CHAPTER TEN
Paul Henry had been called astute. Shrewd. Aloof. Non-emotional. A few ex-girlfriends had given him worse names. According to his nannies, he’d been born with this personality. Everyone along the line of his upbringing had agreed. He didn’t care. He had a destiny to fulfill. Success was the primary goal, everything else secondary. In his viewpoint, leaders didn’t have time for weaknesses. That included emotion. Remorse. And they didn’t vacillate. Decisions were made and, if necessary, altered. They weren’t discarded and changed and then re-made on a whim. Yet, the moment he’d met Eska, he’d been going back and forth like a see-saw. It had to stop. He knew exactly how to do it, too. It was part of his nature, despite appearances to the contrary.
Facts.
Focus.
Paul Henry was extremely good at compartmentalizing. Everything could be catalogued and put into perspective. That included interactions with the opposite sex. His life was already scripted. There was barely room in it for an eventual wife, and none whatsoever for this.
He was not Eska’s mate. She was mistaken. As far as he was concerned, if a vampire fancied him as her mate, then that was her problem. Just as he’d told her earlier, he had one objective tonight – her sexual satisfaction. And then he was leaving.
Decision made.
Yet again.
Her bed was large. Firm. Bouncy. Good thing, since he launched backward onto it with her in his arms. The structure groaned. Rocked. Then settled into place. All of it failing to mask any of Eska’s perfection. She was impossibly flawless. Her skin felt like satin. Warmed. Pristine. He couldn’t even spot a freckle. Her size was another bit of rightness. Paul Henry had gained several inches of height and a lot of muscle in college. Some at the family estate commented on his continuing growth with pride. He’d been secretly pleased as well. Height was an asset in any business situation. Six foot two was an optimum height. Anything over that - a bonus. And he could well afford new clothing with longer inseams, bigger chest measurements, and wider neck widths.
Right now, his extra growth was a decided plus. Eska was a tall woman. They fit as though designed with that purpose in mind. Her breasts pressed to his pecs. Her hips aligned with his. A kiss within easy reach.
Oh. He’d been right.
Perfect.
Eska had a spectacular bosom, too. Paul Henry unclasped her brassiere within moments of landing, placed a hand to her back so they could roll, positioning her beneath him. Her bra settled uselessly across her. Paul Henry shoved the lace-bedecked garment aside, scooped up one perfect breast, lifted it for delectation, lowered his head to her nipple...and tasted. She jerked the moment he licked, the move lifting them several inches. The mattress rocked with their return.
“Oh, Henry. Henry. Oh, my. My. My!”
Her voice went through a range of tones and octaves as his tongue found her nipple again. This time he suckled, huffed his amusement at her cries, all done amidst a lot of squirming. Her enjoyment added a dimension he’d never experienced. It altered things. It may even affect his brain chemistry...
Or something worse.
His canines experienced a tingling sensation. He concentrated. Focused. And it worked. A swift check with his tongue proved it. Fang growth was controllable. But it wasn’t easy.
He released his hold on her breast, moved his hand down her belly, across velvety skin that trembled beneath his fingers. She wore little lacy panties. The side strap tore without a hint of effort. It might as well be paper. His breath caught. Hers matched. And then his fingers found her center. Touched her nub. Started vibrating.
Eska caught a gasp. And shot upward.
Her outcry filled the chamber with sound. Tremors ruptured through them, while her lurches lifted them higher. But that wasn’t the strangest part. A stab of something truly gratifying shot through Paul Henry, bringing a stinging sensation to his eyes. It was swift. Undeniable. Incredibly alien. Gone almost the moment he felt it.
Careful, Paul Henry.
This Eska had a lot in her arsenal and each weapon was more devastating. His canines tingled warningly again. He set his jaw, locked his mind, focused, and somehow forced the teeth into abeyance again. It took every ounce of will at his command to do it, too.
