He’d make his own crimson concoction to replace this one. Maybe a cherry liqueur, like he’d described to Cass. But for here and now, this worked fine. Her nipples had gone taut, because he could feel them through her thin bra and his shirt. She really did get off on this, because he could almost smell her arousal coming off her skin.
Since it was a new tool for him, he went easy with the fangs, learning them. He tightened his grip on her hair, not wanting her to jerk suddenly and him do her more damage than intended. He slid the point down her throat as he licked off the black cherry, and a damn near moan came from her throat. She was pressed even more urgently against him, as if fighting not to rub her mound against his thigh. Fuck. He wanted to bite her, wanted to sink his fangs in…
He shifted his position and granted part of his wish, digging the fangs into the tender juncture between neck and shoulder, right where that earlier bite was. Her fingers clutched him as if she was falling off a cliff, and he wasn’t sure if they both weren’t doing that very thing. Happily. Well, if he was a vampire, he could fly, right? Or break her fall, at least.
Her hand had slipped to his nape, was teasing the dark hair there as she breathed fast and quick.
“Don’t vampires have slaves or servants? Something like that?” He lifted his head to meet her glazed eyes.
“I think so. Yes. Maybe. Definitely.” She caressed the tip of one fang again and smiled, a sheepish and charming look on her pretty face. “Wow. That was… I guess I didn’t realize quite how well that would work with you, that look you get, so intense. Maybe you were a vampire in a former life.”
“Aren’t vampires immortal?”
“Well, maybe you annoyed someone, and they staked you. Lucas is always threatening to kill you. Maybe he was your Van Helsing.”
He removed the fangs, using a helpful hand sanitizer positioned on the wall to clean them before he slipped them and the black cherry oil back into the package. There was a lubricant for the stake dildo, he noted.
Removing that piece, he turned it over in his hand, aware of her attention on it. “So for this, I guess it’s Buffy the vampire slayer coming at me with the stake.”
He knew her fondness for the Joss Whedon series, so, as he spoke, he angled the pointed part to his chest, proffering her the other end. Her color still high, Marcie closed her fingers over the cock-shaped handle and increased the pressure against his flesh. The stake was smooth wood, and sharp enough to drive into a vampire’s chest…or do edge play with a sub.
“But she can’t bring herself to do it,” he murmured.
“Want to bet?” A smile crossed her lips, her eyes sparkling. She increased the pressure on the point, lifting on her toes to bring her mouth closer. “She tries to do it, but he overpowers her, takes the stake from her.”
She tilted her head, her hair brushing his knuckles. Crazily enough, he’d already been in the process of doing as she’d described, somewhat. He’d shifted his grip to her wrist to twist it gently but firmly, enough to dislodge her hold on the stake. He gripped the base of the phallus handle, the heel of his hand still on the stake end. Her hand had dropped to his side, just above his hip.
“He turns it on her,” she continued, her lips moist as she touched them to his jaw. “Makes her worry about which end he’ll use, as he drags the sharp point down between her breasts, over her navel, to between her legs…”
He held her gaze. He had turned the stake around with a dexterous twist of his fingers, and the point was teasing her cleavage, just below the pendant. Her eyes were dark and deep, her lips parted.
Reality penetrated, though he wasn’t sure how. Maybe someone had sneezed, blown an air horn, something. He suddenly recalled they were in a lingerie store and eased back, though he eyed her as he returned the stake to the package.
“You’re getting me in a great deal of trouble, the things you’re tempting me to do to you in front of your sister and everyone in this store. I’m going to go give this to Wallenda. Try to behave. Like you ever do.”
She dimpled unrepentantly, but beneath that, he saw something far needier. Marcie was an honest flirt. When she teased or taunted, it was because she wanted him. The sooner, the better.
Why had they even left the house today?
Ben thought about that BDSM resort Matt and Savannah had gone to some time back, where the guests could act as Dom and sub full time, no matter if they were in one of the five-star restaurants, out on the beach, or in the privacy of their open-aired bungalows. He might book them a trip there, sooner rather than later. Otherwise, he might be arrested for the things she openly tempted and challenged him to do to her, regardless of their audience.
Come to think of it, it wouldn’t be a bad honeymoon. Maybe a few days there, then a trip to Italy for a week…
As Ben dropped the vampire kit on the counter, Wallenda shot him an amused look. “Thought I was going to have to take the fire hydrant to the two of you,” she said.
“We’ve considered carrying a portable one with us for just that reason,” Savannah said, coming to his side to place an assortment of lacy sachets next to the vampire toys. “I love the scent on these, Wallenda. No one else sells it.”
“Because they are prepared by a voodoo priestess who will tell no one her secret ingredients,” Wallenda responded. “And you can cast no stones, sister. There’s been a time or two you’ve been in here with that man of yours when I thought the walls would start to smoke.”
“I told you about bringing Rick Lewis here,” Ben said to Savannah. “Matt’s going to find out. Wallenda will tell.”
Savannah made a face at him. Wallenda waved a snapping hand in Ben’s direction, the black nails flicking like switchblades. “You ignore him, cher. These Kensington men, they are untamed beasts, the best kind, no? You have any new pictures of that angel baby to show me?”
As Wallenda and Savannah started talking about Angelica, Ben reached over to the desk area behind Wallenda’s counter and snagged a pen and small pad. He scribbled a note on it, and moved to the end of the counter where there was an opening for Wallenda to pass through. With his back to them as he fished out his wallet, his body screened his motion from Savannah’s side. He dropped the notepad and the hundred-dollar bill on the corner of Wallenda’s desk. He paused only long enough to know the woman had seen it, because she gave him a subtle nod and knowing twitch of her lush lips.
Good. Now he wandered away with a definite purpose. Marcie had moved into a different section of the store, and his steps toward her slowed when he realized what she was looking at. Wedding lingerie, lots of white lace, heavy silks.