Reckless Abandon Ch. 03

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Is it instinct or something wicked that makes her want him?
3.9k words
4.64
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Part 3 of the 7 part series

Updated 10/25/2022
Created 07/11/2006
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She first woke to the feel of the warm sun on her skin, then to the chirping of the birds outside the window as they chattered amiably to the other birds in the tree partially shadowing the room. She moved for a moment and stopped, feeling full. A wicked smile curved her lips as she slide down a little, a couple more inches of him filling her and making her hot for more already. It must have been around the time they decided it was time to sleep, close to dawn, that he slipped himself inside her, assuring her that a one-night stand was not complete without a morning quickie.

He had taken her in so many ways and in so many rooms last night. The bed had only been the start in a series of furious fucking, then slow sensual lovemaking, then wet and wild monkey sex. Afterwards, they couldn't keep their hands off each other on the floor, the shower, the kitchen counter and back to the bed. It was like being on a treasure hunt for the most orgasms. Not that she had let him be a complete he-man - oh no. She had woken him up at some point in-between their naps, taking him hard and bruising on top much to his utter delight.

She stretched and curled up close against his neck, still feeling slightly guilty about biting him that first time. He had returned the favor the last bout, looking completely unashamed that he had bitten her, mirroring the wound she had given him. Yes, she would do whatever to get him and his bites more often, especially since she had gotten used to the size of him after the third or fourth time.

And now that it was a new day, maybe she could make use of his morning woody that was deep in her before taking a shower and making breakfast. She rolled over, a goofy smile on her lips to greet him and suddenly shrieked as she fell away from the bed.

His skin was smoking as if he were on fire!

"Ohmigod, ohmigod, what the-" She chanted, panicking and dragging a hand through her hair over and over, tugging at the ends. She darted to the window and violently yanked the curtains closed, smothering the room in complete darkness, quickly looking back at him. The smoke had greatly reduced the moment that the sun had stopped touching him.

Alice fingered the drape fabric with a dubious eye.

Heavy velvet.

Much too hot for summer.

That is, if you could go out in the day during summer...

She cast an eye back at the one who had been the greatest lover to date (on her list anyway) and sagged her shoulders.

It only figured she would sleep with the only vampire at the club.

* * *

Conan Douglas woke up a second time, this time without the horrific pain that had had consumed his entire being and sat up in that eerie way vampires did upon awakening. Honestly, he didn't know how or why he did it. He just did. He groaned and threw back the covers from the bed, adjusting his body to the side in a deep stretch, cringing for a moment at the various half-healed blisters moving with him, paper-thin skin stretching beyond its limits. He was going to have to hunt tonight if he wanted to heal fully by tomorrow, thanks to forgetting to close the drapes.

"Hey."

He shouted and stood up, ready to attack with lengthened fangs and clenched fists when he saw that it was her.

Alice.

She was still here.

Even if she was in the farther corner in a chair, curled up with her legs against her chest, looking at him with stark accusation. It didn't matter that he had lost all the trust he had gained... well, it sort of did, but she was still here and he could gain it back. Somehow.

He had to if he wanted back in that damn bed with her in it.

He sat back down at the edge of the bed, sagging his shoulders forward and hissing softly when his skin protested again, but thankfully didn't bleed.

"You saw, didn't you?"

"Yeah."

Silence.

"I also closed the curtains together," she paused, her voice trembling just the tiniest. To him, that was a sign he was willing to take as good. Then again, at this point, he was grasping at any good signs that would allow him back in her bed. He couldn't forget it, couldn't forget her. It wasn't every often that he found someone so passionate, so willing, so demanding and so unafraid to ask - no, demand - for what she wanted.

"Thanks."

More awkward silence.

So what now?

Thanks for the lay, hope to see you again sometime while you're still young? Somehow, he had a feeling she wouldn't appreciate that mortality jib that was always popular at his bars. He didn't think anyone liked being reminded that they might die one day, especially by someone like him.

"You're a vampire," she accused quietly, her voice shaking.

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

He gave a dry laugh and leaned back, hoping to show off his chest to remind her that he was still the same as last night. She did seem fascinated with his stomach for some reason.

