“Enough,” he groaned as he sat up in a rush and pulled her on top of him. “I need in you.”

The next thing she knew she was on her back on the couch and he was on top of her, his great weight bearing down, her thighs split wide around his pelvis, that sex of his a firebrand at her core. With some trick of the hips, he angled himself properly, and she braced herself for a powerful penetration.

No regrets, she thought.

She had no regrets about any of this. If anything, he was a blessing she never would have had the guts to pray for.

“I’m ready,” she told him as he hesitated.

“I just don’t want this to be over.”

Funny, she knew exactly what he meant.

With a groan, he dropped his mouth to hers and kissed her as he slid inside, inch by slow, delicious inch. No pounding after he’d filled her, either. Just a retreat and re-advance, gentle … sweet. And she was glad. As much as she wanted the raw passion, he was very large and it had been a long time.

The self-control cost him, however. Sweat broke out across his shoulders, and the muscles in his arms tightened up until they spasmed, the veins in his neck looking like ropes.

It was incredible, though. The in and the out, the friction, the heat—

Pleasure, already at a stinging level, grew inside of her and snapped free in a glorious release, the waves of sensation radiating outward from her core, sure as if her body were a vessel catching golden rays.

Against his mouth, in the middle of the orgasm, she whispered, “Don’t hold back. I can take it.”

Because she wanted him to experience the same thing, at the same time.

But he just held his course, slow and steady, letting her ride out her release.

When it was over, he closed his eyes and dropped his head into her neck. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.” Sarah cleared her throat. And then tilted her head to the side. “Do you want to …”

“What?”

“This,” she said as she stroked up her own throat.

As he stared at her in alarm, she said it again. “Do you want this?”

That purr came back, louder, deeper, more urgent. And the sound of it was what put her over the edge again, especially as she imagined those razor-sharp points buried in her vein. Throwing her head back, she moved against his static body, stroking herself on his arousal, riding out the pulses until he started to orgasm along with her.

As he kicked inside of her, filling her up, her sex gripping and releasing his erection, he started to move again, faster now. Faster and harder.

The next thing she knew, he had locked her in a tight hold, one arm under her shoulders, the other wrapping around the back of her knee and pulling one of her legs up. His power, his strength, his heavy body, was an erotic cage that she nonetheless knew she held the key to: She was unafraid of him while she soared.

She trusted him.

And he did not stop.

Whereas a human man would have stilled after his first orgasm, Murhder just kept going, more of the releases coming for him as they did for her, the pleasure seemingly unending, the sex suspending them both in an infinite now that was full of sensation.

Eventually, though, he locked against her hips one last time, and then he collapsed, draping his torso over the back of sofa as if he didn’t want to smother her.

In the silence, they both breathed hard, their bodies throwing off heat, their limbs entwined.

The peace that followed was as profound as the passion had been.

Except when he finally looked over at her, there was a sheen in his eyes that had nothing to do with happiness.

“What’s wrong?” she whispered, running a hand up his biceps.

All he did was shake his head and she knew exactly what he was thinking about. There was no happily-ever-after for them, no long-term, no this-is-just-the-beginning.

“Don’t think about it,” Sarah told him roughly.

“You’re right.”

But the way he gathered her into his arms—as if she were precious, as if she were liable to break—told her that those were just words to placate her.

How long did they have, she wondered.

She wasn’t going to ask, however. Even if they had a year, a decade, a century, none of that felt long enough.

For passion like they had just found? Only forever would do.

Murhder didn’t want to put his clothes back on. And he really didn’t want Sarah to get dressed again, either.

Having her skin covered by anything but his mouth and hands, his very body, was a crime as far as he was concerned. Except they couldn’t pretend they had true privacy down here. Sooner or later, First Meal or not, someone was going to want to come in here for a Coke from the refrigerator or one of those Florida grapefruit in that bowl over there.

And even though it was no one’s business, he didn’t want it to look like he and Sarah had just banged. She wasn’t some floozy he didn’t care about, for godsakes.

So they pulled their shirts on, and she her sweatshirt as well. Then she used the bathroom across the way, shutting herself in, water running. When she came back out, her pants were back on and his were done up.

