Chapter 17: Why Wait

SPOV

After a few dances, Eric and I told Hunter and Emma good night, but we continued to dance, neither one of us ready to stop.  Thankfully, when my feet got a little numb, Eric pretty much took over, and my feet barely seemed to be touching the ground after that.  So either he was hovering, or I was just too darned happy to feel my feet after a while.

It really didn’t matter which it was.

In fact, we danced for hours—until my stomach was growling and my feet finally would not be ignored.

However, both my “ailments” were soon made better by my mate and the two very important things he did for me.  First, Eric had zipped into the kitchen to make me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, which was still my all-time favorite comfort food.  And second, he was currently rubbing my feet as I ate said sandwich.  I sunk into the couch as I moaned because of both the food and his talented fingers.

“You are testing my control, wife,” Eric said, his eyes glazing over a little and his lust beginning to trickle into the bond.

I giggled.  “You’re the one who made me the PB&J, and you’re the one with the magic fingers.  My moans are, therefore, your fault, Mr. Vampire.”

He tickled behind my knee and then sighed contented.  “Hunter seemed happy earlier.”

I nodded as I swallowed a drink of the tea he’d brought me.  “He was happy to see you so happy,” I said quietly.

“I am happy, Sookie,” Eric said, his eyes filled with sincerity and love.

“It’s my job to keep you that way,” I said, just as sincerely.

“My job to keep you that way too,” he returned.

“Good to know you know your job, Viking,” I teased.

He smiled but then sighed as he looked down at the floor.  I followed his gaze to my discarded shoes.

“What?” I asked.

“I wanted to fuck you in those,” he said with a pout that could rival a seven-year-old’s.

“Eric Northman!  You watch your language!” I said in as harsh a tone as I could muster before I broke up into a giggle fit.

“Well—I did.”  He was still pouting.  His bottom lip was even out a little.

I grinned.  “I promise that I won’t throw them away.  Maybe you’ll get your chance.”

“Tonight?” he asked with hope in his eyes.

“Don’t push your luck,” I teased.  “And get back to rubbing,” I ordered.

He muttered something about unreasonable wives, but continued to rub anyway, even as his joy ricocheted around the bond.  Surprisingly, he kept his rubbing to a PG-level.  I have to admit that I was even more surprised that he’d kept our dancing to PG—or maybe some PG-13 after we signed off with Hunter.

As if reading my mind, he remarked, “I needed tonight.  I liked it.  I liked being close to you—dancing with you.”

“I’m glad,” I smiled.  “I liked it too.”

A faraway look shot into his eyes, and I knew that he was thinking about his past.

“I danced in my human days too,” he said.

“Did you dance with Aude?” I asked.

He shook his head.  “No,” he said a little sadly.  “Our wedding was a hurried thing.  I was anxious to strengthen my village’s position, and Aude was older and restless to be wed.  Our ceremony was not as it might have been.”  He paused and sighed deeply; it was one of his melancholy sighs, the kind I hated.  “I did not dance again for more than four hundred years after my human parents and sister were killed.  It was Duncan that influenced me to do it again, though I can safely say that a kilt is a dangerous thing to dance in, especially if it is worn properly.”

“Properly?” I asked.

He grinned like the cat that ate the canary.  “Yes—without undergarments.”

I giggled and felt heat rising to my cheeks.

“Shall I see if I can find that kilt, Lover?” he asked, moving his caresses further up my leg.

Sadly, the mood was killed when I burped.

Luckily, my vampire chuckled.  “Humans,” he said with mock frustration.

I grinned.  “I like Duncan—by the way.”

“I’m glad,” Eric said.  “He likes you too—though if he ever tries to seduce you, I will kill him.”

“He loves Batanya,” I returned, “and if he ever tried to seduce anyone else, you’d have to get in line behind her to kill him.”

We both looked at each other seriously for a moment before we burst out laughing.

“I like Batanya too—a lot,” I said after a few minutes.

He chuckled.  “She is one of the few beings I have met who has scared me.”

I giggled.  “She is a little scary.  But,” I paused, “she loves Hunter.”

“That she does, min kära,” he agreed.

 Purple border

EPOV

My mate always made noises while she ate, and those noises never failed to arouse me.  How she could moan into a simple peanut butter and jelly sandwich was beyond me, but she did.  I will admit that the peach preserves, made from fruit that had grown on the trees I had planted, did smell good—though I always preferred the scent of the fresh fruit.

