Page 68 of Fated to the Vampire Prince
My cock was heavy with need, straining against her as I steered us slowly across the room toward her bed. Every step pressed her tighter to me, her body molded against mine. I was consumed with the need to please her. To give her exactly what she wanted.
And the closer I got, the less everything else seemed to matter. When the back of her knees hit the bed, I lifted her up and tossed her on the mattress. Her tits bouncing as shelanded on the quilt. “Tell me you didn’t mean what you said. Tell me the thought of me between your legs disgusts you.”
One easy motion and the buttons on my trousers were undone; my aching cock sprang free, the tip already slick with need. Claire propped herself up on her elbows, legs spread, unable to tear her eyes away from my hard length as I gripped it and stroked it up and down. I tried to restrain myself before I did something foolish.“Dammit, Claire! Tell me to stop.”
She wetted her lower lip. “No.”
I had to bite my lip to keep a groan from slipping out. Working my length up and down, I tried to make the want, the need, go away. If I just finished, then it wouldn’t be so hard to be around her.
Claire rose up onto her knees. All her silver lilac hair flowing loose down her shoulders. Cheeks pink with a pretty flush. “Do you want me to lie?”
Why would she put that idea in my head? Just tell me the lie and push me away. But she didn’t. No. Instead, her warm hands eased down my chest, tracing scars. Her lips only inches away from mine. Her scent intoxicating as it surrounded me. She set a hand on top of mine, squeezing me. I groaned, my head falling forward against her shoulder.
“Lie to me if that’s what it takes,” I begged as we both slid our hands up and down my cock. Squeezing at the top. Pausing every time. The pad of her thumb rubbing over my slickness.
With her lips brushing my ear, Claire whispered, “Go, Bastien. Leave.”
The sound of her low voice and the gentle sigh of her breath had every one of my nerves screaming her name. I was a dying man, pleading for the mercy of a quick death, but only getting a cup of water. I lifted my head, needing to see her. Needing to see if she wanted to stop, but the look of pure ecstasy on her face undid me. Slowly, I tangledmy fingers in her silky hair, grasping the strands and tilting her head back—exposing her throat to me.
“Tell me you hate me,” I rasped, gazing into the depths of her eyes. “Say it.”
“I hate you.”
The admission was breathy. Her chest rising and falling in heaving gasps that told me she didn’t hate me or what I was doing. No, not at all. She was enthralled by me. By the attention I was lavishing on her.
By the feel of my cock in her hand.
I leaned forward, pressing my lips against her throat, kissing her deeply. Sucking when she gasped as another bolt of pleasure tore through me. If she kept going, I was going to come all over her pretty stomach and ruin the black lace.
Each kiss had her squirming for me. Trying to get closer, to move my cock closer to her sweet center, but by some miracle, I held her hair fast in my grip, not allowing her to get that close. “Say it like youmeanit,” I said in a commanding voice as my mouth wandered down to her cleavage
“I hate—” The words broke on a shuddering cry of pleasure as I licked one nipple into my mouth. I sucked on her, letting my tongue toy with the hard little peak. Flicking it back and forth in my mouth until she cried out, then giving the other the same attention. Drawing her into my mouth again.
“What was that?” I prompted her. “Be a good girl and tell me what you hate, my little moonflower.”
She grabbed my wrist and moved my hand off my cock, taking over with both of hers. I growled like the beast I was. “I hate when you touch me,” she said.
I released her hair and leaned forward, guiding her backward to the mattress. Caging her hips with my knees. All the while, she held onto my cock like it might save her life. Working me up and down until I was so close. I grabbed herwrist, stilling her. Not wanting to finish just yet. There was no going back for me, now. Not unless she told me to stop. No matter how bad of an idea this was for everything and everyone around me, she was a cosmic force. Gravity. The sun. The moon. Pulling me in.
My kisses floated down, down,down. Past her belly button. Not stopping until I reached the hem of her undergarments.
“I hate the way you feed from me,” Claire whispered, without a drop of anger. “Hate the way you drink from my thigh.”
“It doesn’t sound like you hate it,” I said, covering the damp heat of her sex with my mouth, and reveling in the taste of her through the thin material.
She moaned louder. “Please.Bastien. Please.”
“Convince me, Claire.” I ran the flat of my tongue over the lace, dragging it back and forth before carefully sliding the damp fabric aside.
“Hate—” was all she could say before it tapered into a moan. She twisted in the sheets. Her thighs snapping around my neck. I pressed them open again and held them down. Licking her, tasting her. “Oh, Bastien!” she cried.
“Will you let the man you hate make you come?”
Her chest rose and fell. Her hips rocked forward. “Please. Please, Bastien! Don’t stop.”
I’d been between her legs dozens of times, it had never been to tastethis. The forbidden sweetness of her.
Mine. Mine. Mine.She wasmine.
