Blood of the Maple

“Enough, sweet. Bloody hell. I think you sucked out my brain.” He helped her to her feet and guided her toward the four-poster bed. Parker touched one of the posts, an evil gleam in his eye. “I approve of your bed. All sorts of interesting places to attach hooks.”

Amara gulped. “H-hooks?”

“Mm.” Parker pushed, and Amara fell onto her back, her legs dangling over the edge. “The better to tie you up with, my dear.”

When he crawled on top of her, she put her hand on his chest. “I’m not into pain, Parker. Pain hurts me.”

He placed a soft kiss on her palm, then repeated the gesture on her other palm. “I know.” He took both of her wrists in his hand. Without taking his eyes off her, he pulled her arms over her head. “Don’t move.”

Did she want to play his game, or did she want to challenge him, see what would happen if she disobeyed?

He skimmed his hands down her body. Her breasts ached for his touch, but he avoided them, brushing the sides but ignoring the peaks. She considered moving her arms, but his next action left her motionless. He lifted her skirt and moaned at the sight of her bare pussy. “I love a woman who wears a dress without knickers.” He lapped once at her wet folds before forcing her legs apart. His stern look had her trembling. “My turn. Remember, keep your hands where they are.”

Amara gave a shuddering sigh when his mouth descended once more. She grabbed her wrist, determined to play along, to let her vampire be the dominant partner this time. He wanted to play, and she would let him. He wouldn’t hurt her, and if he continued doing that swirly thing with his tongue, she might grant his wish and put hooks in her bed. Her entire body was a giant instrument of pleasure, expertly played by Parker’s mouth. He took her clit into his mouth and sucked it, strumming it with the tip of his tongue in mind-bending strokes. She bucked, desperate for more, and the tips of his fangs grazed her wet folds. The thought of him biting her there both scared her to death and aroused the hell out of her.

Her body moved without conscious control. Her breasts were hard and aching, desperate for a touch, a lick, anything he cared to give them. She tightened her thighs around his head, then parted as her body raced toward orgasm. She lifted her legs and dropped them again, alternately thrusting her hips into Parker’s face and twisting beneath him, trying to find the angle that would send her screaming into the abyss.

But her hands stayed right where he’d left them, and that tiny bit of control she’d given him made the pleasure that much deeper. She trusted him, and he rewarded her in the best possible way.

“Goddess, Parker. If you stop, I will fucking kill you.”

Parker hummed around her clit, and Amara screamed as she came, unable to breathe, every muscle locked tight in ecstasy.

The tremors finally eased, and her sight returned. And oh what a sight it was. Parker was still lapping at her, keeping her vaguely aroused and unable to come all the way down from the incredible high he’d given her. He kept it up, over and over, licking her, tasting her until she moved under him again, frantic to keep his tongue right there.

Parker looked up at her desperate face and smiled. Something sparked deep within his gaze as it landed on her needy breasts. He focused his attention on one, and Amara shrieked. Phantom fingers plucked at her nipple, this side of the pleasure line of pain. That touch sent her once more over the edge, her body rippling under his touch in an explosion that rocked her to her core.

She opened her eyes to find Parker sliding into her. He’d lifted her legs, planted her calves on his shoulders. He cupped her ass, lifting her to meet his thrusts. His cock pounded into her, sending her bouncing. Only his grip on her ass kept her from sliding away from him.

He licked his wet lips and stared down at where they were joined as he took her over and over. “You were made for me. Made to take my cock.” He clenched her ass, and she knew she’d have some bruises from the strength of his grip. Their flesh slapped together, and Parker’s eyes narrowed to slits, leaving a ruby gleam beneath dark lashes.

Amara’s breasts ached. She needed to be touched, needed her nipples toyed with. She was so damn close to coming, but she couldn’t quite get to where she needed to be. Why wasn’t he touching her?

Parker opened his eyes. He must have seen how much she needed, because he moved her legs and wrapped them around his waist. “Hold on, sweet.” She did as she was told, holding him tight between her thighs. He shoved the dress farther up until it was above her breasts, exposing them to his greedy gaze. He moved his hand to hold her steady while he fucked her, his palm on her stomach. He stroked her breasts with his free hand, finally giving them the attention she craved. He plucked and twisted her aching nipples. She cried out, the mix of pleasure and pain driving her closer to the edge.

He slid his hand down her sweating stomach until his thumb brushed the edge of her clit, circling the soaking flesh until she was on the verge of coming. Parker’s jaw clenched. “So fucking close. Come for me, sweet. Come on my cock.”

Parker moved his thumb a hair, and that was all she needed. Her body bowed off the bed, the orgasm so intense she came close to blacking out. Her vision darkened, her lungs seized and she didn’t care that she could be dying. She’d be one hell of a happy dead woman.

Parker bellowed, his body throbbing as he emptied his seed into her. He gasped, barely able to catch his breath, sweating like a pig and more beautiful than anything she’d ever seen. He collapsed on top of her, his knees barely on the bed, his cock inside her, still hard despite the fact that he’d already come. His hot breath danced across her breasts; his forehead pressed against her breastbone. “Gods above.”

Amara couldn’t answer. She wasn’t sure her lungs worked right anymore. She couldn’t seem to gulp in enough air to do much more than pant.

He lifted his head and grinned, so full of male satisfaction that she tightened in response. “You’re a very good girl.”

Amara tilted her head. “Hmm?”

“You didn’t move your hands.”

Amara blinked. Hell. She’d forgotten all about them.

Parker laughed huskily and dragged her up the bed. “That’s my girl.”

Amara smiled. His girl. She liked the sound of that.

Chapter Six

“Good evening, Ms. Gallagher.” Parker’s good humor was being seriously strained. This was one of the worst evenings he’d had since moving to Maggie’s Grove. He’d hoped things at the local farmers’ market, another twenty- four-hour, one-stop shopping place for the vegetarian vampire, would be better, but from the scowls he was receiving, he’d been wrong.

Ms. Gallagher, a woman who’d shyly rung him up on several occasions in the past few weeks, took one look at him and almost growled, “You’re with Amara Schwedler, aren’t you?”

What the hell is wrong with these people? He hadn’t met such hostility since he’d walked into a speakeasy nearly a century ago and flashed a fake badge. “Yes,” he drawled. Her stare was beginning to piss him off. It bordered between afraid and hostile, a look he’d seen several times since he began shopping.

“You know she’s not normal, right?”

Parker smiled sweetly, while inside, his rage boiled over. She was the third person to tell him Amara wasn’t normal, whatever the fuck that meant. “You’re right. She’s not normal.” He leaned in close, until her pupils expanded with fear. His eyes had gone deep red. “She’s better.”

Slowly he leaned back, out of the woman’s personal space. He left his selections on the counter, too angry to continue shopping. If one more person called his mate a freak, he was going to kill someone. True, Amara was unique, but she wasn’t a monster. This was Maggie’s Grove, for fuck’s sake. Women rode broomsticks without generating comments; werewolves bayed at the full moon, and people couldn’t care less. The mayor was a fucking vampire. And they had the audacity to call his sweet Amara abnormal?