As his climax neared she opened her eyes and looked at him, panting softly. He knew what she was waiting for but he couldn’t help but tease her, curious to know how she reacted when he talked dirty.
“Do you want to know exactly what that tight little pussy of yours does to me? Do you want to know what it feels like when I come?”
“Yes.” She met his thrusts, driving her hips up as he plunged down.
“Then tell me. I want to hear it. As you’re probably aware, I enjoy talking dirty and appreciate when it’s reciprocated.”
She did as he asked without a second’s pause. “I want to feel you come.”
“How does my cock feel inside of you? Does it feel good?”
“You know it does,” she groaned. “God, you know.”
“You’re right, I do.” He ran his tongue along her collarbone. “But I want you to tell me. I want to hear you say it. How does it feel?”
“Hard, long and thick, filling and stretching me so that I can’t feel anything else but you, inside and out.” She flexed her ass and gyrated against him. “Please. I want to feel what it’s like when you come deep inside me.”
“Whatever you want, baby.”
He increased the pace and pounded into her, faster and then faster, and roared as he achieved release. Arching his back, he stared at the ceiling as wave after wave of semen jetted from his cock and bathed her womb, dimly aware that her own cries were drowning him out. Her pussy began milking him, the tight, velvety walls clenching like a fist before releasing, and he realized she was caught in the throes of another orgasm. The delicious heat spreading throughout her body extended his own climax, so his cock continued jerking even when there was no seed to spend. Combined with her feelings, it was the ultimate pinnacle of sex, so fucking good his eyes crossed and his entire body felt the impact.
Taking care to keep his weight off her body, he blanketed her with his torso as the final shudders passed, the beads of perspiration on his chest merging with hers as their sweat-slicked skin touched. Both of them were struggling for breath, their frantic, racing heartbeats in sync. Their thoughts were hazy but the relief and satiation was perfect, so damn good he never wanted to leave her side or their bed.
“Amazing,” she managed to huff, breathing hard.
As he pressed his lips into the sweaty curve of her neck, he smiled. The afterglow of sex wasn’t something he used to enjoy but now, sensing the obvious adoration and affection radiating from his mate, he was certain that was about to change. When she wrapped her arms around his waist and held him tight he knew there was one more thing he could do to make her happy.
For humans it was too soon. For shifters it could literally occur overnight.
“I love you, Ava mine.”
He didn’t realize just how much he wanted to hear the endearment in return—hadn’t thought that it really mattered—until she sighed into his chest, hugged him tighter and whispered back, “I love you too.”
Sadie Dumus stood across the street from Dougan’s Bar with her back resting against the glass wall of the Presto Laundromat that proudly touted its convenient twenty-four hour, round-the-clock customer service. A few shifters lingered on the sidewalks but they couldn’t see her, passing by without so much as a curious notice.
Although it sapped her strength like a son of a bitch, veiling was a nifty talent she was glad she’d inherited. It was a rare gift among vampires, gained only by those with a mage in their lineage who were born—or chose—to grace the lighter side of the vampiric family spectrum.
Which, thank the stars, her father had been. Otherwise she’d be in the kind of trouble no magic could protect her from.
The fear that surfaced from the thought settled like dead weight in her gut, causing the liquid meal from a few hours previous to roll and churn in her stomach. Fighting the rising nausea, she quickly got a grip and took a deep, calming breath.
Goddess, she shouldn’t have come here. The last time she’d come sniffing around Trey Veznor she’d nearly done herself in.
She trembled at the memory.
She’d almost revealed her presence in Central Park the night Trey and his crazed brother had faced off, unable to stand aside when she saw him stumble to his knee as she phased to his side. If it hadn’t been for the violent brawl, the heat of the battle with Emory and the blood lust, Trey could have seen her, glimpsed past her magic and understood the attraction that drew her to him like a moth to a flame.
Like a moth to a flame, she thought bitterly. Sizzle and combust.
Closing her eyes, she recalled the fated night that had occurred just weeks after she’d arrived in her new home in New York. What was supposed to be an important mission for the coven had become something else, and one chance encounter at Liminality was all it had taken to raise the stakes.
She’d felt the same pull Trey had the moment their eyes met from across the cloudy floor of the club, the air laden with tendrils of swirling cigarette smoke. It wasn’t often that a shifter and blood drinker mated, and there was a good fucking reason—with starvation or a slow, agonizing death being one of outcomes. That was why vampires refused to consider it and ran at the first sign of a connection.
Still, as he’d studied her that night, she’d taken him in as well. He was tall, lean and muscular, with an extremely masculine countenance. He’d been dressed entirely in black, the long leather trench coat concealing what she was certain was an arsenal of weapons.
Three words had come to mind: Sexy, mysterious, powerful.
After a moment he’d stood and started making his way over. He’d moved like the predator he was, all muscles, intent and determination. His shoulders had shifted as he prowled, strides smooth and graceful.
When he’d stood within a few feet of her she’d gotten hold of herself, did the only thing she could and phased just before he made it to her table. He hadn’t known that she hadn’t left the club but changed locations, able to view him as he’d seen her disappear and comprehended what she was. A strange expression had crossed his face, but before she’d been able deconstruct it the look had quickly been replaced with revulsion.
While her heart had wilted at his cold response, she’d forced herself to accept and understand that while rejection was a cruel bitch that carried a harsh sting, it was to be expected.
Although she wasn’t cold-blooded as folklore depicted, or without a heartbeat, she was unable to walk in the sun for long stretches of time or sustain herself on food alone. Calories, while delectable, didn’t provide the sustenance her kind required. It was all about the red stuff, the source of all life. Plain, simple and rich—when you needed a boost, blood couldn’t be beaten.
To a shifter, drinking blood was repulsive. Because of that they considered vampires a scourge on the city, bottom feeders as it were. Not that their tendency to hunt live prey and devour it raw was all that appetizing to her or her kind.
Give it a rest.
Shifting her weight, she studied the bar, knowing she shouldn’t have come but once again discovering she was unable to leave. She had her own responsibilities and obligations, which didn’t include her pairing with anyone of her choice in the near future, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. Trey was the ultimate poison, the one she could never have, and for some reason, even knowing that, she was captivated by the man.
Several of the pride Alphas exited the building with their seconds-in-command, bringing her to full attention. She watched as they walked to their expensive Jaguars and limousines and suddenly had the urge to phase closer to ruin the shiny paint with a nice scrape of her nails as they drove by.