Chapter Nineteen

Bucking Up

I can’t honestly say I remembered much about the walk to Ira’s house. It was all a blur as nerves, panic, and lust warred for the forefront of my brain.

Yes, nerves. I was nervous, of course I was. All the guys I’d slept with, but I’d never spent the night before. It would be breaking the rules I set for myself. Was a night of wild “love making” really worth that? Surely it couldn’t be that big a thing. Instead of leaving at the end, I’d just fall asleep there. No big. I could deal.

Much as I tried to keep cool, I couldn’t deny the panic, either. I’d been a bit hasty when I’d agreed to this, hadn’t thought about my tattoo or my boot knife. Things I couldn’t hide very easily. Ira was a vampire, and he’d have to know what the tattoo meant when he saw it. The knife maybe I could get away with, but not the St. James cross. In short, I’d forgotten the hunter’s number one rule of social interaction: above all else, cover your ass.

The lust was self-explanatory. But at the same time, it wasn’t. It was more than just wanting Ira physically. I felt so comfortable with him, so at ease. It wasn’t even mind tricks, which was sort of scary. I’d known Ira for exactly two days. There was no way I should feel this cozy with him, and yet I did. Maybe that merited more looking into, but why ruin a good thing? We were having fun, and not making more of it than it was. For now, that was all that needed knowing. My whole personal credo was about new experiences, and taking your pleasure where you found it. No need to ruin that now.

I beat down all the conflicting thoughts. I’d decided to go through with this, and that was that. If I could make the decision in the first place, then I could follow through with it. Buck up, St. James, I thought. Time to put your big boy pants on. I was an adult, and I would act like it.

That decided, I tuned back into my surroundings enough to realize the trail was getting subtly steeper. We must have been getting close. That was when my awareness of Ira holding my hand returned. He seemed to sense it because he swept his thumb over my knuckles once. In the days I’d known Ira, I’d done more hand-holding than I had in my whole life. Something else I should probably think more about.

Ira’s place materialized in the darkness ahead, and I was spared any such thinking. Being night and all, I couldn’t really see much, but it looked like a cabin on the outside. There was log siding, and a tin roof that I was betting would be green in the light. Three steps led up to a tiny porch at the front door.

We stopped at the bottom of the stairs.

“Here we are,” Ira said. He squeezed my hand once. “It’s not too late to change your mind.”

Don’t tempt me, I said to myself. Out loud I replied, “I’m good.” It was a little quieter than I would have liked, but it would do.

Ira gave me a soft smile. “Okay, then.”

He led us up the steps, still holding my hand, and pulled the door open. It seemed odd to me that he wouldn’t lock his door, but it takes a special kind of stupid to break into a vampire’s place if you don’t know what you’re doing.

Once inside the darkened house, Ira kicked the door closed. He gripped the sides of my face with his hands and tilted me up to capture my lips between his. I opened my mouth for him, and he took advantage of it. His tongue twisted around mine as he walked us backwards. My back hit the door, and just like that there was heat curling in my belly.

It had been some time since our heated conversation in the park, but it hadn’t taken anything to spark that lust back up. I guess today would just be full of new experiences.

My hands seemed to rise all on their own to grip at Ira’s biceps. Going up on my toes, I pushed into the kiss, feeling that burn of lust spark and spread. Ira caught my bottom lip and nipped, just hard enough. I made a helpless noise and fell back against the door.

Chuckling, Ira pulled away. He stood there staring down at me with an amused expression on his face while I caught my breath.

“Come on,” he said, gesturing with his head. “Bedroom’s this way.”

I peered around him, and there was hallway directly behind us.

“Hold on,” I said. “Need breath to walk.”

He grinned. “Why walk?”

Ira leaned toward me, and I only realized what he was about to do a second before he did it. His hands went to my hips and lifted. I made a not-entirely-dignified sound, and automatically wrapped my arms around his neck and legs around his waist. In this position I was up high to rest my chin on his head if I stretched it up. I felt his shoulders shaking, and realized he was laughing into my chest.

“What’s so funny?” I groused.

“Nothing,” he wheezed. Still grinning, he straightened up. “Sorry,” he said. “Didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Bristling, probably visibly, I protested,“I was not frightened. I was…startled.”

He leaned in and gave me a quick, almost chaste kiss. “Okay.”

“Okay,” I said softly.

Ira turned us around and starting walking down the hall. Even though it had startled me, I couldn’t deny the thrill racing through me that he could lift me up. It didn’t happen often. I may be fairly slender, but muscle is heavy. I weighed more than it looked like I did, and most human guys couldn’t support me for long. Of course, Ira had that whole vampire thing going for him. But dwelling on that little fact wouldn’t do anyone any good.

We tried kissing all the way down the hall, but were hampered by Ira’s inability to walk in a straight line while lip-locked. So we would walk a little ways, kiss, bump into the wall, correct ourselves while holding in laughter, and then the process would start all over again. By the time we reached the bedroom, my lips were sore from biting them, and I was stifling giggles against Ira’s neck.

