Shadow's Claim

"If you knew . . . the thoughts running through my mind right now."

Gathering her courage, she eased up on her knees and laid one palm against his face. Such a slight touch, but he quaked from it. "Daciano, I want to reciprocate."

He choked out, "Then we're . . . in accord."

Maybe it truly wouldn't matter that she was sexually untutored. Maybe he could still enjoy her clumsy kisses. She reached for his shirt; he tore it away.

"You know I've never done this," she said distractedly, her attention fixed on the glorious muscles of his chest. I really need to sketch him.

"Dragă, you don't have to . . ." He trailed off when she reached for his pants.

"But I figure I'll make up for my lack of experience with enthusiasm."

Another groan. "If you're enthusiastic about this, I won't last long to enjoy it."

Enthusiasm did matter. She grinned up at him.

He gazed at her lips, exhaling a gust of breath. "Do you know how many times I've come while imagining those lips of yours around my shaft?"

Her brows drew together. "But you've only been blooded for a few days."

"Then you must have blooded the living hell out of me because I'm hard for you constantly. Releasing the pressure has been the only thing keeping me in check with you."

"Really?" This powerful warrior pleasured himself to fantasies of her? Bettina, the femme fatale? The idea melted away any hesitation.

She had nothing to fear from this vampire, and it might be his last night on earth. She wouldn't hold anything back. "I've imagined it too."

"I know. You wondered if I would shudder and groan if you put your mouth on me." With his vampire speed, he discarded his pants in a blur, then returned to kneel in front of her.

Between hoarse breaths, he grated, "Allow me . . . to appease your curiosity."

When Trehan knelt before her again, Bettina didn't immediately gaze at his rampant shaft as he'd expected.

She rose up on her knees in front of him, tilting her head as she took in his face, his chest, his twitching stomach muscles, then finally his cock-as if she wanted to savor her perusal.

Her interest in his body was palpable-and so f**king erotic. At first, she'd surveyed him with an analytical eye. But now her lids went heavy, her breaths shallowing. Those sparkling pinpoints glimmered from her eyes.

A soft moan escaped her, and her hands shot out to his chest as if magnetized. When she feathered her fingertips over his muscles, he hissed in a breath. "You touch me like you do your golds. I watched you in your workshop and wanted you to handle me with such attention."

"You're so much harder than gold," she said, voice gone throaty from her unbridled cries. "You're as hard as these marble columns." She squeezed his tensed muscles, then rubbed her palms down his torso. "That night in your tent, I only got to feel you for so brief a time, when I wanted to explore you like this for days."

You will. Somehow I'll make it so you get that chance-

She took him in hand; his hips bucked, his knees jerking wider.

"It really is unlike anything I've ever felt."

"It aches for you." He curled his finger under her chin, catching her gaze. "Forever only for you. Do you understand me? There will be no other."

When her lips parted, both emotion and arousal surged inside him. Half of him wanted to take her in his arms and crush her against him; half of him wanted to fit his shaft between those carnal lips.

Her halting touches grew bolder, a silky stroke here, an inquisitive heft there. "Is this like you imagined?"

He bit out, "Better than. Impossibly better."

She rubbed her thumb across the crown. When pre-semen welled to her touch, she unconsciously wetted her lips. His eyes locked on her mouth. She's ready. . . .

"Vampire, maybe you should lie"-

He traced from her grip, reclining on his back.

-"down," she finished with a gasp.

He tugged her hand back to his shaft, coaxing her to kneel between his legs. She did, eagerly.

"How should I begin?"

He reached out, grasping her nape, drawing her closer. "Kiss anything you want."

She tilted her head again, as if debating where to start. Leaning in, she pressed her lips to his neck, then his chest, grazing them over one nipple. She licked the other one.

Never knew I was so sensitive. His hips began to move of their own accord.

As she dipped a kiss lower on his torso, her wild braids trailed over his skin like teasing fingertips. Don't press her head down . . . don't press her head . . .

When she nuzzled the hair near his navel, his c**k surged for her mouth. So close to those sweet lips of hers.

She grasped the base of his shaft. She aimed it at her mouth. He waited . . . didn't breathe. . . .

With a tentative lick, she daubed her tongue at the crown. She must have liked his taste; a purring sound of approval fanned from her lips, warm breath tickling across the head.

Enthusiasm? He was doomed.

Then she . . . lapped at the slit for more.

"Ah, Bett!"

A swirling lick around the tip followed, rendering him dizzy with lust. Doomed.

"How am I doing?"

His c**k was under her thrall. She had more control over it than he did. With shaking hands, he piled her braids on top of her head, grating, "If only you were this good with gold." Had his accent ever been so thick?

She gazed up at him with a hint of a grin. "There's a different dimension to this, so to speak," she said, just before she closed her lips over him-and sucked.