*My muses are hilarious little snots. They’ve decided to IMAGINATION: ACTIVATE!! – in the middle of an unusually strong allergy attack. And on a related note, guess who’s suddenly allergic to blue cheese… I really hope this chapter makes sense. If not, blame the blue cheese muses.*
(What’s in a name?)
Cara watched from the kitchen as Godric and the other vampires left to “interrogate” the captured Weres. She’d known he was watching her all evening, even during the final dinner preparations, but she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Like any home, people tended to gather in the kitchen, especially when food was being prepared. Cara and Sarah both enjoyed the additional company so long as they stayed out of the way. Scott had even acted like he wanted to hang out with them all, but after a few minutes had suddenly left. She had a sneaking suspicion that an ancient vampire was directly responsible for his vanishing act.
She rolled her eyes to herself. She didn’t understand his weird possessive streak, but figured it must have something to do with the whole “vampire wants to keep his feed and fuck source all to himself” agenda. It wasn’t like he bothered sleeping with her in the vampire-safe, light-tight room she was in, or really even talked with her any more. Granted, they’d been kind of busy, but still.
Fucking PMS. With her luck she’d start crying just any second simply because he hadn’t even bothered to say goodbye to her personally. But it did seem like he could have, she groused to herself. If he could find time to prop up the counter in the kitchen while she was preparing dinner, and then hang out in the den obviously eavesdropping on everything that went on while the guards were eating, then for fuck’s sake, he could have at least given her a kiss goodbye.
“Cara?” Sarah sounded like she’d been trying to get her attention.
“What’s wrong? I’ve been talking to you for five minutes and I don’t think you’ve heard a word I said.”
“Sorry. I’m in my own little world, but at least they know me there. What’s up?”
“I was just wondering what you wanted to do with these leftovers?”
“How about I make me a plate for tomorrow afternoon’s breakfast, and you take the rest with you?”
“Sounds good. Now, what’s wrong?”
“Eh, nothing, not really. Just PMS’ing and re-evaluating my entire existence, that’s all.”
Cara was glad when Sarah laughed as intended, hoping she’d just drop it. It wasn’t like she could discuss her concerns about her relationship, or lack thereof, with the Were. Well, she supposed that technically she could, but it didn’t feel right to since Godric was the supe boss in the area.
It wasn’t like she could discuss him with anyone, she realized as she was making her future breakfast plate. It was incredibly demoralizing to realize that she literally had no one she could confide in about any of the things that really mattered.
She’d thought that since Godric was so easy to talk to, that he might could have become a really good, close friend, but apparently that wasn’t going to happen. He was rarely around, and when he was, he was busy with work, with trying to solve the Were problem, or there were too many other people around, or…he was busy fucking her. Sexing, but not talking. Granted what they did together was so incredibly much more than simple sex, but still. Some damn conversation would be lovely, too.
Had the man, erm, vampire never heard of holding hands before? A damn, simple hug once in a while would be nice, too, damn it.
“What,” she snapped.
“Seriously, are you ok?” Sarah knew something was wrong.
“Oh. OH. Oh my God…vampires…”
Cara laughed at the look on Sarah’s face. “Erm, yeah, that’s probably gonna be a problem. But, I’ve got tampons and pads, so I’ll be as covered as possible, so maybe it won’t be such an issue. Sorry if I’m kinda bitchy for the next few days, though.”
“It’s ok, I totally understand. Female Weres like me tend to have lots of female problems, so I really do get it. Supposedly the effects aren’t quite so bad if you lay off the caffeine, though…”
Sarah unwisely laughed at Cara’s growl.
It took surprisingly less time to clean up after supper than they anticipated, so Sarah left to go home, and Cara decided a nice, long soak in that gorgeous tub in her gorgeous bathroom was definitely in order.
As she relaxed in the delightfully warm water, she mentally reviewed her association with Godric. She wasn’t even sure she could call it an actual relationship. They had sex and he drank her blood and in her self-pitying mood, that seemed like the entire…association. They fucked, and she fed him. Sometimes. He watched her fix food, then later he’d slip into her room, and they’d fuck, and then he’d bite her, sometimes.
