21. IN HIS ROOM

IN HIS ROOM

I found myself in Andras's bedroom, which was not actually his bedroom but in his mind, where the fireplace crackled and the bedspread practically sang my name. A smell of ash and whiskey hung in the air. I nervously tapped my fingers against the side of my thighs. The man in front of me wasn't human. And it had been a long time since I'd been touched, let alone by someone other than my husband. Would I even remember what to do? Andras breathed shakily, his focus going between my eyes and my mouth, where they lingered a little longer. His full lips parted, and he paused, frozen, until I realized, again, that he was waiting for me. My skin prickled with goosebumps.

My eyes dragged down his muscled body. I slowly reached up and unbuttoned the first button on my low-cut top. Andras sucked in a breath. I unbuttoned another and then another, revealing my black lace bra. Then I took a step forward until we were so close that his uneven exhales warmed my forehead as I gazed up at him. His scent, cedar and whisky, filled my nose. I closed my eyes, taking it all in. I gently laid my hand on his neck and whispered, in a breathy voice I barely recognized, "Can I kiss you?"

"You can do anything you want to me," he whispered back, his voice deep and full of gravel. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me against him, and my skin, every inch, flushed and heated. My stomach tingled. I pushed up onto my toes as he brought his soft, warm lips to mine. A flick of his tongue had my body tightening and shuddering. "Oh Gods," I whispered against his mouth, and he chuckled darkly in response. He lifted me off the floor with one hand under my ass, and I wrapped my legs around him, pressing my center against the considerable length of him. I writhed and kissed him harder and he responded by opening his mouth for me and running his tongue over mine. I ran my hands up under the hem of his shirt, across his warm skin, the peaks and valleys of his abs, and the pecs that twitched under my palms as he gently laid me on the bed.

Andras sat back on his heels, waiting again, as if giving me time to change my mind. I kicked off my Oxfords, then slid off my pants in one silky movement. My black lace panties hid the faded scar from where Olivia had been cut from my body. The fireplace added a warm glow to my round hips and long legs, and I was thankful for that. I took Andras by the hand and pulled him down on top of me, slowly working my fingers over the buttons on his shirt while we kissed, inch by inch, revealing his abs and the deep carve of his hip flexors that formed a perfect "V." My underwear were drenched. I unbuttoned his slacks, keeping his pelvis close to mine. The rest of our clothes came off in a flurry of hands, tossed on the floor in a careless pile until we were naked, and Andras was on top of me.

He kissed me slowly, softly, down my neck, pausing at my breasts. "These are beautiful," he breathed before flicking his tongue over my nipple. I bucked and writhed beneath him. He smiled against my breast.

"Is this okay?"

I nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes?"

"Yes," I gasped.

He licked and teased each one until I was moaning and grinding against him, desperate for pressure, for something, anything to relieve the ache building in my lower belly. His hand slid down to my entrance and stopped, "Okay?" he whispered, looking up at me from my chest with glassy eyes. "Yes." A large, long finger pushed into me, and my back arched. "You're so wet," he said into the skin of my belly, and I gasped and begged, "more." Finally, when I thought I was going to die from want, he trailed down further, paying special attention to my scar, his finger still pumping and curling inside of me. Then his mouth, hot and wet, found its way to that little bundle of nerves at the apex of my sex, and I screamed. He licked softly at first, leisurely, drawing the little bundle into his mouth and sucking gently, finger pumping, pumping, pumping. He slid his finger free, and I whimpered, feeling suddenly too empty. Please don't stop, please don't stop! Large, strong hands gently spread me open, and he settled between my legs like he planned to be there all night, looking his fill for what felt like hours with his pitch-black eyes. Unable to take it anymore, I reached for myself, but just before my fingers found my clit, he plunged his tongue inside of me, in and out, and I reached for his hair, tangling my fingers in it and almost laughing at the irony. I nearly came.

"Andras!" I moaned and bucked.

"Is this okay?" he asked, pausing, his breath hot against me.

"Yes," I moaned.

"Do you want me to keep going?"

"Please," I begged.

