A laugh escaped him, dying as she wiggled until his manhood was nestled against the most sensitive part of her womanhood. She felt him hardening against her and savored the sensation.
“So,” she asked, being deliberately provocative, “just how limited are we because of this upcoming rite?”
“Perhaps not as limited as you might think, Schatz.” His voice almost sounded like a huge cat purring. “You’re feeling better.”
“Maybe I’m ready for the ceremony.” Even as she said it, the butterflies resumed flapping in her stomach. It was amazing how nervous about it she was while still wanting it so much.
“Not yet,” he murmured. “Your heat patterns aren’t fully recovered.”
“You see my aura?”
“Only your body heat. It’s not quite the same. I can still detect some coldness in you. But maybe we can do something about that.”
She did like the sound of that.
His mouth sought hers hungrily. He knew her mouth now, knew just how to slip his tongue around hers to draw an eager shiver from her. He learned fast, she thought dimly. Very fast.
And he used what he had learned. His tongue mated with hers, finding delicate nerve endings and taunting them in a parody of union, causing her body to rock against him in time with the rhythm he set. The ache he always awakened in her with such ease blossomed to full force almost instantly.
Then he slipped his cool hands up under her sweater, finding the bare skin of her midriff and stroking it lightly, teasingly, hinting at more delights to come, but withholding them. This time when she put her arms around his shoulders, trying to bring him closer, he didn’t react like a scalded cat. Instead he deepened his kiss, depriving her of breath, encouraging her to madness.
He must have moved with lightning speed, because she felt her breasts spill free of the confinement of her bra. She dragged her head back to gasp for air, then he claimed her mouth again.
He cupped the weight of her breasts, almost as if testing, then began to brush his thumbs over her nipples. Back and forth, in time with his plundering tongue until she felt as if a fiery arc ran from her mouth to her nipples.
She pressed her hips harder against him, needing stronger touches down there, and a jolt went through her as he arched upward, answering her search for one long, exquisite moment.
His mouth left hers and trailed to the shell of her ear, his cool breath whispering against her cheek and then into her ear until new spasms ripped through her. He ran his tongue around the outside of her ear, teasing, then tucked it inside, setting off new sparks.
Her head fell backward so that her breasts arched into his hands. His thumbs continued to play lightly over her aching nipples, building her needs with every touch.
Then, a jolt so strong that she cried out ran through her as he caught her nipples and pinched them, at first gently, then harder.
She became a slave to desire, right then. Pain and pleasure melded so exquisitely they left her helpless. He was teaching her new things about herself and she was loving it.
The hard clenching throb that gripped her between her legs drove her nearly insane. She became raw need. She dampened until she could feel her own wetness, and it just made her hungrier.
And still he tormented her, driving her ever higher up the steep slope of passion, never giving her all that her body demanded. She felt strung like a bow, drawn and ready to release the arrow, but he kept her there, in a torture so divine she never wanted it to end.
Then cool air whispered over her skin, and the next thing she knew, his mouth had clamped to her breast, sucking strongly. A deep groan escaped her, and she released his shoulders, feeling with her hands for any part of him so that she could return at least some of what he was giving her.
But he caught her wrists and stilled her exploration while he continued to lick and suck first one breast and then the other. She felt her breasts grow heavy, her labia engorging until the merest touch, the merest whisper of sensation grew acute.
Just at the instant when she felt she could take no more of this exquisite torture, he released her wrists, seized her hips with his hands and drew her hard against his staff.
That was all it took. A cry left her lips, winging toward the moon as she reached the crest in an orgasm so intense it hurt.
Then slowly, her body still throbbing, she collapsed against him and felt his arms wrap around her, holding her close.
A long time later, she found enough voice and breath to murmur, “That was incredible.”
“It was,” he agreed.
“But you. I didn’t do anything for you.”
“You did, Schatz. I drank from you. Your experience was fully mine.”
Lingering weakness wouldn’t allow her to raise her head to look at him. “Really?”
“Really. It’s one of a vampire’s blessings.”
“Awesome.”
“It is,” he agreed, sounding a little amused. But not entirely amused. There was tension in that tone somewhere, and she’d learned him well enough to hear it.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“We didn’t ruin the ceremony, did we?”
“I wouldn’t have done anything that might do that.”
She believed him and contentedly let her head remain on his shoulder. Well, she believed him about not ruining the ceremony. But she was also good at reading voices, especially when they were concealing something.
Her brain cells felt as if they had scattered to the four corners of the universe, so she waited a few minutes, collecting them, trying to clear the hazy fog of completion out of her overly contented mind.
“Something’s bothering you,” she said. “I could hear it in your voice.”
“Frankly, mein Schatz, I’ve never experienced anything like that before. Not really. The intensity was...breathtaking.”
“It certainly was.” Then a thought struck her. “You’re worried about claiming me.”
“After that, I’d be a fool not to.”
“Should I move? Go away?”
“No,” he said forcefully. “No.”
So she remained, straddling his hips, her head on his shoulder.
“Your warmth feels so good to me,” he murmured. “It’s such a gift you can’t imagine it.”
“Then enjoy it. It must be awful not to feel warm.”
“It’s not awful. I don’t really notice it. It’s not like I lack something. It’s just so pleasurable when I can feel it.”
She tried to imagine but failed. Then her thoughts wandered in a different direction. “Why did you have to become a vampire?”
“I didn’t have to,” he corrected gently. “I was asked to.”
“But why?”
“Near immortality and some impressive powers. Every religion wants to impress its followers, and having a priest who never aged, outlived all the others and could perform some amazing physical feats was useful.”
“But just one?”
“There were several of us at different locations.”
“Are the others still around?”
“I’m one of the last, unless there’s something I don’t know. Sometimes my kind weary of existence. And we do age, albeit slowly. There is, I believe, one older than I, far older, but if she still exists she keeps entirely to herself. Some suspect she may have given rise to the legends of Lilith, but I really don’t know.”
“It would be fascinating to find out.”
“Perhaps. Or perhaps not. With my kind, one must be leery of intruding on territories. We’re terribly territorial.”
“Then how do you and Jude get along?”