Night Flight Part 6

The aftershocks of their shared ecstasy left him trembling. "That's absolutely incredible!" he said when he could speak again.

She purred with delight at his reaction.

Several minutes later, he stumbled to the bathroom and back, then collapsed into sleep. She watched him for a few minutes, smoothing his damp hair, before she, too, dozed off.

Again, though, she didn't stay zoned out for long. Her body demanded relief. When she woke Paul this time, he sighed. "You know I want to, but there are limits. I'm only human."

"Don't worry, I'll...encourage-you." Her nails raked over his chest. He shuddered. Blood beaded along one scratch where she'd miscalculated and broken the skin. Her tongue flicked at the tantalizing drops. Further aroused by the taste, she intensified her caresses. Inevitably his body responded to her urgency. She climbed on top while he lay with his eyes shut, his body slick with sweat. The prolonged coupling that followed gifted her with a continuous stream of o.r.g.a.s.ms, each peak almost overlapping the one before it.

After nearly half an hour, he pulled out and demanded in a pa.s.sion-roughened growl, "Roll over."

"What?" Her head reeled, a crimson fog clouding her vision. "My turn." He prodded her until she lay face down. Grasping her inner thighs, he shoved her legs apart.

"Paul, what are you doing?" She flexed her fingers and dug her claws into the sheet, fighting the panic incited by this moment of helplessness.

Silently except for the rasp of his breath, he hammered into her. With her legs splayed, she arched her hips like a cat in heat to match his pounding rhythm. He rammed more deeply, stretched her more fully, than she had ever imagined possible.

Wide open to him, body and mind, she found herself swept into the whirlwind of his pa.s.sion, as if they were bonded. She drowned in his emotions.

He shuddered with the thrill of her wet heat rippling around his rigid shaft. The climax building in his loins felt like a flood of molten lava ready to erupt. He panted in time with his thrusts, and on every exhaled breath he groaned aloud. Gillian moaned in chorus with him. Her cries made his heart race even faster, and he pounded harder to match the speed of their synchronized pulsebeat. He exulted in the frantic pumping of her hips. He'd unleashed this wildness in her-she wanted him and only him.

"Mine," he breathed. "You're mine. Come with me," he urged, clamping her wrists to the mattress. "That's it, let go, come now-" Seized by a savage impulse, he sank his teeth into the nape of her neck. With a keening moan, she convulsed beneath him. He roared in primal satisfaction.

After a few more strokes he spasmed in release. She howled like a she-wolf as his explosion ignited yet another one in her.

Spent, she sank back into her own body.

When they parted and she stretched out beside him, he summoned the strength to put an arm around her.

"Gillian, honey, that's the most mind-blowing thing I've ever experienced, but it's not exactly fun anymore. I may never move again."

"Rest, then," she whispered. "Sleep." A few seconds of stroking his forehead eased him into oblivion.

After that encounter, she hoped her need had exhausted itself. She got up to take a shower and drink three gla.s.ses of water.

Though she didn't feel hungry now that the s.e.xual drive had slacked off, the exercise had made her dehydrated. For a few minutes she stood on the deck, without bothering to dress, and watched the shimmering heat traces of insects and small animals in the dark woods. The cool air whispered over her bare skin and made the hair on her arms and torso vibrate along with the cilia in her palms.

She wandered back into the bedroom and looked down at Paul. His musky aroma stirred an echo of blood-thirst in the pit of her stomach. She knelt on the mattress and licked perspiration from his chest, savoring the salty tang. He shifted position but didn't wake. Gillian nuzzled his groin and lapped at the tip of his organ. The droplets that clung there tasted intriguingly similar to blood.

Some other time, she looked forward to drinking from that fountain.

She felt her arousal reawakening. Sitting astride his legs, hoping the friction would provide some relief, she continued licking and kissing him until he struggled up to consciousness.

"Gillian, I can't," he groaned. "I'm sorry, but it's just impossible."

"But I need..." She hated to hear herself whimpering in frustration, but she couldn't help it, any more than she could help rocking against his legs to ease the burning that tormented her. Maybe it was true, after all, that a human mate could never satisfy her. If she'd been human herself, the thought would have made her cry.

"Gillian, come up here and let me try...please " Gathering her into his arms, he kissed her open mouth, then each of b.r.e.a.s.t.s in turn, while stroking her in long, languid caresses. She shuddered under his petting. Though his body heat felt wonderful on her hypersensitized skin, the fire between her thighs negated the pleasure.

To her surprise, he plunged two fingers inside her. She arched to meet his probe. Within seconds, she fell into a vigorous copulatory rhythm. It didn't seem to matter that his hand, not his erection, provided the stimulus. She had his warm flesh pressed against her and thrusting inside her, she had the comfort of his scent and taste, his thumb meanwhile teased the swollen bud that contributed more to her delight than she would have expected, and she was spiraling higher, higher...