As her eyes sought him out, he could have sworn there was a small, secret smile on those lips he had kissed so thoroughly. Or maybe he was just telling himself that. Dearest Virgin Scribe, what a female—woman, whatever. And she’d wanted him to take her vein, too?

Closing his lids, he relived the moment her hand had drifted down the column of her throat, and lingered right over her jugular vein. He’d been desperate to taste her, take her into him, feel her essence go through his own veins, but he hadn’t fed in a while and it would have been too dangerous. He didn’t think he was hungry enough to hurt her—if there was even a chance of that, though, he was not going to risk it. Sometimes, when males were really into the sex and you added feeding on top of that? They could go over the line without meaning to, and because she was human, he couldn’t offer her his blood in return to make sure she was replenished.

“Well …” she said. Then she took a deep breath and went over to the vending machines. “Fancy anything? We have a stunning array of salted munchie-crunchies at our disposal and there is dessert. Lots of dessert. And hey, wow, it’s all free.”

She pointed to the keypad where you made your selections and glanced over her shoulder at him.

Except then she frowned and shifted her eyes up to the TV in the corner. Craning around, he went to see what she was focused on. But it was just a local nightly news report on mute.

“Do you know where the remote to that is?” she murmured.

Without waiting for an answer, she walked across the break room to see about finding it herself, and he took the opportunity to unlock the door with his mind. Not that people weren’t going to know what they’d just done. Males would scent him all over her, and damn if that wasn’t satisfying.

As a soft patter of talk grew to one that was fully audible, she crossed her arms and stood right under the flat screen. Someone in a suit and tie was talking about something political, and then there was a report on a stolen car.

“It’s not in the news.” She flipped to some other channels and then looked across at him. “What we did last night is not on the news—BioMed is a national corporation with a billion-dollar valuation. There is no way a break-in would not be all over the broadcast even here in Caldwell. Hell, it would make CNN. Do you have a phone on you? I want to see if anything was reported anywhere.” o;Enough,” he groaned as he sat up in a rush and pulled her on top of him. “I need in you.”

The next thing she knew she was on her back on the couch and he was on top of her, his great weight bearing down, her thighs split wide around his pelvis, that sex of his a firebrand at her core. With some trick of the hips, he angled himself properly, and she braced herself for a powerful penetration.

No regrets, she thought.

She had no regrets about any of this. If anything, he was a blessing she never would have had the guts to pray for.

“I’m ready,” she told him as he hesitated.

“I just don’t want this to be over.”

Funny, she knew exactly what he meant.

With a groan, he dropped his mouth to hers and kissed her as he slid inside, inch by slow, delicious inch. No pounding after he’d filled her, either. Just a retreat and re-advance, gentle … sweet. And she was glad. As much as she wanted the raw passion, he was very large and it had been a long time.

The self-control cost him, however. Sweat broke out across his shoulders, and the muscles in his arms tightened up until they spasmed, the veins in his neck looking like ropes.

It was incredible, though. The in and the out, the friction, the heat—

Pleasure, already at a stinging level, grew inside of her and snapped free in a glorious release, the waves of sensation radiating outward from her core, sure as if her body were a vessel catching golden rays.

Against his mouth, in the middle of the orgasm, she whispered, “Don’t hold back. I can take it.”

Because she wanted him to experience the same thing, at the same time.

But he just held his course, slow and steady, letting her ride out her release.

When it was over, he closed his eyes and dropped his head into her neck. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.” Sarah cleared her throat. And then tilted her head to the side. “Do you want to …”

“What?”

“This,” she said as she stroked up her own throat.

As he stared at her in alarm, she said it again. “Do you want this?”

That purr came back, louder, deeper, more urgent. And the sound of it was what put her over the edge again, especially as she imagined those razor-sharp points buried in her vein. Throwing her head back, she moved against his static body, stroking herself on his arousal, riding out the pulses until he started to orgasm along with her.

As he kicked inside of her, filling her up, her sex gripping and releasing his erection, he started to move again, faster now. Faster and harder.

