Vampire Vacation by C. J. Ellisson

think the warm-up for the event is just as much fun. Thankfully, so does he. It took me nearly a decade to discover he’d enjoy the same sensations I do, and boy has that been fun to explore.
    He leans a bit down, hunching around my body so he can angle himself to watch his finger go deep into my pert bottom. I’m on my tiptoes in my heels and lean into him as the feelings of fullness start to overwhelm me. My hips move back and forth a bit on their own volition. His left hand leaves my side to journey to my front, and two fingers plunge deep inside my pussy. Not to be outdone, I reach out to his jutting cock, grabbing it in a firm grasp to pleasure him as well.
    Rafe sucks in his breath while pulling his lower-half back, successfully breaking his member from my grip.
    “Not yet,” he says.
    My response comes out as a whimper. The sensations of being entered from my front and back are so intense, I feel like there’s molten lava brewing inside me. The pressure starts to build again and I want more.
    I need your cock back inside.
    Rafe responds by pulling his hands away then sweeping an arm out to clear the workbench. Tools scatter haphazardly to the ground, clattering as they land. I’m seized roughly by my waist and slammed down hard onto the dirty, waist-high table. Something digs into my back and my head feels wedged against a steel vise. The moment he presses against my wet, hot center, I cease to care where I am.
    I draw my thighs up to rest against his chest. His left arm wraps over my legs to hold them together while the other drags me across the bench toward him. My body angles down off the surface, giving him the best position to thrust inside.
    I growl out, “Hard, I want it hard.”
    Rafe grunts, his body reacting with a steady rhythm. The pressure increases with each plunge as he slams into me with increasing strength. His movements cause the workbench to creak under the strain.
    “More!” I bark out harshly. Going to come… come with me… Now!
    Rafe’s hips piston with a last burst of energy. My back arches as I throw my head back, flailing blindly for his chest. I grab hold of both of his nipples and twist them while I let go. Wave after wave of release crashes over me, tightening my inner walls with each pulse.
    The scream building in my throat works its way out as my vision clouds and goes black. It seems like the moans I’m hearing from Rafe come from a great distance. I know he’s reached his peak too, but I’m so far gone, I can’t tell much of the details.
    God, Viv, that was good. I needed it.
    I can’t help but laugh. That’s my husband, the master of the obvious.
     

Chapter Five
    When our glow has worn off, Rafe flicks on the worktable light. My kind, gentle lover helps to peel the tools off my back. The items became slightly embedded in my flesh when he changed our position for the spectacular ending.
Ah… there’s nothing like a good rogering from your husband to make you feel special and push the cares of the day away.
    “Okay, sweet cheeks, jump on down. You look fine.” He punctuates this with a slap to my hip.
    My indignant look falls on his uninterested visage as he starts to whistle softly in his happiness. I’m a non-whistler. Those who like to whistle, who aren’t very good, like Rafe, can be difficult to suffer through.
    I decide not to let anything bring my mood down, especially after I have supped so sweetly from my mate’s neck. A girl can forgive a lot after some fornicating, two great orgasms and a blood chaser. Never taking more than a taste allows me to indulge more frequently. A lap of my tongue and the enzymes from my saliva repair any damage to leave Rafe unblemished. At my age, I don’t need much sustenance to survive. After a full feeding, I could go weeks without additional nourishment if I really had to, which isn’t an issue with Rafe on hand.
    Never one to let an opportunity to tease slip by, I jump down gracefully and stare Rafe square in the eye.