When he slid his arms under her, she linked hers around his neck. Turning, he took his seat on the couch with her cradled in his lap, her arm naturally sliding along his back, the other holding to his shoulder.
"I've noticed you like the places that are the most life-threatening, my lady. The carotid artery, the femoral. I think you don't want me to forget my life is yours for the taking."
An intuitive man. She let the thought whisper through his mind like the hint of danger. As if he sensed her hunger rising hard and fast to the surface, he tightened his arm around her back, drawing her closer while the music continued to play. His glance went pointedly to the remote next to his thigh.
There are some men who think sex and watching cable TV at the same time is the closest thing to heaven on earth.
Touch it and I shall remind you immediately your life is mine for the taking.
I didn't say I was one of them, my lady. The warmth of his smile touched her face as she closed her eyes, placed her mouth over him and bit, digging in as she would for the anticipation of sweet fruit waiting behind a firm rind. She knew he now understood she liked him to feel pain at the entry, that she'd been glad he didn't want her to use her secretions to desensitize the experience. She was stirred by how aroused he got without them, stoked by the stimulation of their two energies.
He stroked her back with his one hand, his other lying over her legs, palm resting on her hip. His arousal grew beneath her, but from his mind she knew he also understood that when she fed it might or might not lead to that. Sometimes the taking of what he was willing to surrender to her was something of its own to savor. It had a deep intensity to it she didn't want to mesh with sex, like not mixing two equally good foods together so as not to dull the nuances of each.
Plus he was enjoying the simple feeling of being in a state of wanting her, letting that yearning build but holding it in check for her pleasure, for when she called for it. Which ratcheted up her own desire. During the dinner, without prompting he'd startled himself by calling her Mistress. Closing her eyes, she savored the sweet taste of blood, the disturbing though exultant realization he was beginning to understand what serving a Mistress truly meant.
He wasn't a natural sexual submissive by a long shot, but by pledging his heart, mind and soul to serve her, whether it be her pleasure or need for companionship, or as her protector, he'd opened up the path in himself. He was learning what pleasured her soul could create pleasure in his own, taking him places he'd never considered arousing before. For her and her alone he would submit, and that made his submission all the more potent.
Pressing her breasts against his chest, she dug in her grip on his arm. His own hand fisted the fabric of her skirt into a ball as he communicated back the same passion, his fingers flexing in a rhythm with her nursing at his throat, her generous swallows of his blood.
At length, she drew back, pressing and holding her lips on the wound as she'd done in the past, waiting for the blood to clot from the agents in her mouth, enjoying the taste of him settling on her tongue as she did so. He was still hard beneath her, and she rubbed herself against him, a passing stroke. His head dropped back to the sofa as he eyed her, his hand coming up to her face, threading his fingers into her hair. "I want you," he said in a quiet voice. His thumb moved to her lips, to the fang that was still somewhat elongated. Pressing so it punctured, he gave her another taste. She took it into her mouth, suckling on his thumb as his fingers fanned out over her lashes, her nose, her lips. Nuzzling against his touch, she closed her eyes, taking the thumb deeper so his large hand masked her face. As she let him draw his thumb out slowly, she flicked her tongue against it, opened her eyes so she could watch the images rolling through his mind reflect in his expression.
"Would you like your cock in my mouth, Sir Vagabond?"
He swallowed. "I'm sure you can read my mind, my lady. But I would never presume to—"
"Tell me." Her voice was low. She knew her eyes were bright, harsh demand and desire projecting in her voice, compelling him to respond in kind.
"Yes, my lady. I want my cock in your mouth. I want to feel your lips, your teeth on me. I want you to swallow my come. Hold you on me with my hands fisted in your hair, watching my cock stretch your beautiful, perfect mouth. But there's something I want even more than that."
He showed her in his mind, in great detail, such that she trembled and moisture gathered between her legs, feeling the images almost as if he were doing it.
"You've picked up on the advantages of this form of communication far more quickly than Thomas."
"Well, my mind is far less pure."
She tugged his hair so his head obligingly dipped. "Thomas was a man as well as a monk. He had thoughts."
"You enjoyed teasing him."
