“I’m going to come… Rev… oh, Rev… yes.” She cried out, going taut as shudder after shudder racked her body.
Now would be the time when he should flip the sitch, throw her on her back and dive into her. Or slip out from under her, shove her head into the pillow and lift her hips, and drive into her from behind, his balls slapping her wet sex with every hard thrust.
But he couldn’t touch her. He nearly howled with frustration as her gasps of pleasure ebbed. Her legs trembled as she scooted back and sank heavily onto his abdomen. Gods, she was beautiful as she looked down at him, hair wild, her face flushed and glistening with a fine sheen of sweat, her eyes glazed with pleasure, her swollen lips parted as she panted.
“Let me touch you now,” he growled.
Leaning forward, her hair falling like a curtain around them, she brushed her mouth over his. “No.”
“Sweetheart, you have one hell of a cruel streak.”
She smiled and started a slow slide down his body, her mouth kissing a red-hot trail as she went. Closing his eyes, he let her body caress him, the skin on skin turning his body into a hypersensitive sex toy he wished she’d hurry up and ride.
As she inched lower, her warmth engulfed his erection as it slid between her plump folds. The sudden sensation rocked him hard, jacking his entire body off the bed as he tried to penetrate her. But she would have none of that, and even as he arched his hips upward, she eased backward, breaking contact.
“Blaspheme.” His voice was a combination of snarly and needy. “You’re playing with fire.”
“Good,” she said with a naughty wink. “Because it’s cold in here.”
“Fuck.” He threw his head back on the pillow, pressing his palms into his thighs, willing himself to stay in control. To not circle that waist with his hands, hold her steady, and impale her with his painfully hard cock.
“Hmm.” Rolling her bottom lip between her teeth, she teased him by tracing the veins in his shaft with her finger. “Was that an invitation?”
“Yes,” he ground out. “An invitation. An order. A motherfucking plea. Call it what you want, just fuck me.”
“Show me your fangs.”
Instant fangage. He’d show her his freaking liver if she’d just make him come. Reaching out, she touched the tip of a canine.
“Vampire fangs are erogenous zones,” she purred. “They can even come if you stroke their fangs long enough.”
“So?” The idea of her fang-jerking some bloodsucker made him want to slaughter the next vampire he saw. Another finger joined the first, and Revenant found himself getting his first FJ.
“So… is it the same with fallen angels?”
As if his erection was the one getting stroked, he felt the orgasm building in his balls.
“Apparently,” he gasped, gripping his cock again and squeezing until the pain overrode the pleasure. Holy shit, when he finally came, he was going to make a fire hose look like a squirt gun.
“Interesting.”
“Interesting?” he croaked. “You know what would be interesting? If you’d let me touch you.”
“And why’s that?”
His control was slipping. He felt it in the way his heart was beating against his rib cage and his hands were clenched to the point of bleeding. He heard it in the guttural tone of his voice. Tasted it in the blood from his bitten tongue. Smelled it in the arousal that mingled with hers.
“Because I would have you up against that wall, my hands pinning yours so you’d know how this feels, and I would rail you so hard you’d feel me for a month. And after we both came, I’d have you on the floor, pulling a sixty-nine that wouldn’t end until I tasted a dozen of your orgasms. Before you could even think about recovering, I’d fuck you in every way a male can fuck a female. And I wouldn’t stop. Not until you begged.” He slammed his fists into the mattress. “Damn it, Blaspheme, I need to be inside you.” He sucked in a harsh breath. “Let me… inside you.”
Her eyes flared, and for the first time, he understood how False Angels truly lured males. Not with seduction, but with innocence. She was wide-eyed but breathing hard, quivering delicately but coating his shaft in her arousal. Every male instinct inside him screamed to take her, and to do it hard and fast, and then again, slowly, thoroughly. He wanted to learn every inch of her body and how each inch responded to him. He wanted to teach her what made him crazy, and then he wanted to wipe every other male from her memory.
And what the hell was he thinking? This was the False Angel magic at work, because it sure as fuck wasn’t his own brain throwing out all that crazy shit. He’d never wanted to claim a female for himself. Sure, he’d had casual lovers, more than he could count. But the moment he started looking forward to seeing a lover was the moment he checked out of the relationship.
Hell, if he’d been in this position with Blaspheme just a month ago, he doubted he’d be so infatuated. No, he didn’t doubt. He knew. Her ethics and goodness would have repelled him like DEET repelled mosquitoes. But with his returned memories had come new emotions, regrets, and pain, and somehow Blaspheme was tapping into that, making him want more than just sex… when it was clear she only wanted sex.
Blaspheme’s breath heaved in and out, her breasts rising and falling as if beckoning his touch. He reached for her —
No!
His entire body shook with the force it took to stop his hands. Holy hell, his control had slipped to nothing. She’d set down a rule, and he had been about to break it. He trembled harder, but then warm, soft hands gripped his cock and stroked up and down, working together to massage him into compliance.