before he could touch the small of her back.
At last! Worth the three hundred years of waiting. My fated female drinks of me. She tastes me. She needs me.
The warm elixir, his life force, moved over Anne’s tongue and filled the caverns of her soul. What she drank almost didn’t taste like blood, but rather like a fine brandy, laced with something else that was more emotion than taste. She felt every cell of her body plump up with the vitality of his liquid, then scream for more. She felt places that had withered and her body and soul suddenly become alive and supple.
She slowed down the taking to make it last and found that she could savor him. She moved one knee across his lap, which lightly grazed across his bulging pants. His shaft came alive with the stimulation. He groaned and pressed his cheek to hers. She straddled him and very carefully set herself down, placing her sex just above his. She tingled where her mound touched his erection.
She inhaled one more time and took the last bits and found, with relief, she could stop without draining him. This was the first time she had been satisfied without taking life. Nothing had ever felt better.
She kissed the two holes in his skin. A tear came to her eye at the sight of the damage she’d caused him. He pulled her with both his hands face to him, then rubbed the tears from her cheeks. His mouth came over hers. She sighed into his kiss.
“Oh, God. Thank you. That was so wonderful,” she whispered, “I never knew about this.”
His serious eyes almost looked sad. “It has been a long time since I first had this dream. You have no idea how wonderful it is to have my female love the taste of me.”
He put his hands at her hips, then moved her over his crotch, watching her. She let him, and let him slide one hand up under her stretchy top. His fingers brushed across her nipples, which hardened and knotted under the flimsy fabric of her bra. She arched up at his touch. She drew close to an orgasm. Every part of her body was more sensitive than ever before.
He withdrew his hand. “I’ve made you a promise. I will keep it.”
“Yes, thank you.” Anne looked down. Somehow, she had become shy.
“With my blood inside you, you will experience strong erotic dreams tonight.”
Anne knew exactly what he meant. She was starting to feel the sexual intensity coming already. But there was no desire for anyone but this man before her. Just an empty room. Waiting. Waiting to be filled with the scent and body of this man.
She bent down and kissed him again. He slid a finger up her thigh to the front of her panties, then rubbed her through the thin fabric. He could have dipped a finger or two under the elastic at the leg and felt her sex, but his hand remained still. He started to remove his hand, but she held him there, rubbing his hand against the thin fabric of her panties. But he did not violate the trust, even though he must have understood she would not deny him. He pulled her back from the brink.
“Someday, Anne, you will be mine in every sense of the word. Until then, you can take me as often as you like. Drink only from me. I don’t want you in the company of strange men. It is safer this way.” His finger continued to rub her sex. “I promise I won’t hurt you. I will protect you and the man they call your husband. But drink only from me, promise?” He removed his hand and held her face. “Promise me?”
“I promise.”
Chapter 10
Marcus drank his best red wine and warmed himself by the fireplace in his study, alone. The flames soothed his nerves. He saw her face coming to him, rising above him as she felt the power of his passion coursing through her veins. He hadn’t wanted to take her home, but he’d promised not to interfere until he was given permission.
He felt the red bumps at the side of his neck where Anne had bitten him, noting that the swelling was going down. He almost wished the wound wouldn’t heal, but rather stay in all
At last! Worth the three hundred years of waiting. My fated female drinks of me. She tastes me. She needs me.
The warm elixir, his life force, moved over Anne’s tongue and filled the caverns of her soul. What she drank almost didn’t taste like blood, but rather like a fine brandy, laced with something else that was more emotion than taste. She felt every cell of her body plump up with the vitality of his liquid, then scream for more. She felt places that had withered and her body and soul suddenly become alive and supple.
She slowed down the taking to make it last and found that she could savor him. She moved one knee across his lap, which lightly grazed across his bulging pants. His shaft came alive with the stimulation. He groaned and pressed his cheek to hers. She straddled him and very carefully set herself down, placing her sex just above his. She tingled where her mound touched his erection.
She inhaled one more time and took the last bits and found, with relief, she could stop without draining him. This was the first time she had been satisfied without taking life. Nothing had ever felt better.
She kissed the two holes in his skin. A tear came to her eye at the sight of the damage she’d caused him. He pulled her with both his hands face to him, then rubbed the tears from her cheeks. His mouth came over hers. She sighed into his kiss.
“Oh, God. Thank you. That was so wonderful,” she whispered, “I never knew about this.”
His serious eyes almost looked sad. “It has been a long time since I first had this dream. You have no idea how wonderful it is to have my female love the taste of me.”
He put his hands at her hips, then moved her over his crotch, watching her. She let him, and let him slide one hand up under her stretchy top. His fingers brushed across her nipples, which hardened and knotted under the flimsy fabric of her bra. She arched up at his touch. She drew close to an orgasm. Every part of her body was more sensitive than ever before.
He withdrew his hand. “I’ve made you a promise. I will keep it.”
“Yes, thank you.” Anne looked down. Somehow, she had become shy.
“With my blood inside you, you will experience strong erotic dreams tonight.”
Anne knew exactly what he meant. She was starting to feel the sexual intensity coming already. But there was no desire for anyone but this man before her. Just an empty room. Waiting. Waiting to be filled with the scent and body of this man.
She bent down and kissed him again. He slid a finger up her thigh to the front of her panties, then rubbed her through the thin fabric. He could have dipped a finger or two under the elastic at the leg and felt her sex, but his hand remained still. He started to remove his hand, but she held him there, rubbing his hand against the thin fabric of her panties. But he did not violate the trust, even though he must have understood she would not deny him. He pulled her back from the brink.
“Someday, Anne, you will be mine in every sense of the word. Until then, you can take me as often as you like. Drink only from me. I don’t want you in the company of strange men. It is safer this way.” His finger continued to rub her sex. “I promise I won’t hurt you. I will protect you and the man they call your husband. But drink only from me, promise?” He removed his hand and held her face. “Promise me?”
“I promise.”
Chapter 10
Marcus drank his best red wine and warmed himself by the fireplace in his study, alone. The flames soothed his nerves. He saw her face coming to him, rising above him as she felt the power of his passion coursing through her veins. He hadn’t wanted to take her home, but he’d promised not to interfere until he was given permission.
He felt the red bumps at the side of his neck where Anne had bitten him, noting that the swelling was going down. He almost wished the wound wouldn’t heal, but rather stay in all
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