“Think that’s funny, huh?” he said, tone mock-stern.

There was no chance to reply before Ira was heaving me onto the bed. I finally let it go and laughed aloud as I flopped onto the mattress. Shaking his head, Ira went to a knob by the door and twirled it. A pale glow drifted from the light fixture. He came back toward the bed, and I scooted down so I was sitting on the end of it. There was a moment where we just stayed like that, him standing above me, looking into each other’s eyes.

“Ira,” I said slowly.

“Yeah?”

“I…I’m going to keep my shirt on.”

His face creased into soft smile. “Of course. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

He was acting almost like I’d asked his permission, but I let it go. It had the desired effect. Time to get on with the show.

Rolling my shoulders, I unhurriedly shrugged my jacket off and dropped it to the floor in front of me. The whole time, Ira’s eyes were intent on me, never once wavering. With a canted brow, I waited. After a beat, Ira grinned and reached for the bottom of his shirt. As it was passing over his head, I leaned over and pulled my boot knife, sheath and all, from its place. I quickly stuffed it in the folds of my jacket. I felt a bit lighter after that. Mission accomplished.

Ira’s shirt hit the floor as I was unzipping my boots. I pushed them carefully on top the jacket, and then stood up. We both went for our pants at the same time, though Ira had a belt in the way first. Unmistakable sounds of leather clearing belt loops met the metallic rasp of my zipper. I shimmied out of pants as Ira unceremoniously pushed his down and pulled them off.

And then we were naked, except for my tight white t-shirt.

We came together at the same time, Ira shifting slightly so his right leg parted mine. I slanted my head back, and we kissed again. His hand was a gentle pressure on my hip as he guided me to the bed.

The mattress hit my legs, and I fell backwards. Ira crawled up toward me. He sat back on his heels, black eyes roving my body. On impulse, I brought a finger to my collar bone and trailed it down my torso. His eyes followed it every inch of the way.

“Damn,” he muttered as I reached my abs. “You could do laundry on those things.”

I grinned. “You gonna take a picture?”

He laughed once, shaking his head. “I just like looking.”

“You’ll like touching even better.”

“Yes.” He leaned down over me, gathering my shirt and pushing it up. “I think I will.”

His tongue was a surprising, cold wetness around my belly button. Swallowing a gasp, I arched up into him. Too-strong hands found my hips and forced me to be still. Blood went rushing to my cock like there was an express way. Ira smiled against my belly, but said nothing. He went back to his task, leaning in to lap around the inside edge.

“You have an innie,” he said. “It’s cute.”

“Thanks,” I said. It was completely lame, but better than making a crack about what else I wanted “innie.”

He swept his thumb over the indentation and then followed the path with his tongue. Each thrust sent shocking little waves through my system. It should have been silly, but felt so good. I’d never thought of the navel as particularly arousing before, but as he picked up the pace and started tongue-fucking it in earnest it looked like I’d have to rethink that opinion. It was ridiculous how erotic it was, his tongue swirling inside my bellybutton.

Coming up for air, he dragged his teeth up across my abs, nibbling little mounds of scar tissue every so often. My hands and feet twisted and flexed mindlessly in the sheets as he made his way up to my neck, still playfully biting. His bit down a little harder around the skin on my jugular, and my whole body jerked. I wined, and he chortled against me.

“You taste so good,” he whispered across my skin. He angled his head and his nose moved into my hair. “Smell good too.”

Pulling back, he turned his attention to my chest. He ran one cool finger across a small white scar on my chest.

“And these, damn.” He dipped in to trace the scar with his tongue, then he pulled up and blew over the moisture.

“God!” I ground out.

“I’ve never really thought scars were sexy before, but it works for you.” His hands roamed across my body. “But there’s so many. Good thing we have all night.”

I arched up into his mouth as he licked across that same scar. “What happened?” he asked.

“I…I dunno,” I breathed, fighting for memory against the sensation. “I’ve had it forever. A tree accident, I think.”

“A tree accident?” His voice was amused.

“I told you my dad has a big property.”

He hummed in acknowledgment, and then leaned in to flick his tongue over a jagged line beneath my ribs. “And this one?”

My mind raced. A loupgarou in Louisiana had tossed me through a wall, but I couldn’t tell him that.

“Uh, I was in an abandoned building. The wall collapsed on me,” was what I came up with. It was true, as far as it went.

Ira made a tsking sound, and went lower to the parallel hash marks I knew were on the right side of my hip.

“Chicken wire,” I said before he could ask.

He looked up. “Chicken wire?”

I nodded. “Chicken wire.”

Shaking his head, he went back to work. He cataloged the scars on my body with his mouth, and somehow I kept my mind enough to make up bullshit excuses for all of them. Although, strangely, I did leave as much of the truth intact as I could. I didn’t analyze why I had bothered.

