Shadow's Claim (Immortals After Dark #13)(88)

She’s in love with this kiss between us, as much as I am.

Still on his knees, he rubbed his hands up her torso, possessively fondling her damp breasts, pinning them under his palms. He licked her even harder, dipping his tongue to her opening to gather wetness, then laving her clitoris with it.

My Bride, my prize, my feast.

She threaded her fingers through his hair and rocked to his tongue. “Harder, vampire,” she breathed, gone wanton with need. “Deeper.”

“Bett!” He couldn’t give her what she needed, couldn’t penetrate her body in any way. Not with his fingers, his fangs, his cock. Frustration seized him—I want to be so deep in you, f*cking you so hard! His hips instinctively thrust, but his shaft found no softness to sink into.

“Trehan,” she moaned. “Please, I-I need . . .”

With a growl, he surrendered his grip on her breasts and clutched the backs of her thighs, trapping her knees wide to get deeper with his tongue.

“Oh, my gods, yes!” Her broken cries sounded awed: “Never felt . . . it’s so strong . . . you make me feel . . .”

Her trembling thighs pressed against the sides of his face as her flesh began to quiver. On the very edge, she gripped the back of his head, undulating her hips up—as she tugged him down.



Even in the throes, Bettina knew that this secreted place on her body—a place no other male had ever touched—was now his.

He’d claimed it with his tongue, with his lips, with his harsh growls. And she’d surrendered it fully.

Was the vampire rasping words to her between each lick? “Tell me you’ll let me . . . do anything to you!”

His fingers tightened on her thighs, urging her to answer.

“I . . . I . . .” She couldn’t think. Why wouldn’t she let him do anything—if it felt like this? Did he mean sex? Can’t think.

Why were those words so important to him?

All she knew for certain was that she needed to dig her nails into his muscular back, to lick his skin, to grind into his kiss—

Ah, gods, his wicked tongue was everywhere. “Oh, vampire, don’t stop. . . .”

As she neared her peak, pleasure dancing within reach, her mind could generate no other thought: “Coming!”

An instant later, ecstasy overwhelmed her. Scorching and boundless, it coursed through every inch of her. Back arching, she flung her arms wide—and screamed.

A fierce groan broke from his chest as he bore down on her with his mouth. Though her orgasm ebbed, he licked her even more greedily. Sounding frenzied, he delved right at the entrance to her sex, where her sheath was still spasming. Could he taste her?

Too much! Writhing beneath the iron grip of his hands on her thighs, wriggling from the lashes of his tongue, she pleaded, “Oh, stop!”

He didn’t; he took her clitoris between his lips. And gently sucked.

“Ah!” Lost again.

Rippling waves inundated her. Helplessly, she surrendered to them . . . just let them come and come. . . .

Once her second release subsided, he finally began kissing up her body, rasping something in Dacian, something that sounded like a promise—or a threat. She didn’t recognize the words, but she recognized the So help me . . . tone.

“Soon, Bett.” She thought he grated, “As deep and hard as you need me.”

Panting, she lay with her legs spread and—for blissful moments—not a care in the world. Again she felt like she was floating, yet tethered.

Gradually she came to her senses, keen to please him as well. He’d drawn back on his haunches, staring at her sex with such a fierce hunger that she almost became fearful.

With each second, he looked even more agonized. His body radiated waves of tension. “Ah, female”—he swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing—“I can see where I would kill to be.”

His comment made her want to snap her knees shut, but something told her she didn’t dare.

More harsh words in Dacian followed. He repeated, “A mea.”

Mine?

“Vampire?” Her gaze trailed lower. His engorged shaft pulsed against his pants, the material straining.

“If you knew . . . the thoughts running through my mind right now.”

Gathering her courage, she eased up on her knees and laid one palm against his face. Such a slight touch, but he quaked from it. “Daciano, I want to reciprocate.”

He choked out, “Then we’re . . . in accord.”

Maybe it truly wouldn’t matter that she was sexually untutored. Maybe he could still enjoy her clumsy kisses. She reached for his shirt; he tore it away.

“You know I’ve never done this,” she said distractedly, her attention fixed on the glorious muscles of his chest. I really need to sketch him.

“Drag?, you don’t have to . . .” He trailed off when she reached for his pants.

“But I figure I’ll make up for my lack of experience with enthusiasm.”

Another groan. “If you’re enthusiastic about this, I won’t last long to enjoy it.”

Enthusiasm did matter. She grinned up at him.

He gazed at her lips, exhaling a gust of breath. “Do you know how many times I’ve come while imagining those lips of yours around my shaft?”

Her brows drew together. “But you’ve only been blooded for a few days.”