“No, not really. It’s just ugly.” Maybe she should go back before more trouble occurred. Go back, drink and try to figure out what the hell was going on.
“Why don’t we go upstairs? I know you wanted to walk around, but we can be comfortable, and you won’t have to worry about any other incidents.” A reasonable alternative, and she didn’t want to leave him. Or did she?
“Yes.” Stan nodded slowly.
“Do you know what happened to me?” She tried to read his expressions, but his absolute neutrality revealed nothing.
“I do.”
Hope swelled within. “Will you tell me?”
“No.” No explanation, no terseness, just a simple, kind no.
“But you have to. Heidi won’t tell me. Richard doesn’t know.”
“I’m sorry.” The contrition sounded real but hardly helped her situation.
“Don’t be sorry—tell me!”
Richard’s arm wrapped around her middle and pulled her back to his chest. The strength in the embrace warmed and enveloped her in security. “Sweetheart, he may not be able to tell you. As Minion was not able to give you the answers you crave. I think we are on our own in this, and it is up to us to solve the puzzle.”
A flicker of a nod from Stan confirmed the vampire’s words, and Kiki sighed. “Fine. I hate this.”
“You are not alone. I swear that to you—you will never be alone again. We will figure this out. Together.”
The promise helped, but it didn’t take away the feeling that she should know all of these answers. She should understand why this happened. Sadness crashed through her—it was her debut night, and instead of celebrating and dancing with her girls, she stood out in the middle of the casino amidst a sea of strangers— alone.
Richard pressed the gentlest of kisses to the side of her neck. The intimate little caress sent another spiral of light to battle the darkness filling her.
No, she wasn’t alone.
“Okay, upstairs.” Despite agreeing with the idea, disappointment unfurled inside of her. She wanted to play and to celebrate. But even the walk to the elevators dragged, sedate and controlled. Stan rode up with them, but like the two guards, he remained outside when she and Richard entered the suite.
She walked three steps inside and turned. “Look, I don’t know where to start—” But Richard’s mouth slanted over hers in a hungry kiss that curled her toes. She forgot about thinking and wrapped her arms around his neck. His hands roamed over her body, and the banked excitement from the performance burst free.
Okay, this was a good place to start.
Chapter Seven
Rubbing against him, she kissed him harder and moaned as his hands pushed the dress down. The cotton and silk body sheath hugged her curves, but provided no real barrier to his touch. Never breaking the kiss, she fumbled her way to freeing the buttons on his shirt, ripping the fabric apart and sending them flying. Bare-chested, they kissed, exploring a passion that threatened to consume her.
He swept her up, and her legs wrapped around his hips. He carried her through the apartments, tongues tangling together. Every step rubbed his cock against the sensitive folds of her sex. His fingers explored every contour of her hips and ass, gliding up and down her spine. She didn’t know who she had been, but tonight she was the woman who wanted him.
Badly.
He set her down on the bed gently, as though she were the most precious of items. She arched her hips up, eager to feel him thrusting inside her, but he pressed her back against the bed and trailed kisses down her throat to her breasts. His tongue outlined delicate circles against her flesh, tracing each nipple, sucking off the pasted diamonds until she thought she might go mad from the caress.
He worked his way across her belly, warm breath teasing her skin. His hands pressed her thighs wider. Pushing up onto her elbows, she glanced down to meet his gaze as he blew warm air against her clit. A whimper clawed its way up her throat.
She wanted him.
He flicked his tongue over her clit, and she let her head fall back, closed her eyes and moaned. Decadent pulses of heat skated up from the lavish contact. Every time he rolled the little nub, her body shook from the force of it. The sweet, sensuousness was familiar, as were the lazy circles he drew around her clit. She expected his fingers, and when he slipped two inside her to thrust gently, the world shattered in pleasure.
He sucked her clit between his lips and plunged her relentlessly toward orgasm. She dug her fingers into the bed and let go, riding his hands and mouth until the world completely rent apart and collapsed. Richard petted her through the orgasm, running his hands up and down her over-sensitized flesh, eliciting more tingles of rapture. He knew her body better than she did.
The little stab of resentfulness popped the balloon of sin she basked in. A growl vibrated in her throat, and she wrenched herself free of his caresses and rolled him over. Straddling his hips, she wrapped her hand around his cock and stroked him from base to tip, watching him.
A lazy, wanton smile curved his lips upward. He trailed two fingers against her cheek. “What do you want, darling?”
“I want you. I want to know you the way you know me.” She dragged her nails down his chest, leaving three red welts on the taut muscle. She rolled her thumb against the crown of his cock, spreading the dampness over the tip. Her teeth ground together—
She wanted to bite him.
But she had no fangs.
He sat up, catching her mouth in a hard kiss and working their lips together until her jaw relaxed. Another moan worked free, and she guided his cock to her entrance, rubbing him against her sex until they were both soaked and panting. He pushed her hands aside and positioned himself, thrusting into her in one swift stroke that left her gasping for air. He clamped his hands on her hips and seated himself deep inside—and then stopped moving.
Her gaze jerked to his, and she snarled. Her nipples ached, wanting his attention, and her sex clamped down on him, squeezing, and she wanted to move—to thrust and ride until they fell over the edge. But he resisted her attempts to thrust, holding the door to their mutual pleasure locked and barred.
Tangling his fingers into her hair, he guided her mouth to his throat. “Take what you want, darling…”
“I can’t.” Despair twisted inside of her. She tested her tongue against her teeth, but they remained flat, squared off and even the scent of him—musk, masculine and aroused—didn’t draw them out.
“You can.” He soothed, his free hand trailed caresses up and down her spine and his body withdrew and then thrust up inside of her hard.
She moaned, opening her lips to draw a sucking kiss against his neck.
“Take what you want.”
The salty taste of his skin teased her, and she grazed the flesh with her teeth. He jerked against her and flipped them over so he seated deep between thighs. She wrapped her legs around his hips, and he angled his throat to stay with her mouth.
“Harder.” The order reverberated through her as he drove himself in to the hilt. She bit down, terrified of