"Honestly, would I have told you, knowing this is the reaction you would have?"

She watched him with those cool gray eyes and shook her head slowly, her messy hair moving fluidly with her head. She hadn't even bothered to take care of herself, she was that afraid that she couldn't even sneak five minutes to brush her hair and wash her face because the big bad vampire was in the other room and might attack. He could feel his heart sinking with despair.

"I suppose not. It doesn't change that we won't see each other again anyway."

He blew a raspberry and rolled his eyes.

"What? What does that mean?" she demanded hotly, a sudden flush coming to her cheeks. There we go - she noticed his chest and his growing erection.

"Not likely," he sat up and walked to her, wincing when she stood up and took several steps to the side, her hand desperately seeking against the wall. Honestly, his race needed to throw more money at the P.R if this is what was going to happen every time he slept with a woman. All those movies about soulless demons ripping out the throats of helpless virgins was not helping him one bit. Well, he was a sort of demon, but damnit, he had self-control!

He moved against her, enjoying the feel of his robe on her, the soft cloth brushing against his erection.

"W-what do you mean?"

Douglas inhaled her scent and sighed against her ear.

"Because. I impregnated you and I keep what's mine."

* * *

"You did what?!" she shrieked, clenching a fist and getting ready to sock him a good one, despite how unwise that seemed after seeing him with bared fangs. Yuck. "How the hell can you- I thought you guys were living dead and sterile! What the hell happened to a condom?!"

He sighed and rubbed his aching ears before slanting her a look of amused exasperation.

"Sterile? Living dead? What vampire romance novels have you been reading lately? I'm quite alive, in case it wasn't obvious between the bed and back to the bed with all those times in-between," he reminded with an audacious leer. She flushed brightly. "So no, my seed is just as lively as the next guy, provided he's healthy and all that. And anyway," he paused for a moment, his eyes for a moment becoming unseeing until they cleared almost an instant later and he smiled down at her.

"You wanted a baby."

Alice flushed even brighter and turned her head away with a furious scowl. He sighed again and guided her chin up with the lightest touch, almost hurt when she tried to jerk away.

"Why? Why did you choose me?"

"You were the only one I've met that wanted children for the past year. I suppose I wanted to fulfill your desire."

"And what about the other women who just wanted to fuck you? Did you fulfill their desires as well?"

"Of course not. They were crawling with STDs."

She paused, frowning with a thoughtful look. "Can vampires get those?"

He grinned. "No, but it makes for a good excuse not to sleep with someone that's drunk and going to be someone you'll regret in the morning."

She socked him in the shoulder that time and he mockingly cried out in pain.

"Why?"

It was his turn to look away and she didn't make him face her like he did.

"I want children. I need children. I need an heir."

"An.. heir? What are you, some kind of vampire royalty?"

He snorted, but said nothing.

She glared up at him and ducked underneath his arm, moving quickly towards the door in a furious quiet that usually scared the best of them. She turned back, nearly growling with fury that he looked cool, calm, collected and damn it all - conceited! This wasn't real, this wasn't real, this wasn't real - so why was her heart aching with sorrow?

"The next time you sleep with a girl, I would suggest not putting on the parlor tricks and telling her she's pregnant. Sort of a turn off you know."

He nodded slowly. "Got it. When do you want me to call you?"

She shouldn't have felt the tears spiking her eyes. Honestly, she had had those awkward mornings after - everyone did. You didn't know what to do, you said good-bye with an awkward hug and an awkward kiss and he said awkwardly that he would call, which he never did. It was a code for "Thanks, that was nice. Hope to never see you again."

But here he was asking when to call -when!- and she honestly liked him and wanted to see him again. But between the psycho episodes, or actually being a vampire (she was still deciding whether to call the white coats on that one or run away as fast as possible) and claiming to have impregnated her, she just couldn't take it all and especially not here. Not with him, looking so damn cute.

So she made up her mind.

"Never."

And with that, she walked out of his life.

* * *

"You look like shit boss."

Douglas groggily looked up from the granite countertop of his kitchen's bar and glared at the grinning redhead leaning against the wall applying a fresh coat of lipstick of deep red.

"And you're a bitch. Next observation?"

She chuckled and twisted her lipstick down and replaced the top on it.

