Blood Assassin (The Sentinels #2)(48)

Trying desperately not to lose herself in the complex combination of sensations that surged through her.

There was lust. Hell, she was a few good strokes away from climax.

But there was also tenderness, and affection, and a dangerous yearning for more.

Was she really willing to put herself in a position to have this man destroy her again?

“I can guess what you want to do,” she said in husky tones.

Fane gave a low groan, pressing his lips to the pulse beating at the base of her throat.

“There’s no need to guess,” he rasped, “I’m quite willing to show you.”

“Generous of you.”

Slowly he pulled her leg higher on his thigh, allowing the tip of his cock to brush down her ass before he was between her legs and pressing the massive crown into her wet entrance.

“I intend to be generous as often as you’ll allow me.”

She hissed in need as he allowed just the tip to dip inside her channel.

Dammit. Was he deliberately trying to torment her?

“Can you be generous any faster?”

He spread hungry kisses up the length of her exposed neck. “No.”

“That’s it?” She tried to wiggle lower. Just the few inches needed to impale herself on all that Sentinel yumminess. “Just no?”

His hand gripped her hip, holding her immobile. “I like it slow.”

She scowled, glimpsing the ruthless warrior who needed control.

“And I like it . . .” Her complaint ended on a sharp moan of exquisite pleasure as he slid inside her with one deliberate, ruthless thrust. Yes. God, yes. She struggled to form the words. “Oh, just like that.”

His lips nibbled over her nape, one hand stroking over her lower stomach while the other continued to tug at her nipple.

“I told you slow was good.”

“Did you?”

“You need to trust me, Serra,” he murmured. “I’ll never hurt you.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. How could he say that? He’d already hurt her time after time.

But the reminder of just how bad an idea this was shattered as he withdrew until he was once again posed at her entrance before surging upward with enough force to make her moan in pleasure.

Her mind fogged with bliss her hand slipping over his side to dig her nails into his hard ass.

“I trust you know what you’re doing in bed.”

“It’s a start.”

She intended to remind him about the whole this-is-only-sex thing, but all thought evaporated as he sank deep inside her, joining them until it felt as if they had become one.

It was hokey, and stupidly romantic, but it was dangerously true.

“Fane,” she breathed, feeling oddly vulnerable as he buried his face in the curve of her neck and his hands began a slow, delectable exploration of her exposed body. “I need—”

“What do you need?” He moved his hand to caress her neglected breast while his other hand blazed a sizzling path down the damp skin of her stomach. “This?”

A groan was wrenched from her throat and her head dropped back to his shoulder as his fingers stroked boldly over her eager clit.

“Yes,” she rasped in approval.

He pressed heated kisses down the curve of her cheek as he rocked his hips forward and back, creating a delicious friction. She hissed in pleasure, her arms lifting over her head to wrap around his neck.

“Slow and sweet,” he said against her shoulder, his lips lightly caressing her flushed skin. “We have to enjoy the solitude while we have it.”

Serra didn’t intend to argue. Her eyes slid closed as she concentrated on the sensation of his cock penetrating her with slow, steady thrusts. It felt so good. So . . . she groaned, already sensing the looming climax.

“I suppose you have a point,” she moaned, her nails scraping his nape.

She savored the scorching heat from his large body pressed behind her, her body bowing with a coiled tension as he caught the tip of her breast between his finger and thumb.

“You will soon discover I’m always right,” he assured her with outrageous arrogance.

She tried to make a sound of disgust, only to have it come out as a shaken moan. “Is that so?”

“Absolutely.”

As if to prove the truth of his words, Fane picked up his pace, slamming into her until her entire body shuddered with satisfaction.

“God, you feel as if you were made for me,” he rasped.

“Or maybe you were made for me,” she muttered, shaken by the intensity of their lovemaking.

And it was lovemaking.

Not sex.

Not a casual hookup that would be forgotten the minute she crawled out of bed.

Females would sacrifice everything to hold on to this sort of feeling.

“I don’t have any doubt at all,” he groaned, pumping into her with a swift, magical pace. “Just you.”

“Fane—”

“Shh,” he said, halting her protest, kissing a path of destruction up the side of her neck. “Just let me pleasure you.”

Serra shoved aside the warning voice in the back of her mind.

What did it matter?

She would deal with the emotional fallout later.

After she’d found Molly.

And the toxin was removed from her body.