“Omigod,” I said through clenched teeth. My fingers were digging hard into the muscles of his arms. “Yes, again!” He was as deep inside me as he could get without an operation, and he glowed above me, his white skin shining in the darkness of the room. He said something in a language I didn’t recognize; after a long moment, he repeated it. And then he began to move quicker and quicker until I thought I would be pounded into pieces, but I kept up. I kept up, until I saw his fangs glisten as he bent over me. When he bit my shoulder, I left my body for a minute. I’d never felt anything so good. I didn’t have enough breath to scream or even speak. My arms were around Eric’s back, and I felt him shudder all over as he had his own good minute.
I was so shaken I couldn’t have talked if my life had depended on it. We lay in silence, exhausted. I didn’t mind his weight on me. I felt safe.
He licked the bite mark in a lazy way, and I smiled into the darkness. I stroked his back as if I were soothing an animal. I felt better than I’d felt in months. It had been a while since I’d had sex, and this was like . . . gourmet sex. Even now I felt little jolts of pleasure ripple out from the epicenter of the orgasm.
“Will this change the blood bond?” I asked. I was careful not to sound like I was accusing him of something. But of course, I was.
“Felipe wanted you. The stronger our bond, the less chance there is he can maneuver you away.”
I flinched. “I can’t do that.”
“You won’t need to,” Eric said, his voice flowing over me like a feather quilt. “We are pledged with the knife. We are bonded. He can’t take you from me.”
I could only be grateful I didn’t have to go to Las Vegas. I didn’t want to leave home. I couldn’t imagine how it would feel to be surrounded by so much greed; well, yes, I could. It would be awful. Eric’s big, cool hand cupped my breast, and he stroked with his long thumb.
“Bite me,” Eric said, and he meant it literally.
“Why? You said you already gave me some.”
“Because it makes me feel good,” he said, and moved on top of me again. “Just . . . for that.”
“You can’t be . . .” But he was ready again.
“Would you like to be on top?” Eric asked.
“We could do that for a while,” I said, trying not to sound too femme fatale. In fact, it was hard not to growl. Before I could even gather myself, we’d reversed positions. His eyes were intent on mine. His hands went up to my breasts, caressing and pinching gently, and his mouth followed after his hands.
I was afraid I was losing control of my leg muscles, I was so relaxed. I moved slowly, not very regularly. I felt the tension gradually beginning to build again. I began to focus, to move steadily.
“Slow,” he said, and I reduced the pace. His hands found my hips and began to direct me.
“Oh,” I said, as a sharper pleasure began to seep through me. He’d found my pleasure center with his thumb. I began to speed things up, and if he tried to slow me after that, I ignored it. I rose and fell faster and faster, and then I took his wrist, and I bit with all my strength, sucked on the wound. He yelled, an incoherent sound of release and relief. That was enough to finish me, and I collapsed on top of him. I licked his wrist lazily, though I didn’t have the coagulant in my saliva that he possessed.
“Perfect,” he said. “Perfect.”
I started to tell him he couldn’t possibly mean that, as many women as he’d had over the centuries, but I figured, Why spoil the moment? Let it be. In a rare moment of wisdom, I listened to my own advice.
“Can I tell you what happened today?” I asked after we’d drowsed for a few minutes.
“Of course, my lover.” His eyes were half open. He was lying on his back beside me, and the room smelled of sex and vampire. “I’m all ears—for the moment, at least.” He laughed.