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Fuck. He leaned against the bar because he figured his profile, even with the denim, was pretty obvious.
Straighten up, cowboy. Her voice was sharp. Be proud of what pleasures your Mistress.
Damn if he didn't do it, because as the command resounded through his head, he felt that response leap to life inside him. His response aroused her, and hers, his, a powerful, never-ending spiral.
That was the key to it, wasn't it? When he pictured himself bending over, letting some guy take him up the ass, he knew no way in hell could he do that. But when he put her in the picture...
That purring voice, those eyes so close as she drew him down upon her on the bed, telling him to fuck her as some guy approached behind, ran a hand down his back, parted his cheeks and... Quinn would plunge into her pussy, and it would be all about her. He'd come because she was using him for her pleasure.
If it was for her, he could do it.
Admittedly, only if it was once in a while, like for birthdays, Christmas and the annual head-vampire muckety-muck get-together. He much preferred it being just the two of them. He really didn't want to share or be shared. But he really didn't want to muck out stalls or prepare for taxes. He didn't like going to the dentist and having him stick his hands in his mouth. But he did those things because they went along with the things he really did want. A successful ranch, a job well done, a life worth living, the good and bad all part of it.
Knowing in his gut that Selene wanted it to be just the two of them, living their quiet life out here, would help make the distasteful stuff even more feasible to him.
His dad had given him the sex talk, but his mom had followed it up with the love and marriage talk.
One day you'll want to be with a girl always, like your father and I have done. I see your heart. Out of all your brothers, you're the one with the deepest wish for a forever kind of thing, even though right now it's boiling among all those hormones. She'd given him an affectionate swat as he flushed, ducked his head.
That's normal, boy. But when you do find her, there's this odd thing about loving someone. Sometimes it's more bad than good. You have hard times together. It isn't easy, fitting your life together with another and making it work year after year. But I can promise you, if you're meant to be, you'll figure out one good moment is stronger than ten bad ones. Love is worth it, and if you have love, you figure out how to make things work. Then even the bad stuff becomes part of loving someone, as much as the good.
"Here you go, boss." The bartender broke into his thoughts, pushing the two drinks across the bar to him.
Quinn nodded, handed over the money, then made his way back through the crowd. The dinner crowd had died off and was being replaced by the drinking and dancing crowd, making the noise level rowdier, the crowd bigger. He was startled but not entirely surprised when he passed a group of girls and one of them took the opportunity to grab his ass. Hell, big as his dick was, he was lucky she hadn't tried for that. He maneuvered out of her grasp, gave her a genial look and a faint grin, the courteous body language of "Appreciate it, honey, but not available" and took another couple steps. Then Selene was there.
Because of the crush of people, no one would have noted she'd gotten there so quick, but he saw the occupants of a couple tables behind her grabbing hold of their napkins as they seemed to flutter from a passing wind for no reason. But what had him putting the drinks down on a side table just as fast was her expression.
Those blue eyes were charged with those unnatural crimson flickers, and God above, he could see the tips of her fangs coming out as she got right up in the hapless half-drunk girl's face. The vibe she was putting off was scary enough to sober the kid right up.
"Not. Yours." Selene hissed, her hand curling around the edge of the table as if she might be a breath away from hurling it.
The girl's brown eyes were wide as saucers. On a usual day, facing something normal, she looked like the feisty sort who might have made a smart-ass remark, started a catfight, but every animal in the world, even human, knew when they were facing something far more dangerous than themselves.
She lifted both hands, palms up, and shrank back in the chair. "I-I'm sorry," she stammered. "We were just playing."
"Play with something else."
Not sure if it was the best decision, Quinn slid an arm around his Mistress' waist, gave it a faint squeeze, a pressure to move them toward the door. She was just admiring your taste, Mistress. She's young and drunk. It's okay. She's just a kid.
Something shuddered through Selene. She'd mentioned something about a marked servant being able to lend energy, and apparently a second mark could do some of that, because he actually felt her reach into him, dip into his calm like a well to quench thirst.
