I love you, she whispered to his mind.
He closed his eyes.
He sensed the heat but nothing could slice through the altogether different, far more powerful pain.
I love you too, sweetling.
He opened his eyes to see her smile, radiant and beautiful.
Then the trapdoor opened and she fell.
* * * * *
With a jerk Lucien came awake.
The sun was blazing around the curtains but the room was still dark.
He felt a tightness in his gut, his skin dampened with sweat, Leah curled into the curve of his body, her heartbeat and breathing steady.
Asleep.
“Holy Christ,” he whispered.
He remembered every vivid, horrifying second of his dream.
Every excruciating second.
He could actually feel the smooth satin of her claiming gown under his hands, the weight of her body over his shoulder as he ran, the touch of the flame.
“Holy Christ,” he repeated.
Was this what she was dreaming? Was this what sent her fleeing the bed, terrified and sobbing?
It had to be.
“Holy Christ,” he gritted between his teeth.
She stirred.
He moved, turning her still sleeping body into his arms, he put his mouth to her, tasting her, his hands stroking at the same time. Down his mouth went to her breast, he rolled his tongue around a nipple.
“Lucien?” Her sleepy voice sounded, her hands came to his shoulders.
He moved south.
“Lucien,” she breathed, the fingers of one hand sliding into his hair.
He spread her legs, shifted her calves over his shoulders and put his mouth to her. Relentlessly, he feasted on her as she gasped and panted, her fingers clenched in his hair, her h*ps bucking.
Voracious, always voracious, his Leah, this time, demanding more of his mouth. Her muscles tensed, heels digging into his back and she cried out his name when she came.
He surged over her, controlling his heart, calling out to hers, making them beat as one while slamming into her lush wetness savagely in one, long, smooth, brutal thrust as she panted out his name again still in the throes of her cl**ax. He nearly forgot to sweep his tongue along her neck before he extended his razor-sharp fangs and tore through her flesh.
Then he was thrusting, her body jerking, her blood pumping into his mouth with each deep, violent plunge, every beat of their hearts throbbing in tandem.
He’d been correct.
Fucking rapture.