The next thing she knew, he had locked her in a tight hold, one arm under her shoulders, the other wrapping around the back of her knee and pulling one of her legs up. His power, his strength, his heavy body, was an erotic cage that she nonetheless knew she held the key to: She was unafraid of him while she soared.

She trusted him.

And he did not stop.

Whereas a human man would have stilled after his first orgasm, Murhder just kept going, more of the releases coming for him as they did for her, the pleasure seemingly unending, the sex suspending them both in an infinite now that was full of sensation.

Eventually, though, he locked against her hips one last time, and then he collapsed, draping his torso over the back of sofa as if he didn’t want to smother her.

In the silence, they both breathed hard, their bodies throwing off heat, their limbs entwined.

The peace that followed was as profound as the passion had been.

Except when he finally looked over at her, there was a sheen in his eyes that had nothing to do with happiness.

“What’s wrong?” she whispered, running a hand up his biceps.

All he did was shake his head and she knew exactly what he was thinking about. There was no happily-ever-after for them, no long-term, no this-is-just-the-beginning.

“Don’t think about it,” Sarah told him roughly.

“You’re right.”

But the way he gathered her into his arms—as if she were precious, as if she were liable to break—told her that those were just words to placate her.

How long did they have, she wondered.

She wasn’t going to ask, however. Even if they had a year, a decade, a century, none of that felt long enough.

For passion like they had just found? Only forever would do.

Murhder didn’t want to put his clothes back on. And he really didn’t want Sarah to get dressed again, either.

Having her skin covered by anything but his mouth and hands, his very body, was a crime as far as he was concerned. Except they couldn’t pretend they had true privacy down here. Sooner or later, First Meal or not, someone was going to want to come in here for a Coke from the refrigerator or one of those Florida grapefruit in that bowl over there.

And even though it was no one’s business, he didn’t want it to look like he and Sarah had just banged. She wasn’t some floozy he didn’t care about, for godsakes.

So they pulled their shirts on, and she her sweatshirt as well. Then she used the bathroom across the way, shutting herself in, water running. When she came back out, her pants were back on and his were done up.

As her eyes sought him out, he could have sworn there was a small, secret smile on those lips he had kissed so thoroughly. Or maybe he was just telling himself that. Dearest Virgin Scribe, what a female—woman, whatever. And she’d wanted him to take her vein, too?

Closing his lids, he relived the moment her hand had drifted down the column of her throat, and lingered right over her jugular vein. He’d been desperate to taste her, take her into him, feel her essence go through his own veins, but he hadn’t fed in a while and it would have been too dangerous. He didn’t think he was hungry enough to hurt her—if there was even a chance of that, though, he was not going to risk it. Sometimes, when males were really into the sex and you added feeding on top of that? They could go over the line without meaning to, and because she was human, he couldn’t offer her his blood in return to make sure she was replenished.

“Well …” she said. Then she took a deep breath and went over to the vending machines. “Fancy anything? We have a stunning array of salted munchie-crunchies at our disposal and there is dessert. Lots of dessert. And hey, wow, it’s all free.”

She pointed to the keypad where you made your selections and glanced over her shoulder at him.

Except then she frowned and shifted her eyes up to the TV in the corner. Craning around, he went to see what she was focused on. But it was just a local nightly news report on mute.

“Do you know where the remote to that is?” she murmured.

Without waiting for an answer, she walked across the break room to see about finding it herself, and he took the opportunity to unlock the door with his mind. Not that people weren’t going to know what they’d just done. Males would scent him all over her, and damn if that wasn’t satisfying.

As a soft patter of talk grew to one that was fully audible, she crossed her arms and stood right under the flat screen. Someone in a suit and tie was talking about something political, and then there was a report on a stolen car.

“It’s not in the news.” She flipped to some other channels and then looked across at him. “What we did last night is not on the news—BioMed is a national corporation with a billion-dollar valuation. There is no way a break-in would not be all over the broadcast even here in Caldwell. Hell, it would make CNN. Do you have a phone on you? I want to see if anything was reported anywhere.”

Tags: J.R. Ward Black Dagger Brotherhood Fantasy
Source: readsnovelonline.net