Dark Obsession (Vampire Royals of New York #3) - Sarah Piper Page 0,52

and soft and…

“Fuck, I’m…” Dorian could hardly form words. “You’re so… Fuck…”

She pulled away in an instant, his cock mourning the sudden loss of her lips. “Don’t you dare come without me, Mr. Redthorne.”

The look in her eyes went from mischievous to ferocious, a raging storm intent on utter destruction. Dorian was powerless in its path.

She dragged him down into the leaves and pushed him onto his back, climbing on top and straddling him.

Dorian barely had time to catch his breath before she fisted him again, guiding him inside her, claiming his cock with a single demanding thrust.

“Fuck me hard, Dorian,” she breathed.

Dorian hated giving up control, but this was… Bloody hell, it was everything. Bare flesh on soft, wet leaves. A cool breeze caressing warm skin. The scent of fireplaces and fallen apples and the first bite of winter in the air. The perfect arch of her hips as she took him in deeper, her fingers digging into his shoulders, the faint hum of the blood racing through her veins.

Fuck yes, woman.

Dorian grabbed her hips, thrusting up as she ground down against him, their bodies colliding as they both fought for control. She took what she wanted, what she needed, rising onto her knees and then slamming back down again, her breasts bouncing inside the tight flannel, her fingernails scoring his flesh like claws.

Every thrust unleashed more of her inner wildness, her fierceness. She was getting close to the edge again, losing herself, ready to fall.

Dorian wasn’t ready. He didn’t want this fucking moment to end.

“Wait,” he whispered. “Wait.”

“No.” She gripped his face and leaned in close, her long hair spilling into his mouth, a dark fire burning in her gaze that only made him harder. “You said you own this pussy, Dorian. Prove it. Make it hurt.”

Fucking hell, the ferocity of her demands nearly made him come right there.

With a deep growl, he grabbed the back of her head and pulled her down against his mouth, licking and biting her neck, her jaw, her ear. He wanted to be everywhere at once, kissing her, sucking her, consuming her.

He slid his hands down her back and gripped her ass, bucking wildly against her willing flesh. Suddenly, he couldn’t get in that pussy deep enough, fast enough, hard enough. Dorian was out of his mind with desire, his balls heavy and aching to unleash hell.

“You’ll always be my bad girl,” he breathed, then raised a hand and brought it down hard against the bare flesh of her ass. She cursed his name and begged him for more, and Dorian was happy to oblige, alternating hot, hard spankings with a soothing touch, pushing her to the very edge of her limits.

“You make me crazy in the best way,” she breathed, still desperate for more. “I could die for this cock.”

Fuck… that mouth of hers was going to deliver him straight into madness. He couldn’t take it anymore. Not like this.

Dorian wrapped her in his arms and flipped them over, pinning her beneath him. Charlotte didn’t fight him this time, didn’t try to take back the control he’d ceded earlier. She raked her nails down his back and arched her body, and he tore her flannel open to reveal the luscious curves of her breasts, her auburn hair splayed out on the carpet of leaves like a flame, her cheeks pink and glistening, her mouth parted in ecstasy.

Charlotte was a vision.

He continued to fuck her—to own her—just like she’d commanded. Lowering his mouth to her nipple, he bit her through the bra, then pushed the lace aside and licked, soothing the sting of the bite before sucking her into his mouth, his lips caressing her skin while his tongue teased the stiff, rosy peak.

The first tremors finally rocked through her thighs, slowly building to a crescendo as she panted and thrashed beneath him, and Dorian felt the answering call in his own body, his muscles tightening, everything in him ready to burst.

He brought his mouth to hers and breathed her name, and the feel of her soft sighs against his lips pushed him over the edge, driving him to euphoria as he sank deep inside her, burying himself, losing himself, unraveling, and when she finally reached her own breaking point, their cries of passion were indistinguishable, their bodies wringing out every last drop of pleasure until they were utterly spent.

Sticky and exhausted and unable to form words, they collapsed side by side onto the leaves, closed their eyes, and chased the sound