"At times," she admitted, no apology in her tone. In fact, Jacob noted there was laughter there, one of the first times he'd heard her speak of the man without sadness. He'd apparently found a memory that didn't overlap with the tragedy which had taken him from her. As much as his body wanted to push them forward on the roller coaster he'd just initiated, he forced himself to patience to get an answer to the question that had been plaguing him. He suspected she might be in a mood to answer.
"When Thomas became my servant, I did require him to lie with me at least once," she confessed what he asked in his mind. "I required proof of his loyalty, that his devotion to me would supersede his oath to God."
"You tread in dangerous waters, my lady. Even vampires answer to a higher power."
She nodded. "There are those who believe the folk tales, that we're already damned. But I'm not one of them. A vampire is part of creation, like a man, dog or mosquito, trees or rivers, and our souls are as up for grabs as any. But men create religion, not gods. I personally believe Divinity could care less if we indulge in carnal knowledge of one another."
In fact, there was a spiritual power to it so overwhelming, Lyssa thought the religions that used it as a form of worship made more sense than those that called it a sin. "A man's integrity, his morality, his sense of right and wrong and the choices they compel him to make, that's his connection to God. While I have no problem testing that connection for my own purposes, I respect it for the most part when its strength is true. That's why I only asked for it once." Something like humor danced through her gaze. "I do admit to the occasional flirtation, a teasing and provocative image injected in his mind at the right moment to distract him from a task." She sobered. "But with Thomas, his faith was unbreakable. He never did anything to shame himself before his God, no matter what he himself thought about it."
She considered the copper strands of his hair tangled with her fingers, the beauty of Jacob's eyes. Those firm, sensual lips.
"One thing I do understand is the power of devotion and loyalty. While I might not believe whatever we call God requires us to give up sex, since that was something Thomas did to prove his loyalty to Him or Her, it demanded my respect. Any deity, or queen for that matter," she allowed herself a small smile, "would appreciate a servant who gives up a significant natural desire to prove his love and dedication to her service. I might ask someone to choose between their conscience and my desires, but as you have pointed out before, Sir Vagabond, the choice remains in the realm of that person's soul. If the soul is strong enough, I can't take the choice away unless I use a level of duress that damns my own soul, not theirs. I'm not like some of my brethren."
At last, she gave him the answer she knew he'd been seeking, and her eyes were intent on his, underscoring she understood the significance of her answer. "If I ask you to make a choice, there is a strong and urgent need for it. Not because I just enjoy taunting you and breaking your soul into pieces, bit by bit. I swear it."
Jacob nodded, his hand finding her other one and holding it, his fingers closing around hers. "Then I will trust you, my lady, even if I don't always agree. Did he please you?"
She cocked her head, met his gaze with an amused look. "He did. He was a gentle, thorough lover who made me regret my decision to demand it of him only once."
"Really."
She laughed at him then. She knew it couldn't be compared to the volatile couplings she'd had with Jacob. They encompassed a whole spectrum of reactions and action. In their few joinings, Jacob had been gentle, thorough. Also passionate, demanding. Surprisingly inventive and intuitive, never forgetting or leaving her heart and mind out of the equation when their two bodies came together. He was powerful in the arts of charm and seduction for that reason, all the more so because he used them for their mutual pleasure, never with a thought to manipulate. He brought an adventurous innocence to it she also appreciated, learning all the dark paths a body could take for sexual pleasure. He elicited unexpected responses from her, like now when she heard the faint territorial note enter his voice. He didn't like talking about other men that had been with her, even one like Thomas.
"What about you, Jacob? You are too at ease around a woman's body for me to think you don't remember fondly one or two… dozen."
He chuckled. In one of those unexpected moves, even as she knew his thoughts, he lifted her as easily as he would a child, shifting her and guiding her legs so she sat astride him, her legs curved and overlapped behind his hips, between his body and the couch. He snugged her up to him with those large, capable palms on her hips and backside. She drew in a little breath when he accurately put the pressure of his cock against her clit, his fingers holding her buttocks, kneading. "You've driven them all out of my mind, my lady. And before you try to make a liar out of me…" She had the snippet of a thought as she dove in, trying to do just that, before he put his hand on the back of her neck and brought his mouth to hers to delve into her in a sense that was far more physical. It did, however, accomplish the objective of driving anything else from her mind for the moment.