Her gaze traveled up to his face and found his icy, blue eyes staring back at her. They were glowing slightly, as they did when he was angry, and she pulled the covers tighter, glad for their flimsy protection. She felt suddenly like a small animal beneath the gaze of a predator, an unhappy image. She frowned and felt her own anger stiffen her determination. She was not an animal; she was no one's prey, and she, by God, was not a whore either.
"Raj,” she said coolly. It was an acknowledgment of his presence, nothing more.
"Sarah.” His voice was low and rumbling, and definitely meant to intimidate. Apparently, he was still pissed at her. Well, too bad.
Summoning her courage and her frostiest voice, Sarah said, “If you're finished, I'd like to use the bathroom."
He blinked. And blinked again. He didn't say anything, but took two steps away from the bathroom door, clearing the way, barely, for her to pass.
Sarah climbed out of the big bed, careful to keep the oversized sweatshirt she was wearing—one of his, obviously—from riding up. She had a moment's doubt when she hurried past him, standing there all big and hunky and glowering down at her. But she kept moving and quickly shut the door between them. Once inside, she leaned back against the closed door and blew out a breath of relief. That hadn't been so difficult. So he was a big, bad vampire. His minions might scurry around doing his bidding, even Emelie kowtowed to his moody self, but Sarah didn't have to. He'd made it clear there was nothing between them, so who was he to tell her where she could and couldn't go? If she wanted to drop in at every blood house in the city and dance the night away, it was her business not his. Hell, maybe she'd tell him so. That would be a shock to him, wouldn't it? A human weakling telling him where he could shove his macho bullshit? He should go back to Manhattan and all those beautiful women. They probably fell all over him, lining up to open their veins and their legs, too.
By the time she'd finished a quick shower and found an unopened toothbrush to use—and what was that about? Did he bring strange women here all the time that he had to keep a spare toothbrush on hand?— she was ready for the confrontation she knew was coming. He probably expected her to be all apologetic and ashamed. Well, guess again, fang boy.
She found her jeans still hanging on the back of the door from last night. They were somewhat damp having hung there through two showers, but with a few tugs and some chafed skin she finally managed to get them on and zipped. She was still commando beneath them, of course, but it was better than having nothing on at all. She took one look at the too tight, red satin bustier she'd worn, thought about squeezing into it again, and pulled Raj's sweatshirt over her head instead. It was loose enough that she could go braless for the short trip back to her house. There'd be no one to see her but Raj, and he wasn't interested anyway.
She took a deep breath, letting the air slide in and out of her lungs to relieve the stress, and then opened the bathroom door.
Raj was standing on the other side of the room, near the closet, when the bathroom door opened and Sarah stomped out. She immediately began searching for something, ignoring him completely. That surprised him. That and her attitude. He'd expected embarrassment, even shame. He'd thought she might slip into the bedroom quietly, so overcome with guilt that she wouldn't even look at him. He could have dealt with that, had even been prepared to make it easy on her and pretend they could forget the whole humiliating evening. But there she was, marching around, yanking the bedclothes aside, muttering under her breath and bending over in those goddamn tight jeans in a way that was very dangerous. To both of them. He was already hanging by a thread where she was concerned.
She located her shoes, standing first on one foot then the other to slip them on her feet. She was instantly several inches taller, and her legs looked a mile longer. He nearly groaned.
She finally looked at him. “I'd like to leave now."
"I'll take you to the warehouse. Em can arrange—” He stopped and stared at her. She was doing something with her hand, holding it toward him and opening and closing her fingers and thumb like a puppet talking or something. “What the f**k is that?” he demanded.
"That, oh great vampire, is blah, blah, blah. I need to know where my car is, with my things in it, and then I'm going home. If you don't want to drive me there, you can just open that stupid door and let me out of this dungeon. I'll get a taxi. It may surprise you to learn that I've managed on my own for several years with—"
She stopped mid-word, finally shocked into silence by his abrupt presence only inches away from her, her human senses having failed to see him move.
"Tread lightly, little one,” he warned. “You don't want to push me. Not tonight."
Her eyes darkened with anger, narrowing as she met his gaze evenly despite her surprise. “Really? And why is that, Raj? I'm tired of you thinking you have the right to control me. You're not my boyfriend and you're sure as hell not my keeper, so from where I stand, you've got no claim on me whatsoever. Like the song says, you don't want me for yourself so let me find somebody else. It's shit or get off the pot time, Raj. It's now or never. Time to—"
She gave a startled shriek as Raj swung an arm around her waist and lifted her off her feet. He threaded the fingers of one hand through her hair and pulled it aside, freeing the long line of her neck. “Then I choose now,” he growled.
