“What?” she asked, breathless.
“You are so beautiful... It’s stunning.”
She was sure even in the darkened room he could see her blush. Christine’s heart expanded in her chest until she was afraid it might burst with all the love she felt for him. Unable to contain it, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. The kiss was long and slow, more passionate than any kiss she’d ever experienced with any man, even with him.
But her blossoming love for him couldn’t be contained so she pulled away, fisting a thick chunk of his long hair. She closed her eyes, pressed her sweaty forehead against his, and then pulled back slowly, staring him in his beautiful eyes.
“I love you, Dmetri.” She pressed a soft kiss to his lips, then another. “I love you.” More kisses, kisses that came from her heart and soul, each one longer than the next, harder, sweeter.
“Please love me,” she said softly.
Suddenly his arms banded around her waist, pressing her hard into his chest. His tongue thrust into her mouth, mating, possessing. She hadn’t realized she’d been searching for a response until she got it, and it was perfect.
His hands roughly pushed her skirt up to her waist, and then he grabbed her hips with strong hands. Christine moaned around his tongue, thrusting hers back against his.
Strong hands guided her over his cock, poised stiff and swollen between them. He entered her as if he had all the time in the world, slowly spreading her, filling her until finally he hit some part inside of her. Christine tore her mouth away to breathe at the sensations ricocheting inside her body. She couldn’t sit still, not with him filling her so deeply. She rocked and trembled, hands rubbing over his shoulders, neck, then finally fisting his hair.
“I told you you’re mine, Christine. Look at me.” His harsh words broke through her hazy mind like a hammer. She turned, met his gaze straight on.
“You really want that, vampire?” she asked in a soft voice.
His answer was to lift her off him, then slam back inside. Again. And again. The pleasure was too intense, her body wanted to melt to the floor in a puddle, but somehow she managed to keep her eyes open to watch him. His cheeks were dark with color, eyes low-lidded and dark, lips wet. He was the sexiest man she’d ever seen. And he was hers. She knew it in every ounce of her soul. She could have laughed in that moment, screamed with joy. But he tightened his grip on her hips to steady her, and started thrusting.
The thrusts were just like him—hard and unforgiving. He pumped into her, sucked a nipple into his mouth, and suckled. The two pleasures, between her legs, from her breast, were too much...too sharp. She struggled to get away from it, hips wiggling as he pumped and pumped.
“Oh God!”
It was useless. With one hard pull at her nipple, he sent her flying apart by the seams.
Shaking so hard, sounds faded except his harsh breathing and grunts as he worked himself inside her slick channel. Her sex gripped him, milking, clinging around him in rippling waves, trying to pull forth something from him he wasn’t ready to give.
He slowed his thrusts to her fading release. He pumped lazily but hard. His hands finally released her to trail over her bare shoulders, her naked back, to cup her ass. His grip tightened on her bottom, and then he lifted her off him.
Christine stared at him in confusion. “What? I want you to finish.” He stood, kicking the last of his clothes away like he couldn’t get rid of it fast enough. He grabbed her and followed her down to the sofa. She sunk into the soft cushions.
“Oh I will, millaya moya. ”
Anything he’d have asked her, she’d have done. And this was hardly a chore for her—she burned for him. Her knees caught his hips, hands delved eagerly down his sinewy back. The groan she elicited from him made her smile like a fool.
His lips caught hers. His hand trailed down her hip to her thigh, and then he caught her leg and pushed it up onto his shoulders. Christine gasped into his mouth as her ankle rested on his shoulder, baring her open to him.
He looked down at her body with hungry eyes. “I want to lick you everywhere.” She sucked in her breath, then released it in a fast stream as he thrust back in. He didn’t take her slow now. He leaned down, pressing her knee to her chest and thrust like a man with one thing on his mind—coming.
So good, she thought.
“Fuck yes, it is,” he said.
Christine’s eyes widened as she realized she just said that aloud. Hell if she cared though.
She scratched her nails down his back and dug in as his thrusts grew hard, hitting that spot inside her again and again.
They moved in a rhythm together, hips sliding and withdrawing, giving and taking. Lips caught and stole frantic breaths, as their sweat-slicked bodies grew feverish, rushed. Reaching for something powerful.
Christine felt the moment he was close. His breathing staggered, hips hammered against her, his tongue thrust heavily inside her mouth, filling her over and again. She moaned around it, digging her nails into his back.
“Come for me,” he said against her lips.
She shook her head wildly. “I can’t. It’s too much.”
He laughed the sound choked and deep. Then his hand reached between her legs to rub across her swollen, sensitive bud. All at once, everything tightened inside her. He groaned, and she knew he felt it too. Knew it because he pounded in faster, his heavy sac slapping across her wet flesh. He rubbed her swollen bud fast, faster.
She screamed so loud she was certain everyone in the pack heard it, everyone in a ten-mile radius. Her body didn’t just rise to a peak and fly apart—she exploded. And he toppled right there with her. His pain-filled groan sounded over her screams, and he pushed deep, holding himself there. The jets came, dousing inside. He trembled above her, his expression one of pain then collapsed like a weakling.
Laughing, feeling much lighter than she had in hours, Christine wiggled her leg from being squished between them until she had it wrapped lazily around his thigh.
She felt exhausted like every bone in her body was made of ooze. Before her eyes closed and sleep took her, she whispered fiercely. “I love you, dammit.” He made a sound, somewhere between a grunt and a laugh. “I know,” he said and pressed a kiss to her lips.
Chapter 23
The soft snick of the door opening might not have normally awoken Christine. But the soft noise sounded like a hammer being slammed against concrete to her sleeping ears.
She came awake slowly and squinted around at the dark living room. Dmetri’s heavy weight squished her down into the mattress, and her leg was asleep. Damn, she knew when she’d go to move the sucker would sting like a thousand needles stabbing her. But oh well, it was worth it to sleep in his arms again.
Grunting under his weight, she scooted into a sitting position to look around the living room. She’d thought she heard the door open and close but the door was closed, the room quiet, as it had been. Sighing, she lay back down and wrapped her arm around Dmetri’s back.
She was just about to close her eyes and go back to sleep when a shadow moved. It wasn’t the shadow of trees swaying outside, but a heavy shadow with mass, like a person.
Christine had only a moment for her muscles to tighten, when the shadow came and went, and then she was staring up into a nightmarish face.
“Dmetri!”
Her shout was too little too late. The glint of metal in Claude Phelan’s hand appeared too fast for her to say something, too fast for Dmetri to come awake and stop it. Claude lifted the knife and viciously slammed the dagger down. The blade slammed deep into Dmetri’s back, sending him awake with a roar of pain that left her shaking beneath him.