“Oh, you are arrogant, my lord, aren’t you.”
He laughed at that and bent to her lovely neck. Sweet perspiration coated her skin, and he licked it away.
A few long passes of his cock over her sweet little nub and she cried, “My lord!”
He was certain her voice had rung through every corner of his house, and he didn’t care.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispered in her ear as she came again. A lovely, languorous orgasm, and she clung to his shoulders afterward.
“I think I will die if I come once more. Feel my heart.”
“I will, sweeting, but first, I want to fill you with my cock.”
“I think you will find I am most satisfactorily wet.”
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How could she find the wit to tease? His were gone, burned to ash by desire.
He parted her sticky lips with his cock, and her honey flowed out. He thrust slowly forward, slowly, slowly, filling her inch by inch. Her cunny held him tight, opening for him, caressing him in wet fire.
God, yes.
He met her gaze as he thrust, stared in her luminous eyes as he withdrew to the tip and plunged deep.
“Ooh, your every stroke…caresses me inside…and oh, what it does to my clit—”
Sweat dripped down his forehead as his muscles strained to hold her, as his body yearned to pound hard.
She begged, “Harder, deeper…yes, just like that!”
Her climax triggered his, his come roaring through his cock like a ball through a cannon. His brain burst into flame, his lungs burned, and his last thought was to capture her mouth in a kiss—
He held her tight as his orgasm controlled him, and when the last spasms died away, he slumped his shoulder against the wall. But he still cradled Serena in his arms—his biceps twitched, his forearms felt numb. His climax had leeched his strength. Gasping for breath, he slid his cock out and lowered her feet to the floor.
“My legs are too weak to stand.” She laughed and he swept her up again. Discretion was in order, so he pushed his cock back into his trousers.
“Do you think anyone will guess?” she asked. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair in disarray, and they both smelled of mingled juices, of pleasure.
“No, my sweet. Of course not.”
“Liar. And I do believe I can walk now.”
“Ah, but you do not have to.” Though he risked stumbling on his shaky legs, Jonathon kissed Serena as he carried her to the stairs. As they reached the stairs, he couldn’t stop kissing her, loving the taste of her mouth so much, until he glanced up and saw his servants. Reluctantly, he released her mouth, still tasting her on his lips.
He jogged down the stairs, with her in his arms, and quickly reached his bedchamber. She lay on his bed, delectably disheveled, and watched him as he peeled off his clothes.
“Much better than the theatre,” she teased.
As he yanked down his small clothes and his cock leapt upward, he swept a munificent bow.
“At your service, my love.”
Her eyes sparkled in response.
By the glow of the fire and one candle, he helped her undress. His large fingers struggled with the tiny buttons of her gown, but he slipped them free of their loops.
“Thank heavens!” She peeled the silk away from her. “I was about to expire from the heat.”
He gave a playful frown. “But I intended to make you hotter.”
“You want more?” She looked astonished, glanced down, and saw his cock rising. The sight of her in corset and shift had his desire burning once more. “I can promise you I am completely drenched.” A wicked smile curved her mouth. “And what is your most devilish desire, my lord?
What would you like to do most?”
“Serena—”
“The Royal Society possesses the most graphic and shocking books—it appears that authors and artists believe vampires have very inventive couplings.”
“And proper young ladies should not look at those books.”
A shadow touched her eyes, so he teased, “And what intrigued you the most?”
The return of her smile made his heart lurch. “No, Jonathon, I want to know what pleases you.”
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“You. With me. Now.”
He had never known this light-hearted teasing, had never expected to mix sex and laughter with such explosive results.
“I want to know,” she teased.
“Will you strap me if I don’t divulge, Miss Lark?” He lay down on the bed at her side.
“Why would you want to be strapped, Lord Sommersby? Why do men like punishment?”
He levered up on his arm and teasingly tugged a raven curl. “Because our young governesses mete it out on us when we’re impressionable boys.”
She rolled onto her side, so casually naked with him it took his breath away.
“I should think your governesses must have had a terrible time.”
