all I bother. As long as I have you, I have everything I need.”
So did I, which was why I could not, would not let him die. Somehow, I swore, I’ll find a way to undo this.
No, we will, my other half thought at once.
We will, I agreed.
Out loud, I said, “There has to be some kind of a loophole negating the deadly effect of eating that fruit. We just have to find it before you get worse.”
Ian’s hands slid along my back, caressing their way under my tunic to stroke my skin.
“We will. But come now”—his voice turned teasing—“if a bloke isn’t willing to eat the fruit of the world’s most cursed tree in order to save his love, is he even worth her time?”
“You’re insane,” I breathed, turning my face toward his.
He kissed me, deep, slow, and so passionate, everything spun as if I’d become drunk. I gave myself up to every stroke of his tongue, the sharp brush of his fangs, and then the luscious, hard length of his body as he pulled his clothes off.
I pulled mine off as well, needing the silken feel of his skin. I needed his muscles bunching beneath my hands, too, and I got it as he reacted to my touch. Then his groan filled my mouth as my fangs scored his tongue, drawing blood we both swallowed.
He took us down to the floor, me underneath him. His hands roved over me, making my skin tingle at his touch. Then his mouth left mine to tease my breasts. Soon, my nipples were so oversensitized from each skillful lick, suction, and graze of fangs that I ached in places he hadn’t even touched yet.
My thighs slid along his hips, urging him between them. His laugh teased my skin as he sucked harder on my nipple. I felt pleasure erupt everywhere, and that inner ache grew.
I twisted to the side and reached down to grab what I needed inside me. His shaft overflowed in my hands, hard as the silver stud that pierced its tip. I pushed him away, bent down, and tried to encase him in my mouth. His husky laugh taunted me as he teleported away, leaving me grasping only air.
He materialized by my knees. Then, he opened them and pulled me on top of him. I had the barest moment to feel his hair against my thighs before his tongue twisted deeply inside me. I gasped, arching at the fiery sensations. Inner bands clenched as he repeated the deep, greedy stroke. I moved against him, needing more even as I was frustrated by him stymieing me from pleasuring him this way, too.
“I want you in my mouth,” I moaned, stretching back and reaching behind me. I couldn’t see my goal from this angle, but I could feel for it.
Ah, there it was. Even harder, if that were possible, with the tip now slicked by pearls of moisture.
He responded with more deep, twisting licks. I let go of his cock and my arms slammed to the floor because the pleasure almost knocked me over. He wasn’t teasing me with seeking flicks or playful delves. No, he was fucking me with his tongue, and gasps stole my voice at the merciless pleasure.
My hands fisted as I rocked against his mouth, forgetting about changing positions to make this a mutual pleasuring. I also couldn’t stop my gasps, or the way my hips moved even faster, until he’d be concussed by the hard wood floor if he were human. He wasn’t, though, and he gripped me tighter, urging me to move faster as his tongue swirled deeper, harder, fiercer . . .
“Oh, gods, yes!” I shouted as those bands snapped and rapture broke through. Its effects bent my back until I sagged forward from the overload, my upper arms now resting against the edge of the bed that we were somehow now in front of.
Suddenly, Ian disappeared beneath me. Before my lower half hit the floor from suddenly having nothing beneath me, he was behind me, holding me up on my knees. I leaned against him, and he craned his neck until his mouth closed over mine in a kiss erotically flavored with honey and salt.
I reached for his cock again. He gave a throaty laugh and pushed me forward until my torso draped across the bed, while the rest of me was still kneeling. To entice him, I rubbed my breasts against the bed as if the quilt was the finest of silks,