"I know," he murmured, "like cats." She felt his fingernails sc.r.a.pe the inner wall of her ca.n.a.l. She screamed aloud in release.

He kept up the steady rhythm until her convulsions played themselves out. Finally she relaxed with her head on his shoulder.

"It worked," he said, his breath ruffling her hair. "We've found a solution."

"What did you mean about cats?"

"The tomcat has barbs on his p.e.n.i.s. The stimulation seems to be vital to the copulation process. So I tried to imitate that, thinking it might be similar with your species."

"Interesting." She stretched and snuggled more comfortably against him. "Logical." She decided she was lucky, after all, to have picked a zoologist for a mate.

Over and over they fell into light sleep, then woke to repeat the operation as the peaks and valleys of her arousal demanded.

The ability to please her seemed to satisfy him even though he could no longer share her climaxes. Waves of warmth emanated from him, enfolding her in a rosy cloud of sensual delight. Toward morning, the intervals lengthened. About five a.m., Paul had slept for almost two hours, and with the approach of dawn, Gillian felt the day-sleep beginning to overshadow her.

She was surprised to feel another surge of need. She caressed Paul awake. When he started to pet her, she whispered, "Wait.

This should be the last time-I think you can..."

He lay back and let her vampire seduction work on him. For all her efforts and his willingness, though, his erection rose only to half-mast, while she moaned with impatience. "Let me try something," she said. "Trust me."

Often enough, she'd heard her elders refer to blood-sharing as the ultimate thrill. She'd seen evidence of it in the auras of her father and his lover in the aftermath of encounters she was expected to pretend not to notice. Now she slashed her wrist with her teeth and pressed the trickle of blood to Paul's mouth. For an instant he resisted, but the caress of her free hand lulled him, and he clamped his lips to the wound.

The flick of his tongue sent an electric shock through her. On top of it, she felt his emotions more keenly than ever, heard the chaotic riot of his thoughts-what's she doing, that feels incredible, tastes like champagne-and felt him stunned by the echo of her arousal in his own loins. Almost instantly his erection sprang upright. As she engulfed him and rocked through her climax, she felt her teeth tingling with thirst. She'd promised him, but- "Paul, please!" she moaned.

His thoughts answered her, since his mouth was still occupied with sucking her blood. What's wrong?

"Please...I need to bite."

Then do it!

When her teeth nipped his throat, and his blood gushed into her mouth, she climaxed again, and he came with her.

For an unmeasured time afterward, they lay motionless, their thoughts so intertwined that Gillian couldn't tell his from her own.

She hadn't realized how intimate the union would be. It frightened her, opening her thoughts to an ephemeral, and yet the joy of the sharing was worth it.

After a while Paul disengaged his body from hers and sat up. "Hey, what was that?"

"Bonding," she said, gazing at him from under half-open eyelids. "Two-way blood-sharing makes us telepathically linked."

"You didn't mention that." She sensed a wariness in him.

"I wasn't thinking. I just needed to be close to you and let you feel what I felt."

"And now you're in my head." He shakily stood up. "I'm not sure how I feel about that."

His withdrawal puzzled her. He had enjoyed what they shared as much as she had. Why didn't she feel the simple, pleasantly exhausted satisfaction she felt? "My cycle is finished now. We don't have to be inside each other's thoughts any more than we want to."

"Finished, huh?" A whipcrack of anger accompanied the words. "Just like that. You've gotten what you want, so you don't need me anymore."

"I don't understand...haven't you had more than enough of my demands? I thought you wanted it to be over-"

His irritation faded as quickly as it had sparked. He picked up his shorts from the floor. "Look, I'm worn out, and you probably need to sleep."

"Yes. Oh-when I'm asleep during the day, I look sort of, well, dead. Don't let it worry you."

"Yeah, right." His lips twisted in a wry smile. "After last night, I won't give a second thought to a little thing like that." He walked gingerly toward the bedroom door. Her own muscles reflected the soreness in his, and she wished he would let her ma.s.sage the pain out. Instead of responding to that tentative thought, he said, "I'll crash in the guest room so you won't be disturbed when I get up."

Though she felt an emptiness when he'd left the room, her fatigue didn't let her brood for long. The daylight coma instantly overwhelmed her.

Chapter Eleven

The moment she woke, well into the evening, Gillian extended her mental antennae in search of Paul. When she brushed the fringe of his thoughts, he rebuffed her in a tone like a slap.

Stay out of my skull.

She curled up and hugged herself for a few minutes, until the sting of that command faded. She'd witnessed the profound union between Roger and Britt, seen the love flowing between them. Why did Paul react to the bond so differently?