He didn’t want to tell her the truth—that his first had strapped him with abandon and his second had awoken in the night and gone down to find his father and he laying a cadaver on the drawing room floor. She had run through the house screaming. There had been no third.
He reached out, gently pinched first her right nipple, then her left. A soft tug on her velvety nipple and she squealed for him. “Jonathon!”
Bending to her breast, he flicked his tongue over creamy skin, spiraling down toward the peak.
Her heard her breath hitch in anticipation.
He should be back in his laboratory, trying to save her life, trying to find his father’s journals, trying to find a way to stop her transformation.
Flushed, panting, she rolled onto her back, and he followed, her sweet breast in his mouth.
Braced on his arms, he moved over her. His senses filled with her—the luscious taste of her nipple, the throaty beauty of her moans, the scent of her sweat, her juices, her lovely skin.
He couldn’t leave her now. Not now.
Jonathon skimmed his hand over the lush curve of her hip, his heart thrumming with a desire so strong he suspected it could kill him.
As his hand slid between her thighs, Serena parted her legs. She wanted him inside her again.
She ached for him so much. All six-and-a-half glorious feet of him moved between her legs. She marveled at the sight of his huge muscles bunching, rippling beneath his lovely skin. No doubt he was grinning with such pride because he saw her look of rapture.
She touched his jaw, letting her palm skim the lean ridge, savoring the softness of his skin, the tickle of his stubble, and all the while he stirred the entrance of her quim with his cock. Desire had turned her mind to a puddle of candle wax, but she focused on one word. Hero. Jonathon, Lord Sommersby was most definitely a hero. He had saved a young girl, he had dedicated his life to rescuing the innocent, he had promised to save her.
Heart tight, aching, she wrapped her legs around his hips. Her heels rested on his tight buttocks.
She was so utterly soaked that his cock slid in on one thrust.
“Do you know what I really want?” he rasped on his first long, slow thrust.
Exquisite pleasure roared through her as her inner walls parted for him. He pumped deep into her, bumping her womb with each thrust.
“Harder,” she gasped. She wanted him to pound into her. She wanted his groin striking hers, his cock driving impossibly deep—
Breathless, she gasped, “Your…answer…what…do…you…like?”
“I’m a man of privilege but I have simple tastes, love. And what I like is being deep inside you.” He paused, buried deep within her, his lips an inch from hers. “And your legs around my neck.”
“Yes,” she gasped.
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bent over, her quim tilted up in the air as though presented as a gift.
He linked his hands in hers and he thrust inside again. Oh, he could go deep this way, so deep he was touching her soul. Each expert thrust teased, each jolt of his hips hit her throbbing, stinging clit—
God, yes.
A demonic possession seemed to take her. She wanted him to be rough, to lose his control, to pound hard. And she wanted to come. She tried to thrust up to him; she wriggled to saw her clit against his shaft.
He pinned her hands and plunged in and out, over and over—
Ecstasy exploded like a fork of lightning, like a bolt of magic. Her nails drove into his palms.
She screamed his name, banged his shoulders with her heels, arched up to tear at his neck with her teeth.
Jonathon came too, his body ravaged by it. “Serena, sweet Serena—”
He collapsed on top of her, supported on his arms, and he bowed his head over her chest.
She fell back, panting. Shocked by what she’d done. How could she be sweet? She’d scraped her teeth viciously over his skin. He hadn’t cared. He’d liked it.
He bent and kissed the tip of her nose. Gently nuzzled her lips. “It was the climax, Serena.
When you come, you lose control—of inhibitions, of fears, of rules.”
She shut her eyes. “I hurt your neck.”
“You didn’t. They were love nips. That’s all,” Jonathon reassured.
He hated to see her look so troubled, so shocked—even with her eyes closed and her long lashes brushing her cheeks, she was obviously appalled by what she’d done.
More pleasure was in order. To ease her fears, her worries.
