Crouching Vampire, Hidden Fang

"So he just dropped that bombshell on you, and then went to bed?"

Magda and Raymond were seated in the chairs around a small round table in one corner of the hotel room, rapt expressions on both their faces.

"Well, it wasn't quite that quick, but yes, basically, he said he believed that Frederic knew who the Ilargi was, and was tolerating him because he eliminated the need for Zoryas."

"I'm not sure I understand your explanation of why this director fellow is doing what you say he's doing," Raymond said, his brows pulled together as he tried to puzzle out everything.

"You would not be alone in that," Kristoff said as he passed me. He was pacing the room, his face abstracted with thought, obviously thinking about the plan for the following day.

I sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard. I badly wanted to get Kristoff next to me, but knew full well that I wouldn't be able to stop touching him should I do so. I closed my eyes for a moment, the faint scent of him teasing my nose, stirring the craving I had to taste him, to feel his tongue sliding along mine, to run my fingers along the smooth, silky lines of his back and chest, to caress the muscles that lay so heavily under his skin, begging for touches and kisses and long, loving strokes of my tongue.

If you truly want me to bed you right here and now, continue with those thoughts. Particularly the one involving your tongue.

I sat upright, blinking. Sorry. Got a little carried away there. I didn't mean for you to overhear that. Just ignore it.

Ignore it? Ignore it? Woman, just being near you leaves me hard. I'm getting used to having a perpetual erection, but you don't have to make things worse by indulging in fantasies that almost drive me insane with need.

I said I was sorry, I answered with a little smile to myself.

"Pia?"

"Hmm?" With an effort, I dragged my mind from the contemplation of Kristoff's erection to the subject at hand.

The day my penis ceases to be the subject at hand is the day I give up living.

"Oh, sorry. Um. Oh, Frederic."

I giggled into Kristoff's mind and tried to look thoughtful, and not in the least bit like someone who was remembering that she owed the man she loved a blow job that would knock his socks off.

That's it! Kristoff marched into the bathroom and slammed shut the door.

Magda looked in surprise at the door. "What's wrong with him?"

"Er... nothing. He's just a bit distracted."

For which I have you to thank!

Hush. Go dip Sparky into some cold water so we can talk about what to do.

"Why doesn't he want Zoryas to be around?" Raymond asked. "The director, that is."

"He does, but only doing his bidding, not messing with something useful, like doing their original job."

"Oh." He thought about that for a moment. "I suppose that makes sense. Kind of."

"It does to me," Magda said, stretching as she smothered a yawn. "I'm just glad you guys got out of that all right. I was about to call in the police when the vampires showed up. I tell you, Pia, those reapers are just downright nasty. Ray and I ran off to get help the second we spotted the first one, but we got separated, and the reapers who grabbed me were saying all sorts of things about me having been dirtied by you and that I needed cleansing. Who knows what they might have done if your vampires hadn't shown up?"

"Only one of them is mine, and I had no idea about the others, because someone didn't tell me his super-secret plan, but that's a lecture for another day."

"Mm-hmm." Magda yawned again.

Raymond stood up. "We should get to bed, sweet-heart. Sounds like tomorrow is going to be a very big day."

I slid off the bed and accompanied them to the door. "I know you said you wouldn't miss it, but this plan the vampires have is likely to be dangerous. It probably would be best-"

Magda snorted loudly, giving me a quick hug to take the sting out of the gesture. "Don't be silly. We're in this for the long haul, aren't we, punkin?"

"Oh, definitely. Only... well, don't you think that we need some equipment?" Raymond asked, frowning.

"What kind of equipment?" Magda asked.

"Oh, I don't know," he said, waving his hands in a vague gesture. "High-tech stuff. You know, the sort people use to break into places. Detectors and scanners and things like that. The sort of stuff Tom Cruise would have if he were going to do the job."

Another one who watches too much television and movies. Kristoff sighed into my mind. Is that all you mortals do? Do none of you read anymore?

Stop eavesdropping. I'm not a radio receiver. And for the record, I have more overdue library books than anyone in my town.

"Come on, sugar pants. Let's go back to our room. I'll hum the Mission: Impossible theme for you while you stealth your way into bed."

The sound of Raymond's laughter trailed after them as they left.

I closed the door, leaning against it to look at Kristoff as he emerged from the bathroom. "Alone at last, I guess."

