Page 19 of Veinblood
Her head tips back, and a smile curves her lips up.
“Seems only fair I kneel for my Vareth’el, since he kneeled before me.” Before I can respond, her mouth finds me.
The first press of her lips drags a sharp breath from me. She moves slowly at first, her tongue circling the tip before taking more of me into her mouth. One hand strokes what doesn’t fit. Her movements are confident and unhurried. The lap of her tongue makes me curse out loud, and she laughs softly, looking up at me from between lashes spiked from the water.
The sight of her watching me watch her, the feel of her taking me deep enough to brush the back of her throat, is almost enough to break my control. Every sound she makes vibrates along my skin. The faint hums, the drag of her lips, the heat of her breath. Her tongue never stops moving—swirling, licking, teasing, threatening my control.
I thread my fingers through her hair, and her eyes lift to meet mine again. The sight nearly unmakes me. Those eyes, shining purely silver now, are fixed on my face as she watches my reaction to the way she pleasures me with such focus.
It stokes the fire already building in my blood. I hold it back, lock it down as best I can, but I know it won’t last.
Not with her.
“Enough.” My voice is harsh. “I want to be inside you.”
She releases me with one final, long lick, then gets to her feet. Our lips meet in a quick kiss, and then she’s turning, pressing her hands to the wall, and glances back at me.
The invitation is clear.
I step closer, wrap one arm around her waist, and nudge her legs further apart, then I reach down and angle myself so I can slide into her in one thrust. She gasps as her body takes me, and I pause, allowing myself a moment to feel her holding me tight inside her. Then I start to move. Each thrust rocks her forward. My lips find her ear, and I nip the lobe, then lick away the sting.
“Touch yourself.” I want to see her come apart again while I’m buried inside her.
Her fingers find the spot between her legs, circling in time with therhythm I set. She knows how to touch herself, how to match the pressure of my thrusts with the strokes of her own hand, and the dual stimulation drives her toward another peak.
Her head tips back against my shoulder, her breath coming in short bursts. I loosen my grip on her waist so I can slide my palm up over her ribs to cup her breast, and roll her nipple between my fingers until she gasps.
“Sacha.” My name is a raspy groan as pleasure overtakes her, and she cries out, her rhythm faltering.
I don’t stop, thrusting deeper,slower, riding her through it as she rides her orgasm. Drawing out her pleasure as much as I can. My fingers tug and twist her nipple, my teeth bite into her shoulder, sucking hard enough to leave a mark, and when she falls over the edge again, I follow.
I bury myself as deep as possible, emptying inside her in hot, pulsing waves that seem to go on for eternity.
“Mel’shira.” I whisper the word against her throat, as we collapse together against the wall, my chest pressed to her back, both of us struggling to catch our breath.
The water has grown cooler, but neither of us move to adjust it, too spent to care about the dropping temperature. Eventually though, we have to move. I slip free of her body, and turn her in my arms. Her eyes are heavy-lidded, satisfied, a small smile teasing her lips. I brush wet hair from her face, pressing my lips to her forehead, her temple, her cheek.
“That was …” She shakes her head.
“An inventive way to get warm?” I hike a brow.
She stares at me for a second, then laughs, low and warm, and loops her arms around my neck.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she whispers.
We stand together, her head tucked beneath my chin, under the cooling water until she sighs and steps back, reaching behind her to turn it off. With another small smile, she steps out and takes two large squares of soft, white cloth from a nearby shelf.
Clean, warm, and considerably more centered than I've been since arriving in this world, I step from the shower and accept one of the squares she offers.
“Get dry, and I’ll go and get those clothes for you.”
She leaves the room, and the door swings shut behind her with a quiet click. I remain where I am for a moment longer, letting the silence wrap around me, then use the cloth she gave me to dry. By the time she returns, I’m standing in the center of the room. Ellie’s eyes move over me as she enters, a bundle of clothing in her hand. She places them down on one of the surfaces then turns to me.
“I had to guess the sizes, but I’m hoping they fit. I’m going to make food, so come back out to the kitchen when you’re ready.”
The garments she selected fit well enough, though the material feels strange against my skin. It clings differently, too soft, not protective enough, and nothing like Meridian’s sturdy materials. But they provide warmth that my body still needs, and currently that’s all that matters.
“Sacha?” Ellie’s voice calls me from another room.
