Until the Sun Falls from the Sky (The Three #1)(36)

He did this carefully, savoring the taste of her but keeping a rigid hold on his control.

“It freaks me out when you do that,” she whispered and his head came up.

His hand slid down her side, around, over her ass, pulling her up as he pressed his groin to hers.

“Do what?” he asked.

“Move so fast.”

His mouth went to hers as he ground their h*ps together. When he did, without hesitation she reciprocated the movement and the effect was staggering.

“You’ll get used to it.” His voice betrayed his heightening arousal.

She opened her mouth but didn’t get a chance to speak because he kissed her.

He dispensed with the discovery he’d used to initiate their first kiss. His tongue swept inside her mouth and her reaction was delightfully immediate. Her body bucked upwards seeking something more even though his weight was pressing her into the bed. Her head tipped to the side giving him better access and her tongue tangled boldly with his. Her hands tugged his shirt from his trousers and he felt them travel up the skin of his back.

Her touch sent shockwaves tearing through his system and he growled into her mouth, deepening the kiss. She welcomed it, taking from him at the same time she gave and invited… no, demanded more.

He gave her what she wanted and contentedly absorbed her moan when he did.

He broke their connection and his mouth glided to her ear.

“I like the way you kiss me, pet,” he whispered there and he felt her head turn.

Her lips close to his neck, she breathed, no guard over the wonder in her words, “You’re so big, heavy, strong. You make me feel tiny. I’ve never felt tiny. Not in my whole life.”

He sensed this was important, something she’d always desired but never had and he was pleased he gave that to her. His mouth went back to her throat, gliding again along her skin. He was suddenly intent to give her something else, something she couldn’t imagine she’d long for but she would, he’d see to it.

“Your mouth is going to tingle, sweetheart,” he murmured against her skin before he used his tongue on her again.

Her neck arched, her limbs tightened, her nails curled into the flesh of his back.

“It already is,” she whispered. “Why is that?”

“I’ll explain later,” he replied quietly, his hand at her ass moving around her hip slowly as his mouth drifted up her neck, to her jaw, back to hers.

He caught her gaze as he lifted his h*ps away from hers and his fingers trailed along the waistband of her panties.

“Are you ready for me?” he asked softly.

Her eyes grew wide and her lips parted. Lucien loved it when she looked at him like that.

Especially now.

So much, he didn’t wait for her reply and his hand dipped into her underwear. He touched her, finding her sleek, hot and very, very wet.

She was ready and as if to prove this further, at his exploring touch, her neck arched in invitation. An invitation he gratefully accepted.

His lips went to her throat and his teeth tore through, her blood flowing into his mouth at the same time he slid a finger inside her.

She gasped and it wasn’t in pain. It was a sound of sheer pleasure and her h*ps bucked against his hand.

He withdrew his hand even though he knew she wanted it and he wanted her to have it.

Tonight, however, her lesson would be only about the feeding.

She whimpered when she lost his hand but he drew her blood into his mouth. He heard her second gasp, this one surprised, excited. Her hands coming out of his shirt and, just like that morning but with both of them this time, they came to his neck, up, and then her fingers fisted in his hair. Not to pull him back, to hold him to her.

Her body arched, pressing into his as he heard her heart race, her blood scoring through her system, her breath coming in wilder and wilder pants.

“Oh my God,” she breathed, her hands clenching tighter in his hair. “Oh my God,” she cried softly, trembling underneath him.

His arm wrapped around her low on her h*ps and he held her body tightly to the warmth of his. He stroked her wound with his tongue and reared up, taking her mouth with his and he kissed her hard.

She kissed him back, her hands still clutching his hair, her mouth greedy.

He broke the kiss and her eyes slowly opened, alluringly foggy with desire.

“Do you see why I like the taste of you?” he asked, his voice a low growl.

“Yes,” she whispered her admission, her voice a soft moan.

He buried his face in her throat again, reopening the wound and drinking deep.

“Lucien,” she whispered.

He sucked fiercely, thrilling at the sound of his name on her lips when her blood, just as delicious, surprisingly even more so with the vodka mingled with it, was pouring down his throat. This caused her to gasp yet again and writhe underneath him.

She was done, he knew it. He’d taken enough. Even though he wanted more, his mouth detached and he swept his tongue along the wound. The bleeding stopped instantly. The healing had already begun.

He pulled his body over her and rolled to his side, gathering her in his arms and taking her with him. He tucked her face in his throat, cautious with the still healing wound.

Her breathing was heavy as was her pulse and she whispered with a mixture of disappointment and marvel, “You’re done?”

He shook his head and tightened his arms, drawing her deeper into him.