Three

Grasping her elbows, he tugged her up, reveling in the feel of her bare breasts pressed to his bare chest; her soft, bare stomach pressed to his hard bare abdomen; her bare (really bare—waxed to glossy perfection) mound pressed to the length of his rigid, almost painful erection.

He kissed her lightly, smoothed a hand down the line of her delicate spine into the cleft of her buttocks. She shivered at his touch, and he wasn’t far behind.

“Turn around,” he murmured, pleased when she did so immediately, without a word, without trepidation.

Climbing onto the mattress behind her, he knee-walked them closer to the center of the bed to give them more room to maneuver, then tugged her back against him once more. With one hand, he cupped her breast, the other hand trailing down the center of her slim torso.

While his mouth nipped and nibbled at her throat, his fingers dipped into her damp, feminine folds. Chloe sucked in a breath and stiffened against him as he cruised over her tight little clitoris. He held her more firmly and continued his erotic exploration, adding the tweaking of her taut nipple to the mix.

He loved the feel of her, all warm and supple like pulled taffy, as well as the scent of hot, highly aroused woman. Finding her center, he slowly teased the opening with two rough fingertips, stirring her juices, preparing her for his entry, both now and later.

Filling her to the first knuckle, he twisted his fingers, enjoying the sound of her hitched breaths and the cushion of her swollen, sensitized flesh. At her neck, he sucked gently, giving her a small hickey of the innocuous human variety.

What he really wanted, though, was to taste her there. To sink his fangs, which were pulsing in tandem with the throb of his cock, into her skin and the tiny vein lying beneath, pumping all that delicious blood to her heart and through the entire rest of her anatomy.

He already knew how she would taste. His heightened senses took him well past the sexy floral fragrance of her favorite perfume—lilies and ginger and a touch of honey—to what lay beneath. The way she tasted when they made love—tart and musky and feminine—would carry into her bloodstream, along with that wonderful copper tang.

He craved it, just as much as he craved being inside her, stroking them both to a quivering, mind-blowing climax. But to have her body and her blood at the same time . . .

He shuddered, driving his fingers even deeper so that she clenched around him. Now that would be ecstasy.

Promising himself he wouldn’t bite, wouldn’t even come close, he ran his teeth over her in the direction opposite to what it would take to break the skin. He knew the sharp tips would scratch, but they wouldn’t do any damage, and damn did it feel good.

Between her legs, he drove his fingers deep, as far as they would go. His thumb rode her clit while he pressed into all that soft, tender tissue, searching for her G-spot and knowing he found it when she gave a sharp cry.

With his hard cock rubbing into her buttocks, he fucked her with his hand, playing with her breasts, rolling that swollen, overly sensitive nub, and nibbling at her neck like a starving vampire.

In only seconds, she came with a scream no one but he would ever hear. She arched against him, spasmed around his fingers, and nearly took him straight over the edge right along with her.

Drawing his hips away just in time, he managed to hold back. Barely. He waited for her to calm before tipping her head and kissing her sweet, rosy lips.

“Bend forward,” he commanded, knowing full well she was too loose and wrung out to do anything else once he let go of her.

Grabbing the pillows from the headboard, he folded one in half and tucked it under her belly. The other he used to cushion her head and chest.

Poor darling was so sated, she draped herself across both without a word, practically without a breath. And he should know—he only used his lungs out of long habit and to keep from freaking out mortals who might notice his chest hadn’t moved in an hour and a half—but he tended to be very aware of other people’s breathing habits.

“You aren’t falling asleep on me, are you?” he teased. She rolled her head on the pillow and gave a muffled, “No.”

He grinned. He didn’t quite believe her, but in a minute, she would once again be wide awake. Guaranteed.

Staring down at her delectable ass, he grabbed the twin porcelain globes and gave them a squeeze. Chloe made a noise partway between a grunt and a sigh, and his smile got even wider. She really was adorable.

And sexy as hell.

He flicked the tip of one fang with his tongue. They were throbbing like the dickens. Fully extended . . . longer than he could ever remember them being.

The same could be said for his dick. Baseball bats, marble pillars, and railroad spikes all came to mind.

Taking one hand from her buttocks, he gripped himself, squeezing near the base and then stroking slowly upward. Tempting fate, to be sure. At the same time, he smoothed his fingers through her crease, finding her creamy moisture and running it up and down.

She was plenty wet. More than ready for him. And he was certainly ready for her.

Normally, they used a condom. It wasn’t necessary—he could no more give her something than he could catch it from her, and vampires were notoriously disease-free. But she didn’t know that, and since he hadn’t yet told her he was a vampire, there was no other way to convince her that her idea of safe sex was redundant.

Just trying to weasel out of using a rubber would have made him sound like . . . well, a weasel, and she probably would have run a hundred miles an hour in the other direction. He didn’t want to be that guy. Even though it was an added step and an added barrier neither of them needed, he wasn’t willing to come across as being even remotely unconcerned about her health and welfare.

So he’d suited up like a good little boy each and every time they’d been together.

