The Last True Vampire(10)
His only thought was of taking her.
A long-forgotten sense of elation swelled in Michael’s chest, his heart thundering for the first time in months. He forced the distraction to the back of his mind. Aware of the eager attention of the dhampirs, they drew on the burst of unparalleled strength this woman had given him. Hell, every last person in the crowded club could have stopped what they were doing to watch him and he wouldn’t have given a fuck-all about it. He cared only for this moment, the human in his arms, and the blood that was like an elixir of life to him.
She whimpered in his embrace and he plunged his hand past the elastic waistband of her underwear. As his fingers found her slick center, she bucked against him, nearly breaking the seal of his mouth on her throat. Gods, but she was ready for him. Her heat enveloped him, her sex nearly dripping and swollen with want. As he drew on her vein, he slid his fingers through her swollen flesh and against the tight knot of nerves at her core. Her hips rolled in time with each pull of his mouth and her legs tightened around his waist. She pushed herself from the wall and her breath was hot in his ear as she moaned, “Don’t stop until I come.”
She’ll come for me now with my mouth at her vein? His balls grew tight at those desperately whispered words, so close to begging that it tempted him to stop, if only to hear her beg again. The tension in her arms slackened and her head lolled back against the wall. Panic chased the high of feeding and by sheer force of will he disengaged from her throat. Her lids were heavy with passion and her eyes glazed over as though she’d lost focus. Michael cradled her head in his palm as he pierced his own tongue on one fang and laved at the punctures until they closed.
He’d taken too much from her. The slow thrum of her heart echoed in his ears, thready and weak compared to how it had rushed over his tongue while he drank from her. Michael froze with fear. Caught up in his lust for blood and her body, he’d forgotten himself. And now this beautiful woman would pay the price for his carelessness.
“Please, don’t stop.”
She gripped his hand with both of hers and urged him to resume where he had let off. The lazy rhythm of her heart increased in speed, no longer weak but rivaling the heavy bass that reverberated throughout the club. How? He’d drained her almost to the point of death, yet somehow she endured.
“Michael, touch me.”
He slid one finger and then another inside of her, all the while working the swollen bundle of nerves with the pad of his thumb. She shuddered against him, gripping his shoulders in her hands until her nails bit into his skin through his shirt. He seized her mouth in a hungry kiss as his own lusts mounted to the point that he wasn’t sure how much longer he could withhold himself from her. Hips thrusting in time with his fingers, he could only imagine how tight and warm she’d be when he buried his cock inside of her. She sobbed her pleasure as he stroked her, and her sex constricted, squeezing tight around his fingers. Her body went rigid and she cried out, her core pulsing around him as she went limp in his arms. A rich, sweet scent bloomed around them, permeating his senses and awakening an instinct that Michael had never experienced before. Again, he was assaulted by the others’ memories, visions of a bond that he couldn’t explain nor had ever known. And still, he recognized it in an instant; as inexplicable as it may have seemed, he was tethered. His soul had found its twin and this human belonged to him.
Her breath heaved in her chest as he planted featherlight kisses to her brow, cheeks, and lips. She uncoiled her legs from around him, sliding to the floor, and he pulled her against his chest, his fist wound in the golden length of her hair.
“We’re not done here,” he growled against her ear. “You’ve had your pleasure; now give me mine.” She had to know that she was his now. How could she think of leaving him? She pulled away and he locked his hand around her upper arm. “Did you not beg for me to touch you? To taste you? Your cries of pleasure were not false. Don’t withhold yourself from me, Amy.”#p#分页标题#e#
Her expression darkened as a shadow passed over her bright amber eyes. The briefest flicker of fear crossed her face and it sliced through him with the fiery pain of a silver blade. “Let me go,” she whispered.
She pulled free of his grasp and ducked under his arm before he could take hold of her again. Through the crowd she ran, weaving and ducking this way and that until he lost sight of her. But Michael didn’t need eyes to know the direction in which she’d fled. They were connected by an inexorable bond that she couldn’t escape.