Blood Song: Refrain (Blood Song Series Book 2) Page 9

“You mean spread eagle?”

  He nodded.

  “Just my gynecologist.”

  “Good. This is mine,” he growled. The look he gave me as he claimed possession made me feel as if my whole body had been thrust inside a burning boiler. There wasn’t an inch of skin that wasn’t heated by his declaration and growl.

  “One last question, and keep in mind that losing your virginity is off the table. What do you want?” he asked.

  “You,” I whispered.

  “I’m here, and you have me in the only way you can. What else?”

  “To come,” I blurted, completely embarrassed by my lack of filter.

  Satisfaction spread his lips wide. “I thought that might be what you wanted. Your blood is humming a song of supplication. You want me to make your body sing?”

  I nodded vigorously like a bobble head doll.

  “My pleasure. I’ve been dying to taste you.” And with that declaration, his tongue ran from the bottom of my slit to the top, stopping just shy of the one place I really wanted his attention. I never imagined something could feel so incredible.

  His nimble fingers changed melodies again. My frazzled mind couldn’t place the new song, my world had narrowed to the few inches where his mouth was showering me with affection. His tongue darted in and out, licking and flicking to the tempo of the notes vibrating beneath me. Long, languorous licks with a matching adagio from the keys. Fast, darting flicks coordinated with the prestissimo of his fingers. With a shift, he planted a succession of feather-light pianissimo kisses to match the barely audible melody. Suddenly the music and the harmonizing mouth movements became forte. I writhed under his composition. I wanted to collapse backward, lying on the piano lid. The effort to hold my body upright was becoming too much to bear. But I couldn’t take my eyes off his darting fingers. He was composing a masterpiece and forcing my body to sing the accompaniment. It was tormenting and beautiful—a song I never wanted to end, but I wasn’t sure if I could survive it. I wasn’t sure if he was playing to his movements or if his motions synchronized with his playing. I didn’t care, so long as neither stopped.

  He finally licked to the very top and stayed there, igniting my clit with a feeling I’d never experienced before. Something was winding tighter and tighter within me. A coil spiraled so firmly I feared the outcome of its inevitable snap which was barreling down on me like a freight train. My fingers gripped his hair tightly. I battled between wanting to pull his mouth away because the feelings were getting so intense and wanting to anchor his mouth to me until the world as I knew it ended.

  Little did I realize, the world as I knew it would be ending in seconds. His mouth latched onto my engorged bud of nerve receptors, licking, nipping and sucking. A few seconds of that attention and my world exploded. My vision went white just before I squeezed my eyes shut, and a loud moan escaped my throat. I shouted his name and floated to bliss. I didn’t know how long I hovered in nirvana, but Toven continued to lick and tease as my body finally uncoiled and settled languidly back in place. My limbs felt extraordinarily heavy and loose.

  Toven lifted his face and looked at me. His face was shiny with the evidence of my out-of-body experience. He stood and pressed his mouth to mine, and I tasted myself on his lips. It was surprisingly hot. Music surrounded us, encapsulating us in a melodic bubble. I didn’t know how he had the ability to keep playing. Our lips finally parted, and he sat back on the bench.

  “Shit, I’ve been missing out,” I panted as I tried to catch my breath.

  Shock crossed his features.

  “What?” I asked.

  His eyes were wide. “You cursed. I’ve never heard you curse before, except when you ordered your drink.”

  Embarrassment flooded my cheeks. “I’m not so pure and virginal—" The look he gave me stopped my sentence in its tracks. “Scratch that. I am so virginal. But I’m not so innocent that I’ve never cursed before.”

  One of his eyebrows arched high on the perfect plane of his forehead. “Oh, really. Tell me when else you’ve cursed.”

  I wracked my brain. He was right, I didn’t curse often, but this wasn’t my first curse word either. It just was a rare occurrence. “I cursed once when I stubbed my toe in the middle of the night.”

  His head shook in disbelief. He flashed a smile at me, giving me a glimpse of his fangs. In all the time we’d spent together, never had I seen his fangs.

