Chapter 35
35
H e kissed me hard, his hand fisting in my hair, and I responded in kind, my fingers digging into the corded muscles of his arms. When I pressed against his chest, wanting to be closer, a rumble came from deep within his throat, eliciting a wave of shivers. Without warning, he broke the kiss, resting his forehead against mine. We were both breathless, our chests rising and falling heavily.
“We have terrible timing.” He chucked low and without humor.
He was right. The timing was terrible, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was here and now. We would have to face the witches soon, and there was a possibility that we would not survive, but we were alive now, right here in this room. And I wanted to be alive with him, to experience what I had in my dreams. They’d continued long after he’d turned me, growing in their intensity, driving me mad with desire. When I’d told him I was dreaming about him, he’d said it was because he was the one who’d turned me. He’d said it was his blood making me dream about him. But it wasn’t his blood. It was him, all of him. I knew that now, without a doubt.
“Henry,” I breathed, and he must have heard the desperate need in my voice because his eyes flooded with molten heat.
His features sharpened with raw lust a moment before he leaned in. I expected him to claim my mouth again and kiss me wildly, but instead, he brushed his lips over mine painstakingly slowly. My breath caught as I held still, reveling in the sensation as tiny sparks hit every part of my body. The tenderness of the kiss brought tears to my eyes as emotions rose and swelled in my chest. He was drinking from my lips, taking his time as if he would be content to do just that—kiss me for all eternity. Then Henry tilted his head, and everything changed.
The kiss became more—so much more. He tugged on my bottom lip with his fangs, and a soft gasp left me as I opened up for him. He increased the pressure, every fierce stroke of his tongue resonating in every part of my body as desire pulsed between my thighs. The kiss became urgent and demanding. He devoured me, and I responded in kind, our fangs clashing and our tongues mingling. I melted into him, as the throbbing ache between my thighs intensified.
Only kissing him was no longer enough, so I abruptly broke the kiss, reaching for the hem of my tunic. I pulled it over my head, casting it aside. Henry went still and seemed to have stopped breathing as his gaze dropped to the hardened tips of my breasts. He reached up, almost reverently, and brushed his knuckles on the underside of my breasts, stirring the amulet still resting between them.
“Beautiful,” he breathed, running his thumbs over the sensitive peaks.
The fleeting touch sent a ripple of pleasure through me, and I gasped, arching into him. Dark, hungry eyes darted to mine as a deep, raw sound escaped Henry’s lips. In a heartbeat, I was on the edge of the bed, and he stood beside it, pulling off my boots, then my leggings and undergarments.
“Sophie,” he rasped as he towered over me, drinking in my naked form.
His eyes roamed over every inch of my body before settling on the throbbing space between my thighs.
Slowly, he reached for me, and all my attention zeroed in on his hand as his fingers glided through my wetness, eliciting a breathy moan from me. I knew we didn’t have time to take this slow, to worship each other as we explored all the unexpected hidden places that made our breaths hitch. Even if we did, I didn’t think I would be able to drag this out. I was desperate for him—my dreams making me feel like I’d been waiting forever to feel his touch on my heated flesh, to unleash the unspent desire humming just below the surface of my skin.
Sitting up on the edge of the bed, I reached for him, tearing at the buttons of his breeches. My throat dried as I freed him from his pants. I went to curl my hand around him, desperate to touch him, but before I could, he gripped my waist and lifted me off the bed. He turned us around and sat on the edge before lowering me down to straddle him. My knees fell to either side of his hips, and I shuddered when I felt him hard at my core. He groaned, tensing under me, and his eyes drifted closed as I glided my hands over his chest to his shoulders.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and tenderly kissed his brow before brushing my lips over his cheekbone and the firm line of his jaw. I loved touching him, feeling his smooth skin under my lips and my hands, and he seemed to be reveling in my touch, trembling slightly. His arms encircled my waist, pulling me tightly against him, leaving no space between us as he claimed my mouth again. My skin hummed from the contact, and my lips tingled from his kisses as I lost myself in the feel of him.
“Sophie,” he whispered against my lips. “I have been dreaming about you, too.”
My eyes pricked with tears and my chest became tight as I pulled away to look into his eyes, which were nearly black with hunger. I knew it wasn’t just hunger for blood but for me . Nothing mattered then. There was no past and no future, only this moment.
Suddenly, it felt like we had all the time in the world, but I wasn’t going to wait any longer. I couldn’t. Lifting up, I tilted my hips until I felt him where I ached, pressing into me. Henry shuddered, holding himself still as I slowly lowered myself, moaning at the exquisite sensation. Another harsh groan left him as I sank down on his length, taking all of him in. His fingers threaded through my hair, and he clasped the back of my neck, drawing my mouth back to his. I kissed him as I lifted my hips, trembling slightly before lowering myself once more. A ragged cry tore from my lips at the sharp wave of pleasure as Henry moaned, rough and deep. The sound spurred me into action as I began moving slowly but steadily, chasing that sound again and my own building pleasure.
“This,” Henry rasped against my lips, “is so much better than the dreams.”
He was right. My dreams didn’t even come close to the feeling of having him inside me. I began to move faster, rocking against him, my breathing coming in quick, short pants. He clasped my thighs, his fingers digging in, as he helped me move on him, lifting me up before pulling me down again, harder each time. I gasped with pleasure as another need invaded my senses.
“I need…” I breathed, lowering my head, my fangs grazing the pulse at his throat.
“Yes,” he rasped. “Take what you need. I am yours.”
My fangs pierced the skin, eliciting a rough sound from him, and I moaned as his blood, rich and thick, filled my mouth. I had him—all of him—and the feeling was pure ecstasy.
After I swallowed a few gulps of his essence, my head fell back, and my eyes closed as pleasure climbed higher inside me. His breath coasted over my breast before I felt the wet glide of his tongue as his mouth closed over the hardened tip. I cried out as he sucked deep and long. The graze of his fangs over my nipple told me what he wanted, what he needed, as his hips flexed and thrust upward, harder and deeper than before.
Bringing my mouth to his ear, I whispered, “Do it.”
I wanted him to bite me, to take from me like I’d taken from him.
Henry pulled my head back, exposing my throat, and every part of me trembled as his fangs scraped my skin. Under me, he moved his powerful body at a punishing rhythm, each thrust of his hips bringing me closer to the edge. When his fangs sank in, I shattered with a sharp cry, release crashing through me in waves. Henry followed me over the edge, his large body shaking, and the sound he made against my neck heated my blood, intensifying my pleasure.
I collapsed on him, limp and boneless, resting my head on his shoulder. He held me tightly to his chest, his hand still tangled in my hair, as we sat there, waiting for our breathing to slow. Still trembling slightly, I lifted my head and met his gaze, which was growing more blue and less black by the second. Suddenly, my heart was bursting with want and need and something else I wasn’t quite ready to acknowledge. His eyes were full of awe and wonder as he stared at me. Lifting his hand from my hair, he pressed the tips of his fingers gently against my cheek, drawing in a shallow breath.
“That was—” he began saying but stopped, his dark lashes sweeping down as he lowered his gaze to my chest. “The amulet…it’s glowing.”