The Darkening (Page 23)

His c**k responded, loving the attention. He had hard-on-hard right now.

Show me your fangs, he sent .

She tilted her head to look up at him, her eyes glinting in the dim light of the room. She parted her lips and there they were, two sharp elegant points.

“Do it,” he commanded, his voice deep.

She turned, angled her head, and struck to the exact right depth. He shouted at the jab, followed by the sucking of her mouth, taking deep pulls from his life- blood.

He put a hand on her head and grunted his pleasure, as much from the sight of her sucking his vein as from the knowledge that he gave her something every vampire needed.

She moaned softly, her fingers digging into his ass. After a couple of minutes, she pulled back and he could feel the wounds closing up.

She arched her neck upward so that he could see her face. Her eyes were closed, a blush on her cheeks, her lips red.

His groin felt wounded and well-used and he loved it.

“I feel stronger,” she said.

“You look beautiful.” She rose to her feet. “I know what I want, but I’m not sure how you’ll feel about it.” He kissed her. “I’ll give you anything right now, anything you ask.”

“When I was at the counter earlier, your pressure on the small of my back, your touch, brought me. I want you to take me from behind and use your hand again, just like that.” He shuddered because the thought of taking her in that position lit him up.

She smiled and kissed him. “I take it the idea appeals.”

“Hell, yeah, it does.” She slipped from his arms and bent over, not to get into position but to pull the covers back.

But the sight of her like that gave Samuel a different idea. He stepped close to her, almost unable to control himself.

“Let me try something first. Bend over, but keep your feet on the floor. I mean, if that’s okay?”

“Hey, anything you want, I’m game.” Okay, he took a couple of breaths as she stretched out on the bed, her legs over the side, her ass rounded, firm, gorgeous.

She pulled her hair over one shoulder so that he had a perfect view of her damp wing-locks.

“I need to taste you,” he murmured.

She groaned softly.

He adjusted her legs, spreading her feet apart then dropped to his knees and dipped low, swiping his tongue over her swollen flesh, then thrust his tongue inside her. She whimpered.

You taste as I thought you would, like the sweetest flower. I could eat you like this forever. He set about proving himself as he dipped inside repeatedly.

He could tell she was almost ready to come again, so he quickened his tongue- thrusts and as she’d asked, he massaged her lower back with his right hand.

She groaned first, a heavy, muffled sound against the comforter. Her hips writhed, then suddenly she arched her back and screamed. He continued the brisk plunging and the massaging until the orgasm rolled through her completely and her body began to loosen. Only then, when he was sure the last of the ecstasy had drifted away, did he stop.

A warrior could get used to this. He never took women to his home, his bed.

But somehow the thought of Vela being there one day made his heart swell again.

Was this the breh-hedden or was he really starting to feel something for this woman, something surprising?

She lifted herself up on her elbows and while looking back at him, she tugged her hair farther to the side, exposing her throat. “How about we go the distance and you tap my vein?” He might have grunted something in response or growled, he wasn’t sure.

Maybe a combination of both.

He positioned himself behind her and holding his c**k got the right fit then he began to push. She moaned with each thrust of his hips.

“Heaven,” she said.

“You feel like heaven.” He closed his eyes and savored the feel of her pulling on him as her hips pushed back with each thrust.

Her winglocks released fluids so that more of her scent reached him, that sweet, almost familiar floral scent that he couldn’t quite place. He leaned over her and gently sucked on one of her wing- locks, which were extremely sensitive. A long low moan left her throat.

“Samuel, you’re killing me.”

“Ride it, Vela. Ride it hard.” He sucked some more.

She panted several times then her voice rose in pitch until she was crying out once more, pleasure peaking, as he sucked her wing-lock and kept his c**k hitting her just right, stroke after stroke.

But the flavor of her winglock moisture triggered something deep inside, something primal. He shifted so that he could reach the side of her neck. He licked her throat and drove his c**k into her.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Please, yes.” He licked over and over until her vein rose. He paused in his thrusts only long enough to bite hard once, retract and suck, then put his hips back to work.

Vela was strong and held her position beautifully. Taking her blood down his throat built a new fire in his body, giving him stamina. He pumped into her now, as he sucked, and each thrust sent a cry from her throat.

“Oh, God, Samuel,” she cried out.

He sped up but finally released her throat. He held onto her hips and slammed into her. He felt her tighten and his orgasm arrived, a blinding pinnacle of white light and erotic pleasure, lightning streaking through his cock, flying up through his body, until the room spun. He shouted as he thrust, matching her cries that filled the room.

Then something happened and he could feel himself reloading. What the f**k?

“I’m going to come again,” rushed out of his mouth.

“Good. I’m ready. I don’t know what this is, but it’s amazing. I think it was taking your blood.” She was so tight. He pummeled her once more and felt her release just as he came again, ecstasy carrying him along, doubling at the sounds of her cries and moans until at last she collapsed forward and he landed on top of her, spent.

He breathed hard, hoping to hell his weight didn’t crush her.

“Oh, my God,” she whispered. “That was unbelievable. If this is the breh- hedden, please give me more.” He’d been thinking the same thing.

He’d never come twice like that but her blood had changed him, made him stronger.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He kissed her cheek, and pushed her hair away from her face.

“No, not at all.” When he could breathe again, he folded a washcloth from the bathroom into his hand and as he withdrew from her, he pressed it against her body. She turned on the bed and adjusted the cloth. He stretched out beside her, tugging her into his arms. Her lax, sated body flowed over his, an arm over his chest, a leg over his legs.