Dark Deception (Vampire Royals of New York #1) - Sarah Piper Page 0,84

her job, the LaPorte painting and Hermes sculpture, the lies she’d told, the risks she’d taken, the attack in the garden, the knowledge of Dorian’s true nature.

All that mattered now was this sexy, dominating man, his tongue lighting a fire deep in her belly, his kiss a drug on which she’d happily overdose.

He brought her close with his mouth—so close she was certain she’d fall—but then he pulled back.

Another slap stung her skin, and Dorian moved up the length of her body, kissing the ridges of her spine, her neck, her ear.

His cock was smooth and stiff between her thighs. She couldn’t help it—she had to move, even if it meant risking punishment. Her hips rocked against the silky sheets, arching toward him, begging him for more.

For all of it.

“Once a bad girl, always a bad girl,” he murmured. “You really shouldn’t disobey me.”

With one hand clamped around her hip, the other around the back of her neck, Dorian thrust inside her.

Holy.

Fucking.

Hell.

Again and again he drove into her, then pulled out slowly, slamming back into her slick heat with a force that only made her want more.

She sighed into the pillow, arching up to bring him in deeper, her body so needy, so hot for him. Beneath her flesh, the sheets felt soft and cool, a delicious contrast to the heat from the muscled force of nature attacking her from behind.

After all Charley’s fantasies, the memories of his touch in the closet, their dirty nighttime phone calls, their interrupted games in the guest house, the wild kiss in the basement… nothing could’ve prepared her for the intense feel of his punishing cock.

Sliding his hand into her hair, he tugged her head back, brushing his lips against the shell of her ear. “I’ve been wanting to do this ever since I saw you in that penthouse lobby. All I could think about was tying you up in my bed, fucking you so hard and deep you’d bloody well taste it.”

She whimpered beneath him, the commanding, masculine sound of his voice mingling with the devilish words to push her close to the edge again, her entire body wound as tight as a drum.

Charley had never been fucked like this, so raw and primal and perfect. She was on fire, drenched with lust. She wanted to make it last, to remember it, but she was already slipping away, her muscles tensing for the release that was so, so close.

“You want to come,” Dorian said, reaching around her hip to stroke a finger over her clit. “I can feel it.”

“Yes,” she replied, barely conscious. His touch, his words, everything he did turned her into jelly. She wouldn’t be able to hold out another minute, even if he commanded it.

“Tell me what you want.”

“I… I want to come, Mr. Redthorne.”

A groan of pleasure erupted from his chest, and he increased the pressure on her clit, fucking her harder, faster, unrelenting.

“Come for me, Charlotte,” he finally demanded. “Come for me hard.” He slid into her deep, and with a final stinging slap against her ass, Charley came with a force like a hurricane, her cries nearly shattering the windows as Dorian pounded into her, driving himself right over the edge along with her, finally collapsing on top of her with a growl so guttural, so possessive, it would haunt her dreams for decades.

Maybe longer.

For a few minutes, neither of them moved, content in their sticky embrace, their bare flesh cooling, the crickets outside the open window singing them into a state of peace.

Perfection.

Charley’s throat constricted with a knot of unshed tears. She swallowed them down, burying her face in the satin pillow, counting the strong, steady beats of Dorian’s heart against her back.

She hadn’t felt so fucking good—so alive—in years.

For the first time in her life—in the arms of a vampire who’d torn the heart from one of his own kind to protect her—Charley felt safe.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Dorian removed her bra and unbound her wrists, caressing each one with kisses so gentle, they felt like butterflies fluttering against her skin. As she slowly turned over onto her back, he took her face between his hands and gazed into her eyes, his own swirling with hidden mysteries Charley had only just begun to explore.

“You’re a goddess, Charlotte D’Amico,” he whispered, brushing another gentle kiss to her mouth. “And you’re mine.”

She nipped at his lower lip, but before she could deepen the kiss, he swept her into his arms and rose from the bed, carrying her into the master