she said in a husky whisper, as he bent his head and took her hard nipple in his mouth.
She cradled him close, her hand snaking through his hair to keep him near as she arched her back.
Not that he was going anywhere, he thought. He sucked on her nipple and relished the soft mewl of pleasure that came from her.
He shifted his other hand upward, tugged down the rest of her shirt and bra so that he could pleasure her other breast with his mouth until it wasn’t enough.
“Touch me, Meghan,” he almost begged. When she ran her hands across the width of his shoulders, he surged upward, wrapping his arms around her waist and crushing her tight to his body.
“Blake, what—”
He silenced her with a kiss and walked with her to the edge of the bed, but then he slowly eased her down his body, the smooth hard tips of her breasts brushing along him, awakening fire wherever she touched. The sensation elicited a shiver from him.
“Has it been that long?” Meghan asked, surprising him with her sensitivity.
He shocked himself by admitting, “Since I felt something like this? Too long, love.”
“Why?” she wondered aloud, even as she tenderly ran her hands across his shoulders and then let them dip down to cover the muscles of his chest with one hand while she placed the other flat over his heart.
Her touch reached deep within him, to emotions he thought he had suppressed long ago. Covering her hand with his, he said, “Let’s not go there tonight.”
He didn’t think it was possible that the green of her eyes could get any darker, but with his words, her pupils deepened to almost black with emotion. Reaching up, she cradled his cheek, tracing the sharp line of it.
“Where would you like to go tonight?”
“To heaven,” he said, as he bent his head and took her lips with his once again.
“Heaven it is, then,” Meghan murmured as she accepted the gentle pass of his lips over hers. His touch was tentative, almost pleading. The emotions it roused sank its hooks deep into her heart, scaring her with their intensity.
She laid her hands on his shoulders as he effortlessly picked her up and placed her on the bed. When he joined her there, he lay beside her fully. Their bodies barely brushed, but it was enough to make her want more.
She cupped the swell of his pectoral muscle and ran her thumb across the hard nub. A small shudder racked his body, emboldening her.
“Ah, love. That feels good.” He looked down at her hand where she continued to strum his tight nipple.
She smiled, filled with a bravado she hadn’t known she possessed. In a playful tone she said, “Well, if it feels good for you, I imagine that it might feel good for me, too.”
He chuckled and met her gaze, amusement glittering in his crystal-blue eyes. With a cocky grin on his face, he passed the back of his hand across her breast, dragging a rough sigh from her at the pleasure that simple touch created in her core.
“Is that the sound of good, luv?”
“Yes,” she said with a sigh, then took his nipple between her fingers, rotated it gently. At their hips, where their bodies were closest, she felt the jump of his erection, a reaction that was echoed in the sympathetic pull between her legs. She twined her legs with his and he pushed his thigh upward, tight against the growing pulse at her center.
As she rode him, trying to assuage her need, he took her hard nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He pulled on it gently then gave it a playful twist, which yanked a moan from her.
He immediately seized on that sound of desire.
“So was that the sound of…even better?” he teased, even as he was bending his head and she was arching her back, offering herself up to him.
His lips closed over her nipple. He sucked the tip before circling the hard nub with his tongue and then teething it into an even tighter point. She cradled his head close and as he suckled her she thrust her hips against his.
He responded by increasing the pull of his mouth and insinuating his thigh ever tighter against her.
She rode him with growing need, but recalling his earlier playfulness and wanting to join in it, she said, “And this is the sound of un-freakin’-believable,” and finally released the low, long moan that had built within her at his actions.
Her words pulled a rough laugh from him and made his already full erection swell to painful proportions. He wanted nothing more than to bury himself in her. Nothing except possibly a taste of her humanity.
A bite of the life held tight against him.
Her heart beat furiously against his ear as he once again brought his mouth to her breast and suckled. The warmth of her—her mortal warmth—bathed his upper body with heat. The smell of her—all musky femininity—covered by the tight jeans that she wore brought sweet temptation.
The bit of vampire he had released earlier to warm her became a pool of heat at the center of him, growing ever stronger with each touch and taste of her. As she slipped her hand downward and covered his erection, a shudder ripped through him and the fire of the vampire flared across his body, breaking free and wanting dominion.
He fought the demon’s control, fearing the strength of the emotion she had called forth. He feared it even as he acknowledged that he had never experienced anything like it in either of his lives.
She must have sensed the difference in him, since she urged him up from her breast and rubbed her lips against his. “I’m afraid too, Blake. I’m afraid of how much I like the way I feel with you.”
Her confession undid the last dregs of his humanity and released the demon.
“Forgive me, love,” he said as he gently eased her head to the side and bit down.
Pain seared through her neck, but immediately after came intense desire that made her entire body throb for fulfillment.
Meghan held him close, moaning and riding his thigh as desire gripped her hard, refusing to let go much like he seemed unable to release her. The pulse of her need beat through her body and seemed to echo from his, but little by little that beat grew weaker and erratic. Somehow she realized that the fading rhythm was that of her heart, failing slowly as Blake continued to suck at her neck until only a negligible thrum remained.
Cold enveloped her body. Weakness. Her extremities became numb and useless.
As Blake finally pulled away, she caught a glimpse of his face. Long, blood-stained fangs extended well beyond his upper lip. The ice blue of his eyes burned with almost phosphorescent brightness and called to her as her eyesight dimmed.
“Sweet Jesus, Meghan. I’m sorry, love. So sorry,” he said, but his words were growing distant, as if she was fading away. Maybe she was.
A part of her brain understood that she was dying and struggled to hold on. To not let go of what little life remained. That consciousness latched onto the feel of him cradling her. Of the wetness of tears on