She knew she was being unfair to him…she truly didn’t expect him to be “perfect”, but, still. That nagging feeling she woke up with was still…nagging away.
Something was missing, but she didn’t know exactly what. She suspected it was more than just whether or not he bit her during their insanely good sexathons.
Fucking Godrics and PMS were going to drive her insane.
Godric thought the “interview” with the Weres had revealed precious little information of value, although he had been very impressed with his child’s tactics and inventiveness. Isabel could proudly claim successful vengeance upon her tormentors. His chest swelled with delight in his child.
Unfortunately the entire information-gathering process was brought to a rather abrupt halt when the duller-looking Were, named Silas according to his identification, thought to insult Cara. If that Were had been praying for a quicker death, though, his plan failed miserably. He might have figured that out when he saw his ripped-out tongue wriggling on the floor in front of his bleeding feet. He did not deserve to even think her name, much less allow it to touch his tongue. Godric particularly enjoyed cauterizing the wound he had inflicted. The Were would not be allowed the luxury of bleeding to death just yet.
Godric thought he should have been dismayed, or even surprised, at how quickly his pacifist nature reverted into angry vengeance, but he just could not bring himself to care. That the wolf even knew her name said more than the creature intended.
Thankfully the other Were, Tobias, had been unconscious during that particular session, and knew nothing of his brother’s verbal indiscretion. He was removed to another sound-proof location for further discussions to resume the following night. Godric hoped he could tease, taunt, torture, whichever, more useful information from him if the two were separated and did not know the extent of the information his brother had spilled.
His instincts were telling him that there was much more going on than he had yet discovered. That pack chose to attack his child for reasons still unknown. They must also have had contact with someone close to him to even know of Cara’s name.
All the Weres serving on the estate had signed powerful non-disclosure agreements, and DesChamps had gone a step further and authorized the glamouring of all of them to prevent them from discussing or revealing anything concerning their duties with anyone other than themselves, and then only when on the property itself. Godric was the only one who could bypass any part of the extensive glamour.
The leak had to have come from someone else…most likely someone who was not a Were. That left only another vampire. A vampire who had also been supplying the now-decimated Were pack with V either as payment for services rendered, or as incentive to do his bidding. This was much bigger than either a simple vendetta against either him or his child.
Godric paced in frustration.
When they had returned to their separate resting places from their mission, he had come home and taken a thorough shower after throwing away his Were-soiled clothing. Finally, then, he could join Cara for the few remaining hours before sunrise.
His satisfied smile reflected his pleasure at their resulting joining.
She had been wearing a simple sleeping gown, and nothing else. He had removed his pajama bottoms before crawling under the covers and curling up against her soft warmth. The sweet scent of her body in slumber permeated his senses and replaced the last of his fury with an almost hypnotic need for the peace he found only in her small frame.
A few moments later she turned to him, nuzzling her face into his chest as her hands made their slow, sleepy way around his waist. It was only as he ran his hand up her thigh, then back down to her knee to pull her leg over his hip, that she began to wake up.
He would have gladly left her to her sleep, but the encounter with the Were, hearing her name pass his lips, had caused his blood to boil. The instinctive urge to touch his mate, to know of her safety and good health by feeling her alive and moving under him, was a need he knew he could not ignore, a need he could barely delay as long as he had. He had to know she was well, safe, and his in the oldest way possible.
She had barely opened her mouth to speak when his lips crushed hers with overwhelming passion. This was not a night for words, he thought as he rolled her under his weight. He definitely needed to speak with her about so many pressing matters, but the remaining hours of this night would be spent speaking in a different language. When she needed to breathe he nipped at her lips a long moment before delving his tongue back into her mouth, mimicking the motion his body so desperately craved.
When she parted her thighs to accept his weight, he quickly settled himself into the cradle of her feminine heat and reveled in her encouraging moans at his teasing movements. She clutched at his shoulders as he nipped and kissed his way down from her neck across her throat to the deep V of her gown.
He braced his weight on one hand and used the other to rip the gown to free her nipples. He immediately latched onto one, sucking it deep into his mouth and rubbing it with his tongue until he had to still her bucking hips with his firm hands.
Godric shifted his weight to pounce onto her other nipple and began rolling it between his lips. He lowered his hand to her center and groaned to find her so wet for him. He immediately plunged two fingers inside her and pumped in and out in an increasingly hard, frantic rhythm determined to make her cum at least once before mounting her. The growing intensity of her gasps and moans when his thumb started rubbing her clit told him he would not have to wait long.
He was fascinated as he watched her pleasure building. She was gasping and moaning, clutching at his shoulders and rolling her head side to side, her dark hair loosely spread over the pillows. He thought she was never more beautiful than now with her cheeks and lips flushed, her eyes a deeper, darker brown than usual, her nipples a rosier pink from his attentions.
Finally! As she screamed his name and shuddered all over, he rose to his knees and lifted her hips and immediately drove his full, thick length ball-deep into her hot, wet center. It took everything he had to remain still long enough for her to adjust to his size…and then he started thrusting, slow at first, then faster, harder, until he reached a furious pace. The sight of her breasts bouncing with every thrust and her sharp cries of pleasure spurred him on until they both came hard.
Still sheathed in her tight core, he eased himself down to cover her limp, damp body. He was certain his eyes were burning blue when he met her slightly dazed gaze. This time when he captured her lips he kissed slower, a little gentler, twining his tongue with hers while savoring the taste of her desire and the scent of him on her. He relished the feeling of her warm arms holding him close and the way she would kiss and bite at his neck when he would pause to let her breathe.
Long moments later he started thrusting again, slower, easier, trying to show her with his body just how dear she was to him as he captured her gaze with his. She wrapped her legs around his hips and held him tight as she matched his every movement. Still, as slow and easy as he drove their mating, it was only a short time later that her hands clawed into his shoulders and her teeth clamped down on his shoulder as she came hard again. He growled out her name at the pleasure of her bite, and it was all he could do to move just in time to keep her teeth from puncturing his skin.
He hissed as the memory of that filthy Were saying her name drove him to roughly turn her over onto her hands and knees. Cara yelped then groaned in pleasure when, in one quick motion, he positioned himself and slammed into her, riding her smooth and hard and fast all the while chanting her name over and over until he could hold back no longer. He leaned over her and, still pounding hard, braced one hand under her shoulder. He swept her hair to the side and struck quick, his painless bite to her neck sending Cara screaming over the edge as her body shuddered in time with his deep, long pulls.
Suddenly he tensed and jerked, then came with a great, feral roar. Finally sated in body and soul, he gathered his Cara close as he listed sideways, falling gently to the bed with his woman safe in his arms. He could not seem to get enough of her, he thought, as his free hand kept stroking her side, thigh, arm and breast while she kept nuzzling his arm serving as her pillow.
A while later, after her heartbeat and breathing had both slowed down, Cara stretched then wiggled to free herself from his arms. He reluctantly let her go when she mentioned her human needs, and watched her walk from the bed to the bathroom. He realized she would undoubtedly be sore on the morrow unless he tended to her soon.
Impatiently he listened as she ran water and washed, then she unfolded a towel and dried herself, then he heard her brushing her teeth… Finally she returned to him, eyes still misty, body still warm from exertion, his scent still on and in her body in a way she could never wash away.
After she climbed back under the covers, he had her roll onto her back. When he folded the covers back she started to speak, no doubt going to ask him what he was doing, but for some reason Godric did not want to break the silent spell soothing the room, so he simply kissed her quiet, dropped his fangs, and ripped a long cut in his finger. He parted her thighs and inserted his bleeding finger deep inside her, spreading his healing blood in her most intimate places to heal her of any possible damage his passion might have caused.
When he was finished tending to his mate he covered them both back up, curled her up in his arms, and simply held onto her. The scent of their joining, the warmth of his Cara in his arms, the quiet in his one-sided bond with her, and the sounds of her breathing and heart beating soothed the beast angered by the Weres and plots surrounding them.
**I’d like to thank everyone for taking the time to read and review my story. I really appreciate your time, interest, and patience!
PMS, for any non-English readers, = Pre-Menstrual Syndrome, ie: that crying/cramping/”bitchy”/head-achy/OMG LIFE FUCKING SUCKS!!! time just before a female starts her period.**