. She took Vincent’s hand as she stood and headed for the bathroom, pausing only long enough to close her laptop without opening any of Dave Harrington’s e-mails.
VINCENT LIFTED LANA against the tiled wall and slammed his cock into her, driven by the need to possess her as much as by anger that she made him want her that much. They’d spent the entire previous night in bed, mostly with him inside her, with only brief pauses for rest and food, in Lana’s case anyway. He didn’t need any food but her blood, and he didn’t need much rest either.
And still, he’d woken this evening hard as a rock and reaching for her. Maybe if he fucked her enough, he’d get his fill. Maybe this hunger driving him to claim her, to make sure no other man so much as looked at her, would finally be sated, and he could go back to his life. Back to fucking whatever woman caught his fancy. Except he didn’t want to fuck any woman but this one.
He snarled his anger, grabbing her thigh and wrapping it higher around his waist, crushing his mouth against hers. Lana echoed his snarl, digging her fingers into his hair so hard it hurt, which only fueled his desire for her. He tasted blood as her lip split from the ferocity of his kiss, then more blood as she bit him back, her laugh low and sultry. His cock grew impossibly harder at the sound and her sex, hot and tight, pulsed around him. He pulled back and met her gaze, her eyes as full of wild abandon as his own must be. Christ, they would fuck each other to death at this rate.
And what a way to go.
He let his fangs emerge, relishing the pain as they split his gums, the widening of Lana’s pupils as she eyed their sharp, gleaming lengths. And then, with her eyes never leaving his, she grinned and tilted her head, baring the elegant length of her neck.
Fuck. Me, he thought and snapped his head forward, his fangs slicing into the dewy heat of her skin, piercing a vein so swollen with blood that it burst like a ripe fruit, flooding his mouth, rolling down his throat. So much blood, and so delectable, that he had to close his eyes against the ecstasy lest Lana see it and know the power she had over him. This was more than blood. This was the blood of the woman who could be his mate if he allowed it to go that far.
Lana’s scream had his eyes flashing open. He pulled his head back, wanting to watch as she climaxed around him, as she lost control, caught in the same trap that he was, her body shuddering in the throes of an orgasm that Vincent had given her, that she was helpless to resist.
“Vincent,” she whispered his name, so soft and sweet, so full of emotion. So vulnerable.
Fool that he was, his heart swelled. Bending his head, he licked the puncture wounds from his bite, sealing them shut and stopping the flow of blood. Then he nibbled his way to her mouth, taking her in a different sort of kiss, one full of desire and longing. And as he did, he slid his cock in and out slowly, feeling her body convulsing around him, her nipples scraping his chest, her heart racing as the orgasm rolled over and through her. And when she was nearly done, when he felt the contractions of her belly begin to slow, the caress of her sheath start to lose its frenzy, he cupped her ass, holding her wide open, and he fucked her in earnest, slamming his cock as deep as he could go, grinding against her clit with every thrust.
Lana’s eyes flashed open in shock as a fresh climax seized hold of her, as her pussy rippled around his cock once more. Her arms tightened convulsively over his shoulders and she cried out helplessly. Vincent felt his own body respond, his orgasm rising up like the heat of a volcano, roaring through every muscle, searing every nerve until his release poured forth, claiming his woman with his cock as certainly as he’d done with his fangs.
LANA HUNG IN Vincent’s grip, so overheated between the hot shower and the even hotter vampire between her thighs that she thought she’d melt away. Either that or explode. She wasn’t sure which. She wasn’t sure she cared, because it was worth it. Vincent was worth it. Maybe that made her an idiot, because he wasn’t just a vampire, he was a man. And men like Vincent didn’t tie themselves down to one woman. She had to remember that. Had to remember that whatever they had was fleeting. That it could be hot and incredible, but in the end it was just fun. Something glorious to remember when she was old and gray.
She stroked her hand over the back of Vincent’s head. His forehead rested against the tile behind her, and his breath was hot and loud in her ear. A cramp reminded her that her legs were still wrapped around his hips and she grimaced, not sure she had any strength left to move them . . . or to stand on her own two feet if she did.
“I think I need a shower,” she murmured, aware of her sweaty skin, of the wetness between her thighs, both his and hers.
Vincent chuckled and lifted his head, his eyes flecked with copper when they met hers. “Can you move?”
“Maybe. If you help.”
He squeezed her butt cheek, then trailed his fingers down into her wetness and along her thigh.