Gliding his palms over the lace, he massaged her breasts slowly, reacquainting himself with their shape and their weight. She’d become so lean in the five decades since he’d last held her in his arms. Where she had once been always curvy and delicious, she seemed somehow more defined. There was nothing spare—not even in the subtle roundness of her breasts or the sweep of her tight ass. Her hips rolled, and she rubbed her barely clad sex against his erection.
He grumbled when she pushed his shirt wide and he let go of her breasts to jerk the material out of his way. Sitting up, he wrapped his arms around her and captured her mouth for another hungry kiss. She laid her hands on his chest, and his muscles jumped at the contact. He’d dreamed of this moment for fifty years, waking aroused and eager for her touch, her kiss—her embrace. He’d controlled himself every day, containing all that dangerous passion behind the fury and loss at her abandonment.
The sweet muskiness of her arousal tortured the thin, frayed edges of his control. She sucked on his lower lip, dragging it out until a small drop of blood welled up and she lapped at it like a kitten. His breath caught. His hips flexed and he rubbed himself up against the promised heat. She gasped and moved against him, her eyes widened. Every rub of her panty-clad sex against the bulge of his dick teased her. The bra snapped under his fingers, and he stripped it away, baring her breasts.
Gliding a hand along her back, he lifted her up and bent his head to capture the nipple, sucking it between his teeth, careful to not graze her skin. It pebbled and hardened under the thrum of his tongue. In response, she dug her nails into his scalp, little daggers of pain. He bit her, lightly enough to avoid damaging her skin, but hard enough to remind her to loosen her grip.
Her fingers relaxed, and he flipped her over. The lace panties were scraps with one hard tug. In his dreams, he tumbled her over, ripping her clothes off and driving his cock into the tight clasp of her sex, thrusting until all she could feel was him. He’d imagined her shallow breaths driving him deeper until she shuddered with release.
So many years of aching to have her back in his arms—to feel her move with him, to drown in her passion. He skimmed his fingers up the inside of her thigh, prolonging his torture until he slid a finger along the seam of her sex.
She was soaking wet.
For him.
Need punctured rational thought. He wanted to awaken her memories, to bring back his bride, to see the recognition flame in her eyes as she held him—but the naked desire sparkling in them and the sweet heat of her body responding to him was his undoing.
He surged up and slanted his mouth over hers, crushing their lips together. She tasted so sweet and utterly feminine. Intoxicated by her scent, her reactions and her touch, he let go of anything beyond that moment. Her stiff nipples poked at his chest. He touched her everywhere. His hands glided over her sides, her breasts, her hips, her back and down to her ass. She wrapped her legs around his hips, and he ground his erection against her cleft.
His control warned him this was a mistake. But was he really taking advantage? She felt so good—so right—in his arms.
“I want you,” she growled against his mouth, demanding and impatient. Her nails scored down his back, and she tugged at his pants. “I want you inside me…”
The word fueled the fire burning through his blood, igniting every nerve. Arousal punched him, and he skimmed a hand down to glide a finger against her slick sex, pressing in against the tight walls that clasped his fingers. She rode his finger, gasping when he added a second. Her fingers fumbled with his belt, and he growled, jerking back to rip the pants open and slip them off.
She tried to follow him, but he caught her and tossed her back down, holding her with one arm, while he dipped his head down to follow the trail of his fingers. Her moans were music to his ears as he nuzzled his way to her clit, sucking it against his teeth. She cried out, and her thighs clasped at his head. He soothed her legs wider and, lapping at the damp desire pouring from her, eased another finger into her.
Wanton desire clouded his vision. He drove her ruthlessly to the edge, withdrawing his fingers and tongue only when he sensed her on the precipice. Her scream of frustration echoed in his ears, and he began the slow assault all over again.
She writhed, twisted and rolled onto her side. He shifted to follow her sex, spearing his tongue against the hot, velvety walls that tried to clamp down on his invasion. He didn’t realize why she adjusted her position until her mouth closed over him, her lips crowning the head of his cock. He shuddered and gasped, losing the thread of his rhythm as she worked her magic. She sucked hard and fast, her teeth grazing him adding the lightest amount of pain to spark the pleasure. Her tongue swirled around him, and he could barely kiss the inside of her thighs, mouth opening to bite down on the tender flesh.
Enough.
He threaded his fingers into her hair and urged her back. She looked up at him, eyes slit with passion. He climbed up the length of her, until they were face-to-face and nestled himself into the cradle of her body, her nipples peaked and tight, flushed with need. Her hand wrapped around his cock and guided him to her entrance. He pressed in slowly, savoring every stretch of her wet folds.
The tight clasp of her inner muscles threatened pure madness. He wanted to be inside—all the way, one hard push—but the pleasure on her face told him to take his time. A low whimper escaped her throat as he finally settled deep inside of her. So hot. So tight.
They fell into a rhythm, rocking together. He wanted to stay like this forever. Their lips collided in a series of nipping, licking kisses. Her hands were everywhere, digging into his shoulders, stroking his back, and when she clasped his ass, he didn’t know how much longer he could last.
He wanted to see her pleasure—needed to see it—ripple over her face. He wanted to savor her bliss before taking his own. He worked a hand between them, flicking his fingers against her clit. She shivered and jerked, her hips almost losing their rhythm. He rocked into her. Hooking one of her legs over his arm, he scented and felt her release as her inner muscles clamped down on him.
She came with a scream, and he growled in savage satisfaction. Dropping his head to her throat, he sank his teeth into her skin and ecstasy tore through him. He thrust once, twice more, and his body clenched. His release flooded out of him as her blood filled his mouth. His soul sang with joy and he collapsed against her, even as his mind winked out.
Chapter Three
Kiki emerged from the shroud of bliss slowly. The events of the last couple of hours rushed in, echoing through the pleasant soreness tingling throughout her body. Richard’s weight pressed her into the bed. He slept on his stomach, his face buried in the pillows. At some point, he must have dragged the covers over them. She didn’t remember. Sliding out from under his arm, she slipped off the bed and looked around the opulent bedroom for her clothes. Her panties were in tatters, so she dropped them into the trash.
Her bra wasn’t in much better shape. She held up the frayed lace and grinned. The vampire had turned out to be an absolute beast in the bed. Dropping the bra after the panties, she shimmied into the dress and tiptoed into the bathroom. Turning on the water, she splashed her face and inspected her appearance in the mirror. Her lips were swollen and red from his kisses. Two faint puncture marks marred her throat.
Thrill skated up from her belly. A real vampire. She’d had sex with a real vampire, and he bit her. She just might swoon. She ran her fingers through her tousled hair and grinned. The romp definitely took the edge off her restlessness. Now she could concentrate on Heidi’s “you’re dancing lead” news. Regret fluttering in her belly, she padded back into the bedroom and stared at the sleeping vampire with his thick shock of black hair, square jaw and absolutely delicious body.