Page 73 of The Hunted
He pumped his cock, his silver eyes cemented to mine.
I swallowed thickly, hoping the next words out of my mouth were intelligible. “I”—a breath escaped me—“need you inside me.”
It had been way too long since I’d been with a man and felt that fullness with friction I urgently needed. But Sam wasn’t just any man. He was built from stone—formidable, powerful, strong, otherworldly. And I knew that sex with him would not compare to any other lover.
In one smooth move, he lifted me up onto a tall dresser so we were eye to eye. I wanted to ask him why not the bed, but frankly, I didn’t care, and nothing between Sam and me was conventional.
He splayed open my legs, his hungry gaze never wavering from my pussy or maybe my inner thigh. I hadn’t forgotten what he’d told me in that elevator. My pulse blasted out of the room at the thought that he would sink his fangs into that one spot he’d marked.
He pulled me to the edge of the dresser top, his big body wedged in between my legs. Then as if the world had moved at warp speed, Sam dove in, feasting on my body like it was his last meal. He bit one nipple, then the other.
I latched on to his hair as I pressed his face into my tits. “Harder.” The word came out strangled.
He did as I commanded. The painful pleasure was too much yet not enough. I squirmed on the wooden dresser, holding on to his black silky locks, tugging and mashing his head down, raising my hips up, hoping he got the signal that I needed him to sate the throbbing between my legs
Before I took a breath, he yanked me almost off the edge of the dresser, his hands on the lower half of my ass cheeks as he bent down slightly and swiped his tongue over my clit. When he did, I bucked. He sucked. I squirmed, moaned, and begged him. “More. Harder.”
He kept up his assault on my pussy, sucking and sucking and sucking.
I threw my head back, stuck out my chest, opened my legs wider, and just when I was about to crest over that blissful edge, he stopped.
I righted my head, my eyes wide.
In a flash, he tossed me on the bed, crawled up my body, and kissed me like a man possessed. We rolled around—him on top, me on top, hands everywhere, tongues tangoing, bodies sweating.
I pressed a hand into his chest and grabbed his cock with my other. I positioned it at my entrance, ready to ride him hard and fast, when he flipped us.
I squealed as he leaned down and licked that sensitive spot behind my ear. “Your scent is driving me mad, and if I don’t taste a drop of your blood, I swear I will die.”
The word “die” should’ve thrilled me. After all, I was a vampire hunter. Yet at that moment, I would bawl my eyes out if Sam died. Crazy shit right there.
My pulse was erratic, my body on fire, and my mind at ease with the thought of him sinking his fangs into me. For some weird reason, I trusted he wouldn’t drain me.
“Then taste me, Sam.”
He grinned against my neck. “Are you sure?” His voice was husky and sexy and held so much pain.
“Bite me then fuck me. If you don’t, I will kill you.”
He laughed hard as he jumped into action, and once again he pressed his face between my legs.
I barely took a breath before he bit, quick and fast.
I screamed, arching my back as the instant sting of his canines sank into my inner thigh. Then pleasure seeped in as he sucked my life force into him. If I felt Sam before, it was nothing like I was feeling him now. Every emotion coursing through him was in me: happiness, elation, satisfaction—and the list went on.
I clutched the blanket, breathing heavily, giving in to the vampire as he continued to draw life from me.
My eyelids became sleepy, my head dizzy as my belly twisted and knotted. I was ready to close my eyes when the bed dipped, and he was hovering over me. Blood dripped from his fangs as he ran his tongue over one of his canines. “So fucking sweet.”
I gasped once at the sheer sexiness of how he looked—sated and happy. Then I gasped a second time when he thrust his long, thick cock inside me.
“Holy fuck,” dropped from his lips. “So tight and wet.” He grinned like a man who’d won a million dollars. “You’re mine, Layla. I want you to say it.”
I pinched his nipples, rolling my hips in time with his. “No. No one owns me.”
He stopped moving.
I snarled. “Really?”
