Chapter 40
CHAPTER 40
JULIET
S omething inside him snaps, and Valaric captures my mouth with his, kissing me like a man possessed.
He dips his hand beneath the neckline of my dress, and I gasp as he cups my left breast, rolling the stiff peak between his thumb and forefinger. It’s too much and not enough all at once, and I arch into his palm.
I want more. I want him to touch every part of me, just as I long to explore all of him.
I run my fingers through his silken hair as he kisses along my jaw and down my neck. He stops when he reaches the mark he left with his fangs, and a low growl vibrates in his chest. “Mine.”
I’m breathless and panting, my heart pounding, not with fear, but with delicious anticipation as he continues down my body, his lips hovering above my heart. Closing my eyes, I wait for the telltale sting of his fangs to pierce my flesh.
I want him to mark me and claim me the way that a Vampire claims their mate.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him that I love him, but my nerves are aflutter. I’ve never done this before and the words will not come.
As if sensing my hesitation, he lifts his head. “Tell me to stop and I will.”
“No.” I trace my fingers along the pointed tip of his left ear. Closing his eyes, he leans into my touch, growling low in arousal. “I want you, Valaric.”
His pupils are blown wide. All traces of their normal red coloring are gone, replaced by fathomless pools of black as he stares down at me with his fangs fully extended. “Say it again.”
I cup his face. “I want you.”
Valaric crushes his mouth to mine. He slices a line down my dress with his sharp claws, leaving me in only my lace undergarments. He stares down at me, his gaze full of awe and wonder. “Beautiful,” he whispers.
Reaching up, I press my palm to his chest, feeling every dip and curve of delicious muscle. He draws in a shaking breath as I move down to his abdomen.
My fingers fumble with the fasteners of his pants before he reaches down to help. When they are finally undone, I slide them over his hips, and he pushes them down the rest of the way.
My eyes widen when I look down at his stav. I’ve seen drawings of male anatomy before, but he is the first man I’ve ever seen completely nude in the flesh, and he is so much bigger than I imagined.
He growls as I trace my fingers over his length. I’m surprised by a large bulge of spongy tissue circling the base that swells and tightens beneath my touch. “What is—”
“My knot,” he says, voice rough. “All Vampires have this at the base of their stav , whether born or made.”
Tentatively, I grip his shaft. My fingers cannot completely wrap around his girth, and I swallow hard, worried that we will not fit.
His stav is hard as steel against my inner thigh, and warm liquid beads from the tip, leaving a wet trail along the tender flesh.
He groans as I swipe my thumb over the head of his crown, and he grips my wrist firmly, yet gentle enough that I could pull away if I wished. “If you continue, I will be unable to hold back my release.” He brings my hand to his lips and presses a tender kiss to my palm. “And I want to bring you pleasure before I find mine.”
As much as I want him, I’m a bit nervous. “I’ve never done this before,” I whisper. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
He brushes the hair back from my face, gently tucking it behind my ear. “Then, we will learn together.”
I blink up at him, stunned. “But you were married before me.”
“I never wanted them the way I want you.” He cups my jaw, brushing his thumb across my lower lip. “I desire you more than anything.” His intense gaze holds mine. “Show me how you wish to be touched, my Juliet.”
Cupping the back of his neck, I pull his mouth back down to mine and whisper against his lips, “Kiss me, Valaric.”
He captures my mouth again with his own. Desire ignites deep within as he blazes a heated trail of suctioning kisses down my neck to my chest. My heart beats wildly as he traces his tongue along the gentle slope of my left breast.
Heat sears my veins. It’s not enough. I want more. “Valaric, please,” I whisper, running my fingers through his hair. “More,” I breathe.
He opens his mouth over the already stiff peak and begins a gentle suction. My body arches against his as pleasure ripples through me. The slight sting of his fangs as he pricks my skin sends an answering pulse of heat between my thighs. I cry out, wrapping my arms and legs around him, drowning in the delicious sensations of his mouth on me.