  “Sorry about that. I’m not going to bite you.” His head ducked self-consciously.

  “I’m not worried,” my words sounded slurred like I was drunk.

  I peered into his eyes. They were still hunger filled, but the darkness wasn’t swirling. All I could see was light. I cocked my head to the side, listening intently to the song he still played.

  “What song is that?”

  “It doesn’t have an official name yet. Maybe I should call it ‘Bliss’.”

  “You composed a song while you were . . . you know?” My shoulders hunched up to my ears.

  He chuckled at my embarrassment. “You mean while I was devouring your pussy?”

  “Y-yes.” The word caused all sorts of emotions to clamor inside of me.

  “Yes, I was inspired by the sight of you, the scent of you, the taste of you and then the feel of you coming apart on my tongue,” he admitted, unashamed.

  “Don’t you see what you did?”

  “You mean besides giving you the best orgasm of your life?” The smirk on his face was a cocky one.

  I understood why he looked at me strangely when I’d said I thought I had an orgasm before. Obviously, I hadn’t ever given myself this level of pleasure. I’d always pulled back, satisfied with what I’d achieved. Had I known this feeling was possible, I probably would’ve constantly had my hand down my pants.

  “Actually, you gave me my first full-fledged orgasm. I had no idea what I was missing out on. But what I meant, is do you realize that you just composed a beautiful, happy song with no origin or root in darkness?” I reached my trembling fingers out to trace his jaw, the stubble scraping against my soft skin.

  He looked at me, astounded by what I just revealed to him.

  “You’re right, my muse. Each note I composed in concert with your body was from a place of bliss for both of us and is etched on my heart.”

  I had no words. There was no need. Toven was the master of them.

  His fingers stilled. “Come on, beautiful girl, let’s put you to bed.”

  Standing, he scooped me off the piano and carried me up to his room. My heart fluttered at what might happen next.

  He set me on his bed. “Don’t get any ideas. I just want to hold you. I want to surround myself with your light tonight, if that’s OK with you.”

  “Yes. But don’t you need release or a taste or something?” I glanced from his crotch which revealed an impressive bulge to his mouth where a hint of fang still peeked out.

  “No, I’m good.”

  “But your fangs and your um . . . package are both showing.”

  He chuckled heartily. “You are so damn adorable. Both will retreat in a bit. Don’t worry.”

  “I can . . . um . . . return the favor,” I blushed as the words fell out of my mouth.

  He gulped audibly before rejecting my offer. “I can’t let you do that. I don’t know that I’d be able to stay in control. I promise, I’ll be fine. Let’s just go to sleep.”

  He stepped to his dresser and pulled out a T-shirt and pair of boxers. Stepping back to my side, he drew the boxers up my legs and slipped my skirt off. Then he removed my blouse, inhaling deeply at the sight of my bare breasts, before he quickly covered me with his soft T-shirt.

  “You look good in my clothes.”

  Stepping back to his dresser, he drew out a pair of sleep pants. Toven made quick work of removing his shirt and pants. After slipping into the sleep pants, he turned and cast the most beautiful smile my way. It was full of something I hadn’t ever seen on his face before, but I was too blissed out to exami
ne it.

  He turned off the light and pulled me up to the head of the bed, where we nestled down into his pillow. I felt safe cocooned in his embrace. He nuzzled my neck, pressing a kiss to my pounding pulse. As I drifted off to sleep, I realized his fears of hurting me and losing control of what lay within him were completely unfounded. He’d been turned on and thirsty in the heat of arousal tonight, yet he’d denied himself both releases. I was perfectly safe with him. He would find a way to maintain control. He just didn’t grasp that he had the power yet. But with my help and a little patience, he would realize it.

  11

  Toven

  Nothing had ever felt more right in my world than lying in bed with Celesta in my arms. It was the perfect end to a bit of a roller coaster day. My emotions had run the gamut all day—emotions I hadn’t ever felt or even entertained before, starting with deep longing when I woke the morning after running away from the feelings she awakened inside me. Then a profound joy filled me at the thought of seeing her after over a day apart. Followed by jealousy, which I’d never understood as an emotion, crept in when I laid eyes on her leaving the spa with Jay. Contentment eased that out of the way when we spent the afternoon together. And then murderous rage and fear competed when I found her being attacked by Jeff.

