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She moaned and fisted his jacket, pulling him even closer. Her hands flexed, then she slid them around his neck while her mouth responded with sensual greed. She breathed in his kiss as he gripped her hips, lifted her and strode to the bed.

He sat on the edge with her knees straddling his hips, pulling her wetness onto his straining cock, damping the front of his pants. Saieke bucked and shuddered, her hips undulating instinctively.

A snarl hissed out from his throat at the latent sensuality urging him to fuck her.

She froze, and apprehension flavored her chakra.

He fought to slow his intensity.

Their lips separated, and both breathed raggedly.

“Do not stop,” she moaned uncertainty and need flickering in her eyes. “I feel achy and there is a throb between my thighs.”

“I will not fuck you,” he grounded.

Her eyes widened, and he clenched his teeth against the rumble building in his chest. More wetness wetted his cock through his trousers as she reacted to his words.

He licked her lips.

“Your eyes…they have taken on a serpentine cast.”

“My beast,” he murmured, and smoky tendrils swirled and enveloped them.

As if impatient, she rolled her hips, and this time he could not control his groan. The minx smiled.

“Why won’t you fuck me?”

The crude words from her glistening lips tugged at the savage urges beating in his blood. Drac struggled for control as her scent wrapped around his senses. His beast paced in the cage of his mind, wanting to devour instead of seduce. A red haze of lust tested his restraint as he became immersed with the need of his darkness.

Ours, his beast hissed inside, voice guttural with arousal.

He trailed his hands down between her legs and probed. She trembled as his fangs extended and raked against her neck. His beast inhaled the lust riding her, and he felt its shudder deep in his mind. Drac flexed his hand and ran his fingers inside her pussy, the soft heated silkiness testing his control. He rubbed around her slipperiness until he found her clit, which he circled firmly. She grew wetter, her moans hotter, and her hips struggled to undulate against the grip he had on them.

“Drac,” she moaned, voice husky with lust, her fingers gripping his hair tightly.

&nb

sp; He pushed a finger deep, and kissed her to the rhythm of his finger slowly fucking her.

She was wet, tight and perfect.

She returned his kiss passionately, turning to molten liquid in his hands. He dragged his lips away from hers and ran them roughly down her throat, his fangs, which he had retracted, burst out almost out of his control. He tried to insert another finger in her but she flinched and bit his neck hard, drawing forth blood.

Drac nipped back at her neck but did not press her. He growled as she was too fucking tight. He thrust his finger inside her, pressing on her nub, and he plunged his fangs deep into her throat as she bucked and clamped down on him as an orgasm claimed her.

She was fucking perfect…and the most dangerous woman he’d ever encountered.

***

Rapture ripped through Saieke. She screamed in shock, and pleasure, as fangs plunged into her. Fire lanced at her neck as he groaned deeply, and dark delight rose inside her. The violence of the arousal simmering from his chakra made her heart bump painfully against her ribs. She did not know what she was waiting for, but the keen knife-edge of suspension sliced through her. The tendrils of his chakra caressed her back, the globes of her bottom, and the back of her knees delicately—the pleasure sharp and alarming.

He slipped his finger from inside her but left his hand between her legs, cupping her possessively. She whimpered as his fangs slid from her throat, and a warm trickle ran from her neck to her breast. Saieke looked down, watching her blood, red and vibrant, trailed from her breast to stomach.

“Drac,” she said, hating the aroused confusion, yet her body stirred in answer to the lust and possession stamped on his face. His eyes had taken on a deeper serpentine cast, and there were flickers of red. His fangs were fully extended and he looked…well he looked scary.

“This is but one of the reasons I must resist you,” his low growl was dark and rich. “You are not made for the kind of lover I am. I want to fuck you hard…feel the press of your nails against my back, and when you cry, unable to take me, I won’t stop…because I will love your pain.”

Her blood still flowed, and he ran his hands over her neck, stomach, and breast, painting her body crimson. His hands left fire in its wake as pleasure and hazy confusion beat inside of Saieke. He cupped her breast, pinching, caressing her nipples to heighten her arousal.


Tags: Stacy Reid The Amagarians Fantasy