She found her courage. “Tell me what to do.” She wasn’t certain she could do it, but for him and her daughter, she would try.

He rewarded her with a smile. “You don’t have to do anything. I’m going to help you.”

“Does Maksim help Blaze?”

“I don’t know. I don’t care, either. We make our own rules. We do what we’re comfortable with. Come to me, hän ku kuulua sívamet.” He pulled her gently into his lap.

In all her imaginings, even her wildest, she never had considered she would like sitting in a man’s lap. She couldn’t remember ever sitting on anyone’s lap, even as a child, but Dragomir made her feel safe and secure.

He drew the side of his nose down her neck, a long slow sweep, skin against skin. For some reason, that small gesture made tension coil in the pit of her stomach and flutters grow in her sex. She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. His lips followed the same path as his nose, a long, slow caress that started at her earlobe and continued down to the pulse pounding in her neck. Her heart beat faster in anticipation.

As much as she wanted to be afraid of what he was doing, it was erotic. The way he held her. The way his mouth moved over her skin. His tongue sliding over her pulse. Lingering. His teeth scraping back and forth so gently. Barely there. Back and forth until she couldn’t focus on anything but that movement. The feeling. Her stomach did another slow roll. Her sex clenched. Her breasts reacted, nipples hardening beneath the gown.

She closed her eyes in anticipation. Waited. His hands slipped over her gown, slid to the back and then she felt the gown glide over her breasts. Cool air hit skin. She looked down and saw her breasts exposed, the gown under the soft mounds, pooling around her waist. All the while his teeth continued that teasing, tugging, nipping. Each sting sent liquid fire arrowing straight to her sex.

Her breath came in ragged pants. With every pant her breasts lifted and fell. One hand cupped her chin, the other her left breast. The feel of his palm cupping her soft flesh was exquisite. His thumb, brushing back and forth over her nipple, sent invisible sparks leaping over her skin. She felt boneless, her body melting into his.

He trailed kisses both openmouthed and closed from her neck to her throat. His teeth nipped and scraped, keeping her body on edge. His mouth moved down her throat to the curve of her breast. She hadn’t expected that to feel so sexy. Every nerve ending flared into life, came alive and centered entirely on him.

The hand at her breast tightened possessively. He tugged at her nipple roughly. She was sensitive and the little bite of pain shocked her. Teeth sank deep, right at the top of the curve of her right breast. That was more than a sting, more than a bite of pain. It was a flash that took her breath, immediately giving way to something altogether different. Pure pleasure. Sinful pleasure. So erotic she couldn’t think beyond giving herself to him.

Her arms cradled his head and she stroked his hair. He drank, pushing into her mind to share how taking her blood felt to him. His cock hard and full. Pulsing for her. Throbbing. Jerking with each strong pull of her essence into his mouth. She tasted better than the finest wine ever could to him. He was addicted to her taste. Obsessed with it. His body was on fire for hers. The wicked things in his head he wanted to do were right there, easy for her to see.

Emeline wanted to try all of it with him. The more he shared the way his body reacted, the more her body needed. His hands stroked her curves, traced her ribs over and over down to her waist. Then his tongue swept across her breast, closing the two puncture wounds. His hand anchored in her hair, pulling her head back and his mouth was on her, tongue slipping in, sharing her taste.

The craving was there instantly. She knew part of it was his craving for her blood, but it was also hers. She wanted blood. Needed it. It might be abhorrent to think about, but the hunger was there. She shifted in his arms, her hands locking at the nape of his neck. She kissed him over and over. Hot, delicious kisses. Sexy. Wild. A little out of control. She wanted to be out of control with him. She wanted him that way – so into her he couldn’t think – because she was that way about him.

She was the one leading the kisses now, her mouth moving over his, her tongue dancing with his. Her hands pushed at his shirt, wishing it was gone, and it was. Just like that. There was bare skin beneath her palms. She kissed her way along his jaw, feeling that shadowy bristle. That made her thighs tingle. She’d seen that image in his head, his mouth between her legs, those bristles inflaming her nerve endings even more. She wanted that. She wanted everything from him.

She nipped his chin with her teeth, scraped them down his throat. She paused for a moment over his pulse, feeling it in her mouth. Feeling the answering beat in her sex. She was dripping for him now. Feeling empty. Needing him to fill her. Complete her. She kissed along the fierce lacerations on his chest. Nipped the heavy muscles of his chest.

His cock was raging now, and she wanted to feel that. She turned to straddle him, the silken gown bunched up around her waist. She wore no panties and her bare bottom slid along his thighs as she leaned forward to keep her mouth pressed to his chest. The lengthening of her teeth shocked her just a little, but the call was too strong.

Tell me what to do. I need you right now.

His hand came up to cradle her head. Your instincts are just fine. I’m going to lift you up. You’re so ready for me.

She was. She wanted him with every breath she took. She wanted his blood. She wanted his mind. She wanted his body. Mine. He gave himself to her. He’d said the words. His heart and soul. His body. She was claiming every square inch of him.

She licked along the heavy muscle of his chest, right over the pounding pulse. She heard it so clear, that beckoning sound. Strong. Comforting. Arousing. His hands went to her hips and he lifted her, held her so that his cock nudged her entrance in demand. She licked a second time, hunger beating at her. Did she need his blood? She craved the wild flavor of him. She remembered exactly what he tasted like.

Dragomir’s fingers bit into her hips, but it was Emeline who impaled herself on his cock. She drove down hard, unable to stop herself. Her breath left her lungs as he filled her, pushing through tight muscles, stretching and burning her feminine sheath. She flung her head back, gasping for breath as pain and pleasure mixed together.

There is so much more.

The devil tempting her. The sound of his voice trigged a hard clenching of her sex around his thick cock. Just that little movement bathed his shaft in liquid heat. She felt his pleasure, the way her sheath surrounded him, grasped at him like a scorching-hot silken fist. He held her still, when she needed to move.

Let your body adjust to me, to my size. Concentrate on other things.

Again, his voice triggered a spasm, her body clenching his hard, dragging him deeper when he wanted to be still. She nearly sobbed with her need to move, but one hand was back cradling her head, pushing her toward his chest.

That heartbeat was there like a beacon, calling to her. A summons. She couldn’t resist. She leaned forward, rocking her hips on his cock as she sank her teeth into his chest, right over that steady drumbeat. His taste exploded in her mouth. So perfect. Addicting.

All for you, sívamet.

That whisper in her mind was as intimate as his cock stretching her body. She had never felt so much pleasure. There was a sting, too, a burn, but that added to the heightening of her passion. She felt his love, so dark, and his lust, so sharp and terrible, mixed together like some forbidden aphrodisiac. That was his blood. That was the taste of him. Dark and forbidden. What he was doing to her body felt wicked and sinful. She rode him, his hands forcing her to move the way he wanted, the way she needed. Her breasts mashed against his chest, nipples rubbing his muscles with every movement of her hips.

She couldn’t stop feeding, or moving. She ground down on him, made tight circles as she went up and down, riding him as if he was some wild horse. She lost herself in the feeling, in the need and hunger. The feeling was beautiful. Terrible. Glorious. She would never get enough. His hand slid between his chest and her mouth. A silent command. For a moment she thought to resist him, but his cock swelled, stretching and burning the tight muscles of her sheath, and she couldn’t think straight. She let him take over by sliding her tongue instinctively over the small punctures on his chest.