Gillian showered and dressed, resisting the impulse to send Paul another telepathic greeting, but constantly aware of his presence in the house, moving from room to room.

She went into the kitchen, where he silently poured her a gla.s.s of milk. The aroma of bacon and eggs pervaded the air. Sitting at the table, she watched him serve himself a plate from the stove. Only when he sat opposite her with his food and a gla.s.s of orange juice did he finally speak.

"How often is this going to happen? Every seven years, like a Vulcan?"

She didn't pretend not to understand the question. "No more than twice a decade, normally."

"That's a relief," he said without a trace of a smile. "Any more would probably kill me. That's a.s.suming we ever do it again."

She almost choked on a swallow of milk. "Why wouldn't we?"

"Next time you'll have plenty of warning to find a mate of your own species. I figure now that I've serviced you, we go back to being just collaborators, right?"

"Serviced? Is that how you see it?" His cold manner baffled her. "Why would you think that? We share a blood bond now.

Our relationship can't be casual."

"A bond you created without asking me. That's a heck of a lot more serious than hypnotizing me a couple of times." She felt him bristle with outrage like a porcupine spreading its quills.

"You enjoyed it as much as I did."

"d.a.m.n it, that's not the point!" He shoveled in a few bites of fried egg. "You invaded my mind. Can't you understand why that bothers me?"

"I'm trying to. Paul, I didn't plot to take control of your brain and turn you into a zombie. I wanted to let you share what I was feeling. What's wrong with that?"

"You could've asked." "I didn't think it out. I acted in the heat of pa.s.sion. Plus, I really didn't know how intense it would be. After all, I don't make a habit of this."

"Yeah?" Chomping on a slice of bacon, he stared at her for a minute. "You never did this blood bond thing before?"

"Only with my mentor, and that's not the same at all."

"So maybe you have some excuse. But I'm still not sure how I feel. I need to think about it. This is a h.e.l.l of an information load to process." He pushed his half-empty plate aside and stood up.

"You haven't finished eating. You need nourishment after last night."

"I can feed myself without you giving me orders." He headed for the back door. "I'm going for a walk."

"Okay, we can talk about-"

"Alone. I said I have to think, and that means without your...influence. My brain doesn't work right when you're around."

After he'd left, she drank the rest of her milk and fought the urge to follow him telepathically. Already his absence made her feel half-empty. How would she endure it if he continued to reject her? She wandered into the office and settled down to read some of his rough drafts. The thought of collaborating with Paul in this strained mode chilled her. Which would be worse, never seeing or touching him again, or working with him while this barrier separated them?

Oh, no, I think I'm addicted! She'd been warned about the risk of feeding too often from one victim or feeding at all from a donor she was emotionally entangled with. Yet the warnings hadn't given her any inkling of how fast and hard the condition could strike.

Giving up on work, she poured herself a gla.s.s of wine and sat on the deck in the deepening twilight. How long would Paul stay away? He couldn't hike around in the woods all night, could he?

She'd nearly finished the wine when a mental scream ripped through her brain. Paul! She leaped to her feet and extended her thoughts toward him.

Stay away from me, Gillian, it's a trap.

Ignoring his plea, she insinuated herself into his senses. For a few seconds she saw through Paul's eyes. A man led him to a car parked on an otherwise deserted dirt road. Luciano. Paul's mind still functioned, but his body obeyed the vampire's commands.

Relaxing the link for the moment, Gillian hurried into the cabin, scrambled into her shoes, and rummaged through the junk on Paul's bedroom dresser. She thanked the Dark Powers that he wasn't one of those men who automatically loaded their pockets whenever they dressed. She found his car keys almost immediately. Alone, she could have shapechanged and flown to intercept the pair, but she would need the car for Paul.

Of course he was right about the trap, but that fact was irrelevant. She couldn't leave him in Luciano's hands.

In the car she opened her mind to Paul's without making him aware of the contact. He drew her like one magnetic pole attracting its opposite. The only way she could lose the trail would be if her target drove out of telepathic range. Despite her frustration at having to follow the windings of back roads through the trees instead of making a crow's -flight straight shot to the location, it took her less than an hour to catch up with Luciano. She found his vehicle, a rented four-door sedan, parked in the driveway of a cabin slightly similar to Paul's. She screeched to a stop on the side of the road, jammed the keys in her pocket, and raced toward the house.

Luciano stepped onto the front porch, leaving the door open behind him. Sensing Paul's presence inside-awake, unharmed- she itched to shove the other vampire out of the way and barge in. She knew, though, that Luciano's greater strength would make that difficult.

He greeted her with a gloating smile. "I expected to have to telephone you. I planned to let you suffer awhile, then tell you where I'd taken your pet. How did you get here?"

Her lips curled in an involuntary snarl. She had to inhale and exhale several times to bring her voice under control. "Never mind that. Let me see him."