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Then he sucked the spot he'd pierced three days ago. The punctures had healed, but shards of erotic sensation coalesced under his mouth as if reminding me how good his fangs felt buried there. I'd gripped his head and stood on tiptoe to press him closer before I realized what I'd done.

Another chuckle, more darkly possessive than amused. "I told you you'd crave my bite." Then the graze of sharp teeth. "Is this what you want?"

It was, and between the taunting strokes of his fangs and his ruthlessly knowing hands, I could barely stay upright. Desire melted my bones to candle wax, and the wetness between my legs was from more than the shower spray, but the sensual triumph in his tone stirred something primal in me. Yes, he'd made me crave his bite, his kiss, and other things I could never have from him, but I refused to be the only one drowning in need.

I sank to my knees, grasping his hardened flesh with my left hand. I'd never done this before, but I'd seen it through the eyes of other people and it seemed basic enough. I closed my mouth over the tip of his shaft, running my tongue along heated flesh that was smoother than velvet, yet hard as marble. Something between a groan and a hiss sounded above me, and then his hand brushed my cheek.

"Don't stop."

The words were a command; his tone wasn't. It resonated with the intensity of a plea, probably the closest I'd ever come to hearing Vlad say please. Inwardly, I smiled. Who had what the other person wanted now?

His laughter ended on a harsh note as I took him deeper, tasting the faint, not unpleasant tang of soap. My teeth pressed against him from his girth, tongue curving along that rigid flesh as I encased him until I had to stop despite there being more. The cold water made me shiver, but Vlad's warm thighs pressed against my br**sts, his scorching hands twisted in my hair, and my mouth was filled with his pulsing, hot length, making those parts of me deliciously burn. Always extremes with Vlad, but right now, I wouldn't have it any other way.

I withdrew my mouth with the same slowness he'd used the first time we made love, things low in me clenching with the memory. Then I encased him again to the accompaniment of another rasping groan. He sounded the same way when he was inside me, and my body responded. My br**sts felt heavier, my ni**les puckered to hypersensitivity, and my loins swelled while wetness slicked my inner thighs. That arousal made me move my head a little faster, draw on him harder. His grip on my hair tightened while that faint tang of soap changed to something salty.

"Yes. Like that."

His voice was almost guttural, and the next thing he muttered wasn't in English. I increased the pace and pressure, and the space between those harsh moans became shorter while he swelled even bigger in my mouth. His hips rocked against me, that firm grip on my head exciting because it was reminiscent of how tightly I clutched him when he went down on me. I wanted him to feel that same out-of-control passion so I pressed closer, sucked harder, moaning myself as his thighs rubbed my br**sts to tease my ni**les. Saliva escaped to coat the parts I couldn't fit as I moved even faster, my thighs clenching as the throbbing between my legs became unbearably intense.

Suddenly, I was off my knees and in his arms. The tile chilled my back as he yanked my legs around his waist and pressed me against the shower wall. Then his mouth crushed onto mine, muffling my groan at the feel of him against that aching part of me. A deep thrust made every nerve ending flare with blinding pleasure, tearing something very close to a scream from me. I was so wet that he slid in to the hilt, and when he began to withdraw, I shoved against him in wordless demand for more.

I felt him smile wide enough that for an instant, I kissed only his teeth. Then he arched forward so strongly that his pelvis ground against my clitoris, the friction sending more rapture spiraling through me. I whimpered into his mouth, rocking against him, my thighs tightening on his waist and my arms lashed around his neck. Each cleave of his flesh amplified the pleasure, contracting invisible strings inside me until I felt like my body thrummed from ecstasy. Kissing him was a drug I never wanted free from, but when I began to get light-headed, I broke away to gulp in air.

He untangled my right hand from around his neck, bringing it to his mouth. "Look at me, Leila."

I hadn't been aware of closing my eyes, but as some point, I must have. I slit them open, my breath catching. Vlad's hair plastered to his shoulders in wet, dark sections, his muscles bunched with every moan-inducing thrust, and his eyes blazed so brightly that it was like looking at the sun. That stare held me more securely than his arm under my hips as he turned my hand over and then bit into the fleshy mound beneath my thumb.

The sound that came from me was almost animalistic. That was how he made me feel-feral, uninhibited-and as heat slid down my arm to slowly spread through the rest of me, those feelings grew. I needed more of his bite, his touch, his body, and especially the fierce emotion in his gaze as he swallowed my blood, and I needed it now.

That was why I whimpered in protest when, all too soon, he withdrew his fangs and released my hand.

"Your turn," he said throatily.

Then he bit into his wrist deep enough to leave a gash before holding it to my mouth. Still lost in that primordial state, I swallowed without hesitation, not minding the harsh coppery taste because it was his blood. I licked until every drop was gone and the wound closed on itself. Once it did, he bit his wrist again. This time, I was the one who pulled it to my lips, sucking strongly as I stared at him.

The smile he flashed me was lust at its most savage. His movements became harder, faster, turning my moans into sharp cries. When his wound closed a second time, I let his wrist go and yanked his head down to mine. His tongue invaded my mouth with the same sensual brutality as his thrusts, and I met both with equal fervor. If he hadn't positioned his hands behind my head and hips, the tile behind me might have cracked from how fiercely he drove into me, but I didn't care. His blood slid like fire through my veins, filling me with even more wildness. Nothing existed except this moment, and as my whole body shuddered from the overload of ecstasy, I didn't even notice the cold anymore. All I felt was heat, inside and out.

Chapter 37

I'd assumed Vlad would accompany me on every scouting mission, but he didn't. Sometimes, he sent me to one vampire's house while he went to another and brought back items for me to touch. It took me days to figure out why. He was sending me to allies least likely to betray him, taking on the riskier vampires himself. In that way, he kept his promise to broaden the search for Marty while still protecting me from situations he considered too dangerous.


Tags: Jeaniene Frost Night Prince Vampires