Embrace the Mystery (The Blood Rose #3)(45)
Author: Caris Roane

A series of cries left her throat, then she shouted. He sustained the drive of his fingers as her body writhed and she cried out over and over. He felt her coming with strong spasms. He experienced her pleasure as well, like a second skin.

When her body eased back on the bed, and her breathing settled down, he withdrew his fingers, wiping them on the robe he’d taken off her.

“That was wonderful.”

He rose up onto his elbow to look at her, at her flushed cheeks and swollen lips. He kissed her. “We’ve just started.”

She nodded, then a soft smile spread over her lips. “I know. It’s one of the things I like best about you.”

He smiled as well and again his chest filled with an unrecognizable emotion, something that threatened to bust through his ribcage.

“What is it?” She rested a hand between his pecs. “You look like you want to say something.”

He shook his head. “No. I’m just, I don’t know, grateful to be alive, maybe. Hell, I should have died several times out there.”

She huffed a sigh. “I know. I feel the same way.”

He wondered if he should tell her that he suspected she was a blood rose. But somehow the moment didn’t seem right, mostly because he knew she wouldn’t be happy about that on any level, so he let it slide.

* * * * * * * * *

Batya let her gaze feast on Quinlan, on his dark, almost black eyes, his powerful cheekbones that looked chiseled from granite, his thick, straight, black brows that made him appear so serious and determined all the time, and the super sexy crooked line of his nose. Somehow, that imperfection made him perfect, almost too beautiful to look at.

Yet, she couldn’t look away. She traced the line of his cheek with the tip of her finger, then followed each of his features, memorizing them perhaps because soon their strange adventure would come to an end.

She drifted her fingertip down his neck, then lower to smooth a hand over his thick pecs. He had an elegant body, a vampire warrior’s body, strong and fit, lethal in its ability to slay the enemy. She knew there resided within his soul a sense of unworthiness, which she now understood. He’d grown up in a brutal home that had ended with the deaths of both parents on the same night. And he’d never truly forgiven himself for what happened, that he’d been unable to save his mother and that his violent outburst against his father had led to his death.

But it seemed a great irony that though he felt this way, undeserving of love, he was perhaps the most deserving man she knew.

She wanted him to know, but doubted words would make a difference so she coaxed him onto his back and, stretched out on top of him, and began to kiss him. She took her time, using slow, lingering kisses one after the other, all over his face and his neck, licking over his veins which caused him to writhe and moan.

She scooted a little lower so that she could track the line of his collar bone with her tongue, then descended to worship his beautiful, thick pecs one at time. She used her hands, her tongue, her lips, kissing at times, then nipping at him, to finally take a nipple in her mouth and suckle him.

His c**k was a hard ridge against her abdomen and his h*ps flexed to grind against her. He held her in place with his fleshy hands caressing her bottom. Everything about the moment felt so right and so good.

She worked her way down his abs, using her hands and tongue again, to ride the swells and dips of his stomach, then descended to lick her way down the line of hair that ran into his trimmed pubes.

She took him into her mouth, sucking lightly because she didn’t want him to come, not yet. She wanted to build him up to the moment so that he roared while pounding into her.

But she also felt that turnabout was fair play, so she opened up her mating vibration and while she held him in her mouth, she let the vibration float down his cock. Two could definitely play at that game.

She didn’t think she’d ever forget the heavy, guttural groan that left his mouth and brought his upper torso rising off the bed.

Releasing him immediately, she sat up and stared at him. “Did I hurt you?” But she smiled.

He shook his head. “I’ve just… It was… Oh, Sweet Goddess, do it again.”

“Are you telling me that no woman has ever done this before?”

He shook his head, his dark eyes wide. “Not even a little. I mean I’ve felt a few vibrations before, but honey you’ve got something no one else can do.”

Batya felt absurdly self-satisfied. “Then lie back down and let me try it once more.”

He panted and moaned as she drew him again into her mouth. She took her time and let the moment build, finally releasing the same vibration so that it flowed down his cock.

He didn’t lift off the bed, but his back arched and he groaned like a bear in pain. It was an awesome sound.

She didn’t dare keep it up, however, or he’d come too soon.

So she released him gently, and using her palm, she made a path back up his abdomen and met his gaze. She kissed his nose. “I love this curve.”

“It’s always bugged me.”

“It’s monumentally sexy.”

He laughed, then teased her left nipple with the crook of his finger. “I love being here like this with you. I knew we’d be good together, but it feels like more than that.”

“I think we bonded over the trauma of the last two days.”

He smiled again, then leaned up and kissed her, rolling her onto her back. She thought he’d attack her br**sts again, because she was stacked and she knew he liked the way she looked.

Instead, he knelt beside her and let his gaze rove her body, head to foot, every inch, maybe memorizing her the way she’d done earlier.

She didn’t say anything but waited and somehow she wasn’t surprised when, using his left hand, he began caressing her face, sliding his fingers down her neck and in careful, gentle swipes, back-and-forth, he mapped her. He’d done something similar with the map of Grochaire, remembering where he’d been, and savoring what he’d come to love.

He moved over each shoulder, his gaze following the line of his hands as he touched her, and petted her in soft swipes. He continued over her br**sts, her stomach, her waist, her h*ps and mound, then down her legs all the way to her ankles and feet. He left no part of her untouched.

When he’d done the front, he turned her over and began from the soles of her feet, and worked upward.

His touch was firm, warm and gentle, more like who he was deep in his heart than who he believed himself to be.

She spread her arms straight out so that he could reach every part of her. By the time he was done, she felt known as she’d never been known before.