Vincent stared up at her with his sienna eyes. He’d aged as if he’d not missed a day of life. A ragged scar slashed across his face. A hint of nightmare, but she shook her head, working past it. She wanted one more time with her Vincent, even if it could only be in a dream. She traced her finger along the faded line. It erased the last traces of boyishness he’d had in life, but she liked it. It made her bad boy, and she wasn’t about to quibble the meaning of mysterious scars in a dreamscape.
It was his birthday. Every man deserved a good blowjob on his birthday. She leaned up and dragged her mouth over his. Damn. He tasted the way she remembered him, and his mouth was remembered ecstasy. She moved her hands down his torso, feeling the hard contours of his muscles. “Let me,” she breathed against his ear. “You’ll like it.”
He groaned and his head dropped back, his hips pushing into hers. “Don’t have to.”
“But I want to.” She reared up to take in the sight of him lying under her. After pushing the cloak off his shoulders, she dragged off his shirt. She pressed light kisses to his hot skin. She didn’t care if this man was really Wraith. She needed a prop for this too delicious dream. Her hands splayed out over his chest, and she nipped at the hollow of his throat. “You’ll love it.”
His fingers gripped her hips. “Bryna.”
She captured his bottom lip with hers and sucked. His cock went harder. “Those pants have to be uncomfortable.” She pushed up and slipped her body down the length of him and unfastened the button. “Let me help you.”
“Bryna—” What he was about to say died on his lips when she licked the crease of his hip. His body shuddered in pleasure. “Oh, God.”
She grinned as she unzipped his pants and pulled them down lower on his hips. She lowered her head and focused her hot attention on tasting his skin, and seeing if this man had all the same sensitive spots her beloved Vincent had. She licked along his hip again, and then lightly sucked the skin at the pressure point right there.
He sucked in a breath, and his hips jerked forward. His fingers tangled in her hair. “Holy hell,” he groaned. “Please—” Then let out another soft groan.
She smirked up at him. She sat up and pulled off her shirt, and tossed it to the floor. She leaned forward and let her hard nipples skim down his chest. She stopped her descent to spend a few moments tantalizing his nipples before licking her way down his hard abdomen. His breath caught, and his body trembled at all the right spots to keep her firmly locked in her wonderful fantasy.
*
“Bryna.” Her name on his lips was the giving into what was about to happen. He thrust up into her despite the fabric blocking his entrance into her tight, firm body. He slipped his hands up her back, and tangled one hand in her hair at the nap of her neck. He forced her to look at him. “You don’t have to do this.”
Her eyes narrowed, and then she lowered her head and licked around his navel. “Oh, but I want to.” She pulled out of his hold, and went back to her task of driving him mad. Her soft, hot hands glided over his sensitized flesh. She kept eye contact with him as she moved lower. When she was even with the low-riding waistband of his pants, she shoved them down, freeing his cock from the painful constraint. She flashed an impish grin before she licked his entire length. Her body shuddered with pleasure when he moaned. His hand fisted in her hair, seeming on its own accord, as her mouth wrapped around him.
Vincent knew he was going to die. Not what he’d experienced before, but a sweet kind of death that only left him one road to Heaven. The way she knew how to use her mouth and tongue to cause effects he’d never experienced before could be his undoing. He didn’t care how she gained the experience. Dear God. If there was ever a better reason to find Oblivion, it was with her mouth working him to the point he was sure he was going to embarrass himself.
He had to work at loosening the hold he had of her hair. As much as he’d die to have her finish him, he wanted this to be something more. Gently, but firmly he tugged her head back.
She stopped and looked up at him with apprehension. “You don’t like it?”
“Bryna,” he croaked out. Yeah, he was going to make an embarrassing mess of this, but he might be able to salvage it. “You,” was what he managed to eke out in a raspy voice. He looped one hand around her and pulled her up so she was straddled over him again. His hand was still tangled in her fiery hair. He used it to tug her head back and drag his mouth along the column of her throat. “You first.”
She leaned back and studied him for a long couple of moments before she scooted forward over him and leaned down. Her soft lips touched his before she pushed herself up. Her emerald gaze locked on to his as he moved his hands to cover her breasts.
