Bittersweet Magic (The Order #2)

Her mouth was suddenly dry, and she swallowed. She rolled over, came up on all fours, and crawled toward him, stopping at the edge of the bed and coming onto her knees in front of him. She looked up the line of his body, meeting his dark gaze, then reached out and stroked her finger along the length of his erection beneath the soft, supple leather.

He groaned and his head went back, his hands fisting at his side. She liked that, and she stroked again, loving the tension that stiffened his body. The zipper was right in front of her, and she toyed with it for a second, but she didn’t want to put this off any longer. After flicking open the button, she slowly lowered the zipper. He wore nothing underneath, and his shaft sprang free, almost vertical against his belly. She sat back on her heels and admired him in wondrous silence.

He was beautiful, thick and long, the head flaring and blushed pink with blood. Wet heat soaked her core at the thought of all that thrust inside her. Her hand came out, and she wrapped her fingers around him—his flesh was cool to the touch, and she squeezed so he let out another groan.

She wanted to taste him, and her head came forward, her lips parting, but he stepped back and pulled free.

“Later,” he murmured. “Right now, I need to be inside you.”

“You do?”

“Well, it’s a little hard to hide.”

He kicked off his boots and stripped off the leather pants.

Roz was impressed. She’d worn leather pants a few times, and she’d never managed to get out of them quite that quickly. It must be all the practice.

She was still kneeling on the bed, fully clothed. Piers was naked. It didn’t seem fair and besides, she was slowing things down. Grabbing the bottom of her T-shirt, she dragged it over her head and tossed it to the floor. Her bra quickly followed. She kicked off her sneakers, rolled onto her back, and wriggled out of her jeans and panties.

There, they were even.

For a second, Piers stood staring down at her, his eyes glowing with power, his hot gaze raking over her body. Then he knelt on the bed over her. She scooted back, and he crawled after her, stalking her like some great beast.

Her insides melted, her nipples tightened, and a throbbing pulse beat between her thighs. She arched her back, offering her breasts, and he lowered his head, took one swollen peak between his lips, and suckled. The pleasure shot straight to her groin and a small gasp escaped her. She threaded her fingers through his long, silky hair and held him close as her kissed her other breast. Her thighs fell open, and he shifted so one knee slid between and pushed up against her. The sensation was indescribably good, but she needed more, and she needed it soon.

If she didn’t have him inside in the next few seconds, she would go seriously insane. Might even bite him. She fisted her hand in the hair at the back of his head and tugged, and he raised his head so she could stare into his face. The expression in his eyes nearly made her come.

“Okay, enough foreplay,” she muttered. “I need you inside me.” He chuckled, and she tugged at his hair again. “Are you going to bite me?”

“Would you like me to?”

Roz had a flashback to coming apart in his arms. She wanted that again while he was deep inside. She nodded, and he smiled, revealing his fangs, as though to let her see exactly what he was. No secrets. No nasty surprises.

Then he was kissing her cheek, her lips, her ear, licking, tasting, nibbling his way closer to her throat, and despite the fact she knew there would be no pain, every nerve was taut waiting for his bite.

“Relax.” His soft voice sent shivers rippling through her. “I’ll tell you when.”

He shifted so his hips rested between her thighs, and she could feel his erection nudging at the core of her body. Her breath was coming in short, sharp gasps, and she fought for control. His hand moved between their bodies, and he opened her with skillful fingers. The tips slid over her swollen clit, and she let out a little yelp. His hands moved to grip her shoulders and hold her down—was he expecting her to fight?

“Now,” he said and in one fluid move, he pushed inside her, filling her. At the same time, he lunged, his fangs piercing her throat. And she came.

She arched her back and screamed but was held in place by his firm grip on her shoulders, his mouth at her neck, his cock lodged deep inside her.

He started to move, withdrawing almost all the way before thrusting hard into her, and all the time she could feel the dragging pull of his fangs tugging at places low down in her body.

She was out of control. Her hips thrusting with his, her legs wrapped around his waist, and she lost all concept of time and place. The pleasure was building again, spiraling.

He raised his head, releasing her throat, and his eyes glowed crimson, his mouth stained with her blood. Holding her gaze, he thrust into her, his hips grinding against her sensitive flesh, and she came again.

Each time she came back to herself, he repeated the action, spilling her over the edge. Finally, almost with relief, she felt him tense above her as he found his own release.

Afterward, he rolled onto his back, pulling her with him so she lay sprawled over his long, hard body, totally boneless. She might never move again.