Stroke of Midnight - Lara Adrian Page 0,32
were thin and wild, utterly Breed. His broad mouth was pulled into a grimace, baring his teeth and the enormous length of his fangs.
She moaned, overwhelmed by the preternatural beauty of the male staring down at her. His large palm cupped the back of her head, his long fingers speared into her hair as she took the full depth of him into her mouth at a relentless tempo.
“Seraphina,” he uttered hoarsely. “Ah, fuck...”
On a sharp groan, he withdrew from between her lips and scooped her up into his arms as if she weighed nothing at all. He carried her down into the steaming bath, fastening his mouth on hers in an urgent, fevered kiss as he sank to his shoulders in the warm water with her held aloft in his arms.
He tore his mouth away from hers, scowling fiercely. “I’m supposed to be the one taking care of you, if you recall.”
She lifted a brow in challenge. “Is that your charming side talking or your wicked one?”
Sparks flared in his hot gaze. “Which do you prefer?”
“I haven’t decided yet.” Pivoting under the surface of the water, she faced him on his lap and wrapped her legs around his waist. The thick jut of his cock rose tall between them, the crisp hair at its root tickling her sex. She looped her arms over his shoulders and drifted close for a teasing kiss. “Fortunately, we’ve got all day to figure it out.”
His hands gripped her ass and he smirked against her mouth. “All day, and another five nights after that.”
“You think it’s long enough?” she murmured, her lips still brushing his.
His answering chuckle was purely male and totally wicked. As was the meaningful shift of his hips that positioned his erection at the hot and ready entrance of her body. “Why don’t you tell me if it’s long enough?”
He lifted her onto him, and her laugh melted into a pleasured sigh as he sheathed every last inch.
CHAPTER 14
When he’d first arrived at the villa, Jehan had imagined what Seraphina might look like unclothed and wreathed in the steam of the bathing room as he made love to her. Now he knew. And none of his fantasies were any match for the true thing.
She met his rhythm stroke for stroke. Arousal arced through him with each rotation of her hips, making his vision bleed red as fire filled his gaze. This woman had ruined him for any other. She destroyed him with a smile, with every moan and gasp, and he hadn’t even begun to show her what true pleasure was.
He rocked inside her, balanced on the edge of madness for how incredible they felt together.
Eight nights wasn’t enough.
The part of him that was more beast than man snapped at that tether. Eight nights was nothing. And they had already lost three of them.
The part of him that was nearly immortal demanded much more than that. It wanted forever.
Something he couldn’t give Seraphina.
Not when forever meant one of them would have to give up the life that waited for them on the other side of the handfast.
Real life—the one that she had devoted herself to, and the opposite one he was equally committed to. Real life, where her selflessness had nearly gotten her killed a few hours ago, and where he was the Order warrior whose work revolved around violence and death. Where cowardly men like Karsten Hemmings served diabolical groups like Opus Nostrum.
He couldn’t turn his back on the things that mattered to him any more than he could ask Seraphina to turn her back on hers.
But it was damned tempting to think about forever when they were enveloped within the fantasy of the handfast.
With his arms around her and her legs circling his waist as they moved together, joined beneath the fragrant, steaming water, forever was the only thing on his mind.
Eternity with Seraphina at his side.
As his Breedmate.
Bonded by blood.
The thought sent his gaze to the smooth column of her throat. Her pulse fluttered, beating with a rhythm he could feel echoing in his own veins. His fangs, already elongated from passion, now throbbed with an equally primal need.
A dangerous, selfish need.
One bite and there would be no other woman for him as long as he lived. All it would take was a single taste. Everything Breed in him pounded with the urge to sink his fangs into her flesh and take that binding sip.
Equally strong was his need to bind Seraphina to him by blood as well. If