Fangs, Fur & Mistletoe Page 4

  In. One thousand.

  Out. One thousand.

  In. One thousand.

  Out. One thousand.

  He paused for several heartbeats, just the tip inside her sweet pussy. She was smooth as silk… all over. He’d known she would be. Despite her fierceness as a vampire warrior, she was undeniably feminine. She would like the luxuries in life.

  “Wolf!” Her shout of frustration echoed across the jungle once again.

  He quieted her with a kiss. “Shh… do you want some animal to come find us? This is a delicate time, yes?”

  She laughed against his cheek and her fingers speared into his hair. “I’ll protect you, cher.”

  He smiled, loving her sense of humor. He’d never been with a woman who could make him laugh during sex and want to forgo his orgasm just so he could keep her in his arms, keep his cock inside her.

  “Then I shall make you come.” He gave three quick strokes, his balls swinging up to meet her ass. “Are you ready, love?”

  She started muttering in French. Maddening ass or something like that. His French was rusty, but he knew when a woman was ready.

  Keeping her wedged between his body and the tree, he retracted his claws. Adjusting his stance, he reached between them and flicked her clit gently. Back and forth, until… there it was. That sigh of bliss. Surrender. That moment where she wanted to move, to make herself come. To take over. But she was powerless to do so because he had her right where he wanted her. Teetering on the precipice of ultimate pleasure.

  Her legs tightened around his hips until he thought he might be severed in two. She wasn’t playing fair. She was supposed to come first. He wanted to feel her milking his cock.

  “Now. S’il vous plait.” Her voice was so husky that he gave in.

  Holding her hips between his hands, he gave over to the need to drive into her, to find his release.

  Panting from exertion and desire, he pistoned into her for all he was worth. The friction warmed her skin.

  “Close,” she hissed.

  The muscles wrapped around his cock started to ripple and tighten.

  So close.

  His balls drew tight and his blood rushed south. The edges of his vision went dark and he felt a little dizzy. She fisted her fingers in his hair as her body tightened around him. Arms, legs, skin.

  He sought her lips and swept his tongue inside. The sharp points of her teeth pricked him and he tasted his own blood. Growling low in his throat, he gave one final thrust and emptied himself inside her.

  Delightful moans met his ears as her cunt milked his cock. She didn’t stop sucking on his tongue until they were both spent.

  He couldn’t be sure how many minutes passed before she lifted her head from his shoulder and gave him the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen. Wide, happy, no teeth, though. It was the smile of a well pleasured woman.

  There was something going through her mind, but she was shielding her thoughts. Then, as if she’d made up her mind, she glanced to her left. Then back at him. Coy. Seductive. “Shall we head back to your room?”

  Grayson couldn’t pull his shorts up fast enough.

  Chapter Four

  Coco woke just after sundown feeling supremely guilty for staying out all night and not telling anyone where she was. One of the things she liked most about being in a coven was the sense of family. Valencia and the others always had her back. And though the war was over and covens almost seemed old-fashioned these days, they still had an unwritten policy to keep each other informed of their whereabouts.

  Luckily, Avery and Izzy hadn’t been at the cottage to give her the third degree when she’d returned just before sunup. Valencia had simply asked if Coco was enjoying the island.

  Enjoying a certain werewolf was more like it.

  The knock at her door brought her into a sitting position.

  “Coco?” It was Izzy.

  “Come in, Iz.” She’d wondered where Izzy had ended up. By the bemused look on her face and the state of her long blonde hair, well, Coco knew all she needed to know about the other vamp’s night. And day, for that matter.

  “I’m exhausted,” Izzy said, flopping face first onto the other bed.

  “I keep telling you, cherie, don’t stay up past your bedtime.”

  Izzy simply waved a hand. Coco had the feeling that the other woman was already halfway to dreamland.

  There was another knock at the door. Izzy grumbled.

  Laughing softly, Coco got up and answered the door. Poor kid. She was going to have to learn even immortals had to sleep sometime.

