Her fingers still dug into his buttocks, driving him, holding on to him. Perhaps because she was not looking at him, he could say what was rolling through him. While he knew she could hear it in his mind, he wanted her to hear him utter the words deliberately, as an oath in- stead of just a stream of consciousness. "I miss you every second I'm not inside you like this. " Letting her hold on to him, he slid his hands under her thighs, bringing her clit more in contact with his cock, which was hard as the chrome of his bike. Her eyes widened and her body convulsed, giving him a surge of furious triumph as her nails bit into him. Her fangs glittered from the soft white light cast by the outdoor lanterns as her mouth opened on another cry. She spasmed inside as well, giving him no more choice in the matter than he'd just given her. He flooded her, feeling the two heats mixing together, wetting his ball sac. The inside of her thighs pressed against his hip bones. He kept pushing into her, stay- ing right with her through each aftershock, wanting the impression of his cock filling and completing her, imprinting on her memory. So perhaps she wouldn't deny herself or him for such an intermina- bly long time again. One day, two days . . . The hours when she slept. All of it was too long. Humor rippled through her, mixed with passion as she caught the thought. She held on to his shoulders, breathing shallow breaths as he held her close, pressing his head on top of hers. "What is it you miss so much during my sleeping hours, my greedy servant? My smile? My eyes? Or this?" She contracted upon him, squeezing him with such artful skill he thrust against her in answer. "All of you, my lady. Everything you give me when you do this. Your wet pussy, your panting breath, your nails digging into me, your heart and desire in your eyes, those soft whimpers in the back of your throat. It tears the heart out of me. " I never knew there was anything that I'd want for all eternity until I met you. Her nails pierced his skin, her forehead pressing against his chest so he couldn't see her face, but her emotional reaction to his words and thoughts flooded him like a wave.
Sometimes he forgot she'd lost her husband so recently. That such admissions could hurt her because the intensity was reminiscent of what she'd wanted but never had with Rex. When he felt her strug- gling to rein it in, he knew whatever she'd planned tonight, she didn't want to be drawn into her own shadows. Changing tactics, he raised her head with a nudge of his, brushed her lips with his mouth. Nipped sharply. "You got this out of your system? Ready to go now?" She blinked back the tears he knew she didn't want him to notice and managed to toss him an arch look. "I think I might need to freshen up first. " "No. Don't. " He gripped her with a sudden fierceness. "Wherever we're going, I want to know that my seed is sticky between your thighs. When you take your panties off just before dawn, I want you to smell me on your flesh and in the silk. " As her eyes darkened with desire, he knew he'd banished the shadows. Reaching up, she stroked her thumb over his lips, her touch lingering when he made the contact a kiss. "I won't be taking my own panties off, Sir Vagabond. I can almost guarantee you that. "
The Faire was set up on acreage outside of town, a nature preserve set against the backdrop of Stone Mountain with its impressive carv- ing of the trio of Confederate generals. Nearly five acres of pavilion tents were interspersed with torch- light to distract attention from the large outdoor stage lighting that had been rented to further illuminate the area. A roar of cheers ris- ing beyond the forest of tents told Jacob some type of competition was in process. The crowd of parents and children he saw milling among the tents suggested it was not a joust, however, which would typically draw most of the Faire attendees to the makeshift arena at the rear of the fairgrounds. Other than a small scattering of cars, there were five school buses in the parking lot. "This is a school booking, " he noted. "It might not be open to the public. "
"It's not, " she agreed. "They're holding a special nighttime perfor- mance for an inner-city school. It was made possible by a private benefactor who asked if she might attend herself to see the children enjoy the Faire. And bring a guest. " He digested that as she used his shoulder to brace herself and swung her leg over the bike. He'd redone her hair for her and she'd rearranged her clothes, but as he wished she'd not done anything else. To all outward appearances she was perfect. "I suspect this benefactor is someone with more money than God. " "That's such a ridiculous saying. What use would God have for money? Hence, a pauper has more money than God. " "A pauper you are not, my lady. " Lyssa cocked her head. "These children don't have much of the good memories money can buy. Plus, it served my purpose. I was planning a birthday gift for someone very dear to me. Terry said you liked the nights the troupe entertained schoolchildren the best. " Jacob came to a halt. Eyes widening, he turned, taking a closer look at the cars and the pavilion tents in the distance. The colors. "This is my old troupe. They changed the flyer. " She nodded. "Happy thirtieth birthday, Jacob. " "This took some time to set up. When did you--" "You think I just sit around every evening, waiting for you to do my hair and wipe my ass?" He winced. "I'm never going to live that one down, am I?" "I'm still offended by it. " She sniffed. "I plan to bring it up as of- ten as possible, because that's my right as your Mistress. " He snorted. "It has nothing to do with you being my Mistress and everything to do with being female. " However, he tugged her forward until she was standing toe-to- toe with him and he had his lips pressed to the tip of her nose. "Thank you, " he said.
The faces were new, but Jacob saw Terry hadn't lost his touch. The British owner and operator had been a well-known Shakespearean actor in his homeland.
Everyone he hired understood their primary goal was to make the Faire goers believe they had stepped out of the world they knew, into a world based in history but gilded with the romance that fantasy and time could give it. Will you feel like a knight in shining armor when you help her tear the throat out of an innocent? Gideon's voice, dubbed over his con- science. His decision was made, damn it. Viciously, Jacob shoved the thoughts away, but not quickly enough. You do not have to come with me, Jacob. I have told you that be- fore. Yes, I do. He blew out a breath. He didn't want to think about this now. He truly didn't. She'd gone to a lot of trouble. Just . . . Does he feel any pain, or fear? Lyssa turned, her expression softening. Reaching out, she touched his arm. "No. For this, I use what you like to call pheromones, for lack of a better word. At least at the crucial moment. His last thoughts are that he is being most pleasurably seduced by a beautiful woman. " Jacob frowned at that. Though her eyes flickered, she continued. When I break the skin, there is usually surprise, but the chemicals bal- ance it, increase his arousal. Before he can feel the panic that comes with the instinct his life is in danger, I break his neck. I can finish feed- ing on him postmortem as long as he is alive when I break the skin, and I drink what I need within the first fifteen minutes after his death. "I may not view humans as equals, Jacob, " she said, low, "but they are too much a part of my life for me to simply cut a decent per- son down in the prime of his life and feel nothing. You are not alone in your feelings on this. It is just . . . I struggled with it many years ago. " I accepted it. Today shall belong to us. We will deal with the rest tomorrow. Agreed? Jacob managed a smile. "Agreed, my lady. " When have I ever been able to deny you anything? When she let her hand slide down his forearm to his wrist, her reassurance echoed in his mind. You are not alone in this. "A kirtle, my lady, with a lovely corset?"