“I can’t make love again for a while, not yet,” he murmured. “But you can enjoy as many climaxes as you can bear.” With that, he buried his face between her thighs—he’d never done this, never devoured a woman afterward. Her taste and his exploded on his tongue, ripe and earthy.
Their pleasure combined.
She trembled as he nuzzled her clit, so gently, with infinite care. He guessed how sensitive she must be—hell, he was in exquisite agony after a climax. Her toes brushed his shoulders, stroked.
She was caressing him, touching him, any way she could.
He plunged his tongue deep into her cunny so his lips pressed against her nether ones—the most intimate kiss. And now to send her to ecstasy once more—
To his surprise, she jolted beneath him on the third lick of her engorged clit. Her hips arched, her hands clenched. She fell back, gave the softest, prettiest “oh” and a luxurious sigh. “I came again but it was so different—like a gentle wave washing through my body.”
“Roll over,” she whispered huskily. “I wish to taste you.”
Roll over—?
She coaxed him onto his stomach and he obeyed. Exhausted, he splayed his arms out, and his weak legs were parted. Warmth and wetness touched his low back. He twisted around to be met by the most erotic, astonishing sight.
Serena held back her long curls as she licked the hollow of his low back. Her small, pink tongue danced over his skin. He forgot to breathe as she shifted to straddle him. She bent once more, and her hair poured over him like a wave. With her soft tongue, she traced his spine down to his tailbone. Pleasure vibrated through his head, combined with shock. What was she doing?
She glanced up and winked.
Winked.
Her tongue slide down between the cheeks of his arse. Shock had them clenched tight, and she tried to pry them apart.
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“Serena—”
She shook her head, and he saw her eyes crinkle in a saucy smile. Christ Jesus.
A sweet sound of pleasure spilled from her as her tongue stroked the valley of his ass. He couldn’t believe she was doing this. It felt so bloody good.
How could she know to do this? He’d never done it. He’d never even licked a woman’s derriere. And her tongue touching his puckered anus was magical sin. Her tongue circled his rim, pushed into his ass.
Her tongue slicked against his sensitive walls. Slid deeper, deeper, in the most unbelievable caress. He was spent. Utterly sated. His cock half-limp. But he felt the rush of blood to that exhausted organ, felt the wash of pleasure.
She thrust her tongue
Lord!
Intense screaming sensations shot from his arse, through his ballocks, and a climax roared through him. He had nothing to shoot, but his brain still dissolved in ecstasy, his heart burst in his chest, and he tore his teeth into his pillow as he came.
Jonathon rolled over, intending to capture Serena in a kiss. He couldn’t believed she had touched him that way. Dazed, he saw her drinking a glass of wine. She swirled it in her mouth and spit it into the basin. He felt a jolt of guilt, but she smiled. “You taste very intriguing.”
“Come here, sweeting. Let me do that to you.”
But she went to the window, pulled the curtains aside, and threw up the sash. The cool October wind spilled in, whispering through her hair, tossing the inky black strands against her pale neck.
“Close it, Serena. We can’t give Lukos an entrance.”
She took a long breath, her breasts lifting. “I need the night air, now. The moonlight,” she admitted in a vulnerable whisper.
“I know.” He watched her lean out the window, shut her eyes, and take a deep breath. It was dangerous, but he couldn’t deny her the pleasure.
She drew back suddenly and Jonathon bolted upright. He grasped the stake from the bedside table and sprang off the bed.
Moonlight poured in and a shadow flew inside. Jonathon grabbed Serena’s arm and pulled her back as the shadow transformed. Into Drake Swift, naked and illuminated by a wash of silver-blue light.
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“Who do you prefer, my love?”
Serena gasped at Drake’s blunt question as he strolled nude, and utterly unconcerned, through Jonathon’s bedchamber.
“I thought you’d be alive,” Jonathon growled. He still held the stake, and her at his side. His arm wrapped possessively around her waist.
“And I thought you would poach on my preserve the first chance you got,” Drake snapped.
She caught her breath as Drake walked up to her. He swept his gaze over her naked, flushed body and bowed over her hand.