Lover Unbound(103)

He swallowed hard and prayed he didn't lose control as her frothy hands came toward him and settled on his shoulders. Unfortunately the anticipation was far more enjoyable than the reality. Her light touch like sandpaper on a sunburn… and yet he craved the contact.

Craved her. With the smell of French-milled soap wafting up in the moist, hot air, her palms traveled down his arms, then back up and over his now tremendous chest. Suds ran past his belly and onto his hand, threading between his fingers before dripping off his sex in soft clumps.

He stared into her face as she lingered on his chest, finding it beyond erotic that her pale green eyes roamed over his new, big body.

She was hungry, he thought. Hungry for what he was holding in his hands. Hungry for what he wanted to give her.

She took the soap out of the dish again and knelt before him, knees on the marble. Her hair was still up in its chignon, and he wanted to take it down, wanted to see what it looked like wet and plastered to her breasts.

As she put her hands on his lower leg and started north, her eyes lifted up. In a flash he saw her giving him head, his erection stretching her mouth wide, her cheeks sucking in and out as she worked him.

John moaned and swayed, bumping his shoulder.

"Drop your arms, your grace."

Even though he was terrified of what was going to happen next, he wanted to obey her. Except what if he made a fool out of himself? What if he came all over her face because he couldn't hold back? What if—

"Your grace, drop your arms."

He slowly let his hands fall away from himself, and his arousal jutted straight out of his hips, not so much defying gravity as being totally outside of its reach.

Oh, Jesus. Oh, Jesus… Her hand was lifting up toward—

The instant she touched his cock, the erection deflated: From out of nowhere he saw himself in a grungy stairwell. Held at knifepoint. Violated while he cried silently.#p#分页标题#e#

John jerked away from her hold and stumbled out of the shower, his wet feet and his loose knees making him slip on the floor. To keep from falling over, he ass-planted it on the toilet.

Not dignified. Not manly. How fucking typical. He was finally in a big body, but he was no more a male than when he'd been in a little one.

The water shut off and he heard Layla covering herself with a towel. Her voice quavered. "Would you like me to go?"

He nodded, too ashamed to even look at her.

When he glanced up much later, he was alone in the bathroom. Alone and cold, the heat of the shower lost, all that glorious steam gone as if it had never been.

His first time with a female… and he'd lost his erection. God, he wanted to throw up.



V broke Jane's skin with his fangs, penetrating her throat, tapping into her vein, latching on with his lips. As she was human, the rush of power at the drinking came not from the composition of her blood, but the fact that it was her. Her taste was what he was after. Her taste… and his consumption of a piece of her.

When she cried out, he knew it wasn't from pain. Her body was lush with her arousal, and that scent got even stronger as he took what he wanted from her, took her sex with his cock, took her blood with his mouth.

"Come with me," he said hoarsely, releasing her throat and letting her prop herself up against the sink again. "Come… with… me."

"Oh, God …"

V locked into her hips as he started to orgasm, and she went over the edge with him, her body sucking on his erection just as he had worked at her neck. The exchange felt fair and satisfying; she was now in him and he was in her. It was right. It was good.

Mine.

After it was over, they were both breathing hard.

"Are you all right?" he asked on a gasp, very aware that the question had never before come out of his mouth following sex.

When she didn't reply, he eased back from her a little. On her pale skin he could see the marks he'd left on her, red blushes from his rough handling. Nearly everyone he'd ever fucked had ended up with them because he liked it rough, needed it rough. And he'd never been bothered by what he'd left behind on other people's bodies.

The marks bothered him now. Bothered him even more as he wiped his hand across his mouth and came away with a smudge of her blood.

Oh, Jesus … He'd used her too hard. It had been way too hard. "Jane, I'm so—"

"Amazing." She shook her head, her cap of blond hair swinging at her cheeks. "That was… amazing."

"Are you sure I didn't—"

"Just amazing. Although I'm afraid to let go of this sink because I'll fall over."

Relief went to his head, a drunken buzz. "I didn't want to hurt you."

"You overwhelmed me… but in the way that if I had a good girlfriend I would call her up and be like, 'Oh, my God I just had the sex of my life.' "