Blood Red. Sharon PageЧитать онлайн книгу.
of her nightgown. Yannick released her thighs, saw the red imprints of his fingers as his hands joined hers. Small, delicate hands—hard to imagine them plunging a stake into his heart, but he didn’t doubt she could do it.
He helped her draw the gown up until it bunched at her waist. He traced her smooth, softly curved belly. Dipped his finger into her small, shadowed navel. Ran his palm along the generous flare of her hips.
Lovely, womanly. And his. His to enjoy, to pleasure, to treasure.
If only for a few nights.
The benefit to speaking in her mind? He could communicate without ever once lifting his tongue from her slick, musky quim.
Gentle enough, love?
“Perfect,” she gasped. “Wonderf—Oooh!”
I want to make you come, Althea, just as you do in your dreams. I want to make you come again and again…
He cupped her buttocks and lifted her to his mouth. Feasted on her.
“Oh God!”
Her honey dripped from her now and he slipped his thumb into her quim to stir her. Fiery hot and drenched, her walls clutched him tight.
She was pure, utterly pure, giving herself to him.
It humbled him and he was a man rarely cowed.
He withdrew his thumb, slid two fingers into her, reaching as far as her barrier. Her cunny gripped him tight and his cock jolted upward in hope.
Patience.
In defiance, his prick bucked again. His balls had sucked tight to his body, aching along with his heavy erection. Coated with his own juices, the head of his cock already felt filled to bursting, his shaft straighter and harder than he’d ever known it. She moaned and another pulse of blood filled him. Stretched him. Stiffened him. Hades, his cock felt as though it weighed fifty pounds.
Once she came, then, perhaps…
Crooking his fingers, Yannick stroked, and searched for the magic places in her walls. He pressed his baby finger to the snug, puckered entrance between the cheeks of her ass. He eased in a hair’s breath. It resisted and he didn’t try to go further. Instead he teased her little opening until she shuddered beneath him.
I want to fill you completely, love. With my cock, my fingers, my tongue. I want to fill you in every way I can imagine.
Althea sobbed. Her hips banged hard on the bed.
Yes. Pound against my face, on my fingers. Touch your breasts. Play with them. Squeeze and stroke your nipples, Althea, love. Together, we will take you to heaven.
She obeyed him. One delicate, feminine hand gripped each breast. More buttons gave way in her gown until her round breasts were bared. Firm little mounds, the color of clotted cream, pearlescent and plump, topped by erect pink nipples that he longed to gobble up. Her small fingers touched and explored, uncertain at first, and then finding delight.
Yannick couldn’t bear to be left out of the fun. Reaching up, he found the damp, hot undersides of her breasts.
Pluck your nipples, love, but let me touch them too.
He spanned both erect tips with his hand, while his mouth danced over her and his fingers played inside her scalding cunny.
“Oh heavens—”
Her hips drove up hard against his mouth, banging his jaw. He couldn’t draw back in time and pricked her lightly with his fangs.
She didn’t seem to care. Her body went rigid. Her quim clenched around his fingers, sucked him in, held him, pulsed around him. Her hands clutched her breasts, clawing mercilessly as she bucked beneath him. Tangled hair flew across her agonized face.
Althea looked so beautiful in ecstasy. Crying out for him. Sobbing. Thrashing with it. Taken by it.
God, yes.
A flood of her juices poured out onto his hand. Yannick slid down to bury his face there, to taste and enjoy.
“Oooooh.” She flopped back on the bed. Her legs went limp. Her arms dangled weakly by her sides. “Oh, that was so…so unladylike. I am so sorry—”
He chuckled and lifted from her, braced on his arms. Althea’s lids dipped over her sparkling eyes, lashes lowered, and she let her head drop back on a sigh.
So angelic, even after orgasm.
He bent, kissed her flushed belly. “Sorry? It’s delicious, little one. Such sweet nectar. A reward for pleasuring you well.”
She opened her eyes and stared down at her crumpled nightgown. “Oh, I must look a fright—”
Yannick laughed—he’d laughed more in this night with Althea than in all the years since he’d been turned. “You look beautiful. Now, move over, love.”
“Move over?”
He stretched out along the length of the bed and drew her slender body to him. She tumbled against him in surprise. Plump breasts fell against his mouth, smothering him, and her wet quim landed tight to his stomach. The tip of his cock nudged her creamy folds.
Voice strained, he joked against her warm curves, “I must get you a larger bed, if I am to share it with you.” He opened his mouth wide, head down to hide his fangs, and sucked one nipple into his mouth.
The sweetest moans poured from her lips as her fingers dug into his shoulder blades. He shifted his hips, so her soaking pussy brushed his cock. Suckling harder, he shifted to roll her onto her back.
With a soft squeal, Althea fell onto the wrinkled sheets, her nipple—mottled red now, and standing up—releasing from his mouth with a little pop. Thick dark red hair spilled around her and caught the flitting moonlight. He bent to capture her soft mouth, cocking his hips ahead to push his prick an inch within her.
So hot and wet and tight and perfect—
She jerked her head to the side to avoid his mouth, reached down, grabbed his cock. Both her hands closed tight around it and she wrenched it up, up through her cleft as she pulled it away from her quim. It raked her clit and her moan electrified him. Yannick almost burst right in her hands.
“No.”
His normally slow heartbeat thundered in his ears. No? Sweet angel, why not?
“The dreams,” she said desperately. “Why did we have the dreams? Why? What do they mean?”
His hips rocked of their own volition. The motion drew his cock back and forth through her tight grip. His tender skin snagged and pulled with exquisite agony.
Yannick could barely pull his thoughts together, much less send them to her.
I don’t know, but I suspect they…were to warn us…tell us that we are destined…destined to have incredible sex.
He truly didn’t know. After all, he’d believed he had no destiny beyond the next full moon.
“But you are a vampire,” she protested, “And I am a—”
You are a hunter of vampires.
Yannick did not like the direction of this conversation. But she was an innocent, and a little fear and apprehension were to be expected.
You have no need to fear me, Althea. I perhaps have more reason to fear you.
“I am a virgin. And moral. Church-going. God-fearing. I am supposed to be pure. I can’t.” Compelling and frightened, her eyes stared up into his.
He needed her so much tonight but he wouldn’t force her. Or control her. But perhaps, with another orgasm or two he could convince her.
Althea gasped as Yannick moved down between her thighs again. How she wanted it. Wanted more. Wanted him. But she must stop him. He wouldn’t pleasure her without expecting pleasure himself, would he?
But