He moves down the length of my form, worshipping me with his lips and his tongue. He trails a series of kisses over my abdomen and then moves even lower. My entire body is trembling with need as he slides one hand up my thigh toward my center. He pauses in his exploration, and his eyes snap to mine. “May I touch you?”
Breathless and panting, I somehow manage to nod.
His obsidian gaze holds mine, full of desire and hunger, as he presses a tender kiss to the inside of my left thigh.
He dips his fingers in my already slick folds and the breath stutters from my lungs when he reaches the small bundle of nerves at the top. My every nerve ending hums with pleasure as he brushes his thumb over the softly hooded flesh.
I bite my lower lip to stifle a moan. I’m breathless, my heart pounding against the cage of my chest so loudly I’m sure he can hear it as he watches me, studying my reactions to his touch.
When he reaches my entrance, he carefully slips the tip of one finger inside, and I immediately tense. Not because it feels bad, but because I’ve never been touched there before.
“Tell me to stop and I will.” His eyes search mine. “I will take only what you willingly give. Nothing more.”
I cup his cheek and my voice comes out a breathless whisper. “Don’t stop.”
Desire burns in his eyes. “Open for me,” he whispers. My entire body trembles in anticipation as I do what he says, and he guides one leg over his shoulder followed by the other. “I want to taste your sweet nectar on my tongue.”
He takes my hand and places it atop his head. “Guide me, my Juliet. Show me how to touch you.”
My pulse pounds as he dips his head between my thighs and drags his tongue through my folds. When he reaches the small bundle of nerves at the cleft, the air explodes from my lungs.
“Valaric,” I breathe out, gripping the silken strands of his hair to hold him in place as I arch against him. “Right there.”
He concentrates on that area, teasing his tongue over the sensitive pearl of flesh, driving my desire even higher. Clamping my legs around his head, I gasp and cry out his name, begging him to never stop.
Encouraged by my pleas, he growls and loops his arms up under my thighs, holding them apart as he continues to worship me with his tongue. Pleasure builds like a giant wave deep within, wonderful, terrifying, and great.
My heart beats wildly against the cage of my chest. Balanced on the edge of a precipice, I’ve never felt anything like this before. I’m so afraid to give myself to this overwhelming sensation, worried it will swallow me whole and carry me away into oblivion.
“Valaric,” I barely manage, as desire coils tight in my core. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Let go,” he whispers. “I have you, my ashaya.”
My every muscle goes tense, and then I’m falling over the edge, crying out his name as pleasure roars through me like fire, leaving behind nothing but ash in its wake.
I’m still breathless and panting when he moves up my body, capturing my mouth with his own. I taste myself on his lips, and he growls as I circle my fingers around his length to guide him to my entrance.
The large bulb of tissue at the base expands and he quickly wraps his hand around mine as his stav begins to pulse. He roars out my name as he erupts, covering my abdomen and pelvis with the thick, viscous ropes of his release.
It feels as though it goes on forever. And when it stops, he gazes down at me, his eyes dark and full of possession as he smooths his hand over my body, as if marking me, spreading his essence over my skin.
He drops to one side and enfolds me in his wings. His heart beats a strong and steady rhythm beneath my palm as a thrumming sound vibrates in his chest, something between a purr and low growl as he gently nuzzles my temple.
I nestle in his embrace, reveling in the feel of his body against my own. He skims the tip of his nose alongside mine and runs his hands up and down my back, tracing patterns across my flesh as if he cannot stop touching me.
Thoroughly sated, my eyes blink open and closed as I struggle to stay awake.
“Rest, my ashaya,” he whispers. “I have you.”
Ashaya. Beloved. Although he has yet to declare his love, I feel it in the way this word leaves his lips in sacred reverence.
But as my mind hovers in the place between sleep and awareness, I wonder why he did not mark the space above my heart and give me his venom. Why he didn’t claim me in this way, and why he didn’t take me completely.
The questions sit on the tip of my tongue, but exhaustion keeps them from my lips as I drift away into peaceful oblivion.