He didn't waste any time. One moment he was standing across the room; the next he was smooshing me up against the door.

"You will take off that ridiculous outfit now," he demanded, his eyes the color of lapis lazuli.

I wriggled against him, breathing in the wonderful scent that coiled around me. I tried once again to pinpoint what it was, but decided it was just Kristoff, and nothing more. "I don't know whether to be flattered that you think other men are going to ogle the amplitude that is me, or amused that you're jealous. I think I'll go with both. But before I take off my clothes and let you feed-and don't deny you need blood, because even if I couldn't feel the hunger gnawing inside you, the state of Alec's floor made it quite clear you lost a lot of blood-before I do that, I have something I want to say to you."

His lips thinned slightly. "You wish to berate me for not telling you about the pact."

"No. Well, yes, but I've moved past that," I said as I kissed the cleft in his chin before leaning into his mouth, whispering on his lips, "I love you, Kristoff. I love you passionately, happily, wholly, wonderfully. I love you despite the fact that you didn't tell me about the pact or share your concerns about Frederic. I love you even though you wouldn't haven chosen me to be your Beloved."

He started to protest. I put my fingers across his lips.

"I love you now, I'll love you half an hour from now, and, assuming I really am immortal, I'll love you a hundred years from now. Nothing will change that."

He hesitated a moment before his arms went around me, pulling my hips close to his as his mouth took charge of the little nibbling kisses I was scattering along his lips. I gave myself up to the pleasure he stirred within me, but one part of me, one tiny part of my heart, wept at his hesitation.

I could feel the emotion in him, and knew it had to be regret that he couldn't love me in return.

"Never say I would not have chosen you," he murmured into my collarbone, his lips blazing a path that left me shivering with anticipation. "You are everything a Beloved should be."

"Too much talking," I said, touched by his sweetness, and aroused at the same time, gasping when he hit the spot behind my ear that always melted me. I yanked up the tail of his shirt, sliding my hands under the fluid material to stroke his equally silky skin.

He stopped for a moment to help me rid him of his shirt before his hands returned to yank off the T-shirt, his hands immediately returning to cup my now highly sensitized breasts. I bit the heavy muscles of his shoulder, licking away the sting . I've got no complaints about you, either. I'm another story, but you're fine.

I do not find you anything but delectable- he started to say.

I know, I know. You like me. I appreciate that fact. But you're so incredibly handsome, Kristoff. Women stop and look at you when you walk by. I know; I've seen them. I can't help but feel that you deserve to be seen with someone who isn't quite so pudgy. Not that I'm going to give you up, but I still can't help but feel that way.

Now you have angered me, he said, and I could feel the truth behind the statement. I deserve you , woman. Now stop being insecure and tell me you love me again.

I love you-oh, dear God, yes, right there. I quivered for a moment in his arms as his mouth descended on a now bare breast, the sensation of his tongue and teeth and lips on such sensitive flesh radiating outward until I was one gigantic erogenous zone . I'm not insecure. I'm just a realist. Oh, and stop.

He pulled back, his eyes dark with passion, but also containing a distinctly wild look. Stop? Now? Right now? Or later, after we're finished? I will stop later, if you like. Later is better.

I grinned and pointed to the bed. "Stop for a moment, Boo. Take off your pants and lie down."

He narrowed his eyes. "You're not going to try to get the upper hand on me again, are you?"

"Oh, this hand is definitely upper," I answered, raising my hand before pointing to the bed again. "And you owe me. You had it your own way in the Blue Lagoon, and now I get to have my turn."

"You liked my way," he pointed out, but shucked the remainder of his clothing.

"Of course I did. Didn't you notice me walking funny? But now it's your turn, and I intend to return the compliment. Bed, please. And close your eyes."

He lay down on the bed, his arms behind his head, those lovely teal eyes of his now a glittering, rich indigo. He frowned as I started to slip out of the pants but then paused, glancing toward him.

"You're not going to start that again, are you?"

"I'm not insecure, but I might have one teensy, tiny issue with being naked," I told him, quickly removing the pants, but clutching them in front of me so he couldn't see all the bulgy parts.

"That's an understatement."

"Fine, then. It won't be nearly as much fun if you insist on keeping your eyes open, but have it your way. Turn off the light."

