Stefan's Salvation, page 17
He dipped two fingers past her entrance, coating them with her juices. Her inner muscles gripped him tight, and she gave a cry of dismay when he pulled his hand away from her. He traced the swollen folds of her sex, loving how wet his hand was when he withdrew it. “You are so hot for me. Aren’t you, baby?”
“Yes,” she moaned, pushing her bottom back against him.
Stefan stroked her again, this time sliding one thick finger into her heated core. She sucked in a breath and moaned. He pulled back and circled the outer edges of her opening before plunging two fingers deep. Christ, she was tight and so wet it made his balls ache.
She bucked against his hand, going up on her toes, her entire body taut with desire.
“That’s it, sweetheart. Damn, you feel good.” He added a third finger, stretching her to the max.
It was his turn to groan when she pushed back against his hand, driving his fingers deeper. Her tight channel contracted and relaxed around him. His cock was throbbing nonstop now. Liquid seeped from the tip. He had to get inside her but wanted to see her come first. He couldn’t get enough of her pleasure.
He withdrew slowly, curling his fingers as he pulled back. He found the sweet spot and she cried out, her legs trembling. He reached around with his free hand and stroked a finger over her clit.
“Yes,” she hissed. “More.”
He loved watching her as he pleasured her. Her skin had a rosy glow. He wanted to rub himself all over her so he smelled like her and she like him. He’d never been this possessive over a woman in all the centuries he’d lived.
“Stefan.” The demand in her voice goaded him. Every muscle in his body was tense. One wrong move and he’d spill his seed before he ever got inside her. He was torn between wanting to draw out her pleasure longer and the burning need to bury his cock deep in her hot depths.
He withdrew his fingers and thrust them deep into her slit. She moaned and drove her hips back. He was panting hard, barely hanging on to control.
He stroked her clit and drove his fingers into her one final time. She came hard and fast, sobbing and shaking. Stefan gritted his teeth, barely hanging on, riding out her orgasm to the end.
When she slumped against the dresser gasping for breath and shaking with the aftermath of her orgasm, he carefully withdrew his fingers from her body. There was no time to waste. He yanked off his boots and tossed them aside before hauling off his jeans. Naked, he once again moved behind her. Now it was his turn.
• • •
Laurel Rose rested her forehead against the smooth wood of the dresser and sucked much-needed air into her starving lungs. Her knees trembled but she fought not to give in to the weakness. Her explosive orgasm had shattered her, which was amazing considering it had followed so quickly behind the last one. What she’d once thought impossible was now the new normal. No other woman in the world had a lover like hers.
She slowly raised her head off the dresser and peered into the mirror. Still bracing her hands on the top for support, she stared at Stefan’s reflection. He stood just off to the side, his cock jutting out in front of him, the bulbous head red and wet.
She couldn’t take her eyes off him as he moved in behind her. The heat from his chest and arms surrounded her. She inhaled his musky male scent. It was tinged with the crisp air of the outdoors and the pleasant scent from the wood he’d chopped earlier. He leaned inward, covering her hands with his where they rested on the dresser.
“Laurel Rose.” He whispered her name like a prayer, a benediction. He pressed the head of his shaft against her and flexed his hips. He didn’t stop until he was buried to the hilt.
The candlelight flickered in the mirror. Both their bodies glistened with sweat. His chest was pressed against her back, and she could feel the pounding rhythm of his heart against her skin. It matched the uneven, hard rhythm of hers. Biting her lip against the growing pleasure, she tilted her hips toward him, trying to take him even deeper.
She couldn’t get enough of him even though they made love often. It felt as though she was storing up memories of their time together. She couldn’t shake the feeling that their time together was limited, that something would happen to steal away the happiness she’d found with him.
Determined to put such dour thoughts out of her head, she focused on the blistering pleasure of the present. “Now, Stefan. I need you now.”
“You’re mine.” His deep growl made all the hairs on her body stand on end.
“Yes.” She was his, body and soul. “And you’re mine.”
His eyes changed, the green swallowed up by a reddish glow. His fangs lengthened and he straightened his spine, the motion driving him deeper than she ever imagined.
He splayed one hand over her stomach and cupped one of her breasts with the other. Then he began to fuck her. Hard. A bottle of lotion tipped off the edge of the dresser and crashed to the floor. Some loose change and her keys rattled with every thrust. His hips flexed as he slammed into her again and again. The slap of their damp skin echoed throughout the room. Coupled with the sound of their groans and their gasps for breath, it created an erotic music to accompany their mating dance.
Laurel Rose gripped the edge of the dresser for balance as each thrust sent her up onto her toes. “Harder,” she moaned. She tried to push back on each upward stroke, wanting him as deep inside as she could get him.
Rolling her nipple in his fingers, he pinched it harder with each stroke. The hand on her stomach shifted lower until his fingers were teasing her clit with every thrust. Her entire body was alive with sensations. The fires of her desire were burning out of control.
The last thrust took her right off her feet and sent her body into a screaming orgasm. Every nerve ending felt alive. She felt the hot flood of his release as he came. Her thighs quivered. Her inner muscles clenched at his cock, milking him dry.