"Yes. You're very taken with her already."

He snorted and poured another glass of wine, swirling it around in the glass and staring at the liquid. He could drink it. He could eat if he wanted to - he had the plumbing, so why let it rust anyway? However, he just didn't feel like it. There was one thing he wanted to eat right now and she was pissed off at him.

"Why did you do that?"

She flipped a lock of hair back from her black corset and wrap silk skirt and walked towards him with a series of familiar clicks from high heeled black leather boots against the floor, dragging her fingers slowly against the granite with that familiar eye for beauty that she always had, took the glass of wine from him and with a healthy swig of it, gave a gasp of happiness afterwards.

"I swear, you always get the best booze Dougy! It's supernatural," she paused, looked at him and giggled. "Opps - you already are."

He growled. "Answers. Now Heather."

She gave a weary sigh and looked at him with a hint of resignation and mischief. "You, of all people, should know why. You both wanted the same thing."

"That hardly constitutes playing match-maker with only biological needs in mind," he replied dryly.

"Would being suitable help?"

He paused. "Suitable?"

Heather grinned and took another sip. "Well, gotta go home. Hubby will be coming back from out of town tonight and I want to surprise him," she paused on her way out and patted him on the shoulder, her aura of mischief and happiness suddenly dissipating.

"You know I came to you for a reason Conan. I've known Alice for a long time and I've known you about as long and I think you two are perfect for each other. That is," she paused and the mischief returned as she grinned. "if you two won't kill each other first with your stubbornness. See ya."

He watched her go and looked back at the wine glass, smiling dryly when he saw no imprint of lipstick on the glass.

* * *

Heather, upon meeting Tristan back in college, knew two things. One, the sex would always be great between the two, even when he was bald, wrinkly and had a bottle of Viagra on the nightstand next to his dentures and two, they would have to compromise because both were sexual dominant beings. While she wasn't the whip and chains, lick-my-boots-you-dog, kind of dominant person, she certainly loved to give pleasure and take control. So, while dating and after a couple nights spent under the sheets, the two agreed: Each person got a certain number of days where they could be themselves with proof in the form of a, tacky enough, a coupon.

He thought it was hilariously cute.

She smiled as she sat down at a chair to the dining table, hoisting an unlady-like leg over the edge. Tristan thought a lot of things about her and the world were hilariously cute and sometimes, she needed nights like this to reaffirm to him that while she was capable of being - ugh - cute, she could always be that sexy woman that had wowed him when she had audaciously hit on him back at that college bar.

She checked the clock and nearly felt like laughing at the plans she had ready for him tonight when the door clicked open with the flip of the lock and he came inside to the dimly lit room that was their hallway.

"Heather?"

She convinced herself she was a vixen, a seductress that was impossible to say no to or at least a sex-crazed teenager and somehow managed to purr, "In here."

She could smell him, the slight tang of aftershave, the spicy scent of the cinnamon apples he ate during lunch (that she made!) everyday and of course, the scent of him as a man. The mere scent of his natural self turned her on, the richness that always reminded her of licking the salty sweat off of his neck and jaw that overwhelmed her senses until she couldn't think of anything but him and his hardness inside her. She also savored the sound of his familiar pattern of walking across the floor, knowing what he had in store when he strolled into the dining room and his briefcase fell to the floor instantly at the sight of her.

"Heather!"

She felt proud of herself, sprawled out on her chair, legs open with nothing but her black boots, see-through black lace bra and garters holding up her black lace stockings. The rest was just bare skin, including her most private self, bared open and ready for a night of fun.

This was how she wanted to welcome him back home.

"Hey honey," she purred seductively, dipping her fingers in a nearby silver bowl of berries and licking her fingers of the juices suggestively before devouring a small piece of fruit between red glossy painted lips.

Tristan stared, his jaw dropped.

"I was thinking of using one of my," she paused with a distasteful sniff. "coupons tonight to welcome you back."

"I- ah, sure." He really hadn't expected this, especially when she had called him this morning sounding sick and telling him that she might be asleep, or at least unconscious thanks to her cold medicine, when he got home.

Not exactly the most original plan to surprise, she surmised, but it certainly got the job done.

