Taken by a Vampire (Vampire Queen) - By Joey W. Hill Page 0,107

her face into his chest and bit down on his flesh as his hips pistoned between her legs. Slow then fast, then slow again, making her work her hips against him in response.

“Please . . .” She whispered it against his flesh, tasting him. He lifted up enough to push her down flat on the bed, hold her there with a hand on her throat, his other hand tracing the dried tracks of his come over her breasts, her abdomen. She kept her legs clasped tight around him, her inner muscles milking him, begging him to move again, because watching him touch her like that, idle tracings of his seed, his cock still and full inside her, broke her into pieces.

“Shhh. Be still, muirnín. Feel how hard you make me. I loved marking you.” Then his fingers brushed her hip and something cold touched her heart. No, she didn’t want that to intrude on this moment. She put her hand over his, but he made a reproving noise.

“Arms above your heid. No interference with what I do to ye.”

She didn’t want to interfere, but Niall was studying the third mark she carried as Stephen’s servant. “Please . . .” She didn’t want him to say anything. At the time she’d received it, she thought it was evidence of what she would do for her vampire Master. Take her own life if needed, a mockery now. But the mark was shaped like a dagger, the universal sign of betrayal.

Niall said nothing further. He slid his arm back under her waist, moved them up the bed, which changed the angle of his penetration, making her whimper with pleasure. He’d told her to keep her arms above her head, but when she reached for his face, he didn’t stop her. She traced his jaw, his brow, lingering on his nose and mouth. She didn’t get to touch many of those who’d touched her. Not this way. Not with the time to consider what emotions might be passing behind his brown eyes, the words held back behind the firm lips.

“If I could save ye a moment of pain, lass, I would. We both would. We’d fight dragons for ye.”

It made things hurt inside of her, so badly she couldn’t speak. She was afraid of what might happen to her when Stephen died, but she hadn’t anticipated having something she might regret leaving. Someone. Letting her hand drift to his shoulder, she drew close to him once more, burying her face in his neck. He could make her lie back, look at him, but instead he increased the constriction of his arms around her, cradling her like a child while he stayed deep inside her, caring for her with his compassionate silence, the demands of his body, nurturing the emotional and physical both.

“I want you to come for me, lass,” he whispered in her ear. “I want tae hear you cry out. Let our Master hear your pleasure.”

He started moving once more, and this time she caught on fire within only a few strokes, as if by words alone he’d brought her to that pinnacle.

Come for us, Alanna.

Evan’s voice, and all she needed. The two of them around her, even if it wasn’t in the same room. They were both in her mind as the cleansing fire swept through, carrying her with it. She moaned against Niall’s flesh as he thrust deep. Curving his powerful back, he latched onto her nipple and suckled it, drawing out the orgasm in an excruciating roll of pleasure that kept on and on as he worked his hips against her, her body arched up into his, wanting to fuse every inch of her flesh against his.

“Sweet lass,” he muttered against her. His hips pushed her legs wider, and she drummed her heels on his tight backside, in rhythm with his thrusts, her nails digging into his shoulders, drawing blood.

He rolled them then, putting her on top. He stayed in charge, controlling her descent, his gaze latched onto the quiver of her breasts with each solid downward impact. She was riding his aftershocks, but he wasn’t done. She clenched on him, dropping her head back, crying out with pleasure when he reached up, caught her throat to hold her upper body straight. It made her feel owned, possessed, the mere thought sending her over another pinnacle. One that became even more intense when he released himself, jetting hot seed into her welcome heat.

In the aftermath, as she sprawled over him,