I work my finger all the way inside her. At the same time, I rub her clit with my thumb. My lips capture her cries as she begins to tumble into ecstasy.
Zahara purrs against my lips as she climaxes, her body shaking and shivering. I swear I can see sparks from her skin as she shudders in ecstasy. There’s a flash of obsidian fur as the tremors abate. Then she lies still.
Her eyes are closed. Her breathing is even. There’s a satisfied smile on her face. She curls into my arms, just like a well-fed kitten, and falls asleep.
I pull my hand from her pants. The tip of my index finger is coated with her virgin’s blood. I stare at the drop of crimson for a long moment. Then, with reverence, I place my finger in my mouth and suck.
My eyes close as more sparks fly behind my eyelids. She tastes like magic. She tastes like mine.
Below, the beast settles, secure in the knowledge that it will have its turn in due course. I push that thought away and pull Zahara securely into my arms. Then, for the first time in my life, I cuddle another living being.
Chapter 10
Zahara
I’m used to sleeping with other people. My family grew up poor, living in the poorest parts of towns and villages. There were always other cousins kicking out on the mattress and stealing the threadbare covers. I learned to train my mind to think of others’ snores as night sounds from one of those fancy spa machines. The snorts and snuffles were accompanied by the chatter of the creepy crawlies out in the fields—which usually harmonized with the snores—because an open window was the only ventilation.
I wake to nothing but a hum in the underground cave. Virius doesn’t snore. He is silent and still in his sleep, which is the reason why I woke. I’ve never had my own room, and I’ve never slept under the blanket of a man.
Virius is warm against my flesh. He doesn’t kick or smother me. He holds me close to his chest, as though I am precious. His body is hunched to the edge of the cot in an uncomfortable position. He holds himself awkwardly, but he doesn’t fidget. The vast majority of the small cot is left for me.
When I awoke, I worried that he might be dead. Because of the prophecy. Not because I care about him.
True, he just gave me an out of body experience with his fingers. Calling that orgasm an out of body experience is a big deal for a woman who can shift her body into another form. I’d nearly shifted as I shuddered in the onslaught of bliss. The panther in me had sat up and clawed to get out. She wanted to experience the pleasure first hand. She’d nearly gotten out, and would have if I hadn’t fallen into the deepest, most contented sleep of my life.
All at the hands of this man. I shift to look down at him. He looks peaceful, boyish even. I tamp down that skip my heart just threatened.
Virius Serrano has no place in my heart. I have to fulfill my destiny, and he is the means to that end. Even though soon after, he will come to an end.
I move from under his arm. When I do, his hand flops down like a lifeless doll’s. My heart skips that beat now. Maybe he is dead?
At the thought, my heart comes to a full stop. He can’t be. He wasn’t even inside me. There is no way I’m pregnant. The books I read weren’t that graphic, but I know enough biology to know that a finger-fucking won’t get me knocked up.
I cup my hand to Virius’s cheek. He is cold to the touch. But I feel the slight hiss of breath from his nose. My chest loosens, and I begin to relax.
I have to remind myself: he is a vampire. He sleeps like the dead because he is not truly alive. He died hundreds of years ago.
I’m going to bang a quadricentenarian, yet the man doesn’t look a day over twenty-one. That has to be how old he was when he was turned. So, technically, he’s my age.
I brush a tendril of his curly hair from his face. He doesn’t stir. For such a big and menacing-looking man, he is so soft.
Virius’s features are relaxed in his sleep. Just looking at his face, it’s hard to believe that he’d hurt a fly. If I’m honest, I can say that this man is beautifully created. At least my son will be handsome.
My fingers brush over Virius’s broad shoulders. The span of them takes up the entire width of the small cot. My own body barely touches the mattress now. Virius is the cushion upon which my body rests. My torso is propped up on his chest and abs. My legs are twined with his.
I move my hand from his shoulders to the center of his chest. I’m surprised to find his heart beating. It’s a faint beat but it’s there. It’s pumping someone else’s blood through his system.
I wonder who he drank from last. I wonder if he’ll be thirsty soon. The thought of him piercing my skin should be disgusting, but I press my thighs together as a vision of it flits through my mind.
I bend my leg at the knee and bump up against the anaconda in his toga. Virius is hard, erect, even in his sleep. I guess that beast never sleeps.
He says he won’t have sex with me because he’s so big and I’m so small. I’m sure every guy thinks that, but with Virius, it is one hundred percent true.
I saw what he is working with. It writhes beneath the cloth even now. His cock is the same thickness as my forearm, and just as long. He might be right. There is no way that thing is getting inside me comfortably.
So why does the
