Читать книгу A Venetian Vampire - Michele Hauf - Страница 9

Chapter 2

Dante’s place was but a ten minute walk away. And while he wasn’t averse to hotel rooms, he preferred the homey comfort of his palazzo when entertaining such an intriguing woman. Along the way, Kyler had clasped his hand, and together they had almost run through the gaily lit, bustling Venetian streets. It was an exhilarating night. The moon sat high in the chrome-blue sky, and the air was heavy with the promise of rain. Streetlights beamed golden ribbons across dark palazzo windows and striped emerald hedgerows with glossy gold bands.

The woman with the curvaceous frame and lush, black Audrey Hepburn hair had suggested they have sex. It was his charm that had enticed her. Yes, he had it in spades and wasn’t afraid to wield it to get what he wanted.

And tonight? He wanted Kyler in his bed because that’s how he needed things to go down to accomplish his task. The surprise fact she was vampire was not so much a bonus as a creative challenge to his well-honed art of seduction. He rarely slept with vampires.

And yet he wanted her as much as she seemed to want him. Was he the one being led to bed by a new vampiress curious for the sexual bite?

Well, that was the challenge. If he bit a woman while having sex, he never saw her again. It was the way he rolled. And generally the bitten was human, or some other species of the paranormal. He had only once bitten another vampire. Too much was involved with such a piercing, such as emotional bonding. He didn’t need that kind of headache. Or the heartache.

Though he might like a taste of new blood. Just a little? Dare he break his decades-old rule of never indulging in vampire blood again? What could a sip hurt?

Ah! What was he thinking? He mentally walked five steps ahead of himself. This night must be carefully orchestrated. He mustn’t lose focus on the goal. And he must ensure she did.

“I live here,” he said with a tug at her hand to divert her from walking farther. The sidewalk was moist most of the time due to the proximity to the canal, and it gleamed black. He shoved the key in the lock on the palazzo door.

Kyler’s body heat hugged his arm and leg as she snuggled in close, wrapping an arm across his chest. It was an easy closeness that he would normally attribute to a few glasses of prosecco. But she wasn’t drunk. And he was glad for that.

“You smell great,” she said. “Like a wild autumn night.”

“And you curl about me like a kitty cat.” He’d never cared for the feline species. Until now.

He opened the door, and before he could invite her inside, she kissed him there on the threshold. Bold, unexpected and only a little tentative. She was finding her way, not afraid to dive into the unknown. Could she handle him?

Perhaps he should wonder if he could handle her.

What was he thinking? Of course he could.

“You’re not afraid of cats, are you?” she asked.

“Here, kitty, kitty,” he murmured against her mouth. “Come in.”

With the proper invite into his home, the vampiress crossed the threshold, and Dante lifted her. Chest to chest, she wrapped her legs about his hips and swung her backpack onto the eighteenth-century tufted jacquard divan pushed up against the wall. She sought his kiss hungrily.

Dante eyed the backpack as he closed the door. It would be fine there. However, he would not be fine until he’d stripped this woman bare and made a thorough exploration of every inch of her skin.

* * *

Dante carried Kyler to the top of the stairs and into the bedroom. Rain spattered the windows, shrouded by sheer white curtains. The palazzo was dark, but moonlight illuminated this room brightly. Kyler had time to notice a bed with a white comforter and a chair with gray fabric as he set her down on the bed and then stepped back.

He stood there looking at her, unabashed sex clothed in a stylish suit and classy red tie. Drink me in with your eyes, she thought. The darkness shadowed half his face, and while that made it easier to stand in front of his admiration, it also made her want to see all of him. To share the admiration.

“Kiss me,” she said, fighting a nervous rise in her voice. She would not punk out on this opportunity. Being a little nervous with a new lover was okay, she told herself. She tapped her lips. “Come here, vampire.”

“You don’t like me looking at you?” He adjusted the tie knot, loosening it a bit.

“I do. But you can look much better with your fingers.”

