Dangerous Cravings: Disdain Page 8

  “Don’t Dechrista me. If it wasn’t for you, I’d have spat in his face and told him where he could stick his classes long ago. And to think Alana has a thing for him. He’s not good enough to lick her boots.”

  Though their words should have meant nothing to him, he had experienced an odd twinge upon hearing them. Their hatred hadn’t disturbed him. He was accustomed to such a response from people. Dechrista’s observations regarding Alana were just too accurate. She was too good for him, yet he seemed to make her happy.

  Just when he was about to turn and leave, Alana caught his gaze. She stared in his direction and he knew he couldn’t walk away without directly insulting her. Not only that, she was like an antidote to depression. Just looking at her had inspired warm feelings and overshadowed his students’ spiteful comments.

  Dancing with her felt wonderful. He’d wanted to steal her away for the rest of the night, but he would have to wait. Until their date, he had time to plan a dinner she wouldn’t soon forget.

  * * *

  At five minutes past three, Alana tapped on Disdain’s door.

  An unfamiliar feeling of joy encompassed him and he couldn’t resist smiling slightly. He opened the door, drinking in her appearance as he would have loved to drink her blood.

  Her reddish hair was arranged atop her head. A sheer top of olive green silk hugged her breasts and flowed into a flower petal skirt. The slits revealed a good portion of her smooth, rounded thighs. Gold high-heeled sandals adorned her feet, the multitude of straps winding halfway up her shapely calves.

  Her scent filled him, its sensual sweetness enhanced by a light spray of peony perfume. Disdain moistened his lips, his heart thumping. Though he tried to remind himself not to get too attached to the woman, he found he couldn’t concentrate on anything except her.

  “Come in.” He stepped aside slightly so she was forced to brush against him as she passed. “You must be hungry.”

  She turned to him, her gaze fixed on his with all the lust he felt. “Starving.”

  “Room service just brought dinner up.” Kicking the door shut, he tugged her into his arms and nuzzled her neck. “And if I was a gentleman, I’d let you eat before it gets cold.”

  She giggled and clung to him. “But since you’re not a gentleman, you’re going to ravage me first?”

  “I don’t ravage women. Mutual pleasure is much more stimulating.”

  Running his tongue along the side of her neck, he slid down the straps of her dress until the slippery material draped her waist. With little difficulty, he unfastened her bra and tossed it aside. He pressed her against the wall and bent, capturing one of her nipples between his lips. The sensitive flesh stiffened beneath his lapping tongue and tugging lips.

  Alana’s little gasp of pleasure aroused him even more. His cock felt like it might burst through his trousers. Ignoring the delightful pressure, he moved to her other nipple, sucking and laving it.

  “Oh. Oh, Disdain,” she murmured breathlessly, sagging against the wall.

  His grip on her waist tightened, almost completely supporting her. With a final sweep of his tongue across her nipple, he straightened and lifted her in his arms.

  She clung to his neck, gazing at him with such desire that he resisted the urge to fling her down and rut her like a wild beast. Their lips met, moving slowly against one another before their tongues mated.

  Reluctantly, he broke the kiss before lowering her onto the bed where he tugged off her dress and slip, leaving her in nothing but her panties and sandals.

  Swiftly, he discarded his clothes, flattered by the way her gaze swept appreciatively over his body. When he knelt beside her on the bed, she took one of his wrists and ran her fingers over the scars on his forearm, tracing the shape of one of the flowers.

  “Why did you have this done?” she asked.

  He shrugged. The last thing he wanted to tell her was the scarring camouflaged needle tracks.

  “I’m just curious why some vampires want to endure the pain of silver for aesthetic purposes.”

  “I imagine each of us has his own reasons.”

  She grinned. “That’s a nice way of telling me to mind my own business. Wow. You actually can be tactful when you want to.”

  “Don’t spread it around and ruin my God-awful reputation,” he teased.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it, as long as you keep bribing me with kisses.”