He licked up my center, and my hips rose off of the bed, but he pushed my hips gently back down, holding me in place. He licked again, then settled over the bundle of nerves, flicking his tongue there, then closed his mouth around me to suck gently. He slipped two fingers inside, and I breathed his name as I went over the edge so explosively that I nearly blacked out. My vision went dark, and all that existed at that moment was infinite pleasure, so intense that I felt like I might die. Can an orgasm kill you? My body quivered and shook against his mouth as I clenched around his pumping fingers and whispered filthy things. He pulled away and sat back, his mouth still glossy from me, and curved into a proud smile.

He pressed his tongue into the corner of his mouth.

"Thank you," he said.

I shook my head, still a little out of my mind from the best orgasm of my life. I pushed myself onto my knees, wrapped my arms around him, and kissed him, tasting myself on his lips and tongue. I climbed onto his lap and lowered myself onto his cock, slowly, inch by inch, giving myself time to adjust while I took in the full width and length of him. "You're huge," I whispered against his lips, and he had the audacity to shrug. His head dropped back as I moved a little faster, and his fangs caught the light of the fire. I kissed his neck as I moved up and down on him, feeling deliciously full.

For a moment, I forgot that my body was in a bar. That the sex wasn't real. I forgot about my problems, my anxieties, and my divorce; all that existed at that moment was him and me, and our bodies moving together as he buried himself deep, deep, deep. I kissed him hard, sliding my tongue over his sharp canines. He leaned back, bracing himself with one arm, bringing the other around my waist to lift me enough for him to move under me. He pushed up, up, up, in rapid, punishing thrusts, and I arched into it, finding the little bundle of nerves with my fingers, rubbing in tiny, messy circles. Teeth scraped the delicate skin of my neck.

"Yes!" I encouraged him to bite me. Suddenly, I wanted it almost more than I wanted his cock inside of me.

He focused his eyes on mine. "No," he whispered, shaking his head.

All of my focus went to my fingers, to the fire building there, and I moaned. Andras's breathing became shaky as he thrust, and thrust. He looked down to where we were joined, to my fingers moving there, and whispered in that dark, deep voice of shadows and dreams, "Danny."

I went over the edge again, my head kicking back as my body shuddered. Andras swore, "fuck!" and his cock pulsed inside me as his orgasm exploded from him. Our eyes roamed over each other's faces as we panted there a while, until finally I slid off of him and fell back onto the bedspread in a daze. He lay next to me, smiling sleepily. No sight of his canines.

"You didn't want to bite me?" I asked.

"No."

"Why?"

"Because the effect that I can have, the nice one, won't work here. Your mind would perceive it as painful. And it would bloody hurt. I care about you. I don't want to hurt you."

"Oh…" I said softly.

I had no idea how long we'd been in this room in his mind. Thirty seconds. Six hours. Just like a dream, we were there all night, and I didn't want to leave the warmth of his bed or his breath, the kindness in his eyes, or that body, muscled from Gods knew what. All that I could say for certain was this: being with him was like dieting for a lifetime and then being handed an entire cheesecake.

***

My martini was still cold to the touch when Andras brought us back to the bar, and my nausea and confusion from the mindweaving weren't bad this time. I adjusted quickly, to my surprise. I'd gone from naked in bed to clothed in public, from tousled hair and wild makeup to everything still in place. Andras's espresso hair was no longer disheveled from where I'd dragged my hands through it. He gave me a look that meant something like, "we just fucked," and my cheeks flushed. I needed time to process. I'd had unbelievable, mind-blowing sex with Andras, my lovely neighborhood vampire, and… what was this life ? I had to parent in the morning.

Andras seemed to read everything on my face. "You look like you're ready to go. I'll call you a car." He smiled, but something else lurked there, some other feeling. Sadness?

"Thank you."

At home, I checked on Victoria and Olivia. Both were passed out in their beds. Jess had crashed in the guest room.

I changed into a silk nightgown, crawled into bed, and was hit with an overwhelming flood of emotions. Confusion, shame, grief, excitement, everything , swelled and crashed everywhere inside of me all at once. My throat tightened and the tears came so fast that my cheeks felt wet before I even realized I was crying. They trailed down the side of my face, across my temples, and into my hair. I hadn't thought it was possible to feel so connected to someone like that, let alone so soon after my divorce. Being with Andras felt as natural as breathing. It felt like coming home like we were meant to be, and something about that felt as wrong as it felt right. Curling up in the fetal position, I let myself feel all of it, until I fell asleep.