Until the Sun Falls from the Sky (The Three #1)(121)

“Holy Christ,” he repeated.

Was this what she was dreaming? Was this what sent her fleeing the bed, terrified and sobbing?

It had to be.

“Holy Christ,” he gritted between his teeth.

She stirred.

He moved, turning her still sleeping body into his arms, he put his mouth to her, tasting her, his hands stroking at the same time. Down his mouth went to her breast, he rolled his tongue around a nipple.

“Lucien?” Her sleepy voice sounded, her hands came to his shoulders.

He moved south.

“Lucien,” she breathed, the fingers of one hand sliding into his hair.

He spread her legs, shifted her calves over his shoulders and put his mouth to her. Relentlessly, he feasted on her as she gasped and panted, her fingers clenched in his hair, her h*ps bucking.

Voracious, always voracious, his Leah, this time, demanding more of his mouth. Her muscles tensed, heels digging into his back and she cried out his name when she came.

He surged over her, controlling his heart, calling out to hers, making them beat as one while slamming into her lush wetness savagely in one, long, smooth, brutal thrust as she panted out his name again still in the throes of her cl**ax. He nearly forgot to sweep his tongue along her neck before he extended his razor-sharp fangs and tore through her flesh.

Then he was thrusting, her body jerking, her blood pumping into his mouth with each deep, violent plunge, every beat of their hearts throbbing in tandem.

He’d been correct.

Fucking rapture.

She wrapped herself tightly around him and came again, harder, nails digging into his skin, breath catching and halting, heart tripping. He felt the pressure building in his own body, sharp and fierce, his c**k aching to release.

He closed her wound with his tongue and used her hair to force her to face him.

Her eyes half-closed, somnolent, sated, he shook her head with his fist in her hair, trying to be gentle and fearing he’d failed when her eyes snapped open.

“You’re mine,” he growled, surging into her.

“Yes,” she panted without delay.

“Say it,” he demanded.

She acquiesced, again immediately, “I’m yours.”

“Always.”

As he thrust into her, faster, harder, the pressure building, her body jolting under him, he felt her limbs tense and watched as her face paled.

She didn’t speak.

“Say it, Leah. Always,” he ground out.

“Lucien…”

He thrust into her, deeper, harder and she whimpered in pleasure.

“Say it!” he commanded.

Her eyes locked with his.

“I’m yours, Lucien,” she whispered, “always.”

It was at that moment he came, long and hard, an orgasm unparalleled in eight hundred years. It was even better than the one she’d given him last night during their first joining which he would have thought impossible.

After, he allowed his weight to collapse on her for long moments before he heard her breath turn heavy from taking his burden.

Then he rolled them, careful to keep them joined, so he was on his back, she was straddling him, her torso to his, her face in his neck, breath still coming fast and brushing lightly against his skin.

Moments passed, Lucien matching his heart to the pulsing rhythm of Leah’s as he tried to shut down his mind. To shut out the images burned there from his dream. The traces of satin on his hands. The dread tearing through his soul as he sought to escape the hunt. None of this reconciled with Leah in his arms, her sweet wetness still tight around his cock, her br**sts crushed against his chest, her heartbeat thumping rapidly.

Belatedly, he smelled her fear.

“Leah?”

Her heart skipped and his skipped with it.

Then she whispered, “What was that?”

“Leah –”

She started to lift up but his arms held her captive.

“Don’t move,” he ordered, “we’ll disconnect.”

She stilled.

Then she asked, “Lucien, what just happened?”

He had no earthly idea. He’d never behaved with such a driven even desperate need before.

This wasn’t true. When he discovered the enemy had tortured and murdered his mate, he’d behaved with a driven, desperate need for fifty years. First fighting then hunting anyone who had anything to do with those who brought about Maggie’s death.

Why he felt that need now, outside a reaction to the nightmare, he didn’t know.

What he did know was that he wasn’t going to tell Leah that he’d shared her dream. This would likely alarm her and until he understood what was happening he intended to shelter her from that.

So in an effort to shield her, Lucien lied.

He moved his h*ps and her muscles contracted deliciously around his still-hard cock.

“I think the answer to that is fairly obvious, pet.”

“I… you… we,” she stammered, “it’s never been like that.”

His fingers sifted in her hair and he murmured, “We’ve only been lovers one night, Leah.”

Her body jerked and he caught her again before her movements could break their joining, something which he was compelled to prolong, again for reasons unknown.

“I don’t mean it’s never been like that between you and me. I mean it’s never been like that for me ever. Maybe for any woman in the history of time.”