Sophia by D. B. Reynolds

snarled.
    Raphael lost the effort not to laugh, capturing her in his arms before she could explode. He pushed her up against the wall, trapping her there with his greater bulk, letting his erection play between her silky thighs. “An exaggeration, my Cyn. Are you jealous?”
    “In your dreams, fang boy.”
    “In my dreams,” he purred next to her ear. “There is no one between my legs but you, lubimaya .”
    “Smart move since I’m the one lying next to you while you sleep.”
    “It’s late, sweet Cyn, or I’d give you a demonstration of my dreams,” he said, pretending exhaustion, leaning heavily against her, maneuvering them both away from the wall until they tumbled onto the bed. And then, with a quick, sure move, he looped a big hand over her hip and snugged her beneath him, leaning down to nuzzle her soft neck.
    “I thought you were tired,” she murmured, as his fingers found their way over the smooth skin of her flat belly and pushed her thighs open to delve into the velvet folds between them.
    “I seem to have caught a second wind,” he teased.
    Her heart was pounding against his chest, her breath warm puffs of air as she gripped his shoulders and her nails dug into his flesh. “Raphael,” she gasped, arching up against him as he slipped one finger, then two, deep inside her. She lifted her hips, thrusting against his hand and spreading her legs wider, urging him deeper into her sweet, hot center, smooth as satin and soaking wet—eager for his touch, for his invasion. He groaned, knowing there was, in truth, too little time, though his cock strained painfully, eager to bury itself in the volcanic heat of her luscious body.
    Cyn mewed softly, wanting more, rubbing herself against his hand, tightening her fingers in his hair and holding his mouth against her neck in invitation. Raphael pressed his tongue against the juicy swell of her jugular, but didn’t take her, not yet. Grinning at her groan of frustration, he licked his way downward, dipping into the arch of her collar bone and down further until he captured her nipple in his mouth, biting gently. She cried out, hooking her leg around his hip, fucking herself against his fingers. Without warning, he slid a third finger inside her and began plunging in and out, mimicking the action his cock was hungry for, taking pleasure in the slick heat of her, in the trembling of her muscles, the small, hungry noises she was making as her hips pumped up and down, her breath coming in gasps as she whispered his name over and over again, a prayer for release.
    And still he waited, waited until she was all but screaming his name, until she was clenched so tight around his fingers that he could barely move his hand. He scraped his thumb lightly across her clit, circling it once, twice and a third time before caressing it fully, rubbing back and forth until her entire body spasmed beneath him, her silken walls convulsing, her nipples so hard he could feel them like warm, smooth stones against his chest. She sucked in a keening breath, the air trapped in her lungs by the sheer magnitude of her orgasm. He lifted his head and sank his fangs into her neck, the rush of warm, sweet blood filling his mouth as she climaxed again and her scream of passion filled his ears. He held her tightly, reveling in the taste of her as she shuddered beneath him, her inner muscles trembling around his fingers as he stroked her over and over again, her body jolting as if shocked every time his thumb caressed her swollen clit.
    When at last she lay limp, her arms clinging to him weakly, he retracted his fangs and licked the small wound closed. Crooning wordless sounds of comfort, he pulled his fingers gently from within the still trembling depths of her body, the juices of her orgasm coating his fingers and trailing across her abdomen as he wrapped his hand around her bare hip and tucked her closer in the safety of his arms.
    “I owe you a blow job,” she murmured, already half asleep as