I honestly could not believe that I had refrained from ravaging her thus far tonight, especially considering how fucking incredible she looked.  And those shoes!  To my great regret, they had to be sacrificed to the greater good of Sookie’s comfort.  However, I planned to make sure they got home with us so that I could see her in them again—soon.

At first, I had been prevented from making love to my mate by her own powers.  And then she had told me of Hunter’s plan.  After that, there was our serious, though brief discussion of the reason why Hunter had felt I needed a special date.  Of course, we then spoke to Hunter and Emma before dancing for a while and saying goodnight to them.

I had been pleased to hear that Sam and Luna were allowing Emma to have a sleepover with Hunter.  He would not miss Sookie and me as much since she was there, and being with her always made him happy.

After Sookie had checked for a third time in order to make sure that the Internet connection and the camera were turned off after we said goodnight to the children, I will admit that I thought briefly about ending our “prom” and going back to my plan of taking Sookie in her red shoes.  After all, as soon as I had held Sookie in my arms―her body molding perfectly into mine as we danced―I’d had to find creative ways to hide my growing erection from both the camera and the kids.  Luckily, I was very creative.

But even when there were no impediments, I had refrained from making love to Sookie up to this point.  In truth, dancing with my wife for so long had been one of the most amazing experiences of my life.  Our new bond seemed to open up more and more as we held each other.  The simplicity of our movements—the perfect way that we flowed together as we danced—was matched by the connection I felt with her through the bond.  Her joy and excitement became mine.  My contentment and bliss became hers.  With each dance, the commingling of our bodies, our minds, our spirits, and whatever else made us up was more intense—more perfect.

I was a lucky bastard.

When the playlist had run out, I still felt the need to dance with her, and she shared my craving, so we started it again.  And finished it again.  It was only her complaining stomach and tired feet that compelled us not to start the playlist for a third time.

As I continued to rub Sookie’s feet lightly—at just the pressure I knew she enjoyed—I couldn’t help but to feel light as well.  Our conversation earlier had gone a long way toward compelling me to face the fears that had been niggling at my subconscious since Sookie had gotten home.  She’d been right.  Dreading that the past would repeat itself was not productive.  My human father had taught me that the past should always inform our lives, but it was the present that should be lived and the future that should be prepared for.  His wisdom still held true.

But even more healing than our talk had been the way that Sookie seemed to reach into my body—into the bond—and soothe me.  She had been my balm after Godric died—when a single touch of her hand had placed a strong bandage over my searing grief.  She had also used her healing light to relieve both the mental and physical wounds left behind by Russell.  But with our new bond, it seemed as if she could do even more to give me comfort and strength.

My thoughts were interrupted as Sookie placed her empty plate on the coffee table and took her feet from my lap.  She stood up and reached her hand out for mine.

“Another dance?” she asked with a raised brow.

I felt my lips curl up into a smile as she stood.  “Shall I turn on the music, min kära?” I asked as I kicked off my shoes and took off my socks so that we would both be barefoot.

She shook her head.  “We don’t need any.  We have our own.”

I growled a little, immediately aroused by the intensity of her gaze, and then I joined her in the middle of the living room floor and took her gently into my arms.

She followed me as I began to move and then curved into my body.  The fact that she was no longer wearing 4-inch heals made our height difference even more noticeable, but—inexplicably—that disparity made the dance feel even more right.  She looked up at me with her brilliant brown eyes, which managed to both absorb and reflect the waning light of the candles.

As our eyes locked together, and suddenly any patience I had felt in waiting to make love to my mate disappeared.  Even as she lifted herself up on her tiptoes, I bent down to meet her lips with mine.  Our kiss was slow and hungry at the same time.  And her slender arms tightened around my neck as my own hands traveled down the sides of her curvy hips and then up her back before loosening her hair from its binding and settling into its softness.

As I broke my connection with her lips so that I could trail kisses from her chin to her neck and to that bare shoulder that had been tempting me all night, she smoothly swept my jacket from my shoulders and then pulled my shirt from my pants.  Working from the bottom button, her deft fingers opened each one, even as my own fingers found and then lowered the zipper on her dress.  My shirt soon found itself in the same pile as my jacket.

