CHAPTER ELEVEN
The smell of eggs basted in butter woke her up. Before she could open her eyes, she realized Dick was under the blankets with her. Then she felt his mouth on her neck, felt brief pain as his fangs broke the skin. She tried to push him away, but he carefully pinned her down and held her to the bed while he drank. She had no leverage and could only lie beneath him and fume while he took from her.
"You piece of shit," she said directly into his ear.
He laughed against her throat. "That's the problem, Jane m'love. If you screamed or cried, I'd have no interest in you—I'd want to be rid of you as quickly as possible. But you're fearless, and furious, and it works on me like an aphrodisiac. Which is why you have to be my wife."
"I'd rather eat my own heart."
He licked the bite mark on her neck, then nuzzled the tender spot. Which did not feel good. Which did not make her want to shiver and show throat. "That's a rather disturbing visual. Did you sleep well? I admit I was astonished you weren't lying in wait ready to strangle me with the sash from one of your robes."
"Strangle? Bullshit. Too clean, not painful enough, and it takes too long.”
“And with that, I fell in love with you all over again.”
She squashed the urge to giggle. “I'd rather wait until you dropped your guard. Then you'll be sorry."
He rested his forehead against hers, his face so close it was entirely out of focus. "You’re delightful."
"I'm going to skin you alive,” she explained to his nose. “Then I'm going to set your skin on fire. Then I'm going to roast your skinless body over the fire I made with your skin. Then I’m going to feed you to the mangiest, rangiest dogs I can find. Then I’m going to—“
"I believe I’m following your train of thought. Umm..." His cool mouth closed over one of her nipples, and she brought her fist down on top of his head, hard. Then yelped when he bit her. "Sorry! I’m so sorry," he said, pulling back and rubbing the top of his head. "That was you, not me. You hit me so hard my teeth nearly clacked together."
"You thought that was hard? Just wait," she said ominously.
He kissed her wrist, her pulse point, and then the crook of her elbow. She balled a fist and got ready to sock him again. If he shifted his weight just right, she might be able to get a knee into his groin at the same time. The sounds he’d make as he folded in on himself would make her weekend.
"Jane, as delightful as last night was—for me, anyway—I'd rather not tie you up again."
“So thoughtful!” She punched him square in the face, a poor blow with her lack of leverage, but his head rocked back anyway, which was gratifying. He went on as if nothing had happened. "So let's make a deal, you and I. I won't tie you up, and you won't fight me when I feed. As of now," he amended. “I am aware that you kept your word last night and thus we’re even—“
“We are so not even.”
“—so now I’d like to negotiate further meals.”
"Ugh, where to even start with all the crazy crap you just said.” Wait. Let’s focus on the best part of the crazy. “You won't tie me up?" she asked suspiciously. "But I have to let you feed and fuck me?"
He looked pained. "Yes."
She pretended to think it over, but it was an easy decision. She could stand almost anything but being tied down. It went against her very nature, made her want to bite somebody. "Okay. I won't punch or bite or kick or scratch or disembowel, and you won't get out the elastic bubble gum."
"And you'll kiss me back."
"Fuck right off."
"All right, I will do all the kissing for both of us." He smiled at her, put a hand on the back of her neck, and pulled her to him.
"What, I can't eat first?” she complained. Eggs in butter! Toast! And oh my God oh my God bacon! Close, it was all maddeningly close. “This deal blows."
"Later, Jane. I'm begging you." His mouth was slightly warm, and his tongue slipped past her teeth to stroke hers. She felt his hand cup one of her breasts, testing the weight of it, and then his thumb was rubbing her nipple.
She wriggled as best she could, pushing more of her breast into his palm. "So the quicker you get off, the quicker I can have eggs and bacon and toast and more bacon and also a milkshake?"
He sighed. "You're killing the mood."
"What mood? I'm a prisoner, for fuck's sake. And I'm hungry.” Hard to tell which was more aggravating at this point, and what that said about her she didn’t want to contemplate.
"Oh, for—" But he let go of her and she bounded off the bed. She wolfed down her breakfast in under five minutes while he laid on the bed and watched her with his fingers laced behind his head and an expression of disbelief. She got up, wiped her mouth with a napkin, tossed it over her shoulder, and climbed back into bed.
"All right, then," she said, infinitely more cheerful.
He smiled at her. "All right, then." He reached out, took her hand, and led her to the bathroom.
*****
Ten minutes later, they were in his gigantic bathtub and the floor was soaked. Her legs were spread wide and resting on each rim of the tub, and she was gripping the sides so tightly her knuckles ached. Richard was beneath the water, nuzzling and tonguing and gently stroking her cunt in, out, around. He'd been down there for five minutes, and she was about ready to lose her mind.
Now his tongue was inside her, and one of his fingers was worming into her ass. She'd never been interested in assplay—the idea had always squicked her right out—but the sensation of his long finger sliding up inside her while his tongue darted and stabbed and licked her cunt made her throb. And how was he doing this? What she didn’t know about sex could fill a web page, but she’d read that it was difficult in a tub, that what looked romantic in the movies was cramped, crowded, and the water washed everything away and why was she wondering how he was doing this when she could be enjoying what he was doing?
Her muffled groans (for her teeth were tightly clenched) bounced off the bathroom tile. And though she could quell most of her sounds, she had no control over her reflexes and had started to thrust her hips at his face, chasing sensation. So close, Jesus. Come on, come on, I’m right there...
He rose, water dripping down his pale skin, blue eyes burning, and grinned at her. He pulled her up to him and growled, "Now you'll kiss me."
She did, without hesitation. He sucked her tongue into his mouth as he took himself in hand and rubbed his cock against her sopping cunt. She moaned into his mouth and strained toward him. He tore his mouth from hers, sought her neck, and she felt him bite her just as his cock thrust inside. The combination of sensations—slight pain, swamping pleasure—made her come so hard she bucked against him, and another gallon of water sloshed over the side of the tub.
"Jane, my Jane," he growled against her throat. "Oh, that's very good. I could do this all night."
"Better...not..." she managed. "It'll kill me."
He laughed and leaned back. She was still spread up against the sloping end of the tub; they were connected only by his cock. He ran his hands over her soapy breasts, smiling as she groaned again and squirmed beneath him. "You are going to marry me, my darling. Believe it."
"Why don’t you...stop talking...and finish fucking?"
He grinned, flashing fangs, and obliged. When he finished she was indecently satisfied, and there was only a few inches of water left in the tub.