She smiled and selected a raspberry this time, and let the juices dribble down her chin and onto her ample cleavage. He stared, still shocked and sat down at a chair against the wall- slowly, cautiously. Years of marriage and he still apparently wasn't used to her - ahem - charms.

Good.

She smiled sweetly, massaging one breast that was featuring a hardened nipple poking through the lace of her see-through bra as she ate a couple more berries, swirling her tongue across her fingers every time the merest drop of juice touched her finger.

"How was your trip?" She licked another finger and watched him rub his thigh, his throat working to swallow.

"It was - ah - good." He tried to swallow again, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he watched the finger she had just licked travel a wet trail down the valley between her breasts, dip into her belly button, then circle around the damp pink desire plainly on display.

"How was Greg? Did he give his presentation alright?" Her finger disappeared inside her wetness and he nearly choked when she withdrew it and sucked on it loudly, licking her lips with a wet smacking sound as when she ate the fruit.

"H-he did fine."

"That's good." She selected a blueberry this time and licked the shell with a small swipe of her tongue before eyeing him with a glint she knew would send shivers down his spine. Blueberry was his favorite.

Casually fingering the fruit, she pretended to look thoughtful before she gently had the blueberry travel the pilgrimage her finger previously had, hearing him gasp when the fruit disappeared inside her. While it did feel weird, the look he had was priceless. She widened her legs more and waved the piece of paper with a raised arrogant brow.

"I do believe I lost my dessert. Fetch it."

She watched him sit up, the soft cotton of his shirt straining against his golden skin, watching the graceful masculinity that was her husband obediently comply with her demands. Perhaps the part she liked best about this whole coupon thing, as he got on his knees in front of her, was the heated look of vengeance in his eyes.

They promised retribution, of a reckoning that she couldn't wait for.

Of course, she forgot all about revenge when his tongue trust into her wet heat in search of the fruit.

Her head dropped back and her thighs clamped around his head, holding him close as he continued to lick and suck, his hands massaging her thighs and bottom as he literally tongue-fucked her senseless. She felt his tongue find its treasure and he sucked it into his mouth, swallowing not only the fruit and its juices, but her juices as well. She kept her legs clamped around him and dragged her hands through his hair, moaning.

"Don't stop. I won't let you go until you make me come."

She nearly came on the spot when he chuckled, his hot breath hitting her overly sensitive lips and clit. With that command, he nipped a lip oh-so-lightly and licked it before brushing a hand against her inner thigh, signaling for her to give him some space go work. She allowed it and instantly was glad she had done so when he opened her wet heat to see easier, slipping two fingers in instantly and began to suck, lick and pay homage to her clit as he thrust his fingers in and out slowly, tickling and playing with her.

If there was one thing Tristan knew in the bedroom, it was the perfect combination of oral sex and the techniques he applied never were the same, but completely random and kept her guessing, moaning and screaming. Because she hadn't seen him in awhile and only had her bedside toys for company, she came instantly with a scream that should have shaken the world, but only shook her own.

She felt only partially satisfied when she came back to her body seconds later and knew that the night was far from over, which was how she was planning it in the first place anyway. She arched her back, stretching her arms and thrusting out her breasts.

"Mmm... that felt so good," she moaned softly, massaging a heavy breast. He was watching her with a hard eye, glittering with need and that want for vengeance she got so turned on by and climbed up onto the table, presenting her aching heat for him as she spread out her cheeks, still shaking slightly from the tremors of her massive orgasm. She could feel her arousal dripping from her, creating a very hot picture. Her, on her knees on the table in nothing but a black lace bra, high heels, stokings and a garter belt with her ass spread, showing her dripping wet pussy.

"Fuck me. I want you to fuck me as hard as possible and after that," she demanded with a wicked smile. "After that, I might give you a gift."

He smiled darkly and didn't even bother to undress, only unzipped his pants and dropped his partially down his hips and setting his erection free. Taking hold of the impressive length, he teased the head of his cock against her slick entrance and pushed inside her in one thrust, grabbing hold of her hips. She whimpered, moaning and pushed against him, enjoying the ecstasy she could only feel when her husband's hard cock was buried to the hilt inside her.

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