hooks her legs at the ankles behind my ass, nudging me toward her and crushing my lips with hers. In a single thrust, I slide in completely, hissing as every nerve in my body short-circuits. Holy fuck. I was never one to climax prematurely, but I’m in absolute danger here of pulling a quick-draw move.
Hell no. I can’t let that happen. Aurora deserves to get the best of Saxon Hellström, and I intend to deliver. Fighting the urge to piston in and out of her, I pull out slowly, only to slam back in. My balls are tight as hell, and I’m seriously on the verge of exploding, but this feels amazing and it would be a shame to allow it to end too soon.
“Why are you torturing me?” she asks between kisses.
“Woman, do you know how good you feel right now? I’m about to die here.”
“That’s the intention. La petit mort.” She licks my jawline before switching her attention to my neck.
“Fuck,” I say, moving my hips faster. This is a battle I can’t win.
She bites my earlobe, and then whispers in my ear. “You want to drink from me, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I hiss.
Tilting her head to the side, she replies, “Go ahead. Do it.”
The hunger I felt on the dance floor returns with a vengeance. I’m salivating already, and my vision becomes tinged with red.
“Don’t tempt me, little witch.”
“I’m not. I want the whole package, and a vampire bite is a must.” She turns her face to mine, piercing me with a determined and lucid stare. “I want this, Saxon. And I want it from you.”
Ah, hell. When she puts it that way, who am I to deny it?
She offers me her neck again, and this time, I don’t hesitate. My fangs sink into her soft flesh, and when the first drop of her blood hits my tongue, I know I just made a terrible mistake. Too late now. My fate is sealed. And so is hers.
4
Aurora
After the romping session in Havoc’s VIP restroom, Saxon and I went back to his place, a mansion deep in the woods that very few people know the location of due to security reasons. It’s also the residence of Lucca Della Morte, King Raphael’s nephew. But the Blueblood vampire has been in hibernation for almost a hundred years—not that I was too concerned about bumping into him, or another vampire in residence. I was still too caught up in Saxon to notice anyone else.
This midafternoon, it’s a different story. My body might be relaxed and utterly satisfied—there were a lot of orgasms involved—but my mind is whirling. I spent almost the entire day in bed with Saxon, and now I’m trapped under his muscled arm across my stomach. He’s spooning me, which I can’t deny feels pretty good. But I can’t allow myself to lower my barrier around him or feel anything besides indifference. He’s a Blueblood and I’m a witch. Even if I wasn’t “promised” to someone else, Saxon and I could never be together. Vampires and witches are a dangerous combination. Neither the coven nor the king would allow it.
Why am I even thinking about this shit? I’ve always considered Saxon an annoying and immature male. Just because he’s a god in bed doesn’t make him boyfriend material. My brain must still be clouded by post-coital bliss. It’s the only explanation.
Enough with the pointless inner monologue, Aurora. You need to get out of his bed.
If I could reach my purse on the floor and grab an energized stone, I could attempt a levitation spell.
Saxon mumbles something in his sleep, and finally rolls on his back, releasing me. Holding my breath, I throw my legs to the side of the bed and stand up. My limbs are a little unsteady. I did things yesterday I didn’t think I was capable of. I’m definitely more flexible than I thought.
Hastily, I collect all the pieces of my clothing scattered on the floor and get dressed. The only thing I’m missing is my underwear, which I find after a minute under a chair. Well, I find what’s left of it, nothing more than scraps of torn fabric. I guess I’m going commando then.
Saxon makes another noise, and my heart leapfrogs to my throat. I turn around, but he’s still sound asleep, although I notice a frown on his face. I should leave, but my feet bring me closer to his satin-sheet-covered bed. His eyelids are twitching; he must be having a dream.