My arms held on tight just as my legs circled his h*ps and did the same.
“If you give me you, Lucien, then I promise, I’ll give you me.”
I watched close up as his eyes flashed.
Then he drove in deep.
I arched my neck in pleasure and cried out as it mingled with a hint of pain.
Seated to the hilt, he filled me completely. He was so big, I had no idea how I accommodated him. It didn’t matter. It was so beautiful to be joined to him, connected to him, filled by him, I welcomed the pain.
“You have me, Leah,” he murmured in my ear and he was not wrong. I had him, all of him or, likely, all that I ever was really going to get.
I knew this and at that moment I couldn’t bring myself to care.
Because all of Lucien, what filled me, what pinned me to the bed and everything else that he’d gifted me with this past month was far, far more than I’d ever had from anyone else.
I twisted my head to look at him, my arms and legs tightened and I whispered, “Then I’m yours, Lucien.”
At my words, his mouth took mine in a hungry, dueling kiss and he started moving.
It was gorgeous.
While driving deep, his thrusts opening me, widening me, filling me full again and again and again and again, the pressure built, excruciating and fantastic.
Cataclysmic was the word for it. I was rocking underneath him, lifting my knees, giving him more, taking more from him, insatiable, the pressure building, becoming unbearable, ripping through me.
His lips released mine, his hand went into my hair, tugging my head back.
Then his mouth went to my neck and I felt his tongue. Then I felt him feeding. I felt my blood flow into his mouth, pouring out with each deep, savage thrust. Once, twice, three times, four.
Then suddenly I hit paradise and came. And I came hard, wrapping him as tight as I could in my convulsing limbs and forgetting everything but Lucien, his heavy body, his scent, the feel of him, his mouth at my neck, my blood nourishing him while I felt him plunging deep inside.
There had never been better and there never would be. Maybe not only in my life but in the history of Buchanans.
I was sliding down the wave, my body still jolted by his thrusts, small, contented whimpers escaping my lips when his tongue swept my neck, his mouth claimed mine and his tongue drove inside so I could taste myself on him. The taste of me on his tongue enhanced the intimacy in an unexplainably profound way that shattered my soul.
Then he slammed inside me until he was seated full to the root and I felt his body spasm powerfully, shaking me with him as his deep groan filled my mouth. His orgasm, and the depth of it, caused a sense of triumphant elation so powerful, it felt like it shredded me straight through to my core.
Shredded, shattered, sated and moved beyond anything I could imagine by the splendor of our joining, uncharacteristically of me I didn’t fight the feeling.
I drew it in, pulled it close, held it safe and I wrapped my limbs even tighter around my vampire.
* * * * *
My eyes opened when Lucien set me in bed.
I saw the sun peeking weakly through the curtains. It was nearly morning.
I’d been dozing or, more accurately, passed out.
He slid in behind me, his arm curling around my waist, pulling me to his heat, holding me close.
I settled against him.
After the first time, we’d done it four more times.
Four.