Bring Me to Life by Emma Weylin Page A

mouth closed over the tight tip of her breast. She needed him just as much. Her back arched. He pressed one hand into the small of her back, holding her exactly the way he wanted her. His mouth slid over her trembling body until she couldn’t remember her name.
    He lowered her to the bed, his sienna gaze on hers. He touched his lips to the center of her breasts as he gingerly worked her jeans off. Bryna slid off her panties. He skimmed his fingers down the inside of her thigh. His smoldering gaze met hers, and a smile curved wickedly on his mouth. He casually shucked his pants and then climbed onto the bed between her legs.
    He leaned down to let his mouth intoxicate her. She squirmed under him, her hips moving up to meet what he kept just out of reach. He chuckled softly and then looped a powerful arm around her, lifting her hips to the angle he wanted them.
    She was expecting a forceful, primal joining. But Vincent was slow and hypnotic in his movements. He sank into her as if he’d always been her perfect fit. Her body clenched tight around him, and then his eyes closed in bliss as a groan rumbled in his chest. He moved inside of her with slow, meaningful strokes. He opened his eyes and kept them locked on hers as his thrusts grew more powerful until she was quaking around him.
    “Come for me, my love,” he whispered.
    And she did. Her body wound tight and everything threatened to shatter her, and then it did.
    *
    Vincent groaned with the exquisiteness of the release he’d needed for the last two hundred years. He held himself above her, afraid to move until his vision came back to him. He gave her a lazy grin. Tears were streaming down her face.
    Of course. Everything he did made her cry.
    He leaned down and kissed her eyelids and then rolled onto his side, hauling her up against him. His arms banded tightly around her, and he lightly nuzzled her collarbone while she sniffled and trembled against him.
    “Vincent?”
    “Yeah?” He pulled back enough to see her face.
    “I”—her voice trailed off, and she tucked her head up under his chin—“needed you.”
    “I know,” he murmured softly. He stroked along the length of her hair and shifted so the whole of her body was touching the whole of his. Felix was making a lot of mistakes lately. There wasn’t any force in Heaven or in Hell that was going to take her away from him again. Her life was his responsibility, and he was going to make sure she never only existed again.
    * * * *
    Bryna woke snuggled into the hard body of a man with the tips of his fingers skimming along her spine. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this rested, and she was afraid to open her eyes, but she cracked one open anyway to make sure she hadn’t been dreaming.
    There he was—Vincent, larger than life, only he was dead. Or was supposed to be dead. His body was warm, and she could hear the beat of his heart inside his chest. Damn. She was so confused; how could a man ten years dead feel so alive?
    “You’re awake,” he murmured in a gruff, sleepy tone.
    “I wish we could just stay like this,” she whispered. “Maybe then the vampires wouldn’t find us and you won’t have to go.”
    He wrapped his arms around her and held her skin to skin for a long time before he sat up, taking her with him. His sienna eyes moved over her before he hooked her in close and rested the side of his face on the top of her head. “Those vamps are tracking you, otherwise…” He let out a breath and kissed her forehead before setting her on the mattress and getting off the bed. “I would stay if I could, Bryna. You have to know that.”
    And she did. It was a small solace, but it helped a fraction of a percent. She’d still have his grave to go to when life got rough. That was something? Wasn’t it? Not wanting to think about his eventual departure, she slipped off the bed and collected up her clothes. “Let’s just focus on keeping me alive, and then we can figure out what