He was shuddering with effort as her cry ended. Barely felt their drift back down. The mattress swayed. The bedstead creaked.
“Oh, Henry. Oh, my. Henry. That was—. Oh, Henry.”
Her voice trembled. Her tone worshipped. But it grated on his ears. He knew why. The name was wrong. He was frowning as his fingers started moving again. Faster this time. More intently. And, when he had her nearing another peak, he slid two fingers into her cavern.
Oh.
Wow.
She was hot. Wet. And so tight. Her breath raced. So did his. Hers was accompanied by the sweetest moans. He was grunting. And this time, it wasn’t a cry erupting from her throat. It was louder. Higher-pitched. And went on for a long time. Her lunging lifted them again, too, this time so high the ascent stopped only when they bumped against the ceiling.
The sound faded. Her features calmed. Her eyes opened. She looked at him in disbelief for a moment. And then she lowered her lashes, sucked her lower lip into her mouth, and smiled. It was the most beatific expression he’d ever witnessed.
A rush of pleasure smacked him with a force that stunned. Paul Henry’s heart leapt into his throat, affecting breathing, and there the damned thing stayed, pounding away for long moments, before finally subsiding. He’d never experienced anything like it. His face probably reflected it. He was in luck she wasn’t looking. Because if she’d seen...?
He didn’t finish the thought. It was pointless. He already had this episode assigned. It was not a love tryst. It was a necessity. A chore. Done in order to gain his freedom. He wouldn’t allow anything to change that deduction. He couldn’t. Not if he wanted to return to sanity. Normalcy. Real life.
They floated back to the mattress. The landing was so soft he’d have missed it if his limbs hadn’t brushed against the coverlet.
“Oh, Henry. Oh, my. That was. Oh...Henry.”
The words carried an awed note, but they grated worse. He reacted instantly. “It’s Paul Henry,” he informed her.
Oh, my bloody hell!
Had he lost his mind? And why wasn’t there any notice before it happened? You didn’t give the enemy ammunition like this!
Oh, shit.
Shit.
As he watched, her fangs grew longer, the tips slipping well past her bottom lip. His heart stopped. Frost grabbed his veins. His pulse hammered against his skull with the force of a smithy striking an anvil. Paul Henry was statue-still. Every muscle locked. In the back of his mind it penetrated that this was not what he’d envisioned for a last moment on the planet. He shouldn’t be wrapped in an aura of provocation. Skin-to-skin with a siren of sensual delight. His fingers in the most intimate of contacts. His body and emotions astir with all sorts of foreign things...like passion. Intensity.
Extreme arousal.
She took her time looking back toward him. Caught his gaze. A shudder scored him that he instantly staunched and then conquered. Any reaction was stupid. It didn’t matter if he wasn’t prepared. There wasn’t any way to accomplish that. She could rip his throat out. Slam his heart into arrhythmia. Drain his every drop of blood.
She had the vampiric powers here.
He’d be lucky to give her a decent challenge.
Her smile came again, wider this time. Much less timid. Her dark eyes twinkled with an expression he couldn’t identify. She looked pleased.
And that was truly scary.
Eska licked her lips, catching his glance for a moment on her fangs.
Oh, damn. Those things looked lethal. Paul Henry steeled himself for a death blow.
“Paul Henry.”
She purred his name. He blinked several times in quick succession. Stared. Cleared his throat to answer. Thought better of it. Settled with giving a single nod.
“Now, that is a sexy name. It definitely fits you, too.”
She didn’t know the name?
Oh.
Balls.
He’d been told how it felt to dodge a bullet. Narrowly escape. Get a second chance. Those descriptions were all completely inadequate. What might be intense relief warred with a tsunami of other emotions. Hard steel engulfed by a hurricane of feathers. A wall of ice melting against a firestorm. He’d never felt such a mix of sensations. The level alone was frightening. It pulled him in every direction at once, yet nothing showed.
How was that even possible?
