Page 155 of Vampire so Virtuous
What the hell was I thinking?
“On second thoughts, if you don’t think—”
“It is up to you,ma chérie.” He spoke calmly, like he was soothing a wild animal. “Though your reasoning has merit. It would indeed be better for both of us if we… did what was necessary.”
What was necessary.
“Only what’s necessary,” she echoed firmly.
“Bien sûr, ma chérie.”
“What?”
“Of course.”
She still hesitated, but he made no move to rush her and said nothingmore. The silence grew awkward as the seconds passed, and in the end, it was almost easier to move than to let it stretch.
She sat down carefully, checking her robe was tight around her, then lay down stiffly, not touching him.Like a maiden on her first night—except it wasn’t their first at all.
“Would you mind turning on your side?” he asked softly. “It’s more convenient to reach your neck.”
Again, he didn’t hurry her, but she’d come this far. He hadn’t specified which side, and she found herself paralyzed by the choice—unsure whether to obey, or what it even meant to do so. She rolled away from him, and in some respects, that made it easier. She didn’t have to look at him, to see his intense, hungry gaze, his dimples, or his toned body.
No, she had to feel it, instead.
He pressed close, firm and hard at her back, and gently stroked her hair away from the side of her neck. His breath was light and warm across her skin. “Thank you,ma chérie.”
She didn’t try to reply; she couldn’t think of anything to say.
His lips brushed against her ear, trailing down across her skin, and she heard him breathe in again, long and deep. “You smell divine,” he murmured. Then his mouth was at her neck, and his fangs sank into her.
She gasped at the pain, even knowing it would come. But as each time before, it faded swiftly in a rush of heady pleasure. His arm slipped around her waist, pulling her back against him as he fed. He took a long, slow pull, that foreign but strangely familiar feeling of her blood racing through her body, and her gasps became a moan as she lost herself in the sensations.
He was right; it was easier on the bed. She didn’t have to fight to stand up; she could relax into it. Her body tightened as he drew another mouthful. She could feel him swallowing against her, and it didn’t even hurt. Instead, liquid heat began to build, her moan becoming a whimper she couldn’t restrain, and she pushed herself back into him. His arm tightened around her, holding her as he drank, but now his body was pressed against hers from the top of her shoulders down to her butt. Warm and hard and soft at the same time, her robe too thin to cushion the feel of him.
He was hard, too; his jeans doing little to restrain his arousal. Her body reacted against her will, pressing against him—against the pleasure, against the need to feel more. She didn’t want this… but she did. She couldn’t help but rub her ass against him, fighting to control herself before he noticed her movements, but the pleasure building inside her wanted release.
Again, she moaned, and this time he echoed her, a sound of contentmentand enjoyment and satisfaction, like there was nothing more he could ever need. But she needed more, and as he pulled again, she arched her back, pressing her head into the pillow, angling her neck for him in offering. Just a little more, for the pleasure to build just a little further, and take her over the edge.
He licked across her neck. “Sodélicieuse. So potent. So very beautiful…”
Cally drew in a shuddering breath, the pleasure receding without the release she’d craved, her body gradually easing as her muscles relaxed, but her heart still pounded in her chest.
He was heavy against her, his arm still draped over her waist, though no longer pulling her back into him.
“Antoine?”
No answer.
“Antoine!”
She twisted to look back at him, and he was lying perfectly still, face serene, eyes closed, breathing gently.
“Antoine?”
She prodded his chest with one finger. No response.
She sighed.