“True.” He leaned over her and tangled his fingers into the ends of her hair. “Lush and soft. Like you. Alone in Venice on an art expedition. How I do want to discover what makes Kyler Cole tick. I’ll start with unwrapping you.”

He slid her turtleneck up her stomach and over her breasts. Her hair spilled in static snaps to her bare shoulders, and she was thankful she’d worn a lacy demi bra. The lace-trimmed edge danced just above her nipples, and the rosy buds hardened under Dante’s warm and desirous gaze.

He leaned in, the red tie tickling her stomach, and when she thought he’d kiss her above her breasts—and she lifted them expectantly—he instead hushed an exhale over her skin. A breath of desire. A shiver of want tightened her nipples. At her sides, her fingers curled into wanting claws and then relaxed. Heartbeats quickened.

Dante’s tongue lashed her skin a teasing three inches away from the lace bra. Her moan was unstoppable.

“You sound like the kitten you are,” he said as he wrapped an arm across her back.

As he glided his fingers up her stomach and rib cage to the base of her bra, Kyler gripped the tie and pulled him closer. The silken weave of his suit playing across her skin made her wonder whether or not she wanted him to get naked or stay clothed. Suit against flesh was an exotic sensation that heightened her desire even more.

He kissed her on the mound of a breast and nuzzled his nose across her skin, taking in her perfume. Yet she wore none. Couldn’t risk giving herself away tonight had she gotten close to human guards at the auction house.

The auction house. She’d abandoned the backpack downstairs without a care. She really should—

Kyler gasped as Dante’s lips closed over her nipple, still covered by the black lace. The heat of him and the firm pressure as his tongue teasing through the lace undid her rational thought. Whatever she’d been worried about mattered less than falling into his attentive discovery.

One of his hands pushed down her black leggings, beneath which she did not wear panties. She’d been going for a seamless look. He growled his appreciation at that and then nudged down the lace bra cups to fully take her nipple into his mouth.

Mercy, if it didn’t go any further than this, she’d be a happy woman. But tonight, happy had already been superseded by elation. So she was in it for the win. And an orgasm or two.

Hiking up one of her legs along his thigh, Dante grasped her ankle and held her there. He suckled at her nipple, lazing his tongue in circles and then sucking hard. He indulged in her. He’d likely had a lot of practice in pleasing women—no!

She wasn’t going to think like that. It was just the two of them. And she intended to enjoy every moment of his attention.

Shoving the suit coat from his shoulders, Kyler was able to shimmy it down his arms even as he drew a wet, exploratory line to her other nipple. He managed to unhook her bra in the back, and it fell away. She was now completely naked, and he was still dressed.

Dante pulled back to look at her. A sexy, know-too-much smile curled his mouth, preceding a low, whispery growl. He had her right where he wanted her.

And she was good with that.

Kyler leaned up onto her elbows and crooked a finger, inviting him to join her. When he stepped forward, she waggled that finger in a naughty admonishment.

“First, you get naked, too,” she said. “I want to look at you as you’ve been looking at me.”

“I can do that. But you won’t mind if I pick up my coat, will you?” He bent to retrieve the abandoned piece of clothing, then carefully folded it and placed it over the back of the tufted Louis XIV chair near the window. He turned, unbuttoning his cuffs. “I appreciate the lines of a well-tailored suit.”

Kyler leaned her head against her palm. “I appreciate the lines of a well-honed male.”

Pulling away the red tie with a fling, he relegated it to the top of the folded suit coat. A few expert flicks of buttons released the crisp white business shirt from protecting his sculpted lines and curves. Hard muscles pulsed with his movement, and the rise of prominent hip bones drew her eye to the angled muscles that arrowed toward his crotch.

Kyler murmured a satisfied coo. “Nice.”

Dante paused, his fingers teasing at his trouser buttons. “If you’re going to narrate my undressing I’m not sure I can continue.”

