Chains of Darkness (Men in Chains #2)(33)
Author: Caris Roane

My br**sts ache. Lucian, I ache everywhere. I need your touch.

He slid his hand up and rubbed each of her br**sts in turn, back and forth. She arched against his hand but began to feel very needy between her legs.

She opened herself up to the shared blood-chains, to his Ancestral power, to his experiences of four hundred years of intense vampire living. He must have felt the shift because he drew back from her vein and rose up over her. He caught her thighs, one in each hand.

Is this what you want? He pushed his h*ps between her legs but rose up so that his cock, rigid and weeping, rode up her abdomen all the way to her navel. You want all that I am inside you, Claire, taking possession of you?

She looked first at his erect cock, then met his gaze. He looked ferocious, his gray eyes glinting, blood on his lips and chin, on his fangs. But he looked beautiful as well, like the warrior she knew him to be. You’re magnificent.

He flexed his arms, then the thick muscled wall of his chest, which left her weak with desire. So she said the one thing she was sure would keep him in just this state. Fuck me, Lucian.

Opening his mouth wide, he roared, a sound no human male could make. He then drew back, placed his c**k at her opening, and—because she was so ready for him—drove all the way inside. He held her h*ps with his hands and pumped, letting her feel the length of him.

She writhed on the marble. Nothing had felt more powerful, more exquisite, more sensual. She angled her head, presenting her throat for him. Bite me.

Lucian grunted as he bit down. He struck her vein, then began to suck, the feel of his lips and the sound he made once more causing her to clench. She still couldn’t move, her arms held as they were by his second self, but Lucian’s h*ps did the work, driving and plunging.

Ecstasy began to roll toward her all over again. That was the only way she could think of the sensation, as though it existed outside her yet inside at the same time.

The chain at her neck vibrated with his profound arousal, another layer of sensation.

His mouth drank, his h*ps pistoned, and within her body she pulled on him, her muscles contracting and releasing, working to draw from his c**k what he could give her.

She closed her eyes, lost in so many sensations. She cried out repeatedly and as the orgasm struck, she arched her neck and screamed. She felt Lucian’s release at the same time that he shouted, his h*ps in a steady rhythm. Ecstasy gripped her body low and flooded her veins. Waves of pleasure flowed again, crashing through her abdomen and upward to engulf her chest, until she screamed once more.

His shouts reached a pinnacle and after several short thrusts, his h*ps finally slowed, rolling into her several more times, savoring the last of the orgasm.

She lay panting, and he breathed hard. He released her neck as well and rested his head on her shoulder.

Finally his upper self let go of her arms. She brought them back slowly to surround the primary Lucian who now lay slack on top of her, the weight of him sublime.

She felt his rejoining vibration and afterward how much more solid he seemed as he lay over her chest, still joined to her, his h*ps keeping her legs spread wide.

She petted the back of his head over and over.

She felt wonderful, extremely well used, but what poured from Lucian distressed her.

I was so into this, but did I hurt you?

Claire chuckled softly.

He leaned back, scowling at her. “Why are you laughing?”

She didn’t want to use her voice just yet, but glided her fingers through his hair as she spoke within his mind. You forget that I siphoned your power. Maybe if I’d been only human just now, but no, Lucian, you didn’t hurt me.

He shook his head. “That doesn’t seem possible. I was out of control.”

She slipped her finger between the crease of his scowl then rubbed up and down the familiar worried line. She sighed heavily.

She knew he didn’t understand himself at all.

“Put me to bed, Lucian. That’s all I want right now, because I’m exhausted.”

Concern swept over his features as he pulled out of her. He reached for a napkin and pressed it between her legs, then he held her close against him and they were flying, a very short flight to a massive, literally cavernous bedroom. He’d left much of the cave in its original shape.

“Shower first,” she whispered as he drew close to the bed.

“Right.”

“You left a lot of yourself inside me.”

She felt his chest swell and sensed a very strong male satisfaction. She chuckled again, but sleep began to work at her consciousness. She made short work of a shower, dried off, then headed straight to bed.

He showered after her and she might have recalled the bed dipping when he climbed in, she wasn’t sure, because she fell into a deep and profound sleep.

* * *

As Lucian lay beside Claire, he didn’t understand what had just happened, but he felt extraordinary. This woman did something for him that he couldn’t quite explain, except that he felt more like himself than at any other time in his entire life.

She’d begged to see all that he was, so he’d shown her the part of him that liked control. Yet not once had she seemed afraid of him, or worried that he’d hurt her, not even when he’d split into his two selves. His secondary self had held her in place, and he’d enjoyed her body thoroughly.

He also felt instinctively that she wouldn’t have done this with anyone else. At the same time, he couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone other than Claire.

He lay awake for a long time, watching her sleep. She had a sprawling style, her arms wide, her lips parted.

He’d never spent this much time with one woman, ever. He knew who he was and he’d avoided close relationships. He’d proven the truth of his nature by splitting and pinning Claire down while he took her, drinking from her. Yet it had all seemed so natural.

What’s more, she’d loved it. That’s what the chains had said to him, that she’d loved how he’d controlled her and made love to her.

He wanted to do it again.

And again.

He rolled onto his back, sliding his hands beneath his head. He’d left the ceiling of the cavern in a natural state. He liked the jagged edges of the rock, which tended to reflect his state of mind more often than not.

His chain vibrated softly against his upper chest and to the sides of his neck. The sensation eased him, in the same way the recent sex had. For one of the few times in his life, he didn’t feel so alone—and damn him for liking the way it felt.

He also realized that the remnant of his blood-madness had disappeared during the experience.