The Taste Of A Warrior

Part 14

Posted: October 2003
Author: Dhvana

*****

"Don't you two ever talk?"

I pause in the middle of tongue-fucking Raoul's hole to glare at our intruder, the sudden stop eliciting a round of vibrant curses from the Italian.

"That depends. Does ‘please' ‘more' ‘harder' ‘faster' ‘ooo baby' ‘right there' count?"

Angelina rolls her eyes as she stretches out on the bed next to us, leaning on her elbow in order to get a good look. Noticing my amused stare, she grins. "Please, don't mind me. I'm just here for the floor show."

"Well, you missed it. The floor show was about an hour ago. We've since migrated to the bed."

"That works, too," she says and, if possible, makes herself even more comfortable.

So she's seeking a little entertainment, is she? I think, glancing over her smooth, creamy limbs, her lush body adorned by a peach colored silk nightgown. Since she and George aren't currently on speaking terms, perhaps we should oblige her.

"My goddess, I must say, you look almost good enough to eat. Doesn't she, Raoul?"

"‘Almost' isn't giving her enough credit, my love."

"You may be right," I say, exchanging with him a meaningful look. "I don't see how we can resist."

"Neither do I," he grins, eagerly following the direction I'm leading us in. Sliding his arms around her waist, Raoul pulls her towards the center of the bed, Angelina laughing with delight. He begins nuzzling her neck, stroking her breasts through the sleek cloth, her nipples instantly hardening beneath his touch.

"I hadn't come here planning to be a participant," she says, but there is an added huskiness to her voice that belies her words.

"If that were true," I say, sliding my hands up her legs, gathering the silk cloth along the way, "then you wouldn't have worn this lovely little thing. You know you look particularly stunning in it."

"I know how you love me in soft colors."

"They make you look so pure and sweet and innocent," I say, revealing her knees, her thighs, the dark curls between her legs.

"And I'm not?"

"All but the pure and sweet and innocent part," Raoul teases, helping me lift the nightgown from her body.

"I can't be sweet?" she asks, the sultry lining of her voice sending an extra jolt through my body, and I chuckle, reaching for her lips.

"You can't even say that without making a man's temperature jump up twenty degrees," I say, tempting her with a full kiss, but never giving it to her.

"Good thing you don't have a temperature," she smirks, trying to grasp my lips, but I always stay just far enough away that she cannot succeed. She narrows her eyes at me, heaving an exasperated sigh. "Pest. I don't want your mouth anyway. Raoul?"

"Happy to oblige," he grins and kisses her.

While they're busy, I reach over and grab a bottle of oil from the dresser drawer. We have to make sure we're all three properly lubricated, seeing as how we have no natural lubricant of our own. We recently replenished our stock on a shopping spree and Raoul picked out over a dozen different new scents. But none with labels, apparently. I think he mixed them himself, and then decided to surprise me.

Smiling, I open the bottle. I love surprises.

I pour some of the golden liquid onto my palm and move my hand between her legs. Parting her nether lips, I caress her stiffening nub. She gasps, giving Raoul the opportunity to slip inside her lips, and pushes against me. Her body begins shuddering as I continue the slow, steady movement. I circle her clit, then massage the outside of her entrance, but never give her enough contact to be satisfied. Angelina moans into Raoul's mouth, pulling away from his tongue for a moment to send me a dirty look.

"Are you trying to be difficult?"

"Just a bit," I grin, lowering my head down to her stomach and licking a trail from her hip to her navel and slip two of my fingers inside.

While down there, I catch a sudden whiff of cinnamon and cloves from the oil that causes my head to spin and my heart to contract. I lower my nose to the shining curls and take several deep breaths. Closing my eyes, I forget that my fingers are embedded in one of the most beautiful creatures the planet has ever conceived and for a moment, I exist only in the aroma of cinnamon and cloves.

"Orlando?" Raoul asks, and I absently hand him the bottle, hoping that's what he wants. I don't dare move my head or I'll risk losing the scent.