Then it became about taste and touch and need. Their bodies moved together like practiced lovers. He knew each little spot and crevice to touch or lick or slide his fingers into to make her squirm over him. He loved each sound. He needed them. He watched the way she moved. He hoped every drop of love he felt for her seeped through. She needed to feel it. He needed her to feel it.
Her bottom brushed and ground against him until there was no hope for him to hang on. He jabbed his fingers in deep and stroked them along her velvety insides in just the right place to make her come. Watching her as she came on his hand was something he could do until the time stopped. When her body finished quaking around his fingers, he dragged his hands over her soft skin, wanting to touch every part of her.
He closed his eyes at the exquisite feel of her breasts in his hands. He lightly brushed the pads of his thumbs over taut nipples. He grinned when she let out a soft sigh.
“Vincent.”
He looked at her face as he pushed up to a seated position. He captured her body against his as he lowered his head to skim his lips down her throat. “Need,” was all he could rasp out. The grinding need to be one with her refused to be ignored. He gritted his teeth against the mad desire and tipped her back. He captured the tip of one of her luscious breasts with his mouth, and then he worshiped the other.
He hoped every drop of love he felt for her seeped through. She needed to feel it. He needed her to feel it.
Her bottom brushed and ground against him until there was no hope for him to hang on. He slipped his fingers in deep inside of her wonderful body and stroked them along her velvety, slick walls in just the right place to make her come.
His gaze was locked on hers as he watched her come undone in his arms.
Oh yeah. His body shuddered, and he gritted his teeth as she convulsed around his fingers. She bowed back, and his name tore from her in a beautiful erotic moan. In that second he pulled his fingers out, wrapped his hands around her hips, then he lifted her up and impaled her.
He lifted her up and pulled her down hard on him for a second time. He repeatedly lifted and reentered her over and over as he looked into her soul-stealing eyes. Her body spasmed again as he moved her on him at the frantic pace. The release was mind-blowing. He held onto her like she was his last thread to life until they both started to breathe again after the impact of the soul-melding high.
Her sweat-dampened body relaxed against him. “I love you, Vincent,” she murmured as she drifted back into sleep.
Vincent held her as his body still trembled. Bad. Stupid. Idiot. Those words weren’t enough to describe what he’d just done to his wonderful Bryna. She was going to be pissed off with him when the sun was fully up, but he’d handle it. Until then, he’d enjoy this time to hold her against his body skin to skin.
* * * *
Bryna woke up alone. If she weren’t naked, she could have convinced herself it had been a dream—really, she could have—but she was.
She let out a long sigh as she dragged herself to the end of the bed and fished her shirt off the floor and pulled it on. Great. She really had gone down the tubes. She stumbled into the bathroom to take care of morning business. She’d had the most wonderful sex she’d had since Vincent. It was because she’d let herself get wrapped up in a dream. It was the only way she’d allow herself to keep the wonderfulness of it.
And it had been wonderful.
Wraith was Vincent’s friend. She wasn’t sure she believed that one could develop new friendships once a person was dead, but she’d go with it for now. There were things she had to do today. One was her little visit to Shawn, and the other was visiting Vincent’s grave.
She finished up in the bathroom and tried to keep tears from blurring her vision. Today was the one day she was supposed to keep sacred. She’d not only screwed it up by having sex, but she’d used her wish to be with Vincent one last time as an excuse to let a man she didn’t even know what he looked like into her bed to make the experience as real as possible.
What would Vincent think of her now?
The tears slipped down her cheeks as she made it into the kitchen.
A hooded Wraith sat calmly at the kitchen table. At the seat across from him was a plate with two pickles and some American cheese and a steaming cup of black coffee.
She cried harder.
“Bryna?”
She refused to look at him as she stumbled to the chair and sat down. “You might not want to stick around today if you don’t have to. I can get pretty bad.” There. That should keep him from knowing she’d messed up hugely in the early morning. Too bad she hadn’t gotten a good look at his face. She’d been so wrapped up in her Vincent fantasy she’d projected his face onto Wraith.