“God, yes,” I moaned, not caring how that sounded.
Bones released his control with obvious relish. His hips ground into mine with a tempered savageness that was the most incredible pleasure ever inflicted on my body. The screams I’d held back spilled forth in rhythmic shouts that spurred him on. When I couldn’t stand it any harder, he moved faster, thrusting in a manner that would have been merciless had I not reveled in it.
Somehow it reminded me of the effect of the drugs. Everything seemed to spin and lose shape except Bones. That far-off roaring was back in my ears, but it was my heart pounding that made the sound. The nerve endings in my loins shredded with anticipation. They lashed and wound together, clenching and unclenching with greater fierceness, waiting for the moment when they would snap.
At once I was disconnected and hypersensitive of my body. This panting, twisting creature on the bed couldn’t be me. Yet never before had I been so aware of my skin, my every breath, and the blood rushing through my veins. Before the last stretched nerve inside me broke, Bones grasped my head and stared into my eyes. A cry wrenched out of my mouth when the dam burst and the flood of orgasm swept over me. It was stronger than the first one, deeper somehow, and left residual tingles pulsating underneath my skin.
Above me he groaned, face twisting in ecstasy as he drove into me even more rapidly with his eyes locked onto mine. I couldn’t look away, seeing his control evaporate inside the green depths. He clutched me as he gave in to the passion, kissing me almost bruisingly and shuddering for several moments.
When I broke away to breathe, he shifted until we lay side by side. His arms coiled around me, keeping our bodies touching. There didn’t seem to be enough oxygen in my lungs and even Bones breathed once or twice—a record, from what I’d seen before. By degrees I controlled my gasping and my heart settled into a nondangerous rhythm. He reached out and pushed the damp hair from my face, smiling before he kissed my forehead.
“And to think you actually believed something was wrong with you.”
“Something is wrong with me, I can’t move.”
It was true. Lying next to him, my arms and legs just wouldn’t respond to any of the commands I gave them. My brain had a back in five minutes sign hung on it, apparently.
He grinned and leaned over to lick the nipple closest to him, drawing lightly on it. The areola was oversensitive from his previous attentions, and a thousand tiny needles of pleasure rushed to the tip. When it crested to the very threshold of sensitivity he stopped, repeating the process with the next one.
Something caught my vision when I glanced down.
“Am I bleeding?” I asked in surprise.
It didn’t quite seem like blood and my period was a week away. Still, there was a distinct pink wetness on the crease of my inner high.
He barely stopped to look. “No, luv. That’s from me.”
“What is—? Oh.” Stupid question. He’d told me before that vampires cried pink. Guess the other fluids followed suit.
“Let me up, I’ll wash off.”
“I don’t mind.” He breathed the words into my skin. “It’s mine, after all. I’ll clean you up.”
“Aren’t you going to roll over and go to sleep?” Wasn’t that what usually happened? Unless he really, really liked to cuddle afterward, things were taking a markedly serious turn as his hand moved lower, seeking my depths.
He ceased his ministrations to laugh, raising his head from my breasts.
“Kitten”—he smiled—“I am far from sleepy.” The look in his eyes sent a shiver through me. “You have no idea how many times I’ve fantasized about you like this. During our training, our fights, the nights I’ve seen you dressed up and pawed at by other men…” Bones stopped speaking to kiss me so deeply, I almost forgot what we were talking about. “And all the while seeing you look at me with fear whenever I touched you. No, I am not sleepy. Not until I’ve tasted every inch of your skin and made you scream over and over again.”
He bent his head to my nipples once more, sucking them and worrying them with his teeth. The way his fangs rubbed the areolas was frighteningly erotic.
“One day I’m going to find that old bloke of yours and kill him,” he muttered, so low I could barely hear him.
“What?” Did he just say that?
A strong tug from his mouth distracted me, and then another and another, until my concerns melted away under the sensual assault on my nipples. After a while he looked at them and smiled in satisfaction.
“Dark red, both of them. Just like I promised you they’d get. See? I am a man of my word.”
Confusion clouded my mind for a second. Then I remembered that afternoon with him trying to burn the embarrassment out of me with hours of dirty talk, and color suddenly flamed in my face.