  “I’ll do better than that.” He moved down the bed, took one of her feet and rested it against his chest, the heel pressing lightly against his flesh. He ran his fingertips up and down her calf, then traced the shape of her knee. After unfastening the straps, he dropped her sandal on the floor. Raising her foot to his lips, he gazed at her, loving the sight of her fangs glistening against her full lips. If only he could feel her bite, enjoy the sensation of her tongue lapping his blood.

  But it could never be.

  He covered her foot with kisses. His lips moved up her shin and his tongue flicked her knee. Alana leaned back onto the pillows, breathing deeply. The scent of her arousal filled him. A glance at her panties revealed a hint of dampness through the bit of silk just covering her slit. He turned his attention back to her leg, kissing and licking her inner thigh.

  She wove her fingers through his hair and caressed his shoulders while murmuring endearments he never thought to hear again. Burying his face between her legs, he covered her clit with his lips, licking and sucking until the panties clung to her tender flesh. With the utmost gentleness, he ran his teeth over her clit, not nearly enough to break the skin, but more than enough to send her into an impassioned frenzy. She writhed and panted, clutching handfuls of his hair. Grasping her hips firmly, he held her steady while he began sucking and licking again.

  “Oh, please, Disdain! You’re driving me crazy. I can’t stand it.”

  Chuckling deep in his throat, he tugged off her panties and guided her legs over his shoulders, settling himself between her legs. His tongue darted into her pussy. It was slick, warm, and quivering with impending orgasm. When he was satisfied with his thorough exploration, he moved to her clit. If he hadn’t been holding her hips steady, she might have bucked them both off the bed.

  She came almost immediately, her legs shaking around him and her stimulated flesh throbbing beneath his tongue.

  Before the last pulsation rolled through her, he covered her body with his and entered her with a long, swift thrust.

  Her hot, wet flesh throbbed around his stiff cock. On the verge of explosion, Disdain closed his eyes. Burying his face against her neck, he began thrusting. Alana clung to him with all her vampiric strength.

  “Hold me as tightly as you can,” he panted. She gripped him harder, locking her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. It felt incredible, especially when her pussy began squeezing his cock.

  “Faster. Oh, yes. Yes!” she panted.

  Their scents mingled, made strong by lust. He could hear blood pounding through her body and opened his mouth against her neck, his fangs aching to bite her.

  Somewhere in the reddish haze of passion he became aware of her lips against his neck. She was kissing it and tracing an artery with her tongue.

  No!

  He couldn’t risk the possibility of her biting him.

  Shifting position slightly so she no longer had access to his neck, he braced his hands on the mattress. He stared at her face, so tense and beautiful in her passion. Her eyes were closed and her moist, parted lips tempted him to kiss her.

  “Ah!” she cried, squeezing him even tighter and bursting in orgasm.

  Her flesh clamped around his steely erection, robbing him of his last shred of control.

  “Alana! Oh, Alana!” he gasped, pouring into her.

  After a moment, he rolled onto his back, holding her close.

  “I love being with you,” she murmured, kissing his chest.

  You’re a bastard, Disdain. Break up with her. She deserves better.

  Before he cou
ld stop himself, he said, “I haven’t been this close to someone in a long time.”

  She lifted her head, smiling slightly, and brushed his mouth with a kiss.

  * * *

  The next two weeks were the most wonderful of Alana’s life. She and Disdain spent almost every free moment together. Though he skillfully evaded discussions about his past, he was adept at withdrawing information from her. Sometimes over dinner, other times while sharing an ice cream cone, or when they cuddled in front of the fireplace he would ask about her life before and after the Change. During such intimate moments, she found him shockingly easy to talk to, mostly because he was such a good listener.

  He would gaze at her with his lovely brown eyes as if what she had to say was the most interesting thing in the world. He didn’t seem to mind that she and Stella had been lovers, and offered her his sympathy and support for her loss.