She might be his Mistress, but he also had power. To influence, encourage, persuade her where no one else might be able to do the same. He could use it right now, to help her in this situation. Tightening his grip, he brushed his lips against her temple as if it was just the two of them, no one else.
Let's go somewhere else. My Mistress wants to fuck me, prove I'm hers. I'm all for that.
Stiffly, Selene straightened. Taking the cue, Quinn gripped her hand, left the drinks behind and headed for the door. He'd have told the girls they could have the beer and mojito if they wanted them, but he thought it best if he just focused on Selene.
Once outside, he took them toward his truck. Selene was wooden and silent, perhaps fighting her emotions. Then she decided to turn the aggression outward.
She didn't push him back against the truck. She shoved him, such that he almost had to dig his boot heels into the asphalt to keep from going through it. As it was, he was pretty sure his ass print was going to be permanently embedded in the door panel. But he had other things to occupy his mind other than body work. Well, body work on the truck.
She had herself against him, leaving her high heels behind to step on his feet, raise up and claim his mouth. He was more than willing to match her passion, bending to make it easier on her, his arms closing over her, both hands taking a nice handful of her ass and hiking her up his body. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, his back, his nape, tugging on his hair as she scored his lips with her fangs, delved deep with her tongue, stroking his. Her need washed over him, took everything else away.
He realized he was making a noise like a soothing growl, conveying his eager lust and confirming he was all hers.
Right here. Now. Keeping one arm looped over his neck, she reached down between them, tugged at his belt and slipped the top button of his jeans, pushing the zipper down so she could reach right in beneath his shorts, close her hot hand around his throbbing cock. She stroked it with clever, knowledgeable fingers, had his arms tightening around her, his hips bucking into it.
"Christ, Selene. Wait..."
"No waiting. You'll come for your Mistress like this, any way she wants it."
"Let me be inside you." He grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanked her head back to look at him. She made that dangerous hiss at him, showing her fangs, and he closed his mouth back over hers, growling more aggressively this time as she bit him, tasted his blood. I want to fuck you. Make you scream, Mistress.
In the truck. That's as long as I'll wait.
He didn't have a vampire's speed, but he managed to get around to the passenger side and put the two of them into that seat, the door closed and locked, pretty damn fast. She straddled him, and he pushed his jeans out of the way as she came down on him, rubbing the silk of her panties against his length. Reaching beneath the short skirt, he tore the panties away, not in the mood to be much more patient than she was. She slammed down on his cock, her pussy already so wet there was no resistance beyond accommodating his thick size. Her internal muscles clenched him, and as she began to rise and fall, he wanted to taste every part of her. He tugged the strap of her dress off her shoulder, revealing her breast cradled high and quivering in a tiny scrap of bra that barely covered her nipple.
He
slid an arm over her back, brought her down to him as her hips pistoned. He kissed and licked his way over her generous curves, tugging down the other side of the dress so he could play in the valley between, curl his tongue along one lace-edged curve and find her nipple beneath, lash at it. His cock was in seventh heaven, her slick pussy clamped like a vise over him as she drove them purely for her own pleasure. All he wanted was to give her more.
"Come for me, Quinn," she ordered. He caught the flash of her eye before she lifted her chin, arched back, her own body tightening in climactic response. "I want to feel you."
Damn if the order alone didn't shove him the last few steps up that ladder and launch him off the end. His mind might still fight with the idea of how she could overwhelm his will, but his body had no questions, the issue resolved for all time as far as it was concerned.
He came hard, groaning and grunting like a rutting bull, and she cried out her release in a way that twined with his, resounded through the truck, made the noises reverberate inside the small space, become part of the sensations vibrating through them.
Before he'd barely finished jetting that last hard shot of seed into her, she was moving down his body, mouth and teeth tasting his chest, the ridges of his abdomen. She was such a petite thing, she made it to the floorboards, and when she did, she had hold of the jeans and pulled them down to his knees, leaving him bare-assed on the seat.
