It was all the warning she had before he entered her, pulling a gasp from her lips. Her back arched as she clutched at his shoulders. He slid all the way inside with such delicious friction that they both shuddered. Then he stilled, allowing her to adjust. But she didn’t want gentleness. She rolled her hips, pulling him closer with her feet, and he responded, drawing back before pushing into her again.
Cally threaded her fingers into his hair, pulling his mouth down to hers, kissing him fiercely. She whimpered as he thrust again, drawing back with graceful control then driving into her welcoming body. Over and over… she realized she’d breathed the words into his mouth.
“Yes,mon amour. Tonight and every night.”
Her pleasure began to build again, her body so attuned by his touch, and it felt like they were merging, physically matching the supernatural bondthey already had.
“Body and soul,” she whispered between kisses, and his response was a guttural sound, a growl of approval.
He collected her hands, pinning them to the sheet, and his head tilted to the side, lips nipping at the sensitive curve of her neck.
“Yes,” she breathed. “Just there.”
The sting of his fangs was exquisite, and the rush of pleasure that followed drove her into a release so powerful her vision fractured, light exploding behind clenched eyelids. It went on and on, each pull of her blood causing her body to clench around him even as he thrust into her.
“Harder,” she gasped, and it was all she could do to get the word out. A throaty, animalistic sound escaped him, vibrating against her skin, and he responded at once, surging into her with fierce urgency.
She clutched him desperately, using him as her tether, certain she would be lost in the storm of ecstasy if she didn’t. Wave after wave, she rode the peak of her pleasure, and then, at last, he tensed over her, swelled inside her, and erupted in his own release, flooding her with heat.
Tears slipped from her eyes, squeezed out through tightly clenched lids. Her heart raced, her body alive in a way she could never have imagined.
She wrapped her arms and legs around him, unwilling to let him pull away, even as his body gradually unwound, relaxing over hers, his breath soft against her skin. He licked softly at her neck, soothing the bite he’d left as if it were something sacred.
She slid her hand into his hair, holding him to her, and her head rolled to the side as she offered herself. It wasn’t just about feeding, it was affirmation.
He kissed her neck beneath her ear and breathed, “Je t’aime.”
Her heart swelled, for she knew what that meant, too.
Forty-eight – Antoine
He heard Marcel’s footsteps before the tentative knock on the door.
“Sir? My most sincere apologies, but the matter is urgent.”
Cally slept, one arm and one leg flung over him, her breathing soft and steady. He brushed a loose curl from her cheek and carefully extricated himself, pulling on a robe before opening the door.
Marcel took a pace back, giving him room to step into the hallway.
“What is it?” Antoine asked quietly.
“A summons, sir.” Marcel raised the vellum envelope, the wax seal unbroken.
Antoine took it, his lips pressing thin, and slit the seal with his thumb. “How do you know it’s a summons?”
“Two vampires wait below, sir.”
Antoine skimmed the contents. The missive was terse—come at once.It was signed not by any individual, but simply,The Curia.
He cursed. “Very well. I’ll dress and come down.”
“Very good, sir.”
Antoine re-entered the bedroom, pausing to watch Cally as she slept. The duvet lay draped across her hips, most of her naked back visible, smooth and elegant and perfect. It was tempting to wake her, just to see her smile, but there was no need. He’d be back before morning—the Curia would sleep then too. The thought of slipping back into bed beside her would give him something to look forward to while he endured whatever new decree they wanted to make.
Padding silently into the walk-in wardrobe, he dressed swiftly: jeans, a T-shirt, a replacement leather coat for the one left in ribbons on Minh’s study floor, and a dry pair of boots. He smelled of sex—of Cally—and his lips twitched as he deliberatelydidn’tbother to shower. So what if they could all scent it? Let them.
With a final look, he eased the door shut behind him.