  Though both had been her lovers, she never compared the two -- they were too different in many ways -- she was beginning to adore Disdain as much as she had her creator.

  Her only regret was that he didn’t trust her like she trusted him. He refused to disclose the details about what happened the night he’d been hurt or tell her why his sleep was often restless. Many days he awakened her, tossing fitfully and moaning in the grip of a nightmare. He’d wake trembling with a desperate look in his eyes, but no amount of begging or coaxing could persuade him to talk about his dreams. His most common claim was that he couldn’t remember the details, but she didn’t need telepathy to sense he was lying.

  Their growing closeness didn’t affect his teaching methods, however. As wonderful as he could be in private, he was just as horrible in class. The end of their training neared and the lessons became even more intense.

  One evening, Alana walked into the basement and was as surprised as her classmates to find a bed of hot coals set up in the center of the room.

  Marie and Dechrista wore concerned expressions, and Harold was already sweating through his tank top. Only Mel and Ash appeared calm and collected, though she knew they were expert bluffers.

  Glancing at the coals, Alana swallowed hard and for the first time wondered if she should try using her relationship with Disdain to gain some favoritism.

  Don’t even think about it, his psychic voice told her.

  He strode, barefoot, into the room.

  Sometimes I really hate you, Disdain.

  Good. Then I’m doing my job right. One day you’ll thank me.

  Don’t count on it.

  “Attention,” Disdain said, and everyone fell silent. “We’re nearing the end of our training and shockingly, you’ve all been successful thus far. Now it’s time to put some of our meditation to practical use. I have a title for this particular session. It’s called Mind Over Matter.”

  Alana’s stomach flip-flopped. She didn’t like the sound of this.

  A wicked grin touched his lips. “Remove your shoes and socks.”

  “Can’t I just do some push-ups instead?” Harold choked out.

  “Only if they’re performed over the hot coals.”

  “I pass.”

  “I thought you would.”

  Once their feet were bare, Disdain asked them to gather around the coals. He stood in front of it, his face expressionless, and after a moment walked across the bed without even a hint of pain.

  “You must have calluses thicker than a spare tire to do that,” Harold muttered.

  “Like all vampires, my skin regenerates, therefore I cannot produce calluses, only scar tissue created by silver.”

  Disdain turned and lifted first one foot, then the other, revealing his scorched soles that were rapidly healing.

  “I can’t do this,” Marie stated, heading for the door.

  “Yes, you can,” Disdain told her. “Get back here.”

  “No. I quit.”

  “Girl, get your ass back here,” Dechrista snapped. “You’ve gone through hell for the past six weeks and there’s no way you’re giving up now.”

  Marie paused and glanced over her shoulder.

  “I know you can do this,” Disdain told her. “However, if you want to quit before you even try, it’s your choice.”

  “Come on.” Alana walked across the room, took Marie’s arm, and tugged her toward the bed of coals. “Let her go first.”

  “Glad to know you’re qualified to take over for me.” Disdain tossed Alana a sarcastic look. “You go first and Ms. Free will follow.”

  Cursing under her breath, Alana approached the red-hot bed. Her pulse raced when she thought about the pain to come.

  “Clear your mind, then pick an image to focus on. Just like when you’re creating an illusion for the rest of us to see.”

  Alana tried to obey his command. After several moments, she had chosen an image that filled her completely -- wading in a cool lake.

  “Walk,” Disdain’s voice called to her as if from a great distance.

  She moved forward, her thoughts still focused on the water.

  Only when she stepped off the coals did she jerk back to reality and the pain in her feet struck her.

  “Ow!” she screamed, falling onto her bottom and grasping her ankles. A moment later, Marie joined her on the floor, moaning like somebody had just staked her through the heart.

  “Good. You were able to hold your concentration very well. Eventually, you’ll get even better.” Disdain stooped to examine their feet. “They’re healing fine.”

  “If they can do it, I can do it,” Harold said, approaching the bed.