He coats his fingers in the oil and moves his hand between himself and Angelina, sliding his fingers into her cheeks. She purrs wantonly at his touch, pushing against him. With his ministrations, the scent of the oil grows even stronger and I feel the familiar beating of memory against my mind.

Is it him? I wonder. Is it the man I've forgotten? Or do I just have a fondness for cinnamon and cloves I can't quite remember.

"Orlando," Angelina says softly, brushing the hair from my forehead and placing her hands on my cheeks. "Where are you, love?"

I shake my head from my reverie and smile at her. I have to focus, and looking into her eyes makes that extremely easy. "Exactly where I want to be."

I move back up to give her a thorough kiss this time as Raoul and I position her between us. I reach for the oil again and hold her hand palm up. Winking, I pour some into her hand, then guide it towards my erection.

"Would you mind?"

"Oh, honey, you know I'd love to," she grins and begins spreading the oil over my length. I pour a little more into my hand, then wrap my fingers around Raoul's cock. Between the attention the three of us are giving each others' bodies, we're soon moaning with anticipation.

"How much longer are you planning on torturing me?" Angelina gasps, and we grin at her.

"Just say the word, angel," Raoul answers, licking her neck.

"What word is that?" she asks, her eyes rolling in the back of her head.

"You know," I say, giving Raoul a mischievous look, "I don't think we ever decided on a word."

"You know," he winks, "I think you're right. What word would you like to use?"

"Banana?"

He shakes his head. "Too much silly innuendo. Candle?"

"Phallic."

"Is that a suggestion, or a description?" he laughs. "Tarzan?"

"Have men in loincloths on the brain?"

"Maybe. You offering?"

"Only if you do the yell."

"If it gets you in a loincloth, I could give it a try," he chuckles.

"How about something less obvious, like domino."

"As in what will happen once we get started? We'll all collapse like a bunch of dominos?"

"If you two don't fucking get started," Angelina growls, "I'm going to be shoving those dominos up your mutual asses. I may be immortal, but I'm not going to last forever here. Now get to work!"

"Ooo. . . I like it when you get bossy," I grin, giving her a kiss.

"If I have to go another minute without either of you in me, I'm going to be more than just bossy."

"Think we should ease her distress?" Raoul asks, and I shrug.

"I suppose she's waited long enough, and she's been so patient while doing it. Hold on, angel," I say and thrust into her.

"My god," she gasps, and I grin.

"My goddess."

She lightly slaps my shoulder as she wraps a leg around my waist. Reaching an arm behind her, she brings Raoul's lips to meet hers. "Come, Raoul. Orli's had you for long enough. You're mine now."

"Yes, my lady," he says, kissing her back, and I pause while he eases inside of her. He gives a few experimental thrusts, his expression absolutely heavenly. "My god, bella Angelina, you feel almost as good as Orlando."

She narrows her eyes. "I don't know whether to be offended or flattered."

"I have to say ‘almost'," he grins. "If I don't keep him happy, he won't let me fuck him later."

"And thanks to that, he's not going to let you," I growl.

"But you'll still fuck me?"

I roll my eyes at him. "Well, of course. That's a given."

"Then I think I'll survive."

Angelina gives a frustrated snarl, causing me to laugh.

"Poor goddess. And you said we never talk."

"I'd give anything to gag you both right now."

"Mmm. . . let's save that for later," Raoul says, kissing her behind her ear and starting us moving once more.

Angelina writhes between us, setting the pace as the two of us impale her on either side. I reach down to grasp a satiny thigh as Raoul cups her succulent breasts in his elegant hands. She arches against him, turning her head and flicking her tongue at his lips.

"Taste me," she says in her softly commanding voice, and he moans. His mouth poised at her neck, he bites down, entering the pliant flesh.

Whimpers of pleasure escape her lips as he drinks from her, his thrusts growing more erratic. Now that blood is being taken, I know his orgasm will be growing near. I lean my head forward towards Raoul's bared neck and she stops me, placing her hand on my mouth.

"Wait. I want you to drink from me, also."

Smiling my acquiescence, I kiss her lips and continue to gently move inside of her while Raoul ravages her from behind. Finally, he finds his release and cries out into her neck before easing his fangs from her body. He then reaches for me and our mouths meet, his still filled with the taste of her. Licking her blood from his tongue heightens my desire and I look into her blue eyes.

