"You cook?” Sarina asked, following him into the kitchen.
"Well now I do. I had a butler of sorts before. His name’s Alfonse. You’ll meet him tomorrow. I had to kick him out though so it could be just us. Have a seat. This will be done in no time."
Thirty minutes later and Sarina was sinking her teeth into one of the juiciest pieces of chicken she'd ever had.
"How did you learn to do this? I mean, not to sound rude or anything. It's just that most males in my experience can't actually use anything more than the grill or microwave to cook. Yet I just watched you toss a salad, use the stove, and cut up vegetables. Even Alison would be impressed."
His laughter was like warm velvet around her. "My mother, Renee. She died when I was 22, but she made certain all her kids had certain skills."
"Like cooking?"
"Like cooking," he agreed. “Why do you say Alison would be impressed?”
“She’s a chef. She owns a successful little café just outside of downtown. That woman can cook.” They ate in silence as they finished off their plates. “What other kinds of skills did she teach you?"
He finished chewing, and she swore she saw a tinge of pink redden his cheeks. Oh, this has to be good.
"Well," she prompted when he didn't answer.
He cleared his throat and began clearing the dishes off the table. "Cello. I play the cello."
It took two tries to close her gaping mouth. She tried to picture her big Alpha sitting with a cello between his legs, his big hands holding the bow, and she giggled. She couldn't help it; once it started, it was hard to stop. He turned to glare at her but there was mirth dancing in his eyes.
"Come on. Let's go before I give you a lesson in obeying your master." She grabbed his hand and followed his long stride up the stairs.
"Would you play for me?" She didn't think, but just blurted out the question. He stopped so suddenly she bumped into him. He looked up the stairs, found some indiscriminant dot on the wall, and studied it. She touched his arm, curious.
"Vane? Are you, are you blushing?" He turned to look at her, his hard cheeks flushed, then in one smooth, quick move he snaked an arm around her neck and brought her lips to his. By the time he lifted from her, she was breathless and more than a little damp in her panties.
"Fine, but if I'm going to play for you then you have to do something for me." His eyes glinted with dark mischief.
"What?" she asked wearily, her lips still swollen from his kisses.
"You're going to get naked nice and slow while I play. And you’re going to dance for me. I want to see all that beautiful skin moving to my music."
"Oh." Now it was her turn to blush.
Vane led her down the hallway, passed his bedroom to a room filled with a wide, wooden desk, and bookshelves lined with hardbacks. A cello sat in the corner next to a music stand. It looked expensive with tawny wood, an elegant curve at the top where intricate vines were carved into the wood. The long strings dropped to the large belly of the cello where black lines arced around the strings. He obviously cared for the instrument. It was polished and looked like it could be new.
He pulled up a chair and took a seat, pulling the large instrument between his widespread thighs. Sarina bit her lip, suddenly nervous. He held the instrument with familiar hands. His strong fingers poised precisely at the top of the instrument. His other grabbed the long, bow-like instrument and held it horizontal at the belly of the cello. When he was done, he looked at her, an eyebrow cocked.
The music started and Sarina wasn't prepared for it. The melody was smooth and rich like velvet, the notes heavy and quick. They wrapped around her, filling the room with its warm tenor. His eyes closed, as he seemed to be feeling his music. His fingers poised and moved fluidly over the strings, providing different, beautiful sounds one after the other. When he opened his eyes, Sarina felt him look into her soul. There was no doubt in that moment that her beast was meant for his. That together they would make beautiful music.
His eyes trailed down her body, growing darker and hotter with each inch until finally landing on the juncture of her sex. Wet heat flooded her, readied her.
Sarina's mouth was dry as she slowly pulled her shirt up. The tempo of the song changed, grew faster, a rapid succession of beats that were smoothed into a lovely, deep stream by the bowstring. She tossed the shirt away, baring her naked breasts to him. His eyes fell to them, and grew hotter as her nipples puckered into little points. He licked his lips and she swore she could feel the pass of his tongue on them.
The sweeping tone of the notes soon had her hips rocking side to side to the throbbing beat. Of their own accord, her hands glided down her stomach, fingers toying with the metal button of her jeans. He tracked the movement like a predator. She drew down her zipper, the sound diluted over the beat of the cello. Slowly, like a practiced dancer, she shimmied her jeans down her smooth legs and stepped out of them with a thrust and sway of her body. Vane growled, the sound faint but husky.
Sarina panted, arousal making her moves languorous, her heart beat faster. Her pussy felt swollen and needy, and her breasts ached to be held. Her slip of cotton panties were the only thing separating her completely from his searing gaze.
Vane spread his legs further against the tight material of his jeans. His mate was driving him crazy. He never should have asked her to get naked while he played; he hadn't even thought it out, just asked. God she was beautiful, all smooth skin, perfect curves and planes in all the right places. Her nipples were so hard he wanted to leap across the room and latch onto the hard bud. He could smell her wet arousal from across the room, thick and vanilla. How easy it would be to push her down to the ground, spread her wide, and take her until she was trembling and shuddering below him.
Fuck yeah did he want that.
Sarina felt his darkened gaze watching every inch of her, and delighted in the power she held over him. He was so big, so strong. There was something exhilarating about controlling such a strong man. She twirled to the music and stopped with her derriere facing him.
She performed her own special dance for him then, leaning and arching, pushing and dipping all the while her hands grabbed the soft cotton panties and lowered them inch by inch. She thought she heard a growl, but it was hard to tell over the racing of her heart and the cello. Her panties slid to her thighs where she let go and let them float around her ankles.
The music stopped suddenly, the vibrating tones echoing off the walls as the last note rang. Before she had time to turn, his hands were on her. He cupping her breasts and ran a hand down her stomach to cup her wet pussy. He rubbed soft circles over her swollen lips, then pulled back to travel a hand over her thrusting ass to squeeze the rounded flesh.
Want and need were dark spiraling thoughts that clouded her mind. She panted at his roaming hands, the sound loud and ragged.
"God I need you. I can't wait." She heard the rustle of his shirt as he took it off, and the hiss--of a zipper being pulled down. Then she felt his hard, hot cock prodding her creamy entrance. He nudged in just a little. Her wet pussy closed around him. "Fuck, you're so wet. I can't wait anymore, baby. I'm going to take you." He thrust inside filling her deep on a long, agonizing groan. Her own moan followed.
The position was awkward. She was bent forward with nothing to hold on to, but she didn't care. He was inside her, filling her with his thick cock, pounding her towards the relief she craved. His hands were everywhere, holding her hips as he tunneled in and out, squeezing her breasts, and pulling her nipples as his balls slapped against her.
"Ohh!" Her sex was tightening, her skin shrinking as molten heat built to a roar inside her.