This time, though, he’d already given her a nice, headspinning climax that had left her drowsy and satisfied. And she was facing the other direction, which meant she wouldn’t know whether he’d donned protection or not.

Oh, there would be plenty of explaining to do later, especially given the pink, blood-tinted stain his semen would leave on her thighs, but he’d planned to tell her everything at some point this evening, anyway. So there was no time like . . . a couple of hours from now.

Nudging her legs apart with his knee, he used his damp hand to spread her wetness over his cock and balls. Then he moved closer, lining up his plump, swollen tip with her slick opening.

She moaned and arched her hips slightly. He eased in, first just an inch, and then another and another.

Soon, Chloe was pushing herself up to her elbows, then onto her hands. He heard her still-silent breathing speed up and felt the tension growing in her muscles and tendons.

“I love you, you know,” he told her, gathering up the long, loose strands of her hair and draping them down the center of her spine.

Her response was a low, guttural groan. One he reciprocated wholeheartedly.

With a single forward thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, closing his eyes on the tight, wet heat that surrounded him. He moaned. Took short, shallow breaths, even though it was a totally human thing to do.

Chloe wiggled her behind, making him grit his teeth.

“God, you feel good,” he ground out.

Panting, she dropped her head and curled her fingers into the bedclothes. “Stop being cruel, Aidan. For God’s sake, move!”

Oh, she didn’t know from cruel. Not really. But he intended to show her pleasure.

Grasping her hips, he pulled out almost all the way, then glided back in. Withdrew and pressed forward, parried and retreated. Slowly at first, drawing plaintive whimpers from her as she kneaded the covers like a hungry kitten and pushed back, trying to meet his thrusts and hasten his movements.

He tried to hold on, tried to keep his plunges slow and easy. But he was already primed well beyond even his usual immortal limits. Hard and aching, his balls drawn up and tight.

Snaking an arm around her waist, he hauled her up, letting her head loll on his shoulder. He swept her hair to one side, out of the way so that he could press open-mouth kisses to her collar bone, the taut muscle running from her shoulder to her neck, and that sweet, thrumming jugular vein that rested just beneath her sweat-dappled skin.

His hands moved from her waist to her breasts and back again. Over her hips, her thighs, between her legs. He touched her everywhere he could reach and in whatever way kept her close to him, aided their movements, brought her up and down on his rampant cock harder and faster.

She bounced against him, tiny mewling sounds passing her lips and echoing through the room. Slipping his fingers over her belly and into the slit of her mound, he found her hot button and pressed.

With a scream, she came around him, flexing, tightening, bringing him with her like a backdraft. While the orgasm ripped through him, making him gasp, making him stiffen inside of her, he tipped her head and couldn’t resist any longer. The truth would come out soon enough, and she would know everything.

Opening his mouth, he skimmed his teeth—fangs and all—across her skin, finding just the right spot. And then he sank them in, bit deep, letting her blood spill over his tongue even as he filled her with his essence.

It was everything he’d dreamed of and more. She tasted like honey and flowers and sunshine—or what he imagined sunshine might taste like, since he hadn’t actually seen the big ball of fiery gas in decades. For long, drawn-out moments, he simply held her, drank her, absorbed her into himself as much as he could.

Suddenly, though, he realized she wasn’t moving. Was perfectly, almost deathly still, and not just in the post-orgasmic, toosated-to-budge way. Loosening his grip, he took a last sip and ran his tongue over the two pristine puncture marks in her throat, using his unique vampire enzymes to seal the wound. Then he cupped her chin, brought her face around to his while still caressing her stomach and between her breasts.

“Are you all right?” he asked softly, bussing her cheek. She licked her lips, the tendons of her neck convulsing as she swallowed. “You bit me,” she said, sounding a little dazed, a little confused.

“Yes,” he admitted, not wanting to have this particular conversation right here and now, but knowing he had no one but himself to blame for the timing and circumstances.

She licked her lips again, moving away from him slightly so that he slipped out of her warm, wet body. He bit back a groan at the loss of her heat, her nearness, but didn’t try to stop her.

“You bit me,” she repeated. This time, her voice carried a note of astonishment edged with anger.

Uh-oh.

Lifting a hand to her throat, she felt the marks, violet eyes widening when she realized it was a hell of a lot more than the average love bite.

“You bit me—” Her accusations were all annoyance now, any signs of perplexity gone. “—and you broke the skin.”

“I’m sorry,” he told her, and he meant it. He’d loved drinking from her, having her share that part of herself with him, but he had dropped the ball on the whole red light/green light asking permission thing beforehand. “I should have told you sooner. I should have explained instead of just jumping in like that.”

Looking at her fingers, rubbing the red-smeared pads together, startlement flashed across her features. “I’m bleeding .”

Still on her knees, she turned to face him. “What the hell were you—”

Lifting her head, she stopped in mid-sentence, shock causing her eyes to pop. She went white as a sheet, her mouth dropping open.

“Oh, my God,” she breathed, and Aidan knew his belief that she would understand and accept him, and that they’d live happily ever after had been sorely miscalculated.

And then her eyes rolled back in her head, her body went slack, and she hit the sheets in a dead faint.