He pushed even deeper, drawing another moan and sending new spasms rocketing throughout her body. Chest heaving, she tried to suck air into her starving lungs. She would have collapsed if Stefan hadn’t held her in his arms.
He continued to pleasure her with his hands even as he ground his cock into her, not yet ready to release her. She knew he wasn’t finished. Not yet. He lowered his head to the side of her neck. Like a hot knife through butter, his sharp fangs pierced her skin. His eyes met hers in the mirror as he fed from her, drawing nourishment and strength from her blood.
Her body convulsed once again. Stefan smiled and continued to drink. The pleasure combined with the loss of blood was too much and the room began to fade around Laurel Rose.
When he retracted his fangs from her neck and withdrew his cock from her body, she opened her mouth to protest, but what came out was more of a whimper. She didn’t want him to leave her.
“I will never leave you.” His fierce growl comforted her. He scooped her into his arms and held her so tightly she could hardly breathe, but she felt utterly safe and secure. Stefan would watch over her until she was fully recovered.
Comforted by that thought, Laurel Rose allowed exhaustion to overtake her. She was still smiling when she felt herself drift off to sleep.
Chapter Twenty-one
The sun was streaming through the window when Laurel Rose finally awoke. Waking late was getting to be a habit since Stefan had come into her life. Before him, she’d risen at sunrise most mornings.
She automatically reached out her hand to find him, but it met nothing but empty bed. Stefan was long gone. Of course he was gone. The sun was up.
She had a vague memory of him waking her to kiss her goodbye just before dawn. His hair had been damp and the smell of her lavender soap had wafted over her. Obviously he’d been up and about long enough to shower before heading out to the safety of his truck. She’d never gotten around to asking him if there was some way to make her bedroom safe for him to sleep in.
Burying her face in her pillow, she moaned as his scent tickled her nostrils. She couldn’t believe she’d overslept yet again. Stefan was playing havoc with her work schedule. A small smile played around the corners of her mouth as she replayed last night in her mind. It wasn’t such a bad trade-off, all things considered.
A shiver skated down her spine at the memory. They needed to talk. She’d wanted to talk to him the last few days about what the future held for them. But every time she tried to bring it up, he either changed the subject, asked her a question about her life, or distracted her with sex. Not that she was complaining, but they had to talk about it eventually.
Admittedly, it had been she who’d distracted him with sex last night. Well, maybe it had been a mutual seduction. Her smile grew bigger. Scratch that, it had definitely been mutual.
And while she didn’t regret it, she knew she couldn’t go on like this much longer. She had to know what her options were and what he’d meant that day when he said she could become like him.
Was such a thing truly possible? How could it happen? Was it like the folklore suggested? Would she have to die to become a vampire? What would her life be like if she chose to do such a thing, assuming he still wanted her to? Her smile disappeared and a frown took its place.
She loved him. Of that there was no doubt. What was in doubt was how their relationship would proceed from here. It was time to make some decisions. Tonight she would make him sit down with her to talk and she would not allow him to distract her. She grinned wryly. Well, she’d give it her best shot. Stefan could be most distracting.
Laurel Rose tossed back the covers and rolled out of bed. Her weak leg objected when she stood, but she ignored the pain shooting down her thigh. Not moving only made the problem worse.
She raised her arms over her head and stretched. Her body protested the movement and she groaned. Stefan’s lovemaking sure gave her a workout. A soak in the bathtub with some scented Epsom salts would do wonders for the slight aches in her muscles, not to mention helping her leg.
She’d have to make a quick trip to town at some point today to mail some orders that had come in through her website. She decided it was best to get all her work done around home early in the day and go to town later in the afternoon. Decision made, she hurried down the hall to the bathroom as fast as she could, which really wasn’t all that fast considering she was so stiff. But she was smiling when she turned on the taps and started running hot water into the tub.
• • •
Laurel Rose was smiling again later that afternoon as she drove up the curving mountain road, winding her way home. Her packages were mailed and her trip into Salvation had been uneventful. When she’d checked her postbox at the post office, she’d been pleasantly surprised to find another order for one of her rugs, complete with a check for several hundred dollars. It was from a regular customer who had bought several of Laurel Rose’s rugs in the past for her family and friends. She’d made a quick stop at the bank and deposited the check before stopping at the grocery store on the way home.
Anytime you got unexpected money a celebration was in order. She’d used the order and check as an excuse to buy a container of cookie-dough ice cream. And not the cheap bargain brand. The good stuff.
She glanced at the bag sitting on the seat next to her, wishing she had a spoon so she could dig right in and have some of the treat. It wasn’t often she indulged, but when she did, she enjoyed it to the fullest. She wasn’t sure if Stefan would want any. He ate very rarely, mostly content to watch her eat. But every now and then he had a few bites of something she cooked. She’d asked him about that, her curiosity getting the better of her. It had surprised her to find out that he could eat small amounts of food and that he enjoyed wine on occasion as well. He didn’t need it to survive, but his body could handle food in a controlled quantity.
