Jordana belonged to him.
Her body, her pleasure, her heart. Maybe one day, her blood bond.
Just the thought of taking her vein as he claimed her body made his fangs erupt farther from his gums. The recollection of her bloodscent, that ethereal, delicately elusive mix of citrus and spice, made his mouth water with the thirst to make her his in the one way no worldly force could ever break.
But not here.
Not like this.
He’d already taken more than he deserved from her.
She had driven him to the razor’s edge of his control tonight, but he still had some sanity left.
Admittedly, too damned little, when she looked so sexy for him tonight and tasted so sweet. When she felt so incredibly perfect as he held her pinned beneath him and crashed into her welcoming heat with an abandon he’d never known.
All he knew in that moment was her. She consumed his senses, obliterating everything but the pleasure of their joining, the erotic sounds of their bodies moving together in slick and frenzied rhythm.
He wasn’t going to last long.
Each thrust of his hips sent him deeper, jolted him further away from reason and control and discipline. His veins were lit up, sizzling. Tension coiled deep inside him, pressure that turned every tendon and sinew to the breaking point. His cock had never been harder, ready to explode.
“Come for me now, Jordana,” he muttered fiercely beside her head as he leaned forward and angled himself even tighter into the milking tightness of her womb. “I want to feel it. I need to feel it right now.”>But those nightmares and horrors had no hold on him when Jordana’s lips were warm and questing on his skin. All he knew was the ecstasy of her mouth and his yearning for everything she would give him.
Nathan growled with pleasure, his cock straining with unbearable demand. He brought his arms around her and urged her up to his mouth once more, leaning back onto the desk as he took her in a scorchingly deep kiss.
Her skin was hot beneath his palms, her bare back like velvet under his fingertips. She moved against him as their tongues tangled together, their bodies creating a friction that drove him swiftly to the edge of his need.
He moaned as his cock surged against the warmth of her abdomen. Greedy for more, he smoothed his hands down over her dress and onto her ass. Gripping her firmly, he ground deeper into her heat, angling his pelvis to meet every sinuous movement of her body.
It was torture, plain and simple. All it did was ratchet him tighter, harder.
Made the tether of his self-control stretch taut, near to breaking.
If they didn’t stop soon, nothing was going to keep him from taking her right there on the desk. Shit, he was already past that point of no return. And if anyone from the party had the bad judgment to come looking for Jordana—if anyone walked in on them now or in the next few minutes—he wasn’t sure he’d be able to reel in his urge to kill.
“Christ, you feel good, Jordana,” he muttered through gritted teeth and fangs. “Just the sight of you makes me wild to fuck you. To feel you on me like this, knowing how sweet your body is going to be when I get you naked and drive into you—” He sucked in a sharp breath and moved against her in a more fervent rhythm, astonished that their combined heat didn’t incinerate their clothing. He stared into her eyes, the dim light from of his transformed irises gilding her in an ember glow. “If you think you can tease me like this then walk away, you’ve got a hard lesson coming.”
A snarl rumbled out of him as she drew out of his embrace to stand between his legs. “Who says I’m teasing?”
Her mouth was kiss-bruised and glossy, her eyelids heavy over the now dusky blue of her eyes. Without further words, she reached for his hand and urged him to his feet. He stood, breath caught in his lungs as she began to unfasten his belt. It jangled softly as it fell loose, the only other sound besides her soft, shallow panting as she undid the button on his pants, then let down the zipper.
Her hand slipped inside, cupped his rigid shaft. Nathan hissed, steeling himself to the bliss of her gentle touch.
He’d been raised not to require touch or comfort, feeling or emotion … least of all pleasure. He had been brutally conditioned to reject all these things, and so he had.
But he’d never known Jordana’s touch. He’d never known her kiss, or how silky and hot—how utterly perfect—it could feel to lose himself in the one woman he wanted above all others.
The only one he would ever want again.
Jordana stroked him briefly, catching her lower lip between her teeth as she palmed the head of his cock, smoothing the bead of slick moisture along his length. He groaned when she released him, but then her hands went to the slack waistband of his opened pants and his throat suddenly went dry.
With her gaze locked on his, she freed him in agonizing increments, until the fabric slid down his legs to pool at his feet. His cock jutted out, thick and heavy, dripping with need. The glyphs that encircled its base and tracked onto his shaft throbbed with furious hues of darkest indigo and bloodred wine, the colors of extreme desire.
Jordana stepped forward and wrapped her hand around his nape, dragged him down for another deep, unhurried kiss. He obliged, parting his lips to let her in, savoring the sweetness of her tongue and the hunger of her mouth.
His heart was hammering, his fangs filling his mouth by the time she released him. Jordana ran her fingers along the underside of his swollen shaft, wringing a hiss from him as she squeezed the head and slicked him with his own juices.
“Fuck,” he whispered raggedly. Her touch would be the death of him. A death he’d gladly welcome.