Shadow's Claim

Chapter 32

Trehan didn’t understand her sudden question, only knew that his answer had surprised her.

When she peered up at him, blinking against the drizzling rain, he sensed they were at the precipice of something and didn’t dare trace her away. Droplets shimmered over her braids like a sparkling veil, her eyes so luminous.

Her expression looked . . . lost, as if he’d done far more than admit a simple truth.

“Bettina? Why ask that—”

Two soft hands cupped his face, tugging him down. His lips met hers. Now I am lost. . . .

He looped an arm around her waist, drawing her body against his, groaning at the feel of her. Her skin was so warm, so slick beneath his hands. Their breaths mingled, the kiss deepening, rain now pouring; the night mirrored the intensity of what burned between them.

When he lifted her up against him, her slim arms closed around his neck, her long legs wrapping around his waist. He traced her to the furs, laying her down.

Between kisses, she said, “Are we about to go up to a point?”

“Almighty gods, we are!”

“Will you make me forget tomorrow?”

He drew back on his haunches. “I intend to. As long as we’re here in this place, tomorrow doesn’t factor. Just you, me, this storm.”

When he only gazed at her, she frowned. “What do you want me to do?”

“Bare yourself. Show me your pretty breasts as you did that first night.” This time, to me. Only to me.

She bit her bottom lip. “You think about that night a lot.”

“You don’t?”

With a blush, she reached behind her, untying the lace of her top. When she peered up at him for courage, he rasped, “For me?”

She removed the material, revealing perfect pale swells tipped with rosy peaks. He’d seen them before, he’d kissed them before; a groan still burst from his chest.

The corners of her red lips curled. “You . . . like them.”

“Like?” He covered one with his palm, giving a gentle squeeze. “Already I’m obsessed with them. I imagine an eternity tending to them and every inch of your ravishing little body.” He leaned in to kiss her, promising her, “Soon, Bett,” just before his lips met hers. He drank in her sweet gasp.

She met his seeking tongue, lightly swirling the tip of hers against his. He loved the way she kissed—with shy laps of her tongue, welcoming lips, and now a needy moan.

One of his shaking hands cupped the back of her head; his other eased down to unravel the ties of her skirt, pulling it free.

He broke away, but only to admire the gift he was unwrapping. “Loveliness itself,” he declared when he saw her in only a scrap of black lace.

Slowly, so as not to frighten her, he tugged her panties down her legs, leaving them around one slim ankle.

The sight of her body stole his breath. Waist so small, skin so sleek. Water drops trailed over taut limbs, delectable curves, and those pert breasts. The tiny thatch of dark curls on her mound beckoned. . . .

No, he was not a mere observer. As he raised his face to hers, he realized he couldn’t be more present, more engaged. Scents washed over him. Warm rain lingered over their heated skin. The beat of their hearts sounded in his ears.

The two of them were a part of this storm, a part of this wild shelter.

And his female was awaiting his next move, studying him with wide, shimmering eyes.

“Do you know what I plan to do to you, Bett?”

She swallowed. “K-kiss my breasts?”

“Would you like me to?” She nodded eagerly. “Then lie back.”

When she reclined across the furs, he moved over her, leaning down to lick moisture from her delicate collarbone down to the curves of her breasts. Two pouting nipples taunted him. Which to suckle first?

He groaned as he closed his lips over one, rubbing his thumb back and forth over the other. With his tongue, he flicked fast and hard. With his thumb, he rubbed so slowly.

She arched her back for more. “Ah, Daciano, what are you doing to me?”

Anything I can—up to a point. Hard and fast. Lazily back and forth. Then he switched mouth and hand.

When her head began to thrash, he left two throbbing nipples in his wake and started kissing down her flat belly.

By the time he reached her navel, she was shaking with need. But she raised herself up on her elbows. “Daciano? Wait.”

“Do not stop me, Bett.” His voice was a growl. “You know what I want.”

“But your fangs?”

“I can control them.”

“Are you sure? I-I don’t want you to bite me.”

“I won’t take your blood again. Not until it’s given.” He stroked his palms up from her knees. “Do you trust me?” he asked her with a wet lick just above her curls.

“I do. I really do.”

“Then part your thighs, dragă.”

At length, she lay back, gripping the furs in her fists.

Am I to have this prize?

Though a furious blush suffused her skin, she slowly began spreading her knees. His heart twisted in his chest at this show of trust from his Bride.

Gods, yes, he would survive tomorrow!

He would live to know the full power of her desire. He’d live to claim his stunning female, to master her body with his own, to win her eternally—

She bared her succulent sex; his body reacted with an animalistic frenzy, his lusts raging.

His mouth watered for her pink, glistening folds, for the shadowy little dip of her opening. He wanted to fall upon her, devour her. His fangs ached to prick her; he’d suck on her welling flesh. His cock surged, desperate to sink into her virgin core.

When he took her luscious scent into him, he felt the beginning tremors in the base of his shaft, seed rising against his will.

About to spill? Before I’m even to kiss?

He somehow restrained himself. In an unrecognizable voice, he repeated what he’d told her the first night he’d found her: “I’ve had a sample of your taste, dragă mea. Now I feast. . . .”

She peeked her head up, worrying her lip. “Daciano?”

But he’d already lowered his head. When he opened his mouth and pressed it to her sex, she gasped. With his first hungry lick of her heat, he groaned, “A mea! Dulcea mea.” Mine! My sweet.

She collapsed back with a moan of delight. “Yes, vampire, yes. . . .”

Her taste was indescribable; her essence was like a current ripping through him—tightening every muscle in his body, enlivening every dancing nerve.

