She tasted nothing like the blood sources his captors had brought him. And more important, tasting her blood didn’t have him thinking about her “mere” humanity or how she was meant to service and feed him. Rather, it had him thinking that there might be more of his humanity left inside him than he’d believed. And that maybe she was the one who could make sure that didn’t change.
He shook his head, automatically rejecting any notion that Ana could somehow save him. Right now, being saved wasn’t what he wanted anyway. Her body, the pleasure she was bringing him? That was a different story.
To get his mind back on track, he stripped Ana and himself, then carried her to a bed. He covered her body so his face hovered just above hers.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered. She was drenched between her thighs and he wanted to go down on her. Wanted to suck her blood and taste her pussy juice until he was drowning in each one. He wanted to make her come. But first …
He looked up at her, silently asking for permission.
With a beautiful blush, she nodded, leaned back, and spread her legs even further.
He buried his face in her core.
She gasped when he licked at her moist slit, flattening his tongue to get at all the best parts. She groaned when he sucked on her clit, humming against the hardened pearl to increase her pleasure. She screamed when he penetrated her with one finger, hooking it until he found that spongy patch of nerves she probably didn’t even know existed.
And she came when he added another finger to the mix.
He didn’t let up, though. Instead, he continued to play with her, prolonging her release until she was pulling at his hair and begging him to stop. He growled, not wanting to obey, but he finally raised his head. That’s when he felt his fangs unsheathe.
Her eyes widened with fear.
“No,” he said. “Don’t be afraid. This is me, just wanting you.”
For a moment, she remained silent, then said, “You want my blood?”
“I want all of you,” he answered the only way he could. Honestly.
To his shock, she opened her arms wide and said, “Then take it. Take me now.” She arched her back and offered her throat to him. Part of him wondered if this was some kind of trick.
So be it.
In a second, he was on her, his fangs piercing the delicate skin at her throat, taking everything that she’d offered him. Her body tensed, not with pain or fear but because she was about to find release again, and this time, before she could, he plunged his aching cock inside her. He thrust. He hammered. He let the animal take control of him as he took her blood. It felt so good to be with her. In her. It felt unreal.
Somewhere, an engine backfired and someone shouted. The sounds pulled him out of his daydream with stunning brutality.
His eyes popped open.
That’s when he realized none of it had been real.
He was standing in his flat, with the image of Ana on the surveillance monitor in front of him. She was still touching herself, still writhing as she struggled to find the release he so badly wanted to give her. In that moment, it didn’t matter what was real and what wasn’t. She was caught in the manacles of pleasure, the same pleasure that had taken hold of him. He squeezed his cock tighter and felt the tingling at the base of his spine as his orgasm came barreling down on him. His balls tightened. The tension within him gathered and grew until every minuscule space within him was filled by his desire for her.
Oh, Jesus, he thought. It’s never been this good. I’m going to die from the pleasure.
In her bedroom, Ana moaned again, longer and louder than ever.
Only she didn’t just moan.
She moaned his name.
And when she did, he shouted, coming in violent spasms while she did the same.
CHAPTER
NINE
Ana’s orgasm jolted her out of her dream so suddenly she could still hear the faint echo of her cries around her. Chest heaving with her effort to catch her breath, she desperately tried to ground herself in reality. Instead, all her mind could do was play back images in shocking detail.
Had she really just dreamed about sex with Ty? More important, had she dreamed about him having fangs and drinking her blood and making her come so hard as a result that she’d just about blacked out? She wasn’t into weird, kinky fantasies like that. She didn’t even like sex. And she’d never liked reading books or watching movies or, hell, even talking about vampires. Lord knew Bobbie Hernandez was fascinated enough with the subject, always bringing it up when he visited the coffee shop.
Maybe it was just her mind’s way of warning her that Ty was dangerous. That he was going to use her. Take from her. But deep inside she didn’t believe that. No, she’d been thinking of Ty last night. Thinking of joining Belladonna and him falling in love with her. More likely the dream was just her mind’s way of telling her to stay real. To trust him, but not too much. Not that much.
Ten minutes later, still reeling from the entire experience—the inescapable knowledge that her body could actually find pleasure through a sexual connection, let alone one that involved the exchange of blood—she could still do nothing but lie there and stare at the ceiling. Eventually, she realized the sheet beneath her was drenched with sweat and clinging to her skin.
Wincing, she forced herself to her feet, stripped the bed, and tossed the linens into the washing machine. Then she took a shower, occasionally bracing a palm against the tiled wall because her knees trembled. As she washed, she was alternately hesitant to touch herself and tempted to linger at those special places that still tingled with the memory of Ty’s attention.
Why? What in the world had made her dream about Ty? Not the real Ty she’d sparred with, but one far more relaxed. Sensual. Sexual. More important, why had dreaming about him gotten her off so fast and so hard? Why did she want to close her eyes and fall asleep so she could dream of him once more? So she could come again. Why did the thought of never feeling his cock or his imaginary fangs inside her leave her with a feeling of utter despair?
Finally, she was pissed off enough by her continuing desire for him that she wrenched the temperature of the shower to cold. The blast of freezing water on her skin made her jump and screech, but she gritted her teeth and forced herself to stay where she was. Only after she was sufficiently cooled down and the last vestiges of her arousal vanished did she turn off the water, towel dry, and get dressed.
Her physical languor had worn off. So had her mental cloudiness.
She wouldn’t be able to go into work and pretend nothing had happened. The memory of Ty’s visit and the memory of her dream wouldn’t leave her alone. As much as she wanted to hide from both, she couldn’t.
She booted up her computer and proceeded to run several searches for Gloria. She used every search term she could think of, but like always, she came up empty. For some reason, her failure to find any trace of Gloria this time didn’t leave her sad as much as angry.
It was just weird to think about how Gloria had totally abandoned her. Ana had been willing to let the gang beat her up, for God’s sake, just to give Gloria a fresh start in life.
Despite her determination to see her sister again and convince her how wrong she’d been to abandon her, Ana always circled back to the cold, hard truth. Her sister must not give a damn. So why did she continue to bother?