  “Remember to take your time, Mr. Peterson.”

  Nodding, Harold took several deep breaths, then stepped onto the coals.

  “Oh! Ouch! Woohoo! Fuck!” Harold bellowed, making it halfway across the bed before leaping off the side.

  In spite of the pain still fading from her feet, Alana couldn’t help giggling. Harold might not have his creator’s strength of character, but he made a marvelous comic relief in class.

  They spent the remainder of the time meditating and making a few more attempts at walking across the bed of coals. Eventually, even Harold succeeded.

  After the session, Alana sat with the others soaking their feet in bowls of cool water.

  “I wonder what the hell he’ll have us do next?” Ash muttered.

  “I’m afraid to ask,” Harold said.

  Mel poked Alana with her elbow. “Please tell me he’s nicer in private than he is in public.”

  “I was starting to think so,” Alana muttered, glancing at the partially healed sole of her left foot.

  Once the others left the basement, Disdain approached. “Will I see you after work tonight?”

  “Of course. Though don’t expect me to be gentle in bed after this class.”

  A hint of amusement glistened in his eyes. “Ah. Payback. I’m looking forward to it.”

  Grasping the front of his shirt, she tugged him so they were nose to nose. “Don’t be too sure.”

  She kissed him, sliding her tongue between his lips and stroking until he sighed with pleasure, then she released him abruptly and slipped from his groping arms.

  On her way out of the basement, she called over her shoulder, “See you later.”

  * * *

  Disdain watched Alana walk away, his entire body tingling as it usually did whenever she kissed him. In spite of the elation he felt in her presence, part of him was filled with dread. He was seeing far too much of her and enjoying her company more than he should.

  The closer he got to Alana, the tighter the past held on. Like a hangman’s noose, he could not escape it.

  He was dreaming of the woman and child almost every night now, and the need for silver was almost uncontrollable. Usually the silver was the only escape from the memories, but he couldn’t risk taking more, not after what happened last time. Strangely enough, Alana’s presence seemed to soothe him as much as the silver.

  The first time she’d tried to comfort him after a nightmare, he’d
turned her away, embarrassed and guilty about his weakness. She’d looked so hurt by his rejection that he’d taken her in his arms. In that embrace, he had found comfort he’d never imagined and certainly didn’t deserve.

  Now when he awoke from such horrors, he actually longed for her and she never failed to supply him with the affection he craved. He was using her for his benefit. If he were a decent man, he’d keep her at a distance.

  Closing his eyes, he leaned his head against the wall. What he wouldn’t give for a silver rush. Just one more to tide him over until the classes ended and he could leave Burgundy Peak behind -- and Alana with it.

  The thought of not seeing her on a regular basis actually hurt. He could scarcely imagine not having her in his bed, sharing his meals, and simply talking with her.

  “Get a grip,” he muttered.

  But there’s only one way to get a grip, isn’t there?

  All the way to his room he argued with himself.

  If he took just a little silver -- half a dose, maybe -- he might feel better, more in control.

  A little wouldn’t be enough. Last time he needed to double the dose to get a high worth having and it had almost killed him. At this stage, even a little might kill him, and he needed to fulfill his obligations to Zigor.

  Besides, if the silver did happen to destroy him while he was at Burgundy Peak, Alana would most likely be the one to find him. He couldn’t do that to her, not after all she’d been through with her creator and the hunters. Regardless of his intentions, he cared about her.

  When he reached his room, he headed for the shower, then on impulse turned and opened the dresser’s bottom drawer. He stared at his black case for a moment before opening it and fingering the glittering little vials of silver.

  He tingled from head to toe, yet at the same time his stomach flipped over.

  Drawing a deep breath, he rolled up his sleeve.

  Just a bit. A taste. A --

  Alana’s scent grew stronger and a key turned in the door.

  “Disdain?”

  Cursing under his breath, he closed the case and slammed the drawer shut just as Alana stepped inside.

  “I thought you were working.”