A hand tangled in my curls, tipping my head back and exposing the column of my throat. Heat bloomed in my belly as Rans slid fangs into the delicate skin of my neck for the second time in our short acquaintance. And, yes, I knew my slutty reaction was still pretty fucked up, but this time I refused to feel guilty or weirded out about it.
The deep, drawing sensation seemed to have a direct line to my sex. My spine bowed as my body tried to arch off the bed... to get closer to the hard body poised above mine. I didn’t lose consciousness this time—I guess whatever was ailing Rans right now hadn’t left him as ravenous for blood as a gunshot to the chest, at least.
The razor sharp points of his fangs slipped free of my skin, and a tongue rasped over the twin wounds. Vampire blood and saliva have healing properties, I remembered distantly. Indeed, I couldn’t feel any evidence of blood dripping from the wounds, and the burn of sensation that should have been pain—but wasn’t, exactly—was already fading.
The pulse of need between my legs sure as hell wasn’t fading, though. I bucked my hips up, seeking friction, and was rewarded with a rough growl of, “Bloody hell, woman.” Fingers dragged one of the spaghetti straps of my silky nightgown over my shoulder until my right breast spilled out of its cup. Lips closed around the nub and I keened, trying to press more of the soft globe into that cool mouth.
It was so good... so good... but it wasn’t what I really needed.
“Clothes,” I gasped.
Rans made a low noise in his throat and his weight disappeared. The room was spinning, whether due to my blood loss or the fact that whatever blood I had left was currently pulsing and throbbing between my thighs, I wasn’t sure. The vertigo was irritating, because it meant I couldn’t fully appreciate the sight of Rans stripping out of the tailored trousers and button-down he’d worn for the flight from St. Louis.
I guess my blood had helped him, because he didn’t seem to be unsteady anymore—though it was a bit hard to tell with the room moving in ponderous circles around me. I closed my eyes against the dizziness when hands slid the silken fabric of the nightgown up my thighs. My legs fell open of their own volition, making room for the cool body that settled between them.
When lips brushed my sex in a closed-mouth kiss, it drove a sharp, high-pitched noise from me. I arched, trying to get more, but the hands that had pushed my nightgown out of the way closed around my hips with a grip almost hard enough to bruise.
Rans seduced my sensitive folds with his lips the way another man might have seduced my mouth with a kiss. Teasing... questing lightly along the seam until my body bloomed under his touch, parting to invite him deeper.
I grasped handfuls of the green duvet, desperate for an anchor as I was dragged into the riptide and pulled under. The orgasm rolled over me as his clever tongue slid up my length to torture my clit with firm strokes. It left me reeling, still dizzy—unsure which direction was up and which was down.
And it still wasn’t what I needed.
“More,” I begged.
A moment later, he was stalking up the length of my body. One muscular arm hooked my left knee over his elbow, drawing my leg almost double against my body as he braced on his other hand and positioned himself over me.
“I suspect you’re about to learn the meaning of the phrase, ‘Be careful what you ask for,’” he said, and sheathed himself inside of me.
That was what I needed—the sweet nectar of his sexual energy a counterpoint to my body’s pleasure as the heady stretch deepened into a delicious ache.
“Give it to me,” I demanded. “Let me feel all of it...”
He let out a low, breathless noise and lowered his head, teasing the place he’d bitten earlier with lips and teeth as he began to move. I canted my hips to meet each slow thrust, the angle letting him drive deliciously deeper with every stroke.
This. This was heaven. I could feel his body giving itself to me, in counterpoint to the way mine had given itself to him when he’d drunk blood from me. We rocked together, his lips gradually working their way up my neck to tease the hinge of my jaw, brush at my ear, and then slide across my cheek in a series of butterfly kisses.
When his mouth slanted over mine, I shuddered in ecstasy at the intimacy of being connected in both places. God... I could taste myself on him. My lips parted, our tongues dueling as my body urged him ever closer to his own release. I could feel it coming. I wanted it. I needed it.
And then he was jerking free of the kiss, burying his head in the crook of my shoulder as his smooth strokes grew sloppy. His body jerked, the feeling of his pleasure flowing into me like a drug I’d never be able to get enough of. It flowed into my core, spreading to my limbs, making me strong. If I’d harbored any doubts as to what I was, that feeling erased them.
I was drawing sexual energy from his body as surely as he’d drawn blood from my veins.
Eventually he stilled, letting my leg slide free of his grip but not making any move to withdraw. He didn’t let his weight sag onto me as I curled fingers through the dark hair at the nape of his neck, but I could feel his arm muscles trembling faintly on either side of me.
After a long
