My Vampire Idol (Shifting Reality 3)

“Yes,” she gasped. “Oh, fuck yes.”

Her hands pressed against the marbled tile on either side of her for balance as she lifted her hips—begging him with her body. Mac gave her what she wanted, focusing on thickening the mist, stretching her, slipping around and down until he was pressing insistently between the cheeks of her delicious, round ass.

Rose went wild. “Yes. Do it. I want you to.” She stood up and turned around spreading her legs again and placing her hands on the bench as she bent over. “Please, Mac. I’ll do anything.”

Oh God. She knew. Knew he was there and wanted him as desperately as he wanted her. Her words had taken away what was left of his control—he realized it when his strong, solid hands gripped her hips and his thumbs spread her cheeks for the erection pushing against her tight, resistant muscles. “Jesus.”

“Yes,” she moaned. “Yes, fuck my ass. Take me. Make me take you. Every—oh yes—inch. ”

What kind of power did this demon have over him? He thrust slowly inside her and growled. “Do you like that, demon? Can you take more?”

“Everything,” she whimpered, her hips pressing impatiently back against him. “It’s so big. So thick. Give me all of it now, Mac. Fuck me now.”

The dark desires inside him demanded nothing less. One hand left her hip to grip her long, dark curls. He tugged and she shivered. “Demanding, are you? Is it a fucking or a spanking you want?”

“Both,” she laughed breathlessly. “I’ve been imagining you spanking me since we sang. Oh, Mac, that feels good. Deeper… Spanking me with your strong, rough hands…hard smacks until it stings. Until I’m red. But I can’t move. You won’t untie me until I promise to be good.”

He bit his lip, as aroused by her words as he was by the tightness squeezing his cock. He curled his body over her back to whisper in her ear. “Will you? Will you promise to be a good girl for me?”

“Why don’t you try me and find out, vampire?”

A challenge. Jesus, she was without shame. Without fear. Seemingly without sexual limitations. It was liberating. So freeing he would laugh if he weren’t so close to coming.

He tugged on her hair again. “You’ll get what you’re asking

for, that I promise you.” He thrust deep and they both groaned. “Rose, you’re a witch. It feels too good…”

“Yes. I can feel it. Don’t fucking stop.”

He couldn’t if he wanted to. Couldn’t speak, could only grip her hair and her hip, his body helpless to do anything but pump against her, reveling in the wicked sensation. Hard as he wanted. All that he wanted. Everything.

He wanted her blood. God forgive him. He wanted everything. “Rose…”

“Yes, my vampire. Take what you need.”

She knew. As if she could read him, she knew. Mac felt the tremor, the hunger rising inside him when he opened his mouth over her neck. He slid the hand on her hip around and thrust two fingers in her wet sex as his fangs extended and pierced her flesh.

Madness. Her blood was a madness that instantly pervaded his senses. He could taste her desire, knew she was hungry too. Knew he would give her what she needed—his passion. She fed off it like a vampire fed off human blood. It was her chocolate. Her drug.

She could easily become his.

There was danger in her demon blood. It burned down his throat and intensified every sensation and emotion. It made him wild. The predator he’d always resisted becoming. The hungry animal acting on instinct and lust. He thrust hard and deep until he was buried inside her, his fingers rough as they fucked her, his fangs still puncturing her skin. He saw the blood dripping down the curve of her breast and he forced himself to lift his mouth, roaring in denial as he came so hard it nearly blinded him.

She’d shattered him. Broken down hundreds of years of walls as if they were made of no more than mist. As a vampire, he had never felt so alive. A warrior’s cry of victory tightened his throat. Never had he wanted anything as fiercely as the new desire clawing inside him.

To have her again. To taste her again. Her blood. Her sweet blood. To fuck her. To keep her.

Rose was screaming his name as she found her own climax, her body bucking in his embrace—as lost to it as he had been.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back against him, licking the blood from her shoulder tenderly as she shuddered. “That’s right,” he soothed. “That’s so good, Rose.”

She went still in his arms for a moment before pulling away and reaching for the soap, handing it to him without making eye contact. “Thank you.” Her words sounded forced. “I’m glad we got that out of the way, aren’t you? Now we can focus on the contest.”

Mac washed himself without taking his eyes from her. What was she up to now? She’d stepped onto the stage and pushed herself into his life, throwing herself at him, giving herself to him…and what? He was supposed to leave now that she’d gotten what she wanted?

To hell with that. “If you really want to thank me you’ll go dry yourself off, walk to the middle of the room and get on your knees until I come to you.”

Dark eyes met his, startled. “Excuse me?”