“Paul Henry. Paul Henry. Oh. How perfect. Paul Henry. Paul Henry. Paul Henry. Mmm. Paul Henry.”
She stirred against his fingers with each repetition of his name, the sound, so sweet! Her actions even sweeter. Paul Henry automatically moved his fingers again. Deeper. Faster. His heart ramped up again. His breathing quickened. And his canine teeth throbbed as though royally aggravated. He tried to force them back into submission. Mind over matter. Same as before. It didn’t work.
What in the blazes?
His body was an enemy now, too? Why was everything backfiring?
Why?
Unanswerable questions flew through his brain and then dissipated, lost somewhere in the ozone. His fangs elongated. Sharpened. A touch of his tongue to them proved both. He tried harder.
Damn it!
Eska was alive with motion. This time, they didn’t rise from the mattress. Paul Henry wouldn’t have allowed it, and he had command somehow. Her movements went to ballistic level. She grabbed a breath, lifted her chin and sent a long scream into the chamber. The sound swirled about them, as if a wind-filled entity whirled about, snuffing out candles. Lifting hair. Cooling skin. Her act had done something more, too. It put her neck on display. Her throat drew his gaze, the skin...so perfect. A rapid pulse pounded beneath flesh as he watched.
One lick shouldn’t matter.
Just one.
Paul Henry lowered his mouth, licked her skin, and then, despite everything, he stabbed into her throat. And sucked.
Oh! Baby!
Liquid ecstasy filled his mouth, burst through his senses, ripped through his subconscious. The world went completely off-kilter. All manner of sensations blew through him, obliterating his lessons. Warnings. Decisions. Every thought fled, except one. Meshing his body with Eska. Now. Right now.
It wasn’t just need. This was a physical requirement.
And it was massive.
The pleasure from taking her fluid defied logic. It sent throes of absolute magic. Then, something in the back of his mind actually registered. He mustn’t go too far. He pulled away from her neck reluctantly. Lifted his head. Eska seemed to be watching for it. She licked her lips, highlighting her spikes. And then she smiled.
A missile whooshed through his chest cavity, spreading sparks. It slammed past his heart, and went down his belly as if aimed for his groin. Paul Henry smacked his free hand to the mattress, denting it. Lifted enough to navigate. Each move was rapid. Reactionary. His other hand grabbed the waistband of the expensive boxer briefs. He pulled. Tugged. Got frustrated. Then angered. That emotion triggered even more weirdness. The nails he kept manicured and short grew, became talons. He didn’t look to verify. He felt it happen. He stuck them beneath his waistband, stabbed outward through cotton spandex, and ripped the damned garment open. Tremors filled his rotations back and forth to push the briefs down, freeing him. Ripping the briefs even more. He didn’t have time to waste on this shit.
Heaven awaited him. Moist. Hot. Readied.
He scraped his thigh, stopped at the sting. Within seconds, his nails retracted. What in the hell? And how? Eska moaned, stealing any vestige of thought. Her body surged up against his. She wrapped her silk-stocking-covered limbs about his hips. Then pressed against him, her loins so wet. Open. Shivering.
Ready.
He couldn’t wait a second longer. Her entrance more than beckoned. Paul Henry pushed. And oh! The woman was beyond perfect. Coils of heat surrounded him, alternately pulling and massaging. She was so tight. So firm. Paul Henry grabbed her hips. Thrust. Reached her core, filling her. And pulsed in place with the flush of success.
Holy shit.
The fit was amazingly perfect. Incalculably pleasurable. Beyond compare. It wasn’t possible to contain how it felt. He arched upward to howl the satisfaction. He felt her hands, palms flattened against his pecs, as if he needed buttressing. His voice hoarsened before he ran out of breath. Something rattled. More candles got snuffed out. Paul Henry lowered his chin, snagged her gaze, held it for the barest moment…and then he started withdrawing. Slowly. Lingeringly.
