Don't Hex and Drive (Stay a Spell #2) - Juliette Cross Page 0,102
deny me. Deny us. I wasn’t having it. My body wanted all of him. I reached back with the hand not covering his possessive hold on my breast and fisted it in his hair, pulling him closer.
Tilting my head to the side, offering my throat, I ordered more gruffly, “Bite me. I want you to.” I caught his preternatural gaze in the mirror. “I want you.”
There was a split second of hesitation where I watched his control snap like a taut leash. His eyes flashed bright, pure silver. On an agonized groan, he opened his mouth, fangs flashing as he sank into me with sharp teeth, pumping deeper inside me with his cock. I gave a little whimpered cry as the pain in my neck immediately morphed into unparalleled pleasure.
I slurred his name as he bent me forward more, his mouth sucking my throat, his hands clenching my hips as he drove inside me deeper and deeper. I wasn’t paralyzed, but I sort of was. I could no longer move. His toxin filled me with such ecstasy, his body even more. His feral grunts and groans marked me with the pleasure he felt, but all I could do was lean into his embrace, my hand in his hair holding him to my neck. Then I arched my spine so he could go deeper inside me. He took what I offered, gripping my hips as he pumped with sensual thrusts, moaning against my throat.
When my orgasm came, it threw me so high my body locked as I choked out a cry and held him hard, feeling him pulse inside me on an aching moan. I didn’t know I could faint from coming so hard, but I did.
I woke under my covers, naked. Devraj lay atop my bedspread, propped up on one elbow, combing my hair across my pillow, his brow furrowed with concern. His eyes were no longer silver, but they were still fully dilated, his adrenaline running high.
“Wow,” I whispered, smiling.
He clenched his jaw. “Are you okay?”
I laughed. “I passed out from pleasure, Devraj. I’m pretty okay.”
“I was afraid.” He stopped and licked his lips. “I was afraid I hurt you.”
“How?”
He shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know. It’s just never been like that for me.”
I remembered that he’d told me he’d never bitten a woman while having sex. Actually, it was fully on my mind when I’d begged him to bite me. He’d said he’d only do that with someone dear to him.
“Do you regret it?” I asked softly.
“Not for one second.” He stared intently, fingers still working my hair. “It’s just never tasted that good. Been that good. Ever.”
Exhaling deeply with the heavy emotion swelling in my chest, I whispered, “Same for me.” I slid a hand along his jaw, his scruff tickling my palm.
His mouth tilted into a half-smile. “Maybe we’re blood-mates.”
“What?”
“The legends about vampires finding a pleasure mate in sex and blood-letting.”
I shook my head. “I don’t keep up with vampire legends.”
He grinned wider, leaning down to sweep an airy kiss over my lips. He whispered, “Allegedly, there is only one for every vampire. One who sets his blood and soul on fire when he drinks from her. When he comes inside her. As some have told it, the experience chains her to him as well.”
I closed my eyes and received his kisses indolently, still spent from before. He teased me with his mouth. And his words.
“So basically, they’re soulmates.”
“Mmm.” Another lazy kiss, nibble of my bottom lip. “For a vampire, the blood is tied to the soul.” A slow trace with his tongue, his piercing flicking my bottom lip lightly. “So I suppose so.” Then he lifted up, mahogany eyes capturing mine. “Would it be so bad?”
If we were tied to each other by blood and pleasure? Yes. It would be terrible. Because Devraj would be leaving soon, rejoining his glittering world where he was a movie star and much sought-after Stygorn. His expertise was in high demand as Jules had told me, so there was no doubt he’d leave New Orleans. Leave me behind. Because life outside of my gardens, my shop, and my life with my sisters didn’t work for me. I’d never leave. Never. Not even for a legendary blood-mate.
The sharp tang of fear merged with a swelling of hope. I swallowed against the sudden lump that had formed in my throat, then I looked away, focusing on the sharp angle of his jaw, the masculine lines of his neck.