Lover At Last(136)

“All clear. Just a human with car trouble.”

“So there’s nothing to worry about?”

“Not a thing.”

As relief eased the tension out of her face, he shut them in together and threw the lock.

“I’m so glad you came back to me again,” the female said, letting the lace-trimmed halves of her satin robe fall back apart.

Tonight she was wearing a black negligee that pushed her breasts high and made her waist look like he could span it with only one of his hands. She smelled overdone: too much hand cream, body lotion, shampoo, conditioner, and perfume marking her body.

He really wished she wouldn’t go to the effort.

With a quick shift of the eyes, Assail checked the position of all the windows. Naturally, none of them had changed: There were two narrow ones on either side of the stone fireplace. A stretch of three panes of glass over the sink. And then that bowed-out section over to the left that was above the built-in seat with its cushions and needlepoint pillows.

His burglar would choose the window to the right of the fireplace. It was out of the glow from the lantern over the front door, and in the lee of the chimney.

“Are you ready for me?” the female purred.

Assail ducked his hand into the inside of his jacket. The thousand dollars in cash was folded once, the ten hundred-dollar bills forming a thin folio.

Moving sinuously, he put his back to the bay window and the fireplace. For some reason, he didn’t want his burglar to see him make payment.

The rest of what was going to happen, however, he very much wanted her to witness.

“Here.”

As the female took the money, he didn’t want her to count it. And she didn’t.

“Thank you.” She stepped back and put the bills in a red pottery jar. “Shall we?”

“Yes. We shall.”

Assail closed in and assumed control, taking the female’s face between his hands, tilting her head back, and kissing her hard. In response, she moaned, as if the unexpected advance was something she not only welcomed, but hadn’t dared expect.

He was glad she enjoyed it. But her pleasure was not what this was about.

Moving her around, he took her over to the sofa that ran down the little cottage’s far wall, pushing her with his body, using his strength to lay her out with her head in the direction of the fireplace. As she reclined, she cast her arms out to the sides, rolling her breasts upward until they strained the satin cups that covered them.

Assail mounted her fully clothed and with his coat on, his knee going between hers, one of his hands reaching down and pulling up that floor-length negligee—

“No, no,” he said as she went to wind her arms around his neck. “I want to see you.”

Bullshit. He wanted her to be seen from the window.

Whilst she complied readily, he went back to kissing her and getting that long skirting out of the way—and the second it was, she split her legs wide.

“Fuck me,” the female said, arching under him.

Well, that wasn’t going to be possible. He wasn’t hard.

But not everyone needed to know that.

In order to appear impassioned, he shrugged his overcoat free of his shoulders, and then with a quick slash of his fangs, he bit through the negligee’s straps, exposing the female’s breasts to the firelight, the nipples going instantly tight atop acres of pale flesh.

Assail paused, as if taken by what he saw. And then he extended his tongue and dropped his head.

At the last moment, just before he started to lick and suckle, he lifted his eyes, focusing on the blackened window on the right, meeting the stare of the woman who he knew was there in the shadows, watching him….

A shot of pure, undiluted lust shot through his body, taking over, replacing higher reasoning as the driver of his actions. The female underneath him ceased to be one of his species that he had bought for a short time.

She became his burglar.

And it changed everything. With a sudden surge, he struck the column of the female’s throat, taking the vein, drawing what he needed…

All the while imagining that the human woman was beneath him.



Sola gasped—

And ripped herself away from the cottage’s window.

As her back hit the hard, bumpy side of the river-stone chimney, she closed her eyes, her heart pounding against her ribs, her lungs dragging in cold air.

On the backs of her lids, all she saw were the bare-naked breasts laid out before him, his dark head descending, his tongue flicking free of his mouth…and then his eyes lifting and meeting hers.

Oh, Jesus, how had he known she was there?

And shit, she was never going to forget the image of that woman splayed out beneath him, that coat of his cast aside, his body surging into the cradle of those slender hips. She could imagine the warmth of the fire beside them, and the even more powerful heat coming off of him—the feel of skin on skin, the promise of ecstasy.