Keeping Secret (Secret McQueen) - By Sierra Dean Page 0,22

this. I would never do this.

The crown I was still clinging to gave a tug. When I opened my eyes, I found Lucas trying to wrench it from my grasp. “What are you doing?”

“This doesn’t belong to you.” Tug.

“It’s mine,” I snarled, my fingers tightening so fiercely the edge of a diamond bit into my palm. I’d lost Desmond. Somehow I felt if I let Lucas have this too, I’d be left with nothing.

He stooped low, his blue eyes empty of any emotion, and with one mighty yank he wrenched the crown out of my hand. “It’s not yours anymore.”

I woke up with a sharp gasp.

Beneath my cheek was a soft mass of dark chest hair and below that the warm body of a still-breathing man. Strong fingers brushed my hair away from my forehead and trailed down my neck to my lower back, tracing the place where my torso dipped into my bottom.

“You’re okay,” Desmond whispered, soothing me.

“You’re okay.” I turned so I was looking up at his face instead of his groin. Not that his lower half didn’t deserve a good long look over, but it wasn’t my priority at the moment. I smiled in spite of how puzzled he appeared to be, and told myself again, “You’re okay.”

“Unless sleeping has become an extreme sport, I don’t think there’s much risk to my personal safety when we’re in bed.” He grinned wickedly, and his hand moved lower to give my butt a squeeze. “That is, unless you get too frisky. Then you can imperil me whenever you want.”

I looped my arms around his waist and squeezed him, letting the warmth of his body bring my temperature up. When I slept I got cold, not freezing, but I didn’t give off the nice radiance of a human being. I was closer to room temperature, like all vampires.

“You had another dream,” he said, clearly reading my expression better than I would have liked. I didn’t need to be giving my emotions away as freely as I seemed to be doing of late.

“Yeah.”

“Judging by your reaction, it didn’t end too well for me.”

I kissed the trail of hair above his bellybutton as I cast my gaze up to watch him inhale sharply. “It doesn’t matter,” I whispered. “It was just a dream.”

But the fact of the matter was, my dreams were never just dreams. And what was worse, I’d had this particular dream before. My sleeping mind had tried to remind me of that, but I’d been too caught up in the moment to recognize it. When I’d first met Lucas a year earlier, I’d dreamt of running towards him in a wedding dress, only then he’d vanished to be replaced by Peyton. Days later, Peyton had almost killed me.

Now I was dreaming about Desmond’s death, and there was no way in hell I was letting that part of my dream come true.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

I didn’t feel like talking about it anymore, so I straddled his waist, rocking my pelvis against his. Dipping my head down to take his nipple in my mouth, I gave it a teasing bite. “I will be.”

Desmond groaned as I reached between us and wrapped my fingers around his hard shaft. “Looks like you woke up ready,” I teased, rubbing the head of his cock against my opening. Nightmares weren’t the best way to put me in the mood, but the thickness of him so close to me was always enough to make me crazy.

His fingers snaked into my hair, and he pulled my head down, meeting my mouth with his for a feverish, needy kiss. I traced his lips with my tongue, feeding on him, each kiss deeper and more desperate than the last. I wanted to feel him in every part of me, wanted his warmth to smother me. I guided him inside me, and he thrust up while my hand was still around him, the friction doubling as he moved his hips.

I gasped and released him, bracing both my hands on his chest as I found his frenetic rhythm. I leaned back, and his wide palms cupped my breasts, rough fingertips circling each peaked nipple until they were almost painfully rigid. He sat up, lowering his hands to my hips and squeezing almost painfully tight as I rode him, lifting me and dropping me down on his hardness. Each new thrust treaded the line between pleasure and pain, and left me panting.

When his mouth latched on to my already sensitive nipple,