Sarah cried out as Raj sank his fangs into the velvet skin of her neck and punctured the fragile wall of her plump jugular. Her cries turned to moans of pleasure and the blood began to flow, warm and sweet, just as he'd known it would be. She wound her arms around him, cradling his head, holding his mouth against her vein. The first orgasm shuddered through her body and she whispered his name over and over, until she was limp in his arms.
He lifted his head away from her neck and licked the wound closed, savoring the bouquet of her blood, the taste of her skin. She nuzzled against him with a contented sigh and he lifted her higher, cupping her ass in both hands and walking toward the bed.
"Don't get too comfortable, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I'm nowhere near done with you yet.” He lay her down on the bed and stripped away the sweatshirt he'd given her, relishing the sight of every inch of skin as it was revealed to him. He groaned at the sight of her br**sts, full and heavy, with ni**les and areolas so light a pink that he could barely tell where they ended and her pale skin began. Unable to resist, he lowered his head to taste them, sampling each hard, round nipple, feeling it swell in his mouth like a juicy, ripe fruit. Tracing the outlines of her br**sts with his tongue, he moved down her body, unzipping the tight jeans, rolling them off her h*ps and over her flat stomach.
She arched against his hands as he slid the jeans further down her legs, as the cleft of her sex came into view, smooth and velvety but for a small patch of soft blond curls at the top of her mound. He tugged the pants over her feet and tossed them away, then stood and stripped off his own denims.
"Spread your legs for me, Sarah,” he crooned, lowering himself to the bed, sliding his thighs beneath hers. Sarah bit her lip, but spread her thighs enough that her legs straddled his, giving him a bare glimpse of her tender folds. He laughed low in his throat, almost growling as he placed his hands on her knees, running his fingers down the inside of her thighs. “Wider, little one."
She gasped, her entire body blushing with embarrassment as he spread her wide open to his gaze. “Such a pretty pu**y.” He wet one finger in his mouth, reached out and let it glide through her slit, opening her even further to his inspection. “And so wet for me.” He breathed in the sweet scent of her arousal and hummed with pleasure.
"Raj!” she protested, but her body gave her away, her back arched with pleasure, ni**les plump and begging for attention. His finger traveled up to the hard button of her cl*t and lingered, watching her shiver with desire as he circled it over and over again. “Raj,” she repeated, but in a whisper this time, full of longing.
Wanting, needing to taste all of her, he buried his face between her legs, his tongue replacing his fingers, her juices flowing, her cl*t pulsing as he brought her to orgasm after orgasm until she screamed his name, fingers clenched in his hair, jerking spasmodically as if not knowing whether to force him closer or tug him away. His tongue continued to explore her, tasting each new secret valley, while his long, thick fingers teased her from the inside, f**king her, tormenting her, promises of what was to come. She trembled beneath his assault, soaked with the juices of her latest cl**ax, her voice hoarse from crying his name more times than he could count. She moaned suddenly, her head thrashing from side to side. “Raj. Please."
He circled her cl*t with his tongue once more before raising his head enough to ask, “Please, what, little one?"
She shivered beneath him. “I need you inside me. Please."
He slid up her body, rubbing his chin, his chest, the hard length of his c*ck against her sensitized clit. “Tell me what you want, Sarah,” he demanded.
She stared at him, hazel eyes dark with hunger and filled with tears. “Fuck me, Raj. Please f**k me."
He rewarded her with a slow, satisfied grin, spreading her legs wide around his h*ps as he sank between her thighs. There was no need for foreplay. She was soaking wet and ready for him. But she was small. And he was not. He slid into her with a long, slow thrust, feeling her body's resistance as it made room for him. She was tight. So tight. She gasped loudly, her fingers tightening against his arms, the muscles of her slick, hot tunnel squeezing his c*ck in protest at his sudden invasion. He paused for a few seconds, letting her body adjust to his size, and then beginning to move carefully in and out, going deeper with every thrust until her inner muscles softened around him, caressing him in a welcoming embrace.
He thrust hard, sinking himself into her to the hilt as he began f**king her in earnest, driving in and out, holding himself above her with his arms, watching her face, holding her gaze with every thrust of his body. She was murmuring his name, lost in pleasure, her overheated skin gleaming with sweat as she arched upward to meet him. He licked her skin, savoring yet another taste of her, salty and warm. She raised her knees higher and he pushed them against her chest so he could explore even deeper. She cried out and pulled him closer, her nails digging into his back.