“Don’t be nervous. Just let me pleasure you.” She kissed the tip of him then stroked him, rubbing the skin around his cock back and forth. He couldn’t stop the groan that left him. His hand curled around her slender shoulder and if not for her there, he would have fallen and embarrassed the hell out of himself.
“I like the way you feel. So hard and rigid but like soft velvet on the outside. I can’t wait to feel you slide inside me, Henry.” Her tongue wet the tip and then her wet mouth swallowed him.
He nearly lost it right there. His fangs dropped, throbbing. He bit into his bottom lip to ease some of the pressure in his loins. She pulled back and sucked him, her tongue rubbing against him. When she came back down him again, it was pure torture. Her hot, wet mouth sucked him again and again, her hand fisted his cock and pumped him in the slightest of motions.
He had to unclench his hand from her shoulder, too afraid he’d hurt her. She sucked him faster, her eyes closed, soft moans leaving her throat. Henry panted, his chest burning, heart thundering.
She laved her tongue against him and took him deep into her throat until he was hitting it the back of it. “Stop,” he said raggedly. “Please, stop. I can’t. I’m going to—”
Hot liquid boiled in his balls shot up to his cock ready to burst. His legs stiffened, ass clenching, breaths exploding from him. “Nanu, pull away!” She didn’t. Her hands cupped his ass, and she took him as deeply as she could.
He couldn’t stop the hard, hot pulses as he came, couldn’t stop the harsh shout that left his throat. His hips jerked against her mouth and her tongue coaxed every drop of come from him until he was shaking in front of her like a damned leaf. She pulled back, his cock making a wet popping sound as he did. She ran her hands up his body as she stood, the smile of a seductress on her mouth.
“As soon as you’re ready again, I’m ready to feel you inside me, Henry.”
Henry pulled her close and kissed her. Kissed the woman he loved, the woman of his
dreams.
Chapter Twenty-three
Chloe hesitated at the top of the stairs. She saw the barest of light escaping from under Tyrian’s bedroom door and knew he was in there.
As she took a deep, shaky breath, she coached herself. She could do this. She was a Bellum. Strong willed, independent, unafraid of challenges. With that in mind, she turned the doorknob to his room; it didn’t budge. Gritting her teeth, she banged her fist on the door and didn’t stop until she heard footsteps coming.
When the door swung open, Chloe forgot what she was about to say. Tyrian stood there naked, angry, and dripping wet with only a tiny towel wrapped around his lean, hard hips. Chloe licked her lips. She would give up her house in Colorado for the chance to lick all that water up.
His hair was loose and splattered across his scarred cheek and shoulders in a way that her fingers twitched to touch.
“What?” There was no ice in his tone, just anger. Was this progress?
“What do you mean what? Are you honestly surprised I came?” His eyes actually rolled and then he spun away, leaving the door wide open. Doing a mental fist-pump, Chloe let herself inside, closing the door behind her. Tyrian entered the bathroom and she heard him getting back into the shower.
Again, that nervous feeling fluttered inside her like a butterfly trying to get out. She lifted her chin, pulled her shoulders back, and followed him. The shower had a glass door instead of a curtain, which made it the greatest shower on earth for her to watch him. He was magnificent.
Built hard and strong while carrying the marks of battle across his body. He ducked his head under the showerhead and she caught a glimpse of the crow brand across his shoulders. She wanted to trace it with her fingertips, learn its feel.
“Are you going to stand there and watch me or tell me what you came here for?” Chloe smiled, realizing that he was angry. This was progress. It was getting harder for him to control himself around her and keep the icy wall up. Good.
“I’d prefer to do both if you don’t mind.”
His dark eyes cut her a hard look. “Well, I do. Get on with it, Chloe.” The way he said her name still managed to make her shiver.
“I want you to be my Protector in the real way.” His hand slammed into the shower wall and she jumped at the loud bang it made.
Shaking his head he said, “Why ever would you want that? Be realistic, Chloe. I’m a commander, a warlord. I’m not husband material. I won’t rub your feet when they hurt. I don’t want children. I don’t want you.” His words cut hard and deep. Deeper than they probably should have. She heard the utter conviction in his voice and it nearly sent her running from the room.
“You’re wrong. You’ve been those things before and I think you have even more in you now. The pain from you past hasn’t crippled you, though you act as if it has. It’s made you stronger, made you realize how precious life is. If you’d stop looking at things in such a bitter light, you might just learn something, Ty.” He shut the water off and stalked to her, backing her into the door, dripping water over her dress and stocking-clad legs. It completely turned her on.
“You know nothing. You are young and naive as I once was. Life is death and pain.”
Chloe glared at him. “It’s only like that for you because you’ve let it be like that. I am so, so sorry for what happened to your family. I truly am, but it was such a long time ago. I mean do you still love her?”
He drew back as if she’d slapped him. A look flashed across his face. Guilt? Shame?
“No, I never loved Maria like that. It wasn’t the way of things then. I was a vampire of means, being the general of the Atal Warriors made me a status symbol. My marriage was arranged by my father.”
Chloe digested that. She faltered, unsure what to say. He sneered at her, his lips curling downward.
“I couldn’t protect her or my son. Now you wish to take the seat next to me. So then when it happens again, I’ll be left alone to—” he shook his head and left the room. He threw open drawers and started pulling clothes out with violent movements.
“Tyrian, I’m so sorry,” she said, tears blanketing her eyes. “But that was such a long time ago. You won’t be alone because I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here with you.” He pulled a pair of black cargos over his legs.
“Even if I...” he paused, shaking his head sadly. Chloe had had it. Her heart was
threatening to break, her emotions were living on a wire, and she didn’t know if she was about to break down or throw something.
“I mean what is wrong with me? What is so terrible about me that you can’t even try to talk to me? To be with me when what I feel towards you is more...powerful than anything I’ve ever felt before.” He was quiet for so long that she found herself fighting back tears. Shaking her head, she turned to leave. As her hand touched the metal doorknob, he spoke.
“There is nothing wrong with you, Chloe. That is the problem, in fact,” he said in an odd voice. Chloe turned to him, shocked to her core. Looking down he said, “I’ve spent the past thousand years alone and since I’ve met you, you have done nothing but consume my thoughts.
Everywhere I go, whether I’m overseeing my men or strategizing to kill your demon, you are always there.”
“You’re in mine, too,” Chloe said hoarsely. He shook his head slowly.
“The path we are headed in is dangerous. I’ve been there before. I was naive then, so young. I learned the hard way what happens when you let your emotions take over. When you allow someone you care about to stay with you. To let yourself feel.”