Before she knew it, he had swept her up into his arms and moved them up the stairs at lightning speed. Then, like a gentleman, he laid her out on the bed.
That did not last. He had each of her wrists trapped in his hands at the sides of her head as he crawled up and nestled his hips between her thighs. Savagely, he went to her neck, kissing and sucking and almost nipping, making her hips push the wet material left covering her opening up against his erection.
She was not afraid. Although she could feel he had let go to some extent, she was not afraid to be bitten by him either. However, the fact that the thought of his bite caused more wetness to flow against her panties scared her. He moaned, but moved on to ravage her breasts leaving the nipples in tight buds and the lace of her bra wet with the circling of his tongue. His incisors had lengthened. She could feel the pressure of them, like some sex toy down both sides of her tight bud. His eyes were closed tightly, and the empathetic rush of his lust made her blood work her heart a little harder.
It was when he touched her lower stomach, though, that she cried out. Her legs fell open to welcome him. She arched her back to push herself against him, reaching to connect them as much as she could. She wanted the damn lace underwear off. She wanted to feel his cold, hard dick inside her warm walls which were convulsing without him.
Moving only one hand, he pulled her underwear from her like he had read her mind, snapping the thin bands of lace which left a slight sting across her hips. Moving down like a tiger pouncing, his palms cupped her inner thighs, holding her open while his mouth found her opening. She screamed like a woman being killed, having wanted him there, wished him there. It was surreal and indefinable. He licked and he sucked and he poked at her sensitive flesh with his tongue until her awareness spiraled out of control.
Her body pulsed against his unwavering mouth with each contraction. Heat flooded her system. She pushed against his mouth, thoughtlessly taking more, and his fangs scratched her mound.
She felt his saliva drip onto her skin, felt him lick the slight flesh wound. Then, he was gone.
The door slammed to her room in a second. She sat up feeling his hunger, his rage, his guilt crashing against her like she was being repeatedly being shot. The emotions pierced through her. Not able to even imagine the full effect of those feelings on him, she looked down between her legs to find only two tiny scratches, red but not bleeding on her skin.
“Alex, you did not hurt me. Not a drop of blood has spilled,” she said as she flew to the door.
“Don’t open it!” His voice boomed at her through the thin wood.
“Fine, I won’t. But, stay.” She waited, her skin tingling and aching. “Stay, Alex!”
“I’m here, damn it!” She did not take offense to his tone, still feeling the war going on inside of him in order to keep her safe.
“Can you talk?”
“Yes.”
“Have you had sex before with mortal women?”
“What the hell are you asking me that for?”
“I wanted to know if you have done it before…safely?”
“You are different than they were.”
“Why? How?”
“Because I love you, damn it. I know you do not know me, but I have known you for a long time.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I am afraid of the feelings I have for you clouding my judgment. I cared nothing for the other humans I was with. Some women allow you to bite too, knowing it will increase their pleasure. Is that enough gory details for you?”
“Sarcastic much?” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I saw the bite in the mattress today. When did that happen last night?” She laid her head against the door to be as close to him as possible. His ragged breaths she could hear hitting the other side of it.
“I wanted to feed from you so badly. So, at one point I bit into the mattress so I wouldn’t bite into you.”
“Would it be so bad? Biting me that is? If it would give me more pleasure, I am game.”
“Meranda,” he said in a quiet growl. But, the next second she felt the rough vibration of his fist right as it went through the wall beside the door.
She touched his plastered covered hand, and he growled more ferociously.
“I need you, Alex. I want you. We can work out the logistics of how it will work.
Just tell me we can still be together. Tell me you will try.”
“Meranda, you could be playing with your life.”
“It is my life…”
“It is not your choice,” he cut her off. She bit back her Why not?
“Alex, please…” The silence dragged on between them. The door vibrated between their bodies from the sheer pressure of them both pressing against it.
“Talk to me, Alex. Tell me about watching me. So often I felt you throughout my life. But, only at night. I thought at first it was because I was weaker by nighttime, and you were a stronger spirit able to get through my shields. But, I knew you were not a relative.”
“I woke every evening for the last forty-some years of your life, and I watched over you and your family…when they were here. I bore the guilt, still, that I could not watch you during the day…sometimes anger. I prayed to whoever listens to a dead man without a soul to protect you, to help me keep my promise when it was impossible for me to do so. But, I loved the holidays most when you would go visit your grandfather’s grave. Then, I felt like he knew somehow that I was keeping my promise. Your next visit to the cemetery will be the Fourth of July. I live for those days. Nothing could keep me away.”
Kiki Howell ~where love is a mystical thing~
Please visit http://www.kikihowell.com to see all available titles!
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