“Really? You are the last person I would expect to be shy. But I can keep quiet.” She drew pinched fingers across her lips.

Dante nodded, gifting her with the rest of the show. Beneath the trousers he wore briefs that hugged—oh, a nice-size package. And it, too, pulsed beneath the fabric, teasing her with what might be revealed.

“Wait,” she said with more enthusiasm than his surprised look showed he was comfortable with. “Come here and let me help you with that.”

She sat up as he approached. Gliding her palm down his chest, she reveled in the warmth of his skin and muscles. Hadn’t she always thought vampires were supposed to be cold, dead creatures? Certainly she had not grown colder over the past half year. And being proven wrong once again was all right with her. Her fingers skimmed over Dante’s abdomen, a six-pack of ridiculously hard muscle. Each ridge tensed at her touch, begging her to move slowly, enjoy the sensation.

And then she moved her fingers downward and cupped over his briefs, drawing a hiss of pleasure from him. A squeeze to the form beneath her palm tested its hardness and heat. As he grew more erect, his penis bulged out the waistline of his briefs, and Kyler was able to slide a hand inside. She slid her other hand down the back of his briefs, easing them slowly over his buttocks. The weight of his steely erection in her hand made her feel powerful. Sexy. Wanton.

She giggled and then, before he could protest, tilted up her head to meet his mouth with a kiss. Hard and demanding and needy. As she worked her hand up and down over his erection, summoning him, coaxing him, she fed her own needs by dancing her tongue against his.

Every part of her being hummed. Her core spun in an apprehensive, wanting coil of soon-to-come fireworks and just-hold-off-a-bit warning. So she pressed her thighs together, staying the orgasm that already cried out for release.

Dante crawled over her and onto the bed, and she followed his direction, lying back, yet not releasing his hard, tight cock. She needed to feel him inside her. With that delicious thought, the curiosity to also feel his fangs inside her emerged.

“Show me your fangs,” she whispered.

“You’re not ready for that, Kitten.” A flash of lightning sparkled around the room brightly and blinked out, darkening Dante’s gaze above her. “Let’s do this slowly, shall we?”

And as a whimper of protest teased at the edge of her tongue, Kyler surrendered to his command. How could she not? His fingers slipped between her thighs, and as she noticed the first touch of his index finger to her clitoris, she was surprised by the overwhelming release of orgasm that rushed up in a gasping cry of joy. Her body shivered and shook beneath his.

And she forgot about the bite.

“You come like the lightning,” he said against her ear. “And you smell like rain and prosecco. I will always remember you this way.”

With the thought that this was the beginning to the end of what had been a very daring encounter on her part, Kyler pulled his hips to her and directed his cock inside her. He filled her, hot and hard and thrusting.

She’d known this night would be a hookup. In the morning, she’d walk away and never see him again. And she was fine with that.

But not really.

* * *

Kittens and cream, Dante thought as Kyler’s moist warmth clasped tightly about his cock. He thrust inside her as she orgasmed, and her rhythmic, squeezing pressure lured him toward his own swift climax. Two strangers came together in an irresistible crush of skin, sighs and sexual fire. He couldn’t argue the results.

Shouting out as the tremendous orgasm shook through his system, he bowed his head to Kyler’s breast and kissed the firm, hot flesh. His fangs descended without his volition. Damn. As quickly, he willed them back up. He was less ready for the fang reveal than she seemed to be. And it wasn’t necessary. He wasn’t hungry for anything other than more of Kyler’s exquisite body undulating and moaning beneath him.

He’d fucked bold women, many a time. Kyler wasn’t as bold as she thought. Some parts of her skipped along for the good time while he suspected another part of her hadn’t expected such an encounter. She hid her nervousness well, though. And right now, she completely surrendered to the moment.

So lush, lying beneath him as though she were a goddess demanding worship. And worship her he would.

Pulling out from her, he glided down her body, trailing his tongue from one breast to the other and then taking the time to study the full curve on the underside of each breast. At her belly, he tickled a circle around her navel, then moved quickly south to taste her sticky sweetness.

