Teeth clenched, a satisfied growl vibrated in his chest. “Mine.” Guttural. A feral claim of ownership that Claire’s body responded to as her pussy clenched tight around his shaft. He wanted to fuck her senseless, until that hot, tight channel milked him dry.
Her fingers curled around his shoulders, her nails biting into the flesh. “Mine.” She repeated the word with such possessiveness that Mikhail thought it would take little else to bring him release.
This woman was his mate. His. She was strong enough to receive the gift he would give her. And it was time to take them one step closer to the mating that would bind them together forever.
* * *
Claire would have died before using words like “unparalleled passion,” “soul mate,” or “destiny.” But with each passing moment she realized that what was happening between them now was bigger than her. Bigger than both of them. And she was helpless to fight it.
God, the way he made her feel! Without a thought to the fact that she was stretched out on his front lawn, fucking him like some sort of crazed exhibitionist didn’t even register. She wanted to scream. To cry out with each powerful thrust of his hips. To take him deeper, harder. What he gave her wasn’t enough and she didn’t know how to get more. Mikhail overwhelmed her, dominated her, held her in orbit as though he were the sun and she was nothing more than a planet caught in his gravity. She’d lost herself to him and still she wished there were more of herself to give.
There would never be enough.#p#分页标题#e#
Something was absent from this moment. As he ground his hips into hers again and again a hollowness opened up inside of Claire. A cavern so deep and dark that she despaired of ever finding her way out of it. Instinct tugged at the back of her mind, her senses sharpening, smell, sound, sight, seeming to heighten with each passing second. Something was required of her—of them—in order for their union to be complete.
“Drink from me, Mikhail.” The words left her as though on autopilot. “Take my blood.”
A sound that was purely male rumbled in his chest as he dipped his head to her throat. It’s not like he hadn’t already buried his fangs in her skin, but Claire wanted it—no, needed it—again. Now. In this moment while he fucked her. His mouth sealed over her throat and anticipation coiled low in her abdomen, sending a renewed rush of wetness to her core. The sound of their bodies meeting and parting as he increased his pace and intensity only heightened her pleasure, and Claire rolled her head to the side in order to give him full access to the column of her throat.
His mouth was a brand. Fiery heat that seared in the moment before his fangs punctured her skin. Yet another orgasm seized her, this one more intense and gripping than any of the others. Claire lost herself to the sensation, floated away not on a cloud of bliss but a violent storm. One that tossed her on wild waves and broke her apart on the shore of Mikhail’s onslaught. His arms held her tight, his lips sealed over her throat as each pull of his mouth matched the thrust of his cock.
Harder. Faster. Deeper. More. The words ran a loop in Claire’s mind, but they refused to form on her tongue. Just when her pleasure began to ebb, another wave crested, this one just as powerful as the first. She threw her head back and screamed, a long, loud exclamation of pleasure that left her throat raw and aching. Her hands came around Mikhail’s back and she held his head against her, desperate for him to drink from her, to take every last drop of blood she had to offer. Self-preservation didn’t exist as she began to float away, her limbs heavy and her mind soft and cottony. He could drain her, drink her to the point of death, and yet it was what she wanted. Somehow, she knew that this was supposed to happen.
Mikhail pulled away from her neck with a shout that echoed off the high Hollywood Hills. His body went rigid and Claire writhed beneath him as his cock jerked inside of her and filled her with a decadent heat that left her weak, shaking, breathless. And wanting more.
A trickle of fear entered her bloodstream as Mikhail’s thrusts became shallow and gentle. She’d never been possessed with such mindless lust for a man before. Had never gone to that place where nothing—not life, death, or anything else—mattered but him.
Something had happened in that moment between his teeth sinking into her throat and the moment he came inside of her. As though some cosmic force had fused them together, welded their halves into an inseparable whole. Was this the tether? Had her soul finally recognized his?
“What is it, Claire?” Mikhail’s voice floated to her ears with feather softness, a slow caress that caused chills to dance over her flesh. “Why are you frightened?”