“Feel what? No.”
Of course she could feel it. What was it? Magnets? Her resolve melting? She started to sob into his mouth. His kiss tasted, this time, like an orange Dreamsicle.
“I won’t feed this time, baby. You need to re-gain strength. Please don’t fight with me this time. Let me have you. I’ll be gentle. I’ll make you feel so good.” His voice was husky, sexy.
No. Don’t be sexy. Be your cocky asshole self so I can continue to hate your stupid vampire guts.
Goosebumps rose all over her flesh. He was being all sweet and acting desperate to be intimate with her and have it be mutual but she had to ignore what he was doing to her body and make him let her go. She was all tingly but she didn’t want this. She tried to get up but he pinned her. He was too strong.
“Please don’t. I’m sore,” she pleaded. She was aching from the sex, especially the punishment sex. She was just…spent. It was like her heart was splintering into her chest. “Please.” This was so confusing. Her body was responding to him but her head told her she must make it stop.
“Isn’t it the best kind of sore, though, Kyla? I’ll be gentle.” he said but then gave her a wicked smile and grabbed her butt roughly. She groaned out of exasperation and put her hands over her face. She didn’t have the resolve to fight with him when there was a battle going on inside of her already. He started to gently kiss her shoulder and rub her all over with his warm hands. He ran his fingers through her hair and rubbed his hands up and down her torso. Then he lifted her hands off her face, lacing her fingers with his and pinning them above her head, then kissed the bridge of her nose.
In no time her body was responding to his. He had promised her last night that he was good at this. He certainly was. He let go of one hand and rubbed between her legs, pulling a nipple into his mouth, sucking it slowly, and then he entered her slowly, nibbling on her lower lip, her shoulder, but not breaking the skin, going deeper an inch at the time and watching for her reaction as he did.
She squeezed her eyes shut tight and tried to fight the urge to respond but before she knew it, her nails were digging into his back, her legs were wrapped tight around his waist, and she was moaning. As she got close to climaxing he breathed heavily into her ear, “Say it.”
Fuck it. Maybe if I stop fighting he’ll stop wanting me.
But then nausea swept over her. She didn’t want a repeat of last time, when he went violent after she refused to say his name. She didn’t understand his fascination with it, why saying his name sent him over some unseen edge but she didn’t want to be drained dry due to refusal to say it, either.
“C’mon baby,” he growled, low, grabbing her face and giving her a sexy burning stare that turned her into putty.
“I hate you, Tristan,” she whimpered.
“Yessss,” he hissed, driving into her, eyes blazing, “Again. Like you mean it. Then admit to me that you want me to fuck you.”
She dug her nails into his back and pulled him to her and held on tight and as they both climaxed together she grunted, “Fuck you, Tristan.” Then she was whimpering as she was coming, legs trembling, liquid fire in her veins.
“Oh wow, baby” he breathed into her ear. “I wanna bite you so hard right now.”
Why did that sound so hot?
He flipped her over onto her side and gathered her backside up to his crotch, spooning her. He snuggled close and kissed her shoulder.
“No cuddling. Off. What are you going to do with me? Why did you take blood from my arm?”
“So much for basking in the afterglow,” he said, leaning over her, looking surprised, and kissed her shoulder again. He trailed his fingertips from her shoulder down to her hip. Her body felt like jelly.
He let her go and rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling for what seemed like ages. She sat up, pulled the blankets up to cover her chest and folded her arms across her chest, waiting for him to speak and wanting her body to stop with the aftershocks, the shaking.
Finally, he tossed the blanket back and got up and walked over to a dresser across the room and poured two glasses of something amber from a decanter and fetched underwear from a drawer. She averted her gaze, trying to ignore the urge to admire his beauty. He walked back over and sat down, passing her a glass and then easing his way into a pair of snug black boxer briefs. It was beginning to get dark. She tried to push away thoughts of how sexy he looked, his tall and muscular profile in the dim of the room with a bit of light coming from the wall of windows, and a set of double doors that opened to that courtyard.