Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
SILVANUS
My hate gave way to my desire.
In that moment, when he spoke with such determination to go out fighting, he shattered my disgust. Took it and spun it into a strange magic of rage and lust.
It consumed me, driving my lips to his. Once again, my fangs pierced his flesh, filling my mouth with his honeyed blood.
He kissed me back, his arms slipping from my grip and, rather than attack me, his hands landed on my back, fingers digging into my jacket, encouraging me toward him.
My cock engorged with blood and I ground it against his bulge. Hunger rising, storm be damned. I didn’t care. I only wanted to feel his kiss and his hardness, to let his magnificent honey aroma carry me to euphoric heights.
A delicate hum skimmed over my flesh, followed by a warmth pooling in my body.
I sat up, breaking this kiss. His arms fell to his sides, his blue eyes radiant.
“What—”
The arrival of moonlight beneath my skin cut him off. A luminous white light shone from within me, painting him in lunar hues, along with the area around him.
“Erm…” he panted, propping himself up on his elbows. “Have you always been able to do that?”
I inspected my arms, my hands, mired in confusion. “No.”
“Can you do anything other than glow?” he asked.
His sex-dipped voice hardened my nipples. “I don’t know.”
He wriggled beneath me, brushing my erection. “I guess this is something else you have to remember.”
I didn’t feel any different, only slightly warmer than usual.
Moonlight? The tingle of energy, the hint of power buried deep. What did it mean?
Paris wriggled again, watching me expectantly, his heartbeat a nervous thrill to my ears.
He shone brighter than the moonlight beneath my skin. This new mystery could wait. I had to have him.
I removed my jacket, tossing it away.
He licked his lips, eyes exploring my flesh.
I unbuttoned my pants, bristling with need. I wanted him inside me on this hill, no time to return to the house.
Standing, I removed my pants, throwing them to join the jacket.
There. Naked. Exposed to him, water sluicing down my body, dripping off the end of my cock.
Paris understood my intent, pulling down his jeans and underwear, setting his erection free.
I lowered myself again, curling a hand around his shaft.
He released a louder, shakier breath at my touch.
Just as my cock was self-lubricating, so was my backside. Vampire bodies were built for blood and speed and pleasure, always ready to accommodate all three.
I took hold of his hardness and pressed the tip to my crevice. He never took his eyes off me, his bottom lip clamped between his teeth.
At the next burst of lightning, I guided him into me.
He fit perfectly.
Just as I expected.