Anything. Everything.
Most of the time, sex had always been about what someone else wanted to take from her. On the rarest of occasions, it had been about what she’d been willing to give up. She’d never thought of sex in terms of taking for herself. But now here was Ty, every luscious inch of him, begging her to do just that.
Her fears. Her insecurities. Her questions about what he’d said. They all disappeared as a maelstrom of desire overtook her. For once, she was in charge. For once, she had the power to take what she wanted.
She wanted him. She wanted to take from him.
Anything. Everything.
And she was going to.
Faster than she’d ever thought possible, she stripped them both naked. His gaze devoured her bare flesh, but he kept his hands pinned behind his head, giving her total control.
“Your fangs,” she said suddenly. “You had fangs before.”
He was trembling. Closing his eyes, he swallowed hard. “I don’t have to use them again. I don’t have to drink your blood.”
She remembered the sensations of fear that had overtaken her when he’d drunk from her before. How quickly that fear had been dispelled by fascination, then acquiescence, then mind-boggling pleasure. She shook her head. “I want you to. I want you to drink my blood, but not from my throat.”
His brows crinkled with confusion. “Then where? Where do you want me to drink from you?” he croaked out.
“Anywhere I tell you to,” she said before climbing on top of him, flesh to flesh.
Heart to heart.
Ty moaned with delirious pleasure as Ana pressed her breasts against him, opened her thighs, and, with one soft, feminine hand guiding him, pressed his cock inside her.
He slipped in, her folds instantly closing around the head of his dick. Slick. Tight. A velvet glove that had been warmed by a fire.
Above him, her eyes were tightly closed and her head was thrown back in a paroxysm of agony, but it was pleasure that had her thighs clasping him tighter and her core taking him deeper. Bit by bit, she engulfed him while her fingers gripped his biceps, the bite of her nails a sweet sting that made his gaze lock on her throat in sudden hunger.
She wanted him to bite her again. She’d said so herself. But she hadn’t told him where, and suddenly he was cataloguing all the wonderful possibilities in his mind. Her throat. Her breasts. Her ass. The warm crease of her thigh.
Any and all would be nirvana, but even as his mind spun with the memory of how sweet her blood tasted, the feel of her body fully enveloping his made him groan. He was buried to the hilt inside her. Right now, this was what he wanted. This was enough.
It was everything.
As if she could read his mind, her eyes flew open and she began pumping him inside her, rising and falling, her hips undulating with ever-increasing speed, swirling and circling him like a joystick under her complete command. One made solely for her pleasure. And that was fine with him.
A soft sheen of sweat coated her body, making her skin glisten. He reared up, anxious to have one of her tight berry-red nipples on his tongue. When it filled his mouth, he sucked softly, then harder, and without conscious thought he began pumping his hips up, urging her to greater speed and stronger thrusts, taking control away from her without quite meaning to.
She gave it to him, wrapping her arms around his head and pulling him closer, feeding him more of her breast. Her hitching breaths and soft moans were sweet music to his ears, and, God, it was glorious—the sound of her, the feel of her. The taste. The smell. It surpassed anything he’d ever experienced as a mere human and made him feel like the damn luckiest vampire to ever exist.
She was the best sex he’d ever had.
“Now,” she moaned. “Bite me. Take blood from my breast,” she begged.
At her plea, Ty felt himself swelling inside her. He could feel his balls tightening with his impending release. He was going to come and he wanted to take her with him. Every single way she’d let him, he wanted to take her.
When her orgasm started and he could feel her vaginal muscles fluttering around him, he gave her what she wanted, plunging his fangs into the soft upper globe of her breast. She screamed, the sound rife with skyrocketing pleasure, and the gush of her blood mimicked the gush of his semen as it burst out of him and into her.
Liquid pleasure. Their life’s essence. From her to him and then back again.
Nothing had ever been so wonderful and yet so sad. The intense pleasure and emotions that swirled through him quickly receded and were replaced with the cold, brutal truth.
When his eyes snapped open, he cursed.
She was gone. His arms empty.
Once again, the best moments of his life had been a dream.
And no matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he wanted it, further sleep eluded him, taunting him with everything he could never have.
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
Ana was going to kill Ty. Somehow, she was going to end his miserable life in exchange for all the sadistic hell he’d been putting her through. It had been seven days since she’d arrived at the Belladonna compound and no sooner had she had her first team meeting with Carly than Ty had begun her training. At least, that’s what he maintained he was doing. Only it felt more like torture.
Not that she’d ever cop to that. She’d die before she asked him for mercy.
And based on how she felt at the moment, death wasn’t too far off.
Her recent shower had done little to relieve her sore muscles. She supposed that when one had bruises upon cuts upon sprains, only heavy-duty pharmaceuticals could bring relief, but she wasn’t allowed those. No, she had to make do with ibuprofen because otherwise her senses might be muddled and her reactions slowed. And then what kind of pseudo agent would she be?
What she wouldn’t give right now to have her senses muddled with tequila and fresh lime juice on ice.
With a wince, she pulled on some clean clothes before face-planting herself on her bed. God, it felt so good to lie down. To clear her mind of countersurveillance tactics and proper gun-handling techniques and self-defense moves and body-language clues and all the other shit that Ty had been shoving down her throat.
According to him, when the rest of the team arrived she’d be learning social etiquette. How to walk. How to talk. What to wear. What wine to pair with what food.
Truth be told, she dreaded charm school FBI-style far more than her next training session with Ty.
Truth really be told, she’d enjoyed every brutal minute of her time with Ty and feared the moment their solitude would end. True, their time together had been as far from romantic as one could get. No matter how the air sizzled when they were in the same room, no matter how her skin sparked when they touched, Ty had kept things purely businesslike once her training had begun. But she’d still loved every second of it.
He pushed her, physically and mentally. He pissed her off and sometimes he made her want to cry, although she never did, at least not outside the privacy of her own room. But he also treated her with respect. As someone worthy of being taught. As someone who was going to accomplish great things, like … saving her sister and other innocent women and children from a cult.
And that’s why, even though part of her really, really wanted to kill Ty, she was never late for training and more times than not, fell asleep smiling because she was thinking of him.