The Red Lily (Vampire Blood #2)(50)

Brave. So brave. He could hear her heart pounding as swift as a hare in a trap, and though she could not turn herself to face him, wrapped in nothing but her sheer chemise, she dared to look over her shoulder, letting him know what she wanted with a glance.

He was well and mightily caught. After her bold words in the parlor, she'd taken his hand and led him back to her bedchamber. Leaving him to stand in a stupor, he watched her light the candles, then quietly remove her clothes as if she were simply preparing for bed.

Except it wasn't time for bed. It was still early morning, the rose of day unable to peek through the clouds, as if the snowfall would keep their secret. There were no words for what he felt at this moment, standing on the precipice of fate, preparing to grab what fortune offered with both hands. And heart and soul.

He couldn't even count the number of women he'd bedded over the last century. He'd never thought of the action as anything more than a physical release to calm the beast within. He couldn't even remember the last woman he'd taken without feeding on her first.

And here was the greatest complication of them all. Sienna. Standing demurely in her bare feet and her chemise, gazing at him with desire and wonder and a little trepidation. She was right to feel fear. Once they'd crossed this threshold, she'd be forced to take him, beast and all. Her easy willingness to give him what he wanted, what she wanted, paralyzed him to the spot.

His knuckles cracked when he balled his hands into fists. He forced his shoulders to relax, rolling one then the other to loosen them, then ambled closer, focusing on steady, even breaths.



       
         
       
        

"Look out the window, Sienna." The beast rode his vocal cords.

She did, taking a step closer to the world of white.

He shucked off his boots, his scabbard and knife, and his shirt, then strode up behind her. After pulling out the green ribbon holding her braid in place, he combed his fingers through her hair. He could spend an entire day feeling the silky strands fall through his fingers. That was when he knew he was truly lost. He swept her auburn tresses over one shoulder.

"What do you see out there?" he whispered close to her ear, sliding his hands along her waist.

"Snow. Hills."

"What else?" He wet his lips and brushed them down her slender neck.

She tilted her head farther for him. "Clouds."

"What else?" He trailed his tongue along the inside seam of her shift, down her shoulder along the back of her neck. He paused to move her heavy locks to the other side, then continued his exploration with his tongue, the heavy scent of lavender and musky woods filling his nostrils, drawing out his canines.

Her breath hitched. "Trees in the distance … covered in snow."

He cupped both her full breasts, rolling her nipples between thumb and forefinger through the fabric, pressing his hard cock to the small of her back. "What else, Sienna?"

"I … I don't know," she said on a breathy gasp. "I don't care."

"That's right." He pulled the ribbon loose at the bodice between her breasts, then curled his fingers around both straps and yanked the shift roughly off her shoulders, letting it pool on the floor. She gasped but didn't move. "Because there is nothing else. No one else," he grated low and deep. "There is only us."

He palmed one breast, lightly tweaking the taut nub and gliding his other hand between her legs, stroking her slick readiness.

She whimpered when the press of his cock stretching against his leather pants brushed her bare bottom. She was so wonderfully exposed. So completely open to him.

His blood burned through his veins, the urge to bite and sate his hunger in every possible way an aching torment. His fangs extended too far for him even to close his lips together.

She rocked her hips in small thrusts, as if she were trying to hold back, but she wanted to let go. He stroked a finger inside her, and she gasped.

"That's it, sweetheart. Let the