Even though she’d come, her body moved instinctively. Her hips moved, to seek to put his erect cock right against her clit.
Underneath him, her breasts pressed against his chest. Soft dark hairs tickled. Her nipples were squashed a bit by him, but it was a sensual feeling.
“I want to make love to you. I want to be deep inside you. Buried to the hilt. Do you want it, Felie?”
The harshly spoken words set her aflame. “Oooh, yes.”
“There shouldn’t be pain. I want to join with you, Felie.”
She’d almost forgotten she could touch him, she could use her hands. She ran them down his broad back, coasting over planes of firm muscle. Her inquisitive hands reached his naked bottom. He no longer wore trousers—he had quickly pulled off them and his boots. She touched bare skin. Cupped his taut rump. Felt the hard muscles flex as he lifted his hips.
Heavens, the tip of his huge cock touched her slick cunny. Her nether lips parted, letting him slide in just a bit.
“Oh!”
He captured her mouth in a sizzling kiss, tangled her tongue with his. Lots of luxurious play with his tongue. A kiss that made her heat like molten wax.
He thrust his hips forward, and his cock impaled her, sliding deep, filling her. She clutched his shoulder. It felt wonderful. She felt so full, so full of his hot, thick cock. He drew back, and she gasped as she felt the pull of his shaft inside her. Gracefully, he pushed forward again, and his cock went so deep his groin collided with her clit.
Her eyes rolled back in ecstasy. She moaned fiercely.
He went so deep, his skin sliding and teasing her skin. Each thrust teased a secret place inside that sent waves of delight over her. Each thrust banged her clit.
Ophelia gripped his shoulders. They moved together. She thrust, trying to match his strokes, seeking release.
She wrapped her legs around him. Touching him all over. Loving him—
Oh heavens!
Raven drew in a controlling breath. He bowed his head over her, fighting for control. Her cunny held him tight, squeezing him with slick heat. Her pussy pulsed around him. Her eyes were closed, her mouth strained as she moaned and cried out through her orgasm.
“Raven!” she cried. He thrust into her, driving into her climaxing quim.
“I love this . . . love you. Oh!”
Never had he heard those words gasped so desperately on a woman’s lips. His fiancée had never said it like that.
He slanted his mouth over her. Kissed her full, soft lips. Nuzzled her jaw as she sobbed and rocked against him. Her climax seemed endless.
He kissed her throat—
Suddenly, her scents overwhelmed him. The scent of her pussy, the sweetness of her skin, the richness of her blood, pumping like mad beneath her skin.
He pulled back.
“Your fangs are out.”
He ducked his head. Focused to make them retract. He’d already fed, damn it, while he was outside. There was no hunger in him.
His cock was still hard. She’d only come twice.
“It’s all right. I can control them.” He withdrew his cock, which ached as it left her hot cunny. “Three more, love. Let’s have them in bed.”
Four orgasms and she had drifted off to sleep.
Raven got up from the bed and lifted the sheet and counterpane, gently covering Ophelia with it. She lay on her side, curled up. He should wake her and give her one more orgasm and take her power—then turn her power over to Queen Jade to protect his sister.
Then he would die.
Or so Guidon said. There was something in his past that would destroy Ophelia’s love for him, and he couldn’t escape his fate of destruction unless she knew the truth and loved him in spite of it.
He had no idea what in hell it was.
Raven was tired of the world of demons, with its curses and spells and the fact every hope for escape and happiness came with either a destructive price or a devious catch.
He didn’t want to wake Ophelia, either. She’d endured hell earlier and survived. In one day she had learned he was a vampire, she had been taken prisoner and almost dissected. He was thankful she was able to sleep.
There was time—time for him to make her climax again. He could try taking her power tomorrow. It meant giving her five more orgasms tomorrow, but he was ready for the delicious challenge.
Outside, stars glittered against the black sky. It was night again, a whole day since Ophelia’s blood scent had tempted him beyond sanity and he’d had to run. Tonight, after he had gone out to see who watched his house, he’d hunted quickly in the stews for prey. In mere minutes, he’d found a brute of a man to feed on. It had taken away the ferocity of his hunger, allowing him to return to her.
But watching her sleep, Raven could picture her blood thrumming through her veins. He had to get out and feed again.
How could he ever dream of a future between them? He couldn’t make her into a vampire, and he couldn’t stay with her because he feared he would lose control and take her blood.
It didn’t matter if she loved him or if there was a reason in his past for her to hate him. He had to die, damn it.
Destruction was his only future.
Raven left her bedroom and dressed. He had to go and find prey—and while he was doing it, he was going to ensure his sister, Frederica, was still safe.
He left the house, locking it carefully, and passed through the streets fully dressed. He walked, but moving at such speed he was a blur. Mortal London moved past him with no clue he was there. Animals sensed him. Dogs barked and howled, horses shied, but their human masters chastised them with no idea the animals had better senses.
It took mere minutes to come to Mount Street, to find his old house. Candlelight blazed from the window, but there was no ball here tonight. His sister must be out.
Then his hearing picked up a soft, feminine sigh, the delicate sound of a girl being pleasurably caressed.
Hades.
Was that his sister? If the scoundrel from the ballroom was taking liberties, he would drink the blackguard’s blood and tear him limb from limb.
Vampires could move almost silently. Or they should be able to. Raven stepped on a fallen branch as he made his way around the shrubbery in the dark. It broke with a snap and a young woman gasped, “Someone’s there. Someone has followed me.”
“Wait here.” The masculine voice was filled with determination, but sounded young also.
Raven retreated into the shadows by the lilacs. Worry for his sister had made him clumsy.
“Hello?” The young man stepped out. Beneath his hat, his golden hair gleamed in the moonlight. The lad moved slowly, his eyes scanning around him. He looked like he expected danger, a battle. But he should suspect someone like her cousin, the new marquis, or a governess might have stumbled on them.
Raven saw what the young man held in his hand. The lad’s fingers gripped tight around the end of a wooden stake, and he held it at shoulder height, ready to plunge.
Raven reeled back on his heels, stunned.
A vampire hunter? What in Hades was Frederica doing with a young vampire slayer? And why did the man believe that whoever Frederica thought was following her was the undead?
Guilt and horror hit Raven. Had she somehow learned he had been turned into a vampire?
It broke his heart. He would never hurt his sister, yet what else could she believe but that he was a monster? Even as a mortal man, he’d been a killer, though that had been sanctioned by war. But if she now knew what he was, she must know he was violent and vicious and she must be terrified of him.
Raven wanted to know exactly what was going on. He could not have the boyish vampire slayer catch him. Using his powers, he entered the young man’s mind. There was nothing here. It was an animal that broke a branch. You found nothing. Now return to her.