Davy Harwood (The Immortal Prophecy 1)

Did I dare believe him? I wanted to—badly. I lifted my head, met his black eyes, and smoothed my thumb over his cheek. “I’m a little moody right now. I’m not used to being… so powerless. I hate it.”

He didn’t say anything. Then he dipped and touched his lips to mine.

I closed my eyes and felt it again. It had been rushed and fevered, but the wave of lust swirled slowly throughout me. The heat spread from my fingertips, up my arms, down my sides, around my toes, and back to settle in my center.

I entwined my arms around his neck.

Roane grazed his lips against mine, hypnotically back and forth. I arched upward, needing more. As my neck was stretched to the fullest, he slid his mouth down my neck and settled on my collarbone where he started to suckle.

My hand cradled the back of his neck and my other slid over his shoulders, feeling the hard dip between his muscles until it rested on his hip. Roane continued to suckle and I pressed down on his head, just lightly.

It inflamed him. He swiftly lifted me up to place me on the bed.

I laid there; dazed at how quick he’d reacted, but Roane didn’t wait for my brain to catch up. He shucked his pants and quickly unzipped mine. As they slid down my legs and past my toes, I panted for breath. After he dropped them on the ground, Roane crouched over me. His eyes met mine, captive and fevered.

Then with a tug at his lips, he slid a hand up my leg. Sharp desire pierced me, but I could only gasp for breath and lay there, nearly paralyzed. I watched, entranced, as his hand slid to my waist, caressed my stomach for a moment, and then dipped between my legs. As a finger entered me, my paralysis was gone. I shot up from the bed and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. I threw one leg around his hip. Roane grasped it and raised it higher. His finger slipped further inside and I could only cling as it started to move in and out.

The sensations built quickly. He kept moving, in and out, until I gasped and turned my mouth towards his shoulder. My lips grazed his skin and in a drunken state I pressed my teeth against his skin.

Roane groaned roughly.

I nipped his skin—he shuddered. I licked him and he slid two fingers inside of me.

My fingers dug into him, starving. Then I bit—quickly and savagely. I needed more, but I didn’t know of what.

Roane arched his head and growled. I felt the reverberations between my legs and then I moaned as Roane quickly positioned himself and entered smoothly. At his first thrust, I wrapped my legs around his waist and hooked my ankles.

The pleasure intensified and I couldn’t think. I couldn’t do anything except hold on as the fever built and built.

Roane bent his head down and found my collarbone again where he started to suckle. His teeth grazed against my skin and he nipped lightly when he thrust deep at the same time. The pace quickened, in and out, back and forth.

I groaned, but bit my lip to silence my moans.

“No,” Roane gasped and lifted himself off of me so his weight didn’t press down anymore.

I protested and tried to draw him back down.

He held me off and I bit down harder on my lips as he pistoned into me. Deftly, Roane slid his thumb between my lips and bent down to whisper, “Bite down on me, not on yourself.”

I didn’t register the desperation in his voice, but I felt the pleading through my body. And, answering something carnal, my teeth pierced his skin.

Roane cradled my head and quickened his pace. We were both lost, only feeling each other.

I felt his blood slide down my throat and gasped, needing more.

Roane held me tighter against him, almost crushing me, but I welcomed it. I needed it. I was starved for more—and then the fever built. I was on the edge—Roane grasped my hip, pulled out, and slammed back inside. Both of us went hurdling over the edge. The waves took over my body. I collapsed on the bed and was powerless as the ripples coursed through me. Then slowly my eyelids fluttered shut.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

“It’s the three ring circus. There are clowns, tigers, one legged elephants, and for a bonus feature: we’ve got a white zebra. You in for the count? You want tickets with that heaping bowl of popcorn? Deal’s going once, twice, too late.”

Only one voice said things like that—I sighed and sat up in the darkness. “I’m sleeping… again.”

“Again—you mean ‘finally’!” It chided me, “You’ve been awake for a very long time. It’s about time you fell off to nanaland. I can only amuse myself so much in here. You’re not that entertaining of a person.”

“Thanks… for that.”

“Keeping it real, Bearded Lady.”