Isa's fingers curled into his hair as her head fell back. Chance followed the motion, letting his lips slide to her neck. Her pulse pounded so strongly against his mouth, it seemed to be begging him to bite it. Chance licked it instead, swirling his tongue around the throbbing apex and hearing Isa moan with pleasure.
He wanted to hear her moan again, but louder, and while he was licking a different part of her. The thought of her scent surrounding him while he filled his mouth with her juices made his blood nearly scream to travel elsewhere. Chance let it, directing the flow, feeling himself thicken and harden as it flooded his cock. Isa must have felt it too, because she pressed herself there in a long slow rub that almost ripped Chance's control away entirely.
He'd grasped her hips and ground himself against her before he could form another thought. Isa let out a strangled noise, then her hand was ripping at his shirt while the other one tangled in his hair.
"Chance," she gasped. "I want you."
A blaze of exultation made his words choppy. "Not here. Come."
Chance picked Isa up and went swiftly to the guest room, not knowing or caring if Greta would object. Once there, he kicked the door closed and rent Isa's shirt from her with one hard tug. Her pants met the same fate, as did his clothes, until at last his bare skin pressed against hers. She blinked at the speed of his actions, but Chance didn't give her an opportunity to be bashful. He dropped to his knees, pulling her underwear down with him, and buried his mouth between her legs.
Her whole body shuddered. She would have fallen, but Chance gripped her thighs and held her as he took long, greedy licks into her wet hot depths. Her nails dug into his shoulders while gasping cries reached him above the pounding of her artery, so deliciously close to his mouth. She tasted salty and sweet, not unlike blood. The deeper Chance penetrated his tongue inside her, the more Isa shuddered against his mouth, until her cries became sobs of ecstasy. Chance licked her harder, faster, glorying in the rich scent of her lust and the fiery wetness slicking his mouth.
She ceased clawing at his shoulders to push on them instead.
"Now, Chance, now. Fuck me."
Something primal flared in him hearing Isa say that word for the first time. In response, he lifted her up and set her on the side of the bed, his tongue still thrashing deep within her.
A groan that ended in a roar came from her. "Damn it, for once, do as I say!" And she yanked at his head hard enough to pull out a clump of hair.
Her mouth flew open in horror as Isa stared at the dark strands around her fingers. Chance just laughed, fiercely delighted with her impatience and burning with the need to be inside her. He pushed her back along the bed until they were both stretched out, and then settled his hips between her legs.
His eyes met hers in the instant before he thrust forward. Her mouth was open, breathing in short rapid pants, and her hair was a dark tangle framing her wide cedar eyes. Chance groaned, wanting to tell Isa how beautiful she was, or that he'd never forget how she looked at this moment... but a more powerful need took over than the one to talk. He pushed inside her even as she arched up against him-and then he couldn't think anymore. There was nothing aside from the hot sweet embrace of her walls, the indescribable rapture of plunging deeper and faster within her, her sweat clinging to his skin, their scents merging into one... and the twisting spasms of her orgasm that seemed to squeeze his c**k with a thousand tiny hands.
Chance knew he should have let himself climax then, too. After all, if he were thinking, he'd remember Isa was tired and she'd had a difficult day from being shot, for God's sake. But he wasn't thinking. He only knew he didn't want to stop, so he didn't. He held her and kissed her, sucking on her br**sts or between her legs to tease her into a fevered state of excitement, before he'd plunge inside her over and over again. He finally allowed himself to come when he realized Isa was close to exhaustion. She was drenched in sweat, and her cries had a distinctively hoarse note to them.
Chance held her as tightly as he dared while his release rippled through him. It felt like his skin was splitting, the pleasure was so intense. Then a sensation of pure contentment settled into him, making him realize he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt that post-orgasm. It was wondrous, and yet also faintly terrifying. What if Isa didn't feel the same way for him? What if she woke up tomorrow and said this had all been a mistake?
Chance pushed those fears aside. Isa didn't seem the type to jump lightly into things, and she'd offered herself to him knowing full well what he was. There were no guarantees in life-or undeath-so Chance had to take things with Isa as they came. When was the last time he'd been so nervous/exhilarated over the future? Wasn't that worth the cost of a little fear?
Chance rolled them until they were lying on their sides. Isa was still gasping, her heart rate a constant staccato in his ears. He took her hand, kissing it, and her fingers stroked his cheek.
"Do you know what I'm going to do, first thing tomorrow?" she asked when she caught her breath.
He felt a grin tug his mouth. "Can I put in a request?"
She swatted at him with no strength. "I'm going to call every man I've ever had sex with... and demand an apology."
Chance laughed even as a surprising dart of jealously pierced him. It doesn't matter what happened before, he reminded himself. She's with you now. "Thank you, I think."
"Believe me," she said, settling closer to him. "Thank you."
* * *
Isa had been sound asleep, but Chance shaking her shoulder woke her. She blinked in the darkness of the room, barely seeing Chance put a finger to his lips.
"Someone's circling around the back," he whispered.
She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was almost three in the morning. Definitely not time for a social call.
Chance got up in a pale blur of flesh and was soundlessly out the window before Isa could even react. She had a second to be glad no one should be awake at this hour to wonder why a naked man was streaking around her grandmother's house, when a cut-off yelp made her vault out of bed. She didn't take time to hunt for clothes, but just wound the bed sheet around her and darted down the hall. Her grandmother's gun was in the living room where Isa placed it earlier. Sure, it didn't have silver bullets, but Robert or his goons would go down with plain old lead.
The back door opened and Chance appeared. At least Isa assumed it was Chance, not being able to see his face clearly in the dark. But really, how many other naked men coming in her grandmother's house at this hour could there be? Especially ones dragging a half-struggling form with him.