"No."

"Kristoff-" I started to say, but he interrupted me, sitting up on the bed.

"I want to see you."

"And I don't want you to see me. There's far too much to be seen, and frankly, I'd rather not spend the rest of eternity dieting because you want to stand around and look at my pudge."

"I'm sitting, not standing, and I like looking at you."

I clutched the pants tighter, frowning at the absurdity of the situation. "You can't look at me until I've dropped at least two dress sizes. Possibly three."

"I've seen you already," he pointed out, a hint of a smile on his lips. I was distracted for a moment by those lips, but managed to pull my mind back in the nick of time.

"Only briefly, and only because I wanted to see if you were going to run screaming from the room at the sight of my overabundance."

He rolled his eyes. "I know you don't wish to hear about my past relationships with women, but you might be interested to know that the first woman I slept with was shaped just as you're shaped. She was delicious in every way, and I lusted after her from the time my voice changed until the day I was married."

I blinked at him, not sure what to say to that. "You lusted after a fat lady?"

"No. I lusted after a wonderfully voluptuous woman, one whose curves tempted me into exploring them, a woman whose silky skin beckoned my mouth to taste the delights that only she could offer. I worshiped the breasts that were made for my hands only, paid homage to the sublime beauty of her hips and belly, and would have given up my most prized possession to caress her shapely, enticing thighs."

"Oh, wow," I breathed, my entire body tingling at the words. "Who was she?"

"The woman I lusted after all those hundreds of years ago? The wife of the lord who ruled my mother's town," he said, his eyes molten with desire.

I swallowed, my throat tight with yearning. "Lucky lady."

"The woman I was describing, however, is you." He leaned forward. "You make the lord's wife pale by comparison, Pia. The body you view as unattractive leaves me breathless with desire. The curves you dislike drive me insane with the need to touch and taste them. The softness you deplore leaves me wild with a carnal desire to bite you."

My mouth dropped open for a moment as I looked down at myself. "I know you're hungry, but-"

"Not that sort of bite," he said, an excitingly wolfish look in his eyes as he crawled across the bed toward me. "I do not need to see you to want to feed from you. But when I see your body, see those delicious curves beckon and entice me, when I feel your softness pressed against me, welcoming me, it makes me want to bite. I want to mark you as mine so that all other males will know they cannot have you. I want to possess you, Pia, in the most primitive and profound way a male can possess a female. I want to mate with you. I want to make love to you. I want you for my own, my woman, the other half of me. Would you truly deny me that pleasure?"

He had been pouring into my brain all the images and sensations and emotions that followed his words, primitive emotions, as he warned, possessive and dominating and at the same time protective, all of which swirled in and around me, leaving me keyed up like a bomb about to explode. "God, no!" I yelled, and threw the pants at the chair, all but ripping off my underwear as I flung myself onto him.

He caught me in a tangle of arms and legs and breasts and a hard, hot penis that pressed against me as I squirmed on him, trying to kiss and caress and lick every spot of him I could reach, all while he did the same.

What followed wasn't the controlled lovemaking I had planned, with just enough oral sex to drive him insane, then a long, slow loving. No, this was primal and earthy, a meeting of flesh and a merging of souls, a frenzied mating of two people who knew beyond all doubt that they were intended to be together. Wild and unmindful of all inhibitions, I threw caution to the wind, and tasted and touched and licked, and allowed him to do the same. He probed and teased and tormented until I was writhing with ecstasy, trying to reciprocate, needing to drive him just as hard and furious as he was driving me.

By the time he lifted me over his poised erection, I was almost sobbing with the joy of the moment, my body singing as he plunged me downward, my muscles rippling around the hard brand of his penis as it invaded my depths, his hips thrusting it deeper than anyone had been before. He pulled me down to his chest as he bucked upward, his teeth piercing the flesh of my breast as an orgasm swept over me, catching me in its breathless grip and spiraling me out of control. His voice sounded hoarsely in my ears as he gave in to his own climax, his experience merging with mine, sending us both flying.

As I lay on his damp, panting body, one thought emerged in my rapture-numbed mind: No matter what Angelica had been to him, I knew with absolute certainty that she had never given him the ecstasy that he found in my arms.

I drifted off to sleep comforted by that idea, which was tainted only by the nagging, growing conviction that it would not be enough.