Her fingers skimmed over his scalp and down his neck, nails digging in when they reached his shoulder. Yes, just a little deeper—he tongued her as deeply as he desired to feel her nails in his skin. Kyler moaned and then the exquisite pain was gone as she grasped the bedsheets.

“Yes,” she whispered in a purr.

Again Dante’s fangs ached to descend, but he cautioned them to stay put. He wouldn’t bite her. Not yet. He didn’t even know this woman, and if all went well, come morning he would never see her again.

A bite would only complicate things.

* * *

Kyler slid out from the rumpled white sheets and glanced over at the man stretched across the bed like a fallen angel. Dante D’Arcangelo? Oh, yes, indeed. He was some kind of dark angel. And an amazing lover. Whew! She’d made a good choice in taking him home with her. Or rather, she was at his palazzo.

But she mustn’t get lost in the feel-good vibrations. She’d gotten what she wanted: a night of celebratory sex with a handsome lover. A new day glimmered on the shiny rooftops across the canal. And she knew better than to believe she actually meant more to him than a hookup.

While he slept, she had to get out of Dodge. Gathering up her clothes from the floor, she headed toward the en suite bathroom. The sun shone on the canal beyond the sheer white curtains. It was still quite dark, but thanks to a skylight, she didn’t bother to turn on the light to check her makeup in the mirror. That was one thing she missed about being human—her reflection. And while she’d never been a Narcissus, mirrors did come in handy when applying eyeliner.

After running water in the sink until it was warm, she splashed her face and found a hand towel in the linen closet. She wanted to look around, to satisfy her curiosity about the dark angel who was really a vampire, but there wasn’t time. And she’d left her backpack down in the foyer, not wanting to seem overly concerned about it last night and prompt him to ask unanswerable questions.

Pulling up her black leggings and then the long-sleeved turtleneck, she again lamented her wardrobe choice.

“You do look like a cat burglar,” she whispered. “Who do you think you are fooling?”

Apparently, one very sexy French-Italian vampire.

Carefully pulling open the door, she peered across the whitewashed hardwood floor over to the bed...

“Where is he?”

The bed was empty. And her flat, rubber-soled shoes designed for sneaking into locked buildings and up along windowsills sat at the foot of the bed. Had he gone looking for her? No, he must have heard her in the bathroom. Probably he’d headed down to—well, vampires didn’t do breakfast. They didn’t need to eat food.

Drinking blood was the only sustenance a vampire required for survival. Something she’d learned to relish after initially balking at the strong, meaty flavor. Quickly she’d learned to treat the taste like wine. So many appellations and flavor notes. Humans offered a cornucopia of tastes she’d never tire of experiencing.

And if all went well, soon she could claim that taste for an eternity.

She’d wanted to bite Dante last night.

He was so irresistible. Would a little bite have hurt? He’d insisted it wasn’t something she was ready for. Why, though? Too intimate? Perhaps. Kyler guessed even though Dante claimed a mastery with women, intimacy was well out of his repertoire. So she’d have to live without a taste of her dark angel. This had been a one-night stand. A satisfying reward for a job well done. A memory to keep.

And now to make her escape without some drawn-out explanation or an awkward goodbye. Damn, she wished he’d still been sleeping.

After slipping on her flats, Kyler strolled down the hallway to the stairs. At the bottom of the stairs a worn fieldstone floor stretched to the right and into the foyer. The stones were as dark as the gray-painted walls. She’d not noticed the dark decor last night. She’d had her arms and legs wrapped around Dante. And her mouth on his. And, oh...his mouth all over her skin as they’d made fantastic love to each other. He had worshipped her body.

As she veered toward the divan where she’d dropped the backpack, the shadows receded into a beam of subdued morning light. With a startled gasp, she noticed Dante sat there. With the backpack dangling from his fingers.

And it was open.