Shadow's Claim

She grazed them again.

“Bettina!” he roared, bucking his hips uncontrollably. For a brief second, cool air met his upthrust cock.

She gasped at his ear, making him shudder. She’d seen a glimpse. How would she react? What would she do next?

She leaned in closer, until the side of her face was touching his. Her lovely unmasked face. Skin to skin. Panting, she eased forward even more. When the corners of their lips were flush, his parted in surprise.

Though it was torture, he went motionless. What will she do next?

He held his breath. His cock pained him as never before. His body began to quake—

Then came one sly dart of her little tongue . . . the lightest dab at the edge of his mouth, just inside his parted lips.

Thought fled.

With a roar, he traced to his feet to seize his prize.

* * *

The vampire’s hands shot out for her.

“Wait!” Bettina cried as she tumbled from her knees to one hip.

He froze. Gradually, he straightened. Between ragged breaths, he said, “I’d never hurt you, Bett. Never.”

She frowned up at him. That thought hadn’t crossed her mind. If she’d feared him, then she wouldn’t have been trying to tease him to distraction—so he’d thrust his hips and show her his erection again.

Her one fleeting glimpse as it’d breached the surface of the water left her beset with curiosity. With desire.

In lieu of thrusting, his standing completely naked in front of her worked too.

Oh, my gold, how this works.

He must’ve realized she had no fear of him because he put his shoulders back, must’ve realized that she’d craved this view because he lifted his chin.

“You want to see your male?” he grated, masculine pride suffusing his tone.

“My male?” A male. This male . . .

I’m staring up at a naked, fully aroused vampire. Blooded and in his prime.

She felt giddy, as drunk as she’d been during their first encounter. The sight of him like this not only aroused her, it delighted her.

The fire was to his right, illuminating his glistening skin, shadows and light at play. Under her gaze, every sinew of muscle contracted, rippling. Water streams licked over every mighty rise, over every rigid fall.

Drops sluiced down his chest to his navel, meeting at that dusky trail of hair leading down, down.

When her gaze followed, he said in a gravelly voice, “This is what you do to me, Bett.” His accent was thicker than she’d ever heard it.

She was transfixed by his erection—again, giddy. Her peek had been just the tip of the iceberg. So to speak. At the thought, a laugh escaped her.

Which made him scowl and cross his arms.

Had she actually tried to convince herself that she would view him as a subject of study?

Uh-huh. For my art.

She couldn’t even think that with a straight face.

“Strange little sorceress,” he suddenly murmured in a wondering tone. “You’re . . . happy.”

She gave an absent nod and began lovingly taking in every detail of his manhood.

Crisp black hair circled the base. Just below it, his heavy sac tightened before her eyes. The shaft was veined, the skin so taut. The engorged head strained toward her, as if toward her parted lips.

What would it be like to feel that firm crown at her mouth, like a plum warmed in the sun? She grazed her fingertips over her lips as she imagined it. Would the vampire shudder and groan if she pressed her tongue against him there?

“Ah, Bettina, your eyes go light,” he rasped. “Have you looked your fill?” Were his legs quaking?

My fill? No. Not at all.

Planes, textures, colors? Proportion! His body taken all together was a tableau of perfection—a masterpiece she needed to appreciate more fully.

One that was making her wetter than she’d ever been in her entire life.

He inhaled deeply, and his body shot even tighter with tension. Could he tell how he affected her? Of course, he would scent her.

What would he do next? She wished she had more experience with these things.

“The way you look at me, woman . . . I could come under your glittering gaze. I wager my merry sorceress would like to see that.”

She’d only felt it in her hand before. Form and function. She thrilled to watch her creations work, to perform as intended. She wanted to see this part of him . . . release. “Now that you mention —”

He scooped her up. In an instant, she was weightless, traced to his bed.

“Oh! What are you going to do?”

His words like a growl, he answered, “Pleasure you.” He covered her with his big wet body, wrapping his brawny arms around her as his lips descended to hers.

And it felt wondrous.

This time she didn’t break away, didn’t deny him. When he touched his tongue to the seam of her lips, she parted them, letting him taste her.

She knew there was a reason she shouldn’t be in bed, kissing a naked vampire, but her thoughts were still scrambled from the sight of him.

Against her lips, he said, “Zeii, I’ve craved your kiss, all this long day. Craved more of what I found in your bed.”

“Was last night really the first time you . . . ?”

“Came?” he groaned the word. “First time in centuries.”

“Did it . . . did it feel good?” Was I too clumsy? Too inexperienced?

“Ah, gods, female, it felt very good.” He licked at her lips. “Your soft little palm wrung me dry. I can’t even look at your hands without getting hard.” With that, he took her mouth totally, those firm lips claiming hers. Sensuous flicks of his tongue coaxed hers to meet him.

She did eagerly, but he kept their kiss slow, fierce—devastating. How could he be so good at this after so long without?

Each stroke of his wicked tongue drew her ardor to the fore, making her wild for him. She wriggled her body closer to his, to his warmth and palpable strength.

Were his hands busy at her waist? Ah, her sarong. Oh, gone!

His kisses stifled any halfhearted protests she could have managed. Had he just wedged his hips between her thighs?

Yes! That glorious shaft pressed over her panties, its length like a brand from her mons past her navel.

More kisses, more movement. Her arms were over her head. Wrists briefly in his fist? A whisper of sensation on her breasts?

He’d removed her top? Yes, cool air tickled her nipples—until the hot, slick skin of his chest shoved against her naked breasts. She moaned into the kiss.

When he hooked a finger around the side of her thong, she comprehended that it was the only barrier left between them. She jerked her head back. In a strangled voice, she said, “Vampire, my panties!”

“Off! Yes, dragă . . .”

“No, they stay!”

With a rumbling sound of disappointment, he flexed his hips. His erection rode over the silk, over her mons, leaving utter pleasure in its wake.