That was just one more piece of information that she filed away in her mind. Perhaps she wouldn’t mind being like Stefan if she could occasionally indulge in cookie-dough ice cream. Her stomach growled and she laughed at herself. She’d be home in another five minutes, and two minutes after that she’d be digging into her treat.
The car came out of nowhere. One minute she was alone on the winding road thinking about ice cream and Stefan, the next it was right behind her. Big and dark, the vehicle picked up speed until it was almost on her bumper. The driver jerked to the right at the same time Laurel Rose heard a loud popping sound.
Her truck tilted and the steering wheel jerked as her back tire blew. She clenched the wheel, desperately trying to control the vehicle as it swerved toward the edge of the pavement. There was barely any shoulder and no railing on the winding, narrow stretch of road. The tires on the driver’s side both skidded onto the dirt. She tried to pull the vehicle back but the edge ran out and the truck slid down a small embankment. Tree branches scraped the sides. She hit a rock and bounced hard before pulling the wheel to the left.
She was terrified she was going to die. She flashed back to the accident she’d had years ago, the one that had left her scarred, both physically and mentally. She didn’t want to die, didn’t want to leave Stefan. She clung to the wheel, trying to control her mad descent.
The truck bounced over the uneven ground. She jammed her foot down on the brake and struggled to turn away from the stand of trees rushing toward her. But there was no avoiding them. Nowhere to go.
The impact jarred her and she hit her head a split second before the airbag deployed. Her seat belt snapped her backward, pulling tight across her hips and chest. Glass shattered and metal groaned as the vehicle came to an abrupt stop.
The silence was deafening. After the frantic pace of the past few seconds it felt almost strange to be still.
Dazed, her first thought was for her ice cream, which was no longer on the seat next to her. Instead, a huge tree branch filled the space on the passenger side. It had broken through the windshield and skewered the seat. If there had been anyone sitting next to her they’d most likely be dead.
Laurel Rose swallowed hard and looked away. The absolute quiet after the grinding crash was unnerving. The whole incident was surreal. Memories of the last accident she’d been in threatened to overwhelm her, but she shook them off. She couldn’t help herself if she panicked. She was alive. That was all that mattered.
She took a deep breath and began to take stock of herself. She wiggled her toes and immediately relaxed. There was no pain in her legs and they both seemed fine. Her head, however, was another matter. She raised her hand and touched her fingertips to the side of her face. It was sticky, and when she drew her hand away her fingers were coated in red. She was bleeding.
With shaking hands, she fumbled for her seat belt. It took her three tries to get the buckle undone, and she groaned when the belt slid away from her body. It had probably saved her life, but she was going to have one heck of a bruise. Her midsection already felt tender. She blinked as blood trickled into her eye and made another swipe at her forehead. It was surprisingly hard to do. She felt incredibly tired. All she wanted to do was close her eyes and go to sleep.
No! That was the last thing she should do. She forced herself to focus on her surroundings. She had to get out of the truck. She was far enough off the road that anyone passing by probably wouldn’t even see her. She needed to climb up the side of the bank and start walking toward home. The road wasn’t traveled very often, but someone might see her and stop to help. But that wouldn’t happen if she didn’t move.
There’d been a car right behind her on the road, hadn’t there? She frowned and tried to remember, but it was difficult to think straight. Maybe they’d stop to help.
Licking her dry lips, she took a deep breath. Moving was going to hurt like hell, but she had no choice. Her mind registered the sound of something crashing through the bushes a second before the driver’s-side door was wrenched open. The grating sound hurt her head and she closed her eyes and moaned.
“Laurel Rose, are you all right?”
The voice was familiar and she resisted the urge to groan again. Just when she thought it couldn’t get worse. She knew she should be grateful, and she would be, but right now she was cursing the fates. Why did her rescuer have to be Jeremiah Stoner? He must have been in the vehicle behind her on the road.
Opening her eyes, she saw concern and then relief on his face. “I’m okay.”
“Good. When you went over the side, I was afraid you’d be killed.” His voice settled into its familiar deep, hypnotic tones.
“I had a blowout.” Everything was becoming clearer to her now. She remembered the sound of the tire popping before she lost control of the truck. It was just her bad luck for it to happen on such a winding, bad spot on the road. It couldn’t have happened at a worse place.
“I know.”
Something in the tone of his voice caused her stomach to clench, but she forced herself to relax. She might not like the man, but he was a pastor at a local church, for heaven’s sake, and he was here to help her. “Just bad luck, I guess.” She forced herself to move, swiveling in her seat so that she could climb out of the wreck. Jeremiah stepped back to give her room, but he was still far too close for her liking. But there was no getting around the fact that she needed his help.
“More like divine providence.” Her head snapped up and she really looked at him for the first time. His eyes gleamed with maniacal glee as he wrapped his hand around her upper arm. A beam of sunshine caught the metal of the gun gripped in his right hand. “I waited several hours for you to come home. I would have been very angry with you if you’d gotten yourself killed before it was time.”
“You shot out my tire.” She could hear the surprise and disbelief in her voice. That’s why he’d driven so close to her. She hadn’t had a blowout, it had been deliberate.
