Shadow's Claim

His mouth watered for her pink, glistening folds, for the shadowy little dip of her opening. He wanted to fall upon her, devour her. His fangs ached to prick her; he'd suck on her welling flesh. His c**k surged, desperate to sink into her virgin core.

When he took her luscious scent into him, he felt the beginning tremors in the base of his shaft, seed rising against his will.

About to spill? Before I'm even to kiss?

He somehow restrained himself. In an unrecognizable voice, he repeated what he'd told her the first night he'd found her: "I've had a sample of your taste, dragă mea. Now I feast. . . ."

She peeked her head up, worrying her lip. "Daciano?"

But he'd already lowered his head. When he opened his mouth and pressed it to her sex, she gasped. With his first hungry lick of her heat, he groaned, "A mea! Dulcea mea." Mine! My sweet.

She collapsed back with a moan of delight. "Yes, vampire, yes. . . ."

Her taste was indescribable; her essence was like a current ripping through him-tightening every muscle in his body, enlivening every dancing nerve.

Even as he tongued her with abandon, he somehow kept his fangs in check. Even when he opened his mouth wide to cover her, he didn't graze her tender flesh.

So long I've waited for this. He gazed up to see her reaction. Arms stretched over her head, she arched her back. Her br**sts moved sensuously, her puckered ni**les jutting toward the folly roof.

She's in love with this kiss between us, as much as I am.

Still on his knees, he rubbed his hands up her torso, possessively fondling her damp br**sts, pinning them under his palms. He licked her even harder, dipping his tongue to her opening to gather wetness, then laving her clitoris with it.

My Bride, my prize, my feast.

She threaded her fingers through his hair and rocked to his tongue. "Harder, vampire," she breathed, gone wanton with need. "Deeper."

"Bett!" He couldn't give her what she needed, couldn't penetrate her body in any way. Not with his fingers, his fangs, his cock. Frustration seized him-I want to be so deep in you, f**king you so hard! His hips instinctively thrust, but his shaft found no softness to sink into.

"Trehan," she moaned. "Please, I-I need . . ."

With a growl, he surrendered his grip on her br**sts and clutched the backs of her thighs, trapping her knees wide to get deeper with his tongue.

"Oh, my gods, yes!" Her broken cries sounded awed: "Never felt . . . it's so strong . . . you make me feel . . ."

Chapter 37

Her trembling thighs pressed against the sides of his face as her flesh began to quiver. On the very edge, she gripped the back of his head, undulating her hips up-as she tugged him down.

Even in the throes, Bettina knew that this secreted place on her body-a place no other male had ever touched-was now his.

He'd claimed it with his tongue, with his lips, with his harsh growls. And she'd surrendered it fully.

Was the vampire rasping words to her between each lick? "Tell me you'll let me . . . do anything to you!"

His fingers tightened on her thighs, urging her to answer.

"I . . . I . . ." She couldn't think. Why wouldn't she let him do anything-if it felt like this? Did he mean sex? Can't think.

Why were those words so important to him?

All she knew for certain was that she needed to dig her nails into his muscular back, to lick his skin, to grind into his kiss-

Ah, gods, his wicked tongue was everywhere. "Oh, vampire, don't stop. . . ."

As she neared her peak, pleasure dancing within reach, her mind could generate no other thought: "Coming!"

An instant later, ecstasy overwhelmed her. Scorching and boundless, it coursed through every inch of her. Back arching, she flung her arms wide-and screamed.

A fierce groan broke from his chest as he bore down on her with his mouth. Though her orgasm ebbed, he licked her even more greedily. Sounding frenzied, he delved right at the entrance to her sex, where her sheath was still spasming. Could he taste her?

Too much! Writhing beneath the iron grip of his hands on her thighs, wriggling from the lashes of his tongue, she pleaded, "Oh, stop!"

He didn't; he took her clitoris between his lips. And gently sucked.

"Ah!" Lost again.

Rippling waves inundated her. Helplessly, she surrendered to them . . . just let them come and come. . . .

Once her second release subsided, he finally began kissing up her body, rasping something in Dacian, something that sounded like a promise-or a threat. She didn't recognize the words, but she recognized the So help me . . . tone.

"Soon, Bett." She thought he grated, "As deep and hard as you need me."

Panting, she lay with her legs spread and-for blissful moments-not a care in the world. Again she felt like she was floating, yet tethered.

Gradually she came to her senses, keen to please him as well. He'd drawn back on his haunches, staring at her sex with such a fierce hunger that she almost became fearful.

With each second, he looked even more agonized. His body radiated waves of tension. "Ah, female"-he swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing-"I can see where I would kill to be."

His comment made her want to snap her knees shut, but something told her she didn't dare.

More harsh words in Dacian followed. He repeated, "A mea."

Mine?

"Vampire?" Her gaze trailed lower. His engorged shaft pulsed against his pants, the material straining.