Chapter 34
Thirty-Four
Mina’s body slowly returned to her control, altered forever by Silt’s bone-melting kiss. As she lay sprawled, he slid his fingers from her.
Seeming unable to help himself, he sucked them clean with a shudder. Noticing her riveted attention, he avoided her gaze.
“Sorcerer? What is it?” She was amazed by how steady she sounded when he’d just delivered even more revelations.
He kissed her thigh, grinding his shaft against the bed. “Nothing.”
“Have I done something wrong?”
“No!” He raised his head, brows drawn. “You’re . . . no .”
Ah. “It’s different with me, isn’t it?” His hands had shaken when he’d touched her, and even she had sensed the magic in the air. After thousands of years feeling one way, the sorcerer now dealt with a new experience—and it was spooking him. “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out as we go.” And so far everything was marching along to her plan. . . .
“Figure out what? The next step is clear,” he said, his manner businesslike. Trying to make this encounter similar to all the others? “You’re ready. I need inside you.” He rose up between her thighs and fisted his swollen length.
“I’m not ready for sex.” They weren’t in the presence of the divine. Not yet. And she wouldn’t settle for mere intercourse for her first time. Mina had made herself a promise about this. If she couldn’t keep a promise to herself, how could she keep them with others? “But that doesn’t mean we can’t continue to break new ground.” She yearned to explore other acts she’d witnessed.
A flare of interest lit his gaze. “I’m listening.”
“I want to reciprocate. Unfortunately, I won’t be very skillful—not like you were with your kiss. You must have practiced on a million females. I can tell.”
“Thanks?”
She sighed. “I’m not saying the right things. Sexy things. Pleasure has confounded me.”
His gaze softened. “Good.”
“So you didn’t deny it when I guessed you’d had a million lovers?”
“Princess,” he said warningly.
“Very well. Trade places with me? And I’ll stumble through what I can.”
Expression filled with curiosity, he allowed her to steer him until he reclined on his back.
Primed from her orgasm, her senses felt even more alive. Inhaling his mouthwatering scent, she let her gaze roam from his golden eyes . . . to the muscles of his rippling torso . . . to the pulses of his magnificent rod.
Filled with life, his length pointed toward his heart. In a trance, her gaze followed that taunting vein. Would she be able to keep herself from punishing it as she’d fantasized? Maybe she shouldn’t chance this.
“Do not second-guess yourself, princess. Our course is set.”
She nodded, not sure how to embark. Then his testicles tightened, drawing her attention. She reached to fondle them, and he groaned as if this was a special delight for him. At last, she got to cup and weigh them until he grated, “No more stalling, female. I want your mouth on me.”
That mouth pouted. “I could play with these forever.”
“Or as long as I could withstand this onslaught.” He made her attentions sound like a battle offensive, which pleased her.
She might not have experience with this—not like his millions of other partners had—but she knew moves and countermoves. She could adjust her campaign based on his reactions. Logic would dictate how she proceeded. And she had seen the act plenty of times at the Tree, although seeing and doing weren’t the same. . . .
“Relieve me of this”—his lips were thinned—“or I’ll do it myself.”
She debated between these two appetizing possibilities. Deciding on one for now, she took his length in hand once more, her pale skin stark against his blood-filled shaft. It throbbed in time with his heartbeat as she dipped down to lave the crown. His sublimely salty taste greeted her. “Umm.”
He gazed on with his lids hooded, but his chest heaved.
She kissed the contours of the proud crown. Under the ridges. Up to the tip. She licked that sensitive slit, dipping her tongue for more saltiness. Logic receded as she lovingly kissed him. “You taste like magic.”
“Sand almighty.”
She’d felt feminine power when sword training and when acknowledging her intellectual capabilities. Now as she moved down his shaft with butterfly licks and little sucks, she felt a different kind of feminine power. His mounting groans told her she could make this sorcerer crazed, could enchant his will for a time?—
He sucked in a breath. “Bite?”
She jerked back. Peered down in shock. One tiny globe of crimson was rising from just above that vein. “I didn’t mean to nick your skin! I didn’t taste it.” Her fangs had sharpened beyond her control. “I feared this would happen, but I got so carried away.”
