The hard part was falling off the side of the porch roof at the right angle to catch the windowpane in a good grip.
I didn’t think about it, not discernably.
I just fell.
It was calculated, but Bea didn’t know that. The yip of her anxious squeak reached me through the glass just as I caught the jutting edge of the pane in one hand and adjusted to pull myself up with two. I held myself on my palms, arms popping with strain as I stared into the glass at Bea’s startled face.
“Boo,” I said, mouthing it dramatically in case she couldn’t hear me over the clatter of wind.
Her frozen, anxious expression cracked down the middle and gave way to that smile that lit me up from the inside out.
“Open it,” I told her. I was stronger than most, but the buffeting wind and the awkward angle of the ledge made it difficult to maintain my position.
Bea’s pink mouth made a little ‘o’ as she scrambled to unlock and raise the window.
I swung into the room, still semi-hard until I smelled the sweet, fruity scent of Bea in the room, and then I was once again stone.
Before she could get a word out, I was stalking toward her.
She stared at me, eyes wide and dark with lust and fear. Instinctively, feeling stalked and vulnerable, she moved backwards across the room.
I smiled wolfishly at her, aware that I was dripping wet, clothed head to toe in black, and prowling toward her like a predator. I didn’t stop, couldn’t stop. Wouldn’t. Not even if Zeus barged in with his brass knuckles and shotgun.
I’d gladly take buckshot in the ass if it meant I could just touch Bea for one fucking glorious second.
Finally, Bea ran out of room, her back hitting the wall beside the door to the hall with a soft thunk. A second later, I was on her, plastered to her naked body from thighs to chest. I collared her throat with my hand to feel her pulse against my thumb, to feel the fragility of her life in my hands. Her pulse beat a tattoo into my skin, a pattern I would wear inside my chest the way some people wore a religious cross.
This, this, this was why my own heart beat.
“You’re wet,” she panted softly, looking up at me with those big, silvered blue eyes fringed in thick gold lashes.
“You are too,” I noted, no inflection just fact. “I’ve made you wet for me, Little Shadow. You love to mimic everything I do, is this no different?”
She gasped as my other hand scraped along her right side, short nails pebbling the flesh in their wake, until I reached her hip. I watched her eyes dilate as I paused, then jerked them harder, searing pain into her skin, across the seam where her leg met her groin straight to the top of her pussy, soft with downy curls.
My fingers played there as I spoke against her parted lips. “Should I check to see if I’m right?”
She trembled against me, so warm and vivid against my cold, dark body. I had her trapped and ferocious animal triumph urged me to fuck her as the spoils.
I didn’t. I wouldn’t.
I was above base impulses, smarter than my body’s urges.
Almost.
My middle finger dipped down just slightly over the sweet swollen mound of her clit into the tight slit beneath it and then pulled back. It came away wet with her juice.
I grinned, the expression a knife’s slash across my mouth as I pulled my hand away to bring the evidence between us.
“Wet for me,” I said as my cock throbbed and throbbed, and still I didn’t grind it against her.
“I’m, um,” Bea gasped, flustered and flushed pink with embarrassment. “I’m sorry.”
“No,” I clipped, scowling. “I want you wet. I want you dripping down your thighs for me. This?” I held up the honey-dipped finger to my mouth and slowly ran my tongue up my skin, sucking over her juices with a humming groan of approval. “Fucking divine.”
She squirmed, thighs trying to rub together. I slotted my leg between them so she was forced up against my jean-clad thigh, damp cunt to the rough fabric. I ground against her until she whimpered then I took her panting mouth, devouring it the way I wanted to devour her sweet pussy.
“I’m gonna take you,” I growled against her mouth. “Last chance to stop this.”
“No,” Bea groaned against me, moving by her own volition against my leg, gyrating her little hips in a desperate bid for more leverage. “I want this. You. Please, I’ve wanted you since I knew what want was.”
Fuck, but the power of those words scored through me. The worship in them, the reverence. All those holy words I’d banished from my vocabulary came surging back with the taste of Bea’s cunt like holy water on my tongue.