Even as he tongued her with abandon, he somehow kept his fangs in check. Even when he opened his mouth wide to cover her, he didn’t graze her tender flesh.

So long I’ve waited for this. He gazed up to see her reaction. Arms stretched over her head, she arched her back. Her breasts moved sensuously, her puckered nipples jutting toward the folly roof.

She’s in love with this kiss between us, as much as I am.

Still on his knees, he rubbed his hands up her torso, possessively fondling her damp breasts, pinning them under his palms. He licked her even harder, dipping his tongue to her opening to gather wetness, then laving her clitoris with it.

My Bride, my prize, my feast.

She threaded her fingers through his hair and rocked to his tongue. “Harder, vampire,” she breathed, gone wanton with need. “Deeper.”

“Bett!” He couldn’t give her what she needed, couldn’t penetrate her body in any way. Not with his fingers, his fangs, his cock. Frustration seized him—I want to be so deep in you, fucking you so hard! His hips instinctively thrust, but his shaft found no softness to sink into.

“Trehan,” she moaned. “Please, I-I need . . .”

With a growl, he surrendered his grip on her breasts and clutched the backs of her thighs, trapping her knees wide to get deeper with his tongue.

“Oh, my gods, yes!” Her broken cries sounded awed: “Never felt . . . it’s so strong . . . you make me feel . . .”

Her trembling thighs pressed against the sides of his face as her flesh began to quiver. On the very edge, she gripped the back of his head, undulating her hips up—as she tugged him down.

Even in the throes, Bettina knew that this secreted place on her body—a place no other male had ever touched—was now his.

He’d claimed it with his tongue, with his lips, with his harsh growls. And she’d surrendered it fully.

Was the vampire rasping words to her between each lick? “Tell me you’ll let me . . . do anything to you!”

His fingers tightened on her thighs, urging her to answer.

“I . . . I . . .” She couldn’t think. Why wouldn’t she let him do anything—if it felt like this? Did he mean sex? Can’t think.

Why were those words so important to him?

All she knew for certain was that she needed to dig her nails into his muscular back, to lick his skin, to grind into his kiss—

Ah, gods, his wicked tongue was everywhere. “Oh, vampire, don’t stop. . . .”

As she neared her peak, pleasure dancing within reach, her mind could generate no other thought: “Coming!”

An instant later, ecstasy overwhelmed her. Scorching and boundless, it coursed through every inch of her. Back arching, she flung her arms wide—and screamed.

A fierce groan broke from his chest as he bore down on her with his mouth. Though her orgasm ebbed, he licked her even more greedily. Sounding frenzied, he delved right at the entrance to her sex, where her sheath was still spasming. Could he taste her?

Too much! Writhing beneath the iron grip of his hands on her thighs, wriggling from the lashes of his tongue, she pleaded, “Oh, stop!”

He didn’t; he took her clitoris between his lips. And gently sucked.

“Ah!” Lost again.

Rippling waves inundated her. Helplessly, she surrendered to them . . . just let them come and come. . . .

Once her second release subsided, he finally began kissing up her body, rasping something in Dacian, something that sounded like a promise—or a threat. She didn’t recognize the words, but she recognized the So help me . . . tone.

“Soon, Bett.” She thought he grated, “As deep and hard as you need me.”

Panting, she lay with her legs spread and—for blissful moments—not a care in the world. Again she felt like she was floating, yet tethered.

Gradually she came to her senses, keen to please him as well. He’d drawn back on his haunches, staring at her sex with such a fierce hunger that she almost became fearful.

With each second, he looked even more agonized. His body radiated waves of tension. “Ah, female”—he swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing—“I can see where I would kill to be.”

His comment made her want to snap her knees shut, but something told her she didn’t dare.

More harsh words in Dacian followed. He repeated, “A mea.”

Mine?

“Vampire?” Her gaze trailed lower. His engorged shaft pulsed against his pants, the material straining.

“If you knew . . . the thoughts running through my mind right now.”

Gathering her courage, she eased up on her knees and laid one palm against his face. Such a slight touch, but he quaked from it. “Daciano, I want to reciprocate.”

He choked out, “Then we’re . . . in accord.”

Maybe it truly wouldn’t matter that she was sexually untutored. Maybe he could still enjoy her clumsy kisses. She reached for his shirt; he tore it away.

“You know I’ve never done this,” she said distractedly, her attention fixed on the glorious muscles of his chest. I really need to sketch him.

“Dragă, you don’t have to . . .” He trailed off when she reached for his pants.

“But I figure I’ll make up for my lack of experience with enthusiasm.”

Another groan. “If you’re enthusiastic about this, I won’t last long to enjoy it.”

Enthusiasm did matter. She grinned up at him.

He gazed at her lips, exhaling a gust of breath. “Do you know how many times I’ve come while imagining those lips of yours around my shaft?”

Her brows drew together. “But you’ve only been blooded for a few days.”

“Then you must have blooded the living hell out of me because I’m hard for you constantly. Releasing the pressure has been the only thing keeping me in check with you.”

“Really?” This powerful warrior pleasured himself to fantasies of her? Bettina, the femme fatale? The idea melted away any hesitation.

She had nothing to fear from this vampire, and it might be his last night on earth. She wouldn’t hold anything back. “I’ve imagined it too.”

“I know. You wondered if I would shudder and groan if you put your mouth on me.” With his vampire speed, he discarded his pants in a blur, then returned to kneel in front of her.

Between hoarse breaths, he grated, “Allow me . . . to appease your curiosity.”