  It was no wonder I tossed all my good intentions aside and took our relationship a step further. And just thinking about her perched on my piano was enough to create a response like never before.

  Teasing her, tasting her and pleasing her made me desperate for more of her. I’d never been so aroused and thirsty in my life, not even the night I was first turned and was ravenous for all Cassandra offered. Yet, I’d somehow been able to think beyond those animal instincts that shouted for me to take what I wanted and satisfy myself. I was able to keep it all about her, and I had no idea what to do with that bit of information.

  It was a thought for another day. At the moment, I just wanted to relax and hold Celesta all night long. As I licked my lips, I realized the taste of her—the most exquisite thing I’d ever tasted—still lingered there. The smell of her arousal still filled my nostrils with the most enticing aroma, and the sound of her breathy cries of release still filled my ears with the most beautiful music.

  My heart rate synchronized with the beat of hers beneath my palm, where she clutched my hand to her chest. Our inhales and exhales set a slow rhythm for us to drift off to sleep by. I wasn’t sure what feeling was filling me up at the moment, but it felt like my heart was about to burst with something.

  God, I wished I understood more about human emotions. Then maybe I’d have a name for this. The crystal, protection amulet nestled between us felt as if it was warming up, drawing my attention to it. In the dark, I couldn’t make out every minute detail, but I could see that the pink crystal shards were taking on a deeper hue.

  What did it mean?

  It was with that question rolling around in my mind, that I finally drifted into a sleep completely free of dreams for the first time in ages.

  Sunlight danced across my closed eyes. The brightness of it indicated I’d slept much later than I ever had. Awareness crept in slowly, much more slowly than normal. An unusual warmth was draped across my chest as a hint of berries tickled my nostrils. Gentle movement caressed my side. The unexpected movement quickly woke all my senses as I took stock of my surroundings. A soft sigh and the slow steady heartbeat vibrating against my chest instantly put a smile on my face.

  Celesta. I’d recognize that heartbeat in a room filled with a thousand other beating hearts. Hers was the only one that called out to me.

  She seemed to have made herself quite comfortable while sleeping. Her arm was draped across my torso, her head was tucked under my chin in the hollow of my neck, and her leg was entwined with mine. As every inch of me became aware of each point of contact with her, more of me woke up. Lying here wasn’t going to work much longer. Nuzzling my nose into her soft tresses, I pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

  “Mornin’,” she mumbled, her voice still thick with sleep.

  “Good morning.”

  “Do we have to get up yet?” Her grip on me tightened.

  “Nah, you stay here and rest some more. I’ll be back in a few.” I gently extracted myself from her warmth and climbed from the bed. Pulling the sheet back up and tucking it around her, I hid her tempting curves from my sight. Too bad I couldn’t hide them from my memory.

  Within minutes, I was downstairs doing something I hadn’t done in years—cooking a meal. Scrambling eggs, I wandered back through my memories, trying to recall when the last time I actually cooked something was, and I came up empty. After plating everything on the fancy dishes Mrs. Burkett insisted I have, I zipped outside to the garden and picked a perfect rose to adorn the tray.

  Half an hour after leaving her, I carried a tray laden with scrambled eggs, bacon, toast and juice upstairs to my room. Crossing the threshold, I found her still curled up asleep in my bed, looking as if she belonged nowhere else in the world. I moved soundlessly to the bedside table and set the tray down. Settling back into my spot on the bed, I lay next to her, watching her.

  Her peaceful beauty could inspire a multitude of symphonies. My fingers itched to capture the notes floating around in my mind. They weren’t something that could be marketed to radio, but they could very well be the most beautiful pieces of music my mind had ever composed. I opened the drawer in the bedside table and grabbed my notepad. My gaze never left her face as my fingers furiously scribbled, the music writing itself in the plumpness of her lips, the gentle curve of her jaw, the softness of her skin, the peacefulness in her features. Within minutes, I flipped page after page, seizing the song. The last notes were scratched onto the page as her eyes fluttered open. In them for a brief moment, I envisioned my whole world.