When he was done, I was breathless and so hard I was aching, my tip weepy from the feel of his tongue all over my torso. He was crouched down in between my legs, his cool breath puffing over my balls. It was torture, but I never wanted it to stop.

“You should be more careful, Regan.” Ira’s voice was only slightly teasing. “So many marks on this pretty, pretty body.”

His teeth gently closed around one of my balls, and I arched back with muffled scream of pleasure. He let go, and I sagged against the bed.

“Hmm, maybe that’s why,” he said, teasing. “Maybe you’ve got a taste for a little bit of pain.”

He sucked the other one of my balls into his mouth. Hard. The suction was just on the edge of pleasure before it collapsed into pain, but somehow Ira never over did it. Sweat had broken out all over my body when he released me the second time.

“Holy God,” I huffed weakly.

Chuckling, he bent my legs up, pushing them towards my chest and exposing my hole. Without any preamble he attacked my opening with the same intensity he’d given my bellybutton. Only this was so much better. He made his tongue stiff and pointy, and slipped it inside me. I groaned aloud and tried to push down onto him, but his hands on my legs kept me mostly still. All I could really do was thrash side to side.

Ira’s tongue inside me was liquid fire. The cool of his tongue against my hot insides made for a combination that just blew my mind. He rolled it around, flicked it in and out, lapped around the inside of my hole.

“God, Ira, God,” I babbled, not really registering anything but the absurd amount of pleasure that simple organ was creating.

Then a finger slid in beside his tongue, pushing in deeper and tweaking that spot that made the world light up and melt away. Everything receded in a white-hot swirl of hot and wet and more.

The ability for words collapsed, and mindless groans, moans, grunts, and whines replaced it. I’m sure I sounded like a whore in heat as I writhed on that bed, all but begging for Ira to get inside me.

But instead he pulled away, and I whimpered—whimpered—at the loss. I’d been so strung out I hadn’t even realized he’d put another finger inside me. Ira rapidly climbed up my body, reaching over me to the bedside table and pulling out a condom. He ripped it open and rolled it down him as fast as I’d ever seen.

Bringing my legs back up into position, he looked down at me.

“I can see you, Regan,” he said. “You’re more than this unassuming mask you present the world.”

The words should have sent chills splashing down my spine, but all I cared about was why he wasn’t fucking me yet.

“I wanted this to be slower, but I can tell that’s not what you need right now. But that’s okay, there’s more than one way.” Ira leaned down over me and whispered into my ear. “Here’s the thing about love making—sometimes love is about the pain.”

And with that, he slammed in to the hilt with one thrust. I threw my head back and screamed, a punch of sound that left my voice hoarse. His hips started pulling back almost as soon as he was fully seated, and then plunged back in before his backwards motion had really stopped. The pace was piston-fast and brutal, it felt like he was fucking my insides raw.

It was perfect.

The only lube was Ira’s spit and the little bit that came on the condom, and it wouldn’t be enough to save me from soreness in the morning. But right now, that was the furthest thing from my mind.

I tried to rise up and meet his thrusts, but with him crouched over me I couldn’t. But I tried anyway, bucking and rolling my hips as much as I could, fighting against his overpowering strength just for the hell of it. Just to feel the steel in his arms and know I wasn’t going anywhere until he let me. It should have been terrifying, it should have sent me on high alert. But heaven help me, I loved it.

He used my body like it was made for it, pounded away with abandon, like he could do anything he wanted and I wouldn’t say no. He molded me and bent me whatever way he wanted, pulling my legs apart and raising my hips up so he could go deeper, harder.

I came without touching myself, something like a howl spilling from my lips. My whole body just tensed in on itself, and my come was flying from my cock, splattering all over us. The contractions made my hole tighten, made Ira feel impossibly large inside me. And still he kept going, thrusting through my worn channel until it was almost too much. But then, though it shouldn’t have been possible, Ira got faster. His pace dissolved and he thrust with only the intention of getting off. I could tell when he did, he slammed forward and stayed balls deep in me, his whole body shaking.

As I came down I noticed he was staring up at the ceiling, hands still gripping tightly around my ankles. His body still trembled slightly.

“Ira,” I rasped, then cleared my throat and tried again. “Ira, you okay?”

“Yeah.” He let go of my legs and dropped on top of me. “I’m so more than okay.”

“Good.” I could barely think straight, let alone talk. The adrenaline loss hit me all at once as the rush faded. I yawned hugely, and Ira puffed out a weak laugh.

He shifted over off me. “C’mere,” he said, rolling me up and pulling me back against him.

I thought it would be awkward, cuddling, but it didn’t seem to be. We just fit together, chest to back, his arm around my waist, the press of his knees in the curve of mine. I guess I’m the little spoon. The thought made me giggle-snort.

“What’s so funny?” Ira breathed in my ear.

“Nothing,” I sighed sleepily.

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay,” I agreed.

And before I knew it, I was drifting off to sleep.