Backing away from her just a little, I caressed her dress from her shoulder and enjoyed the show as she shimmied out of it.  What was left behind was a wonderful vision of red lace, which complemented my mate’s curves and tan to utter fucking perfection.

I heard myself growl as my eyes roved over her body.

“I thought you might like these,” she said breathily as she narrowed the gap between us and began to kiss my chest.  When her fingers lowered to open my pants and her blunt teeth closed over my nipple in just the way I liked, I growled again.  She was a fucking master at making me into putty.

Deciding that her nipples definitely needed my attention as well, I brought my hands up to tease her breasts through the thin, lacy fabric of her bra.  Immediately, her buds rose into my touch, and I lost no time in unhooking her bra so that I could enjoy her soft, tender flesh without the encumbrance of the garment.  The lingerie was sexy as fuck, but my wife’s naked body was even more beautiful without any covering.

Sookie rubbed my erection through my pants and nibbled at my neck.  Putty.  I was fucking putty.

She next turned her attention to my zipper, which was having one hell of a time staying in one piece because of my straining cock pushing against it.  I kept myself busy as she worked, however, by taking her left nipple into my mouth and nibbling on her as she’d nibbled me.  I was rewarded with my name moaned from her lips.

I smiled against her flesh until her little hand found its way into my pants and tightly gripped my cock.

“Sookie,” I moaned in return.

When she took her hand off of my engorged and very needy erection, I felt like crying, but my sadness at the momentary loss of contact was immediately replaced by elation as she took both her hands to getting my pants over my hips.

She had, of course, felt my “pouting” in the bond.

“You’re such a baby,” she said playfully as she spanked my newly bare ass.

“Minx,” I returned with fake petulance before we both laughed a little.  I bent down to finish taking off my pants so that she could keep her hands right where she wanted them—square in the middle of my butt cheeks.  The only problem was that the scent of her arousal was even stronger as I bent down, and before I knew it, I was on my knees before her.

This time, she pouted as my ass moved from the range of her greedy hands.

You are such a baby,” I grinned up at her.

She gave me a fake glare and then tapped her beautiful foot.  “Well,” she sassed, “since you’re down there, you’d better get to work, Buck-o.”

Yes.  I was complete and utter putty.

My eyes were directly level with Sookie’s lacy boy shorts now, and never a vampire to shirk his work, I ran my tongue over the textured fabric.  I smirked at the glazed over look her eyes immediately took on.

“This garment is completely soaked, lover,” I whispered into her heat as I licked again.

“You’d be doin’ me a favor if you took it off of me then,” she whispered a little unsteadily.

I licked again, enjoying the sweet teasing that I was causing us both.  “Do you wish to keep these naughty little panties, lover?  Or may I rip them off of your beautiful body so that I can see all of what is mine?”  I ran my fingers just under the edge of the lace, barely bringing them into contact with her outer lips.

“Oh, God,” she moaned.  “They’re already ruined because of you, Northman,” she whimpered.  “You might as well finish the job.”

I gripped the sides of her panties with both my hands and ripped them off of her.  I followed the tearing fabric with my tongue, licking up her beautiful womanhood—all the way from her opening to her clit.  When I got there, I took a moment to suck it into my mouth.

“Oh, God,” she repeated.  I smiled into my work.  I didn’t mind being compared to a God when I was servicing my wife; it meant that I was doing a good job.

As I continued to work her with my mouth, she grabbed my hair and tried to pull me into her heat even more.  I could have told her that that was impossible; however, my tongue was too busy probing her to speak.  She writhed and gasped above me, and I could tell that her legs would give out any minute.  Luckily, I didn’t need a minute to bring her to completion as I replaced my tongue with two of my fingers.  I curled them just so, even as I sucked relentlessly on her nerve center.  Within moments, she was shaking around me as her walls pulsed.

“Mmmm,” I murmured against her flesh as I was treated to hot nectar from her body.

“Eric,” she gasped, her head lolling back a bit.

In a flash that took what was left of her breath away, I had risen from my knees, had taken her in my arms and was carrying her to our bedroom.  I wanted to take my time with her that night—to savor every taste of her and to bring her many more orgasms before I buried myself into her supple flesh and brought her to many more.

And that was exactly what I did until she fell asleep in my arms right as the day claimed me.


 

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