  “Hi,” she whispered. The smile curving her lips shone brighter than a thousand suns. My fingers added the composition’s ending from the sparkle in her eyes and the light in her smile.

  “Hi,” I answered back, setting the pad and pen aside.

  “Whatcha’ doing?” she mumbled.

  “Composing a symphony, I think.”

  She eased up further onto the pillow. “Wow.”

  Nodding, I said, “Yeah, it actually may be the most beautiful song I’ve ever written.”

  “Can I see?”

  “There are no words. There might not ever be words. But you can hear it later, after breakfast.”

  “I thought I smelled bacon. Is Mrs. Burkett here?” She grinned.

  “Nope.”

  “Did you go out and get breakfast?”

  “No, I cooked us breakfast,” I bragged, puffing my chest out a little.

  “I didn’t know you could cook.”

  “Don’t get your hopes up. I haven’t cooked in decades. It might be inedible.” My nose crinkled up.

  “It smells delicious.”

  I squared up my shoulders and spoke with confidence, “Let’s see if it is.”

  “OK. But first . . ..” She leaned toward me, brushing her lips against mine. “I like waking up with you.”

  “I like waking up with you too.” I touched my lips to hers, taking a much deeper sampling of her than she did of me.

  I pulled back quickly. If I didn’t, my efforts in the kitchen would be wasted. “Now let’s eat. Don’t want it to get cold.”

  When I set the tray on the bed between us, she snatched the rose laying on the edge and brought it to her nose. In that instant, I wished I’d been gifted with visual artistic talents. I’d love to paint or draw her, anything to visually capture her beauty rather than interpretatively as I did with music.

  “Where’d you find such a perfect rose? I don’t think I’ve ever seen one with dark red striations running through the lighter red petals.” She caressed one of the petals with her fingertip.

  “In the garden by the maze. There’s one bush of that variety among all the other colors.”

  “I don’t kn
ow how I missed that one. It’s beautiful. It just might be my new favorite shade.”

  “What was your old favorite shade?” I asked curiously.

  “Yellow tipped with orange. Like the sun.”

  With one finger, I gently stroked a velvety petal, striped in dual shades of crimson, then stroked her cheek. Both were incredibly silky soft. A soft sigh escaped her lips.

  “This type is my favorite,” I whispered.

  I poured a glass of orange juice for each of us, then picked up a fork to feed her a bite of eggs.

  “I get the experimental bite?” she asked, lightening the mood.

  “I thought you should get the honor of being the only person alive to taste my cooking.” I offered the forkful to her.

  “That’s not a ringing endorsement,” she teased, but opened her mouth any way.

  After a brief moment of chewing, a shocked look crossed her features. “This is really good. More please.”

  I hurried to oblige. As we shared bites of breakfast, I asked her, “I’m not working today. So, what would you like to do? We can do anything.”

  “Promise you won’t think it’s foolish?”

  “I promise.”

  “Well, Ace’s movie is one of those dance movies. I’ve seen the trailers. There’s a lot of magnificent dancing in the movie. I imagine at the after party, there’ll be lots of dancing. I want to be able to do some of those fancy dances. You know, like the ones from Dirty Dancing.”

  My nose crinkled in disgust. “I’m not sure I know what this dirty dancing is that you speak of. Is it dancing in mud or something? If it is, I assure you that is not something Ace would have at his party. He’s pretty respectable and getting covered in mud doesn’t sound respectable.”

  Her eyes grew wide, and she stared at me for several long moments.

  Did I have egg on my face? I grabbed a napkin and wiped, feeling nothing. Finally, I asked, “What?”

  She busted out laughing. “You’re serious? You think dirty dancing is dancing in mud?”

  “I guess maybe I shouldn’t think that?” I said doubtfully.