The Roman (The Florentine 3) - Page 11

“I need you.”

If William felt surprise at her declaration, he hid it. His gaze flickered to the bathroom door. “What about your sister?”

She squeezed his middle. “There’s a bedroom. It has a door.”

“After so much death, you still desire me?”

She pressed her body to him. “I thought I’d lost you. I’m so relieved you’re all right.” Her voice grew throaty. “I need you.”

William didn’t hesitate. He lifted her to the bedroom and kicked the door closed behind them.

“We aren’t safe, but we will be. I swear it.” His gray eyes burned into hers.

“I’m just grateful you’re alive.”

“As alive as a vampyre can be.” He gave her a half-smile. “We don’t have time for words, if coupling is what you truly want.”

She stroked his jaw. “Yes.”

He placed her on the large, four-poster bed, taking a moment to light a candelabra on one of the side tables. Then he reclined on his back and pulled her atop him.

“I can’t,” she whimpered.

William’s face was stricken. “But I thought—”

She cut him off. “It’s the position.” She gestured to her injured leg. “I’m in pain. I can’t be on top.”

Understanding washed over his fine features.

A high-backed, armless chair stood nearby. William gestured to it. “Would that be all right?”

“We can try.” She looked up at him shyly.

He carried her to the chair and sat, adjusting her on his lap so her legs were suspended on either side of his. His hand went to her injured leg. “And now?”

“Whatever you do,” she breathed, “don’t let go.”

His hands gripped her hips. “Give me my name.”

“William,” she breathed.

“My lover, my Cassita. I shall never let you go.”

She kissed him, her fingers combing through his short, blond hair.

It was easy enough to shift forward on his lap, feeling him rise between her legs. Raven’s movements grew impatient, teasing the inside of his mouth with her tongue as she slid against him.

William touched the arm she’d injured in her altercation with the hunter. “Does it hurt?”

“Not anymore.”

His eyes glittered in the candlelight. He traced her still-swollen lip with his thumb. “And here? Where that fiend struck you?”

“I only feel you,” she whispered, nipping at his thumb.

“Look at you, your eyes, your breasts, your skin.” He wrapped a hand around her neck. “You are magnificent.”

She closed her eyes. “After seeing Simonetta in all her glory?”

William pulled her toward him, and his lips found her ear. “Not even Simonetta in all her glory can compare to you,” he whispered. “I have no desire for her.”

He kissed her urgently and divested her of her shirt and bra. He lifted her in order to remove her jeans and underwear. Now she was naked.

He gazed at her full breasts, wetting his lower lip in anticipation.

“Please,” she whispered, rocking.

He peppered her round flesh with kisses, supporting her with cool hands. “Your skin smells of rain. It reminds me of home.”

She kissed him reverently, leaning into his touch.

His mouth fastened on a nipple, drawing a moan from her mouth as he licked and sucked. He feasted on her for some time before drawing back and passing his thumbs over the sensitive tips.

“I want to feed from you.” His lips fluttered to her throat and slid up the arch of her neck.

“Yes.”

“Set me free.” He licked a patch of skin beneath her ear.

She reached down to his trousers, shifting so she could work the zipper. She took him in her hand. He was already hard.

She moaned as he lifted her and slid her down on top of him.

Her heart beat frantically, the sound like a drum to his ears.

For a moment, she was still. Her skin burned against the coolness of his touch, a bead of perspiration sliding between her breasts.

William caught it with the tip of his tongue.

With a gasp, she began to move up and down, his fingers digging into her hips.

Perhaps it was the position. Perhaps it was the urgency or the darkness. Raven was tense, too much in need to prolong the seductive culmination of so much want.

She angled her neck, presenting the artery to his mouth, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

She moved more quickly, his strong hands pushing and pulling.

Her hair billowed around her shoulders as her orgasm rocketed through her.

“Look at my lark fly,” William whispered, his voice tinged with admiration. “Fly, Cassita.”

He kissed her neck as she vibrated around him, tasting the skin before sinking his teeth into her artery.

Raven’s orgasm crested, and William continued to move, thrusting into her while drinking.

She kept expecting the orgasm to wane, but it didn’t, like a long, sustained note played in c

oncert by an orchestra.

“I can’t,” she rasped. “It’s too much.” She slumped forward, mindless with pleasure.

William emptied himself into her before swallowing her blood. He licked the imprint of his teeth and kissed it.

“Je t’aim.” He buried his face in her mane of hair. “You are part of me, now and forever.”

Raven crashed against his chest.

Chapter Seventeen

“IT TOOK ME FOREVER to finger-comb my hair.” Cara swept from the bathroom into the living area. “You’re lucky you showered first.

“Whoa.” She stopped short, catching sight of William, who held her sister in his arms. He stood next to the couch; Raven cuddled against his chest with a blissful expression on her face.

Raven lifted her head and smiled. “This is William. William, this is my sister, Cara.”

Cara took a step closer. “He doesn’t look like a vampyre.”

A deep growl sounded from William’s chest.

Cara took a very large step back. “Do vampyres growl?”

“That’s enough.” Raven extricated herself from William’s arms and sat on the couch.

His eyes fixed on Cara. “If we are to reach Rome before sunrise, we must leave now.”

“Rome?” Raven caught his hand. “Why Rome? We need to go back to Florence. Cara’s fiancé was hurt.”

A muscle jumped in William’s jaw. He switched to Italian and dropped his voice. “I’m sorry, Cassita.”

“Sorry?” Raven repeated, also in Italian.

“What is it? What’s he saying?” Cara approached the couch.

William pursed his lips. “His injuries were severe.”

Raven’s hand went slack. “How severe?”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Raven’s eyes widened. As the realization slowly sunk in, her gaze shifted to her sister.

Raven blinked back tears.

Cara crossed her arms. “Seriously. You’re both being rude.”

“Cara, please,” Raven stammered. “Give us a minute.”

William squeezed Raven’s hand. “I shall tell her gently, I promise.”

Tags: Sylvain Reynard The Florentine Romance
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