Fangs for Nothing (The Fangover #2)(57)
Author: Erin McCarthy

She gasped, startled by the action and his strength. She was petite, but not light, yet he didn’t even seem to be straining to hold her. Then he angled their hips until she could feel the head of his penis entering her.

Slowly, oh so slowly, he eased her down onto his full, hard length. Her body struggled to accommodate him, but even that was a delicious fight. Finally he was buried deep inside her and she nearly came again just from that feeling of having this gorgeous man a part of her. Filling her so completely.

He didn’t move right away, letting her grow comfortable with his girth, but then he began to lift her up and down, the unhurried friction exquisite.

“That’s it,” he soothed, “just ride me. I want to feel you tight and hot and wet all around me.”

She was helpless to do anything other than what he wanted. And she wanted it, too.

His movements became more rapid, his thrusts deeper, and soon she was crying out again. But this orgasm was the most intense of all, because Drake came at the same time, shouting out his release.

She curled around him, her head on his shoulder, her arms around his neck, her legs around his back. And she felt totally safe, totally relaxed in his strong hold. She didn’t even realize they’d moved until he eased her off himself and onto the bed.

He followed her down, but then rolled them both so she was on top, straddling him.

He looked up at her, those intense eyes of his seeming to look deep inside her, trying to understand everything about her. No man had ever looked at her that way. Like she was the most fascinating thing in the world.

She felt her heart thump in her chest and knew she could so easily get into trouble with this man. But she didn’t care. Not right now anyway. Not with him looking at her like that.

She didn’t feel any insecurities sitting above him, exposed to him, her br**sts still heavy and her ni**les taut from their lovemaking. She’d always been shy about her size, her build, but with him, she simply felt sexy. Desirable in every way.

He brushed a lock of hair from her cheek, the touch so tender, her breath caught.

“Why don’t you trust men?” he asked, his voice raspy and soft at the same time.

She knew she shouldn’t tell him. It was too soon to open herself up that way, but she found herself looking into those eyes of his, so dark brown they were almost black, and answering.

“I was recently involved with a man who told me he loved me. Told me he wanted us to build a life together. To get married. Then he made off with all the money I’d saved waitressing and bartending to start my catering company, which meant I had to take a loan I really can’t afford to get things up and running. And believe it or not, he isn’t the worst guy I’ve dated.” She smiled self-deprecatingly.

“Wow,” Drake said, stroking a hand down her shoulder and arm. “I can see why you’d be a little wary of guys.”

She nodded. “What about you? Why the fear of confined spaces? Of being restrained?”

Drake’s hand stilled on her arm.

“You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to.”

His fingertips, so much like his voice, both raspy and gentle, began to caress her skin again. “I, too, was involved in a few very bad relationships. Of course, several of them I brought on myself. But one—let’s just say Obsidian probably couldn’t hold a candle to her. Pain was very much her pleasure.”

Josie Lynn studied him, trying to imagine what he was implying. Had this strong, virile man been abused by a woman? Physically abused? The idea stunned and disturbed her.

“You must have loved her very much to tolerate something you didn’t like that way.”

That was the only reason she could think of as to why he’d allow any woman to apparently torture him.

He sighed. “Well, that was long ago, Cupcake.” He instantly made a face. “Sorry, I know you hate when I call you that.”

She smiled slightly, then leaned forward, her lips just millimeters from his. Her full br**sts pressed against his hard chest. “Want to know a little secret?”

“Yes,” his response was a breathy growl.

“I actually like it. A lot.”

She kissed him.

* * *

DRAKE GROANED, LOVING her sweet lips and the weight of her full, round br**sts flattened against him.

Goddamn, she was the sexiest woman he could remember ever being with. Every single thing drove him mad. Her sky-blue eyes. Her sassy smile. Those amazing br**sts that he wanted to kiss and suck some more. The taste of her—everywhere, which he also wanted some more of. Her ass, her legs, but most of all, her strength and determination.

Josie Lynn was no pampered woman like those he’d dallied with when he was human. Spoiled and coddled. Nor was she like the vindictive, cruel bitch who’d made him a vampire. Giselle’s strength had come from being a vampire and it had made her a bully. She was determined, but only to torture and torment others. And he’d been her focus for a long time. But that was decades ago. And now he was lying with a sweet, giving, voluptuous woman who he knew was strong and determined because she had to be. And he wanted to help her. To take away some of that need to be so strong. He got the feeling she could use someone else to shoulder a little of her burden.

As she continued to kiss him, her lips soft and teasing, her tongue hot and wet, his c**k reacted, prodding at the juncture of her spread thighs.

She lifted her head, giving him a surprised smile. “Again? Already?”

He smiled back, too. “I could make love to you all night.”

She ground her hips against him, rubbing his erection against her damp, soft core.

“I can feel that.”

She stroked against him again.

He moaned and so did she.

“Cupcake, I can go all night, but what about you? Are you sore?”

She shook her head. “I’m Cajun, baby.”

He didn’t know what that meant, but it made him chuckle, and his chuckle turned to another long moan as she slid his full length deep inside her.

Then she started to ride him, her hands on his chest, her thigh squeezing his hips, her vagina massaging him like she’d been made only for him.

“Damn,” he muttered, amazed at how she felt.

She pivoted her hips up and down, stroking his length, her gorgeous br**sts bobbing with each bounce. Holy shit.

Then she stopped.

“Do you hear that?”

He frowned, dazed and disappointed she’d stopped riding him. “Hear what?”

Then he heard it, the muffled, distant sound of someone singing. How had he not heard that while she had? He was a vampire, his hearing was, well, supernatural, yet he’d been so wrapped up in enjoying Josie Lynn that he hadn’t been aware of anything else. She was like his kryptonite.