Shadow's Claim

No, control, Trehan!

Restraint took its toll. His body quaked; sweat beaded his skin. And still he shuddered with abject pleasure as he eased forward to her maidenhead.

Fixed tight. Silken folds hug the head. Don't hurt her tender little sheath-

"Trehan, I need . . . I need you." She began to undulate on the tip.

His frenzied gaze pinned hers. "Eşti a mea! Eternitate." You are mine! Forever. With a shallow pump of his hips, he claimed his Bride.

Bettina's eyes watered from the tugging pinch. Then came the sensation of being filled beyond her limit.

She was stretched so tightly around his penis that she could feel it pulsating inside her.

His every muscle bulged with strain, his face tense. He gazed down at her with a tormented look. She flashed him one of her own.

Before, pleasure. Now, pain.

He eased back, withdrawing; unexpected tingles radiated inside her, drowning out some of the twinges.

"More, Bett?" His voice was almost unrecognizable.

"Um . . . okay?"

As he slowly fed his shaft back inside her, she held her breath, trying to determine whether she liked this.

Undecided.

Another withdrawal. "Love, I'm going . . . to do it . . . harder."

When she reluctantly nodded, he groaned and thrust; she didn't know whether to expect pain or . . .

Pleasure! This time his shaft brought heat, fullness, friction. Her hands flew to his shoulders, nails digging in. In a strangled tone, she cried, "I-I love that!"

Whatever she was saying or doing made his tortured look deepen. "Waited a thousand years for this. Want to last the night through." He withdrew once more, taking his hardness away. So she followed his hips, raising her own.

"Dragă, still!" He gripped her waist, holding her down. "You must not move!"

She froze.

Luckily, he didn't. He kept rocking his penis in and out until she was panting, "More, vampire!"

He gave more.

"Ah, deeper."

"Like this?" He sank himself as deep as he could, grinding against her clitoris with the most exquisite pressure. "Tell me what you need, love," he rasped, his accent as thick as she'd heard it. His body was bowstring taut, muscles rigid beneath her nails. "I will give it to you-I swear."

"That! Keep doing that . . ." Her clitoris ached for even more stimulation; he did give it to her, circling his hips, moving his body like a sinful dream.

So much delicious stimulation. Her head thrashed, her legs locking around his waist.

"I told you, Bett . . . that you'd have me as deep"-circling those hips-"and as hard as you need me."

She couldn't answer his words-because pleasure gathered right at that spot in a sudden blinding wave.

As if from a distance she heard herself scream his name. Mindless, she writhed beneath him, clutching his hair, rubbing her ni**les against his sweating skin.

Was that her throaty voice, shamelessly begging him? Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop.

"Never!"

With a wet rush, she orgasmed around his erection, spasms so strong he had to feel them, tugging his length deeper, deeper-the connection unending. . . .

Control fraying. No, don't follow her!

Keep your seed, keep your seed, Trehan's mind chanted. Must make it last.

But what male on earth could withstand that irresistible clench? A better male than I.

And then her abandon? She screamed my name as she thrashed on my shaft!

Somehow, somehow, he'd steeled himself against her wanton response as her release subsided.

Wide-eyed, breathless, she asked, "Could you . . . could you feel me do it?"

She's asking me if I felt her orgasm. He shuddered. Her innocent question, posed in that sultry voice . . . "Ah, gods, Bett, yes! Yes, I could feel you very well."

And now the slippery heat of her climax beckoned him to plunge deeper, to revel in it.

He might have succeeded in keeping his seed for now, but he was paying for it. Urges began to spur him, primal drives that he'd never contended with before.

When a bead of sweat dripped from his forehead to her neck, sliding down, his gaze followed the track-then fixed once more on her pulse. He was not only battling his need to take her blood-he was denying the overwhelming drive to plant his se**n deep inside his woman.

Both instincts screamed inside him.

Mark her neck, claim her! Pound between her thighs. Give her everything-your bite, your come, her female pleasure.

Until she surrenders completely.

He gaped down, stunned to find he'd collected her wrists, locking them over her head. Pin her, possess her. Master her! He felt very little like a Dacian, and very much like a savage vampire.

And it felt . . . good.

"Trehan?"

No! He wasn't some common Horde vampire. He could control these impulses!

So why did he feel like he was denying them both something critical?

Dimly, he bargained with himself: Just a taste, a graze of your fang as you spend. The fantasy from his youth finally come true-

"Y-you said you wouldn't hurt me."

She fears me? He remembered her heartbroken plea the first time they'd been together. Somehow he gathered the ragged tatters of his restraint, forcing his predator's gaze from her neck-to focus on her shimmering eyes. "Never hurt you." He released her wrists, then twined his fingers with hers. As he began to move inside her once more, her eyes anchored him. "Better?"

She answered by going soft beneath him, opening up, meeting his thrusts. A plaintive moan escaped her lips.