Dark Obsession (Vampire Royals of New York #3) - Sarah Piper Page 0,71
her lips, grinning up at her in the darkness. “Good to see some things haven’t changed, my insatiable little prowler.”
“I feel like I’m on fire,” she breathed. Every word vibrated through her mouth like a kiss, her nerve endings sizzling at his every touch.
“It’s an effect of the vampire blood. Newly sired vampires often feel extreme—”
She kissed him, smothering him, reaching down to fist his cock. He groaned and stiffened at her touch, sliding his hands up her back and hooking them around her shoulders.
Before she could guide him inside her wet, aching core, Dorian tightened his grip on her shoulders and blurred her out of bed, slamming her against the wall.
Fuck, yes.
Charley grinned.
And then she pushed back with everything she had.
In a blink, they were clear across the room, Charley pinning her man against the far wall, her blood surging with raw, undiluted power.
“Did I just blur?” she asked through a giddy laugh. “That was fucking amazing!”
“Ah, the first blissful taste of vampire strength,” Dorian teased, his eyes sparkling with light and love. He lowered his mouth to hers, stealing a breathless kiss, then whispered, “Devil help us, I’ve created a monster.”
She tested her strength again, pushing him back to the bed in another blur and collapsing on top of him.
“All that time,” she said, her hair falling into his face, “you were holding back.”
“If I’d shown you even a fraction of my full strength, I would’ve broken you.”
“I want you to break me.” Pinning his wrists to the bed, she hovered over his mouth and whispered darkly, “Fuck me, vampire king.”
A low growl rumbled up through his chest, and in another blur, he flipped them again, pinning her beneath his solid, muscular form. Without another word, he pushed his cock deep inside her, claiming her hot flesh in a single stroke that made Charley gasp.
She felt everything. Every inch. Every movement. Every red-hot pulse of blood running through his veins.
His kiss tasted like heaven, like sin, like the end of the world, and the raw, masculine scent of him pushed her desires to the depths of their depravity.
The best fucking kind of depravity.
“More,” she breathed, arching up to meet his every thrust, her body demanding all of him.
He slammed into her, again and again, setting her every nerve ablaze.
And still, she wanted more.
“Harder,” she demanded. “Fuck me harder, Dorian. I need it.”
Dorian let loose another possessive growl, and Charley growled right back at him, crushing his mouth with another kiss as he fucked her madly, deeply, hot and hard and desperate.
Her entire body hummed like a live wire.
This wasn’t slow and tender. This wasn’t dirty talk and bedroom games and naughty, delicious teasing.
This was mouths and hands and breath and fangs.
This was pulled hair and nails raked down backs.
This was a bruising grip, a devastating kiss, blood drawn and licked and sucked and devoured.
This. Was. Fire.
“Holy fuck,” Charley gasped, the orgasm already building inside her, so fast she hadn’t even felt the warning tingle of nerves. “Dorian, I’m so close. I’m… I can’t…”
Dorian pulled out and flipped her onto her stomach, lifting her hips and slamming back into her pussy from behind, pushing her right back to the edge. Sliding his hand up her back, he fisted her hair and pulled, fucking her harder, deeper, and then—with a final vicious thrust that made her cry out his name like a curse—she came, a white-hot explosion that ricocheted through her limbs and dragged him right along with her, and with her final breath of ecstasy, her vampire king shuddered against her backside, his fingers digging into her hips, her name torn savagely from his lips as if he’d been waiting an eternity just to say it.
Sex as a vampire had been fucking incredible—hotter and more intense than it had ever been between them, which was saying a lot, considering their mutual appetites and Dorian’s many, many talents.
But now, all Charley wanted to do was consume.
Blood.
Fresh blood, not the stuff from the blood bags Dorian had been trying to feed her for the last fifteen minutes.
It called to her—its coppery tang, its particular saltiness, the warmth of it. She’d never noticed it before, but suddenly, she could smell it everywhere—running deep in her own veins, in Dorian’s, through the bodies of the animals and birds that skittered through the fallen leaves outside.
But despite their decadent scent, none of those sources would abate her hunger. Her body knew it as well as her brain.