  Valencia stood on the other side, looking as regal as ever. Impeccably dressed, perfectly applied eyeliner, thick jet-black lashes. If Coco didn’t love her, she’d be jealous of how put together the other woman was. V held a large flat box in her hands. “This just arrived for you.”

  The box had a wide gold stripe down the middle and bore the resort’s name.

  Frowning, Coco took the box. “Merci.”

  “You’ve found a suitor already?” Valencia smiled.

  Coco knew Valencia expected her to be on the lookout for her forever man. For as long as they’d known each other, Coco had been the one to believe in love and romance. Always willing to date a guy to see if he was a prince or a toad. Where Valencia was cynical, Coco had always been hopeful.

  But after seven hundred and forty-seven men, sixteen proposals, and more unhappy endings than she cared to count, she, Coco Jeffres, was not interested in finding her mate. Tonight she didn’t need hope or romance or a Prince Charming. She just needed a hot wolf to make her melt.

  “I guess that depends on what’s in the box,” Coco teased.

  Valencia gave a soft, quick laugh.

  “Big plans for tonight?” Coco asked.

  There was a quick shake of Valencia’s head. “I have an appointment with Rajik for a massage and then a facial.” Coco enjoyed the way Valencia stretched out the masseuse’s name, like a long, thorough caress. Rajjjj-eeek.

  “Have fun.” While Coco enjoyed a good massage as much as the next girl, there was no replacement for how she felt in her wolf’s arms, his lips on hers, his cock, hard and thick inside her.

  The corners of V’s mouth turned up. “And you.”

  Coco shut the door and stared down at the box. A trickle of excitement made her tremble. The handsome wolf was up to something. She headed straight for the bathroom and hit the light switch with her elbow.

  After laying the box on the long, granite counter, she removed the lid. Holding her breath, she pulled back the tissue and saw lace. Black lace, encrusted with tiny black stones that winked up at her.

  Sighing, she pulled the garment from the box and a note fell to the floor.

  An exquisite dress for an exquisite lady. Meet me on the beach behind the hotel at 11:30.

  ~G

  He was absolutely right about that. It was exquisite. She held it in front of her, admiring the bodice and frothy tulle skirt. Sleeveless. She loved sleeveless. She had the perfect shoes to wear with it. But rather than repeat last night, she was going to go barefoot.

  After squeezing into the dress (she really could have used his help with the zipper), she did her makeup. Thank gods for kiss-proof lipstick in her favorite Luscious Red. She pulled her hair back at the nape of her neck with a clip and checked her reflection one last time.

  As good as it was going to get with such limited notice.

  Shaking like a leaf, she made her way to the beach and started toward the hotel. In all her years, she’d never had a man pick out her clothes. There was something ridiculously sexy about it, knowing that he’d selected the dress with her in mind. Had probably thought of how she would look in it. Perhaps even let his mind wander to how he’d take it off.

  She’d wanted to get her mojo back. Find a man who made her feel desired. She’d certainly done that. And the funny thing was, she’d been in his arms twice now, across two centuries, and she still didn’t know his name. But who coul
d blame her, she’d had more important things on her mind.

  The moonlight glittered across the waves and she decided that she could stay here forever. Away from the tensions of the world. Hidden away in her own corner, her own oasis.

  Farther down the beach she spotted her wolf. Even with his back to her, she knew it was him. His height, the unruly locks of sun-kissed hair. When he touched her, she had a glimpse of what it must feel like to have the sun on her skin.

  He must have felt her gaze because he turned toward her. A tuxedo hugged his tall frame, and her fangs lengthened. Unlike her, he was actually wearing shoes. He started toward her, purpose in every step.

  They stopped an arm’s length apart. Coco had seen her share of handsome men. Men in all manner of attire. And across a dozen decades. But she’d never seen a man look so damn hot in a tux. Blacker than the sky above with a crisp shirt that would make the moon envious. And the way his hair curled over the collar, giving him just the right hint of bad-boy…

  “I was right,” he said, his voice laced with pleasure.

