This Side of the Grave (Night Huntress, #5)(54)

His whole body jerked while flashes of pain and pleasure assaulted my subconscious. I mashed the top of the candle together to ensure that it was out before throwing it aside, ignoring the fleeting burn in my hand. Then, before the wax had a chance to cool, I fastened my lips around the head of his cock. A primal groan came from his throat when I pulled him in deeper, tonguing his flesh, taking as much as I could with two sharp, pointed fangs in the way. He felt like sculpted marble, flesh warmer from the contact with the wax that clung between my fingers. I stroked him as I continued to work his length into my mouth, sucking on his flesh like I wanted to rend the skin from him.

His hands clenched convulsively, tearing the sheets from the ripping noises. I didn’t pause to check, but continued to flick my tongue along his flesh, brushing away the wax. Only pleasure flooded through our connection now since he’d already healed from the initial contact the wax caused. Even if I couldn’t feel that through his emotions, I’d know it because my hand didn’t sting anymore. Besides, I knew that on occasion, Bones liked a little pain with his passion. And after I became a vampire, I found out one of his favorite ways to receive it.

I lifted my gaze to stare up at him as I took him as deeply into my mouth as I could, my fangs pressing against the veined hardness beneath them. His eyes closed and his back arched—another invitation I took him up on.

I sank my fangs into him, reveling in the shudder that went through his body and the shout that seemed to erupt from his throat. The ambrosia of his blood teased my tongue as, very carefully, I rocked my mouth against him, taking his cock deeper without enlarging the punctures I’d made in it.

This had taken practice to perfect.

That blend of ecstasy and pain swarmed back over my emotions. He groaned, hips lifting in time to the rhythmic movement of my mouth. I pulled my fangs out to sink them in again at the base of his groin, only my vampiric lack of a gag reflex making it possible for me to enclose him completely. Then, I sucked once more, running my tongue along his length while swallowing the drops of blood that leaked past my fangs from the punctures.

“Turn around,” Bones said hoarsely as his hands urged me up toward him.

I resisted, knowing what he wanted and also knowing I’d lose all sense if I let him do it.

“No. Just you, or I’ll stop,” I said, the words somewhat garbled, but punctuated with another slide of my fangs into his flesh.

He moved so that he was on his side, his body curled toward mine, hand reaching between my thighs. A choked moan escaped me as he rubbed my cleft, thumb circling my clitoris even as his fingers penetrated my depths.

“You’re so wet,” he muttered. “I want to drown in your taste and cover myself with your scent.”

The graphic imagery made even more things inside me tighten, but I had a reason for not wanting him to go down on me, even if I couldn’t recall it at the moment.

“No,” I said again, taking him back inside my mouth and grazing his length with my fangs.

He groaned. “Soon. Don’t stop, Kitten. Deeper. More.”

I encased him to the hilt again, sucking even more strongly. His hand stayed where it was, fingers moving over my flesh with greater insistence, making my hips arch with each accompanying stroke. An ache began to build in me, a familiar tension that spoke of needs that couldn’t be denied. Each rub wound me tighter, inflaming me. I continued to draw on the hard length of him, licking and biting the spots I knew he liked best, trying not to give in to the urge to feast on his blood. His hand moved faster, until cries spilled from my mouth even though they were muffled by his flesh.

“I can’t wait anymore,” Bones all but snarled.

I barely had time to pull my fangs out of his skin before he yanked me up, sliding down at the same time. His arms lashed around my waist, holding me in a viselike grip, mouth latching onto the soft, tingling flesh between my legs.

Pleasure slammed into me like a dam had burst. His fingers dug into my hips, molding me closer. Tongue and fangs and lips became a blur of sensations that whipped me with rapture, stealing all thought under the chaotic flood. The more I moved, the higher it took me.

Harsh cries took on the cadence of breathing, fed by a million nerve endings that urged me on for more. Had his hands not held me, I would have fallen from the tremors that started to rip through me. They culminated in an orgasm that felt torn out of me.

Some measure of coherence returned, enough to make me mildly embarrassed at how his head was now compressed several inches into the mattress. He finally released his grip and I fell back onto the bed. When he crouched over me, his eyes were still fierce, flaming green. A chopped inhalation escaped me when I saw traces of blood around his mouth. Mine? Or his?

“Bones—”

“Don’t.” Something lurked in his tone that shivered me. “Don’t say anything, especially ‘stop.’ You’re in for it now.”

He gathered me to him, pulling me to my knees and turning me around. One pale arm curved around my waist, holding me firmly. In the next moment he thrust into me, sheathing himself in one rough stroke.

It made me cry out, as did the next one and the next, so hard and fast I felt tears leak from my eyes. He ran his mouth along my back before dragging it to my ear.

“Don’t hold back.” His steady tone belied his movements, driving into me with more force than I thought I could bear. “Scream for me.”