He was talking about Summer. Not that there hadn’t been more women than her. But she was the one who mattered the most. The one I’d seen him with in my head the last time I’d touched him with love. He had to have known I’d see, so why—?
He took my arms from around his neck and drew them above my head, circling both wrists with one hand, holding me captive though I didn’t try to fight. His bringing back that memory seemed to have drained everything from me—except the lust. That appeared to be getting stronger with every thrust.
Faster and faster. Deeper and harder. My body betrayed me.
Damn body.
I fought the orgasm; the orgasm won. I came screaming, not his name. Not anymore. I screamed in fury and he laughed, scraping his teeth down my straining breasts, suckling me just short of pain, drawing the orgasm out, never coming himself so that he stayed hard.
Then, when I went limp, he reached between us and used his fingers to arouse me again. The slide of his hand, touching me, touching himself, he seemed to get larger, stretching me until my head thrashed even as I opened my legs for more.
“I wish I had time to go down on you, but I don’t think I can wait. I love the taste of this.” He rolled his thumb over me. “I love how it swells against my lips, how it feels when I flick it with my tongue.”
“No,” 1 whispered, but I shouldn’t have bothered. I had no choice, and by now I didn’t mind. An orgasm like that is addictive. My mind might murmur no, but my body kept shouting yes.
My skin hummed. It only took a few more thrusts for him to at last give in to the inevitable, and as he came, so did I.
With Sawyer I’d seen the universe, felt the power all the way back to the beginning of time. He’d poured heat and magic into me when he’d given me himself.
I felt the same heat, sensed the lightning, but what I saw was darkness, what I felt was madness, a duality that didn’t quite make sense.
Jimmy’s head was bowed, his hair shading his face and mine; the only sound in the room was the syncopated rhythm of our breathing.
“Don’t ever try that again.” Without warning, he shoved his forearm against my neck. I couldn’t breathe.
“I remember everything, Elizabeth, and it doesn’t matter. All I want is to fuck you until I’m tired of you, then drink from you until you die.”
He lifted himself off the bed, using the arm at my neck for leverage. For an instant 1 thought he planned to break my windpipe. I choked, then coughed when the weight disappeared.
He was gone before I could say anything, do anything, though what I’d planned to say or do I had no idea.
I sat up, rubbing my throat, which felt swollen and tender. I was going to be sporting a huge bruise. Luckily I didn’t have any pressing appointments.
Had I absorbed Jimmy’s dhampir powers? I didn’t feel any different. What about his sudden case of the vampires? Would I absorb that too? I had no irresistible craving for blood. No urge to steep in a coffin. No aversion to garlic. I checked my teeth. None of them were pointy, but then neither were Jimmy’s.
I laughed at my thoughts, most of which were based on Bram Stoker, and my throat screamed. I stumbled into the bathroom. A quick glance in the mirror revealed an ugly pressure mark across my windpipe, already deepen-ing from scarlet to eggplant.
I dialed the shower to “burn me, baby,” and climbed in, then stood under the stream until the water turned tepid. When I climbed out and dried off, I caught another glimpse of myself.
The bruise was gone.
Chapter 35
I appeared to have absorbed Jimmy’s dhampir ability to heal. I had to assume I had his strength, speed, and superior sight as well.
The powers I’d gained from Sawyer were restrictive. Speed in animal form, healing only after shape-shifting, and shape-shifting only if I touched a tattoo or wore a magic robe.
I fingered the pristine skin of my throat. “This works much better.”
When I went into the bedroom, my clothes were gone.
“What the—”
Clutching the towel, I hurried into the living area. Empty. So were all the closets, all the drawers. Of clothes, at any rate.
Someone had been in here while I showered. That almost gave me the creeps more than the red flare in Jimmy’s eyes had.
“If he expects me to prance around naked for all the security cameras to see, he can forget it,” I muttered, grabbing a dry towel and fashioning a very short sarong.
My gaze swept the bedroom, the bath; then I moved into the outer rooms and did the same. I didn’t see a camera anywhere, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t one.
In the living area, I went down on my knees in front of the breakfront, but the heavy piece of furniture skimmed the floor too closely for me to reach beneath it and feel around for Ruthie’s crucifix and Sawyer’s turquoise. I could see them easily, even though the area beneath held no light whatsoever.
Supersight? Check.