He leaned up on his elbows, gaze inscrutable.
Rushing to fill the silence, she said, “When you fed me blood at the waterfall, the urge to bite you nearly overwhelmed me. Vampires can learn to govern their fangs in time, but considering my affliction . . .” She trailed off, attention back on the flawless globe of that drop. It’d grown. Firelight reflected in the liquid. Transfixed, she murmured, “Life.”
Wicked impulses arose within her. Vampiric impulses. She wanted to steal his blood, his seed, steal into his every waking thought like some nightmare creature. I want to haunt him.
Whatever he saw in her face made him say, “Fuck it all—pierce me.” If anything, his shaft was harder. “You have fangs to tap my flesh. We both want you to do it.”
It’d be like tapping into the very heart of him! “It’s taboo.” Yet how could she possibly resist sinking her fangs into his meaty length?
“Only a matter of time before you draw my blood again.”
Could she handle the influx of his many memories? Anxiety replaced awe; she was already on borrowed time. “I’m losing control, and I don’t want to drink straight from the flesh.”
He gave his head a shake. “Okay, you’re right. It’s not time.”
“Maybe you should go. I’ve dreamed of attacking you, biting you, and the bloodlust makes me stronger?—”
He flipped her onto her back, trading places with her. “I can handle you.” Maneuvering his body over hers, he pinned her wrists above her head. With his other hand, he held his rod above her mouth.
That nick welled crimson—its pendulous drop hanging suspended above her lips. . . .
“Do you want it?” he asked, a challenge in his tone. “I’ll feed you like this.”
“Yes, yes, feed me .” She held her breath as his blood fell.
Falling.
Falling.
Contact. The smoldering drop hit her bottom lip; starbursts exploded behind her fluttering lids. “More!” She licked her lip, sucking it. Overcome by his taste, she twisted beneath him to get free. Bite him. Drink him down, down . . .
But he was too strong for her, mastering her body. The sight of his flexing muscles and the feel of his grip only added to the sensory overload.
As he peered at her eyes, his widened.
“What is it?”
“My vampire needs more blood”—he stroked his member, and another drop fell to her lips—“from the fountain of me.”
Taboo!
So?
As his lifeblood coursed through her veins with molten intensity, more magic swirled around them.
“You crave my taste like it’s the finest wine. You always will.” He stared down at her eyes. “I’ve ruined you for all else.”
He had. He had! She writhed beneath him, about to climax again. Magic. Sex. Man. Everything about this sorcerer melded to pleasure her. This infusion of him couldn’t be denied much longer.
He’s in my heart. He’s inside me. She squeezed her thighs and undulated. “Ah, ahh!”
“You’re going again?” He gazed at her frenzied hips. “Lusty piece.”
Once she hovered on the very brink, a stream of blood met her tongue directly. He’d somehow cut his length to drench her mouth. She might as well have kissed his heart. As she drank him down, rapture tumbled her over the edge, her core contracting with each wave of it.
No logic. Just sensation and starbursts.
His brows furrowed, his body a mass of tension. “You’ve robbed me of control. Can’t fight this any longer.” He aimed his big shaft down, gave his fist a pump. The muscles in his neck and chest went rigid, his arms bulging. “Going to . . . come !” He threw back his head and bellowed as his semen erupted.
Scalding lashes took both of her breasts. Her straining red nipples peeked up through whipmarks of white seed.
He yelled over and over until his voice broke, till he could scarcely utter a stunned, “Sand almighty.”
Her tension ebbed in time with his, her movements slowing, breaths easing.
Spent, he gave a last husky groan. “Look at this.” Pure masculine satisfaction lit his face as he stared at his seed upon her. “I’ll never come again. You’ve drained me, princess.” He released her and collapsed against the back of the sofa. Between breaths, he said, “And you’ve shocked me. Do you know how difficult it is to shock an immortal like me?”
“Hmm?” His pearlescent semen was slashed through with a thread of red. Unable to help herself, she dabbed her finger in both and brought it to her mouth. Her tongue darted for a taste.
“Oh, fuck me,” he muttered in shock, and the madness began all over again.