“Oh, Paul Henry! Oh!”
Her legs tightened about him, and she shoved, as if trying to hasten their joining. He was not allowing that to happen, despite the instinctive moves his body attempted. Something else had been in charge since he’d met her. It was passionate. Dangerous. Hot. With a sharp edge that demanded all kinds of foreign responses from him. For a master of self-dominion, it was sobering.
But he was not letting it prevail.
Not yet.
His body had always been controlled by his mind. Not vice-versa. He knew how to work this. He went over it again. Go slowly. Conserve energy. Use his stamina wisely. Orchestrate, not participate. This was an all-night engagement – the lone one they’d ever have. He wouldn’t succeed if he lost control. Started dominating.
He hovered at the point of withdrawal. Trembling. Tensed. Holding back. It was tortuous, but necessary. Everything depended on his ability to control this. Paul Henry moved finally, working his way back, alternately erupting in goose bumps and shudders. Oh. This felt unbelievably divine. As if Eska had been created especially for him.
He filled her again. Waiting a few moments. Pulled back out. Slowly maneuvered back in.
Only to withdraw.
Push back in.
Her soft cries incited, as did the pulsing pressure that surrounded and enveloped. This was incredible. Unique. Fantastic. Paul Henry set his jaw, ignoring the pinprick of pain as his lower lip got sliced. It no longer mattered if he had fangs. Nothing mattered except control and command. He was determined to pleasure the goddess before him. The mattress started swaying. The bed frame groaned. Their every breath rasped. Thunderous heartbeats filled his ears. All the while, she massaged and grasped, engendering all kinds of havoc. He took her to the brink time and again, slowed the pace markedly, and then ramped it up again.
Thrusting in.
Pulling out.
In.
Out.
Thrust.
Withdraw.
Despite his set lips, a sob escaped. This was so difficult. The pleasure already vast! A knot of pressure formed in his lower back. Grew. Hardened. His hold on this tenuously stretched. Neared a breaking point. It was torment. Torture. And punishment in a combination that came in waves. He didn’t know how much longer he could last. And that’s when her pleas reached him, spoken between pants for breath.
“Oh...Paul Henry...please? Paul Henry...please!”
He slammed into her. Withdrew before her gasp made sound only to thrust back in. His movements were powerful. Dominating. The mattress leapt with each lunge. The bed frame creaked in accompaniment. The knot of pressure at his back twinged painfully. A cacophony of sound swelled around them as Eska matched his every move.
He pounded into her.
Harder.
Deeper.
Eska pulled in a huge breath, taking his with it. Her neck arched back. And then she launched into a shriek that not only added to the chorus of sound about them. It blistered past it.
Her throat beckoned. So sweet. A blue-toned vein, just beneath the skin, drew him. Paul Henry lowered his mouth. Licked along the vein. Struggled to contain a massive craving. Knew exactly how it felt to lose.
He stabbed through flesh...
And went berserk.
Every semblance of control vanished. Need drove every hammered thrust. Each withdrawal. The mattress jounced. The room gyrated. The pressure in his lower back grew to fire-tipped pain.
“Oh, Eska! Oh, baby! Oh, sweet!”
Words spewed from him in a litany of growls. Her rasped responses only added fuel.
“Yes! Yes! Oh, Paul Henry...yes!”
“Eska. Oh…Eska.”
“Oh, my!”
Paul Henry exploded and launched backward, taking her with him. He smacked into the ceiling. Rebounded back. He didn’t even feel it. His body was in the grip of something beyond scope. Paradise opened right in front of him, and he had the wings to reach it. Once there, it defied comprehension. A fractured pulse of sensation captured him, filled with color and light. It surrounded him in a vista of crystalline hues. Beauteous. Ecstatic. Rapturous.
Eska was with him the entire time. Holding tightly. Their limbs entwined. Bodies joined. At one. Mated.
And truly, that was the most perfect thing of all.