  Why did she feel so short of breath? “About?”

  “You look amazing. That dress was meant for you.”

  She smiled and stepped forward, placing her right hand over his heart. “You clean up pretty well yourself.”

  The corners of his oh-so-kissable lips curved up into a sexy smile. She felt something inside of her squeeze and wondered what he’d look like in another ten years. Maybe standing beneath a golden autumn tree. Or atop a snow-covered mountain. Would his eyes still shine like that?

  “Come on. This is something you shouldn’t miss.”

  Hand in hand, they made their way to the back of the hotel. There on the sand, with the ocean as a backdrop, was a platform with fifty or so chairs facing it. A crowd milled around, some dressed up, some in casual attire.

  “A little different from the forests in France, yes?” he murmured and led her to the back row.

  “Very.”

  Like night and day. After she’d settled herself, he sat next to her and rested their entwined hands on his thigh. What a beautiful setting. She didn’t know what was in store, but she was excited to see a grand piano on the left side of the platform.

  The crowd began to take their seats and a blonde woman in a see-through black mini dress took the stage. Her long hair was pulled into a loose ponytail and draped over her right shoulder. In her left hand she carried an electric violin and a bow in the other.

  Overhead, string after string of fat, round light bulbs gave the stage a soft glow. Center stage, she lifted the violin into place, and let her gaze roam over the crowd. The audience fell silent and if they were feeling anything like Coco, spellbound with anticipation.

  The violinist smiled; small, almost imperceptible, but Coco saw it. Another heartbeat passed. The blonde lifted the bow, her movements embodying grace. What was she? Fae? Surely. The most graceful of all immortals. Lithe, just like the woman on stage. Often with eyes cornflower blue.

  She began to play and a shiver ran down Coco’s spine.

  Coco had always thought the violin to be one of the loveliest instruments. Smooth and elegant with a slash of fire. The woman on stage played it to perfection and Coco closed her eyes, relishing each note. She was familiar with the song, which she always found extra enjoyable when she attended a live performance.

  Another violinist, dressed in nothing but a black mesh sarong joined the first. Her long, dark hair hid one breast. Coco took a deep breath, admiring the woman’s long, lean body.

  The two women locked gazes and began to play to each other. The brunette leaned backward so far Coco was amazed that she didn’t fall over. And her legs. Good gracious. Such definition.

  Coco dared a glance at the man at her side. To her surprise he was watching her. The leisurely look in his eyes made her suck in a breath. What was he thinking? She shouldn’t invade his privacy, even if it would be so easy to find out. Gaze darting away, she licked her lips.

  The blonde swayed forward. Then they switched. Even with several feet separating them, there may as well have been nothing but a slip of silk. Their movements were timed to perfection, mirror images that conjured all sorts of sexual scenarios. Were they lovers off stage? Or did they just play the part to perfection?

  The song had never sounded so… sexy before.

  A third violinist circled them. She, too, wore a revealing dress. See-through. Off the shoulder. Short with a side split that went all the way to her hip bone. Her copper hair flounced around her.

  She circled the pair three times, watching them. But the first two didn’t seem to notice. It was as if they were transfixed by each other. And the song. Winding tighter, they spiraled up in crescendo. Coco’s heartbeat accelerated right along with the song.

  Breathless, Coco squeezed the wolf’s hand to let him know she was enjoying herself. The performance went past musical. It was an erotic feast.

  The redhead lifted her violin. She stepped sideways, grapevine-style, as she circled the blonde and brunette. And then she began to play. Not the same notes as the other two. No. Different… Angrier. But just as seductive.

  When she finally stopped on the other side of the blonde, she was playing for all she was worth. Leaning into her right hip, she kept her gaze focused on the blonde.

  And then it happened. The blonde heard her. Turned her body slowly as if she was awakening from a dream.

  Of course. The brunette was an incubus. Temptation. And the redhead, Love.

  The blonde bowed to Love, so slowly, that by the time she was upright again, she’d switched songs. She played to the redhead, whose hair whipped around her on the breeze. With a quick flick of her head, she tossed the unruly locks back and faced the blonde.

  The brunette would not be outdone, and soon the blonde was swaying back and forth between them, pulled between Love and Temptation.

  Coco had never seen anything so… erotic.

  Another instrument joined the mix. A cello. The blonde pixie was shorter than the others, curvier. She was dripping in pearls. Her small breasts peeked through the strands that hung all the way to her navel. She cradled the eclectic cello between her legs, which were barely visible through the long vintage-looking skirt.

  Coco’s first love with music was because of a live performance. She enjoyed losing herself in the harmony. Watching the musicians’ expressions. Feeling the expectation and excitement ripple through the audience.

  But these four women… they inspired pure, unadulterated lust. She leaned to her right, her arm brushing the wolf’s. “You know what’s crazy,” she whispered in his ear.

  He turned toward her. “What?” he whispered back. Those gray eyes were alight with interest, and a sexy dark eyebrow notched up in question.

  “I’ve had sex with you three times,” she murmured, staring at his lips. “And I don’t even know your name.”

  A flute joined in but Coco didn’t take her eyes off the wolf. His silver gaze bore into hers and a slow, sexy smile stretched his lips. As he showed off his pearly whites, she felt her insides tighten.

  “Grayson West.”

  He held his right hand between them. She shook it. “Coco Jeffres.”

  “If I said it was nice to meet you,” he whispered in her ear, “it’d be the understatement of the century.”

  He nipped the lobe and her sex clenched.

  Straightening, he stretched his arm across the back of her seat, and she snuggled closer to his side. It didn’t matter that the island had a near constant warm breeze, Coco was always chilly. But snuggled against this man’s side, soaking in his warmth, she thought she might actually thaw.

  A woman, naked save for the sarong hanging off her hips, took her place at the harp. With her legs spread so wide, Coco and the rest of the audience had an unobstructed view of her pussy.

  “Mon Dieu,” she murmured.

  “They call this the Erotic Symphony,” Grayson told her.

  “They couldn’t have ca
lled it anything else.” From the corner of her eye, she saw him smile.

  By the time everyone was assembled, Coco was reasonably certain that every musician had been a Playboy model in their past life. It was rare to see something so unabashed and yet so restrained. Even for immortals. Despite their state of undress, they played with precision. Perfect execution that delighted her ears.

  Grayson’s heat, his delicious scent, swirled around her creating a buffet for her senses.

  A tall man dressed in nothing but white linen pants strode onto the stage. He moved with so much grace she was sure he was part feline. He flashed the crowd a knowing smile and then sat down on the piano bench.

  Coco held her breath.

  Coco had been in a love affair with the pianoforte for the better part of a century. A master pianist could coax the most amazing sounds from the instrument. Watching someone stroke the black and white keys, then thunder away on them in a rapid staccato…

  Coco closed her eyes and released the breath as the man began to play. Playing the piano reminded her of sex. The slow, methodical movements down the keyboard. Long, strong fingers caressing the keys, drawing the sounds out of the depths of the instrument. And those fast, furious movements that always made her heart pound and her thighs clench.

  “I take it you like the piano,” Grayson whispered in her ear.

  Sighing, she met his gaze. “I love it.”

  The flutist, dressed in a skimpy black bra, teeny tiny panties and a garter belt, sat atop the midnight-black piano, mile-long legs crossed.

  Coco studied each musician. All examples of physical perfection. Each an exquisite artist.

  Grayson leaned in and kissed her bare shoulder. She closed her eyes, enjoying the shiver that raced over her skin. This was exactly what she’d needed. He was exactly who she’d needed. Someone so obviously confident with himself that he’d pick out a woman’s clothes and take her to an erotic, if not classical, performance. Someone who didn’t shy away from sex and always put his partner first.

  “I get the feeling that there’s too much thinking going on in that head of yours,” he whispered, “and not enough enjoying.”