"Now," she says, seeing the naked hunger in my face.

I bite into her neck at the same time as she bites into mine, and as he blood spills into my mouth, I realize there's something different about this exchange. She seems to be searching through my blood, my life, concentrating on finding an object, a face, an event.

This is a complete violation of trust for our kind. Our entire existence can be found in our blood, and if someone takes it with a purpose, it is possible for them use our own blood against us. I don't know why she would betray my trust like this, but I am not going to stand for it. My anger starts to rise and as I am about to pull away, I catch sight of a familiar face.

It is the man from my dreams, only somehow, this is her memory, not mine.

Growling, I push myself away from Angelina and right off the bed.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I demand, backing away from her.

"Well, you've got him so tightly locked away, I couldn't think of anything else to do," she says, scowling as she sits up in the bed.

Raoul quickly climbs off the bed and kneels down next to me, his arms around my shoulders as he shoots daggers at her with his eyes. I lean against him, grateful for the support, but don't dare remove my gaze from Angelina.

"Who is he?"

"His name is Colin," she says, rising to her feet and sliding back into her nightgown. "You met him in Ireland and drained him dry, but that little blue-eyed brat you insist on protecting saved him."

"Why are you telling me this? I kill hundreds every year. Other than him being lucky enough to survive, why is he any different?"

"Orlando," she says, crouching down in front of us, knowing better than to try and touch me, "does he mean nothing to you?"

I grind my teeth together, my eyes narrowing into tiny slits. "No."

"Well, then," she shrugs, standing up, "I guess I can go find them and kill them all, including that little brat for lying to me."

"You can't do that!" I say, jumping up and standing in front of her, Raoul standing steadfast by my side. "Elijah is under my protection!" Wait a minute--Elijah? When did I bother to learn his name? "And who else are you killing?"

"There's the brat's lover. . . Paul, I think he is?" There is no sign of recognition from me, and she shakes her head. "Doesn't matter. And then there's the Irishman, whom you should have finished off properly the first time."

"How could I have finished him off?" I snarl, growing highly irritated with each passing second. "I don't even remember drinking from him!"

"Either way, they lied to me, and now they have to be punished."

She turns to leave and I grab her arm, swinging her around to face me. "You cannot harm them," I say, putting the full strength of my power in my voice. "They are under my protection. All three of them."

"So now you're going to start protecting those who are trying to kill us? Even George won't agree to that."

"I'm not placing their entire organization under my protection, just those three."

"All right. I'll give you the brat and his lover, but the Irishman is mine."

"Why? Why is he so important to you?"

"Because he is connected to you. I don't know why, or how, but there is a bond between you that needs to be broken." Sighing, she presses a hand to my cheek, her face filled with concern. "This is for your own protection, Orli. You cannot be bonded to a human. It isn't good for either of you."

"Let me see him first," I say in a small voice. "Let me look on him with my own eyes and then I'll know whether he's a threat or not, or whether this so-called bond even exists."

Even I do not miss the flash of triumph as it skitters across her face.

"Just tell me when you want to leave, and I will take you to him."

"Fine. We'll leave tonight. I'm going to get cleaned up, and then we will go."

"I'll be waiting."

As I head for the bathroom, I catch the sound of Raoul growling behind me.

"George will have your head for this! If I could defeat you, I'd take it myself."

"Good thing you know better than to try. I'm too fond of those arms to see you lose them. Raoul, I'm just doing what's best for Orlando. Even George will have to understand that," she says, her voice bitter.

All further conversation is lost as my thoughts push the two from my head. I close the door and turn on the shower, giving the water a moment to let it warm up. Stepping inside, I allow the near-scalding liquid to wash over me, filling me with a comfortable warmth, knowing I need some sort of comfort as I try to think of how we're going to explain this to George. Something tells me he is not going to be pleased, which is all the more reason to just go and get this over with. I'll figure out why this man is haunting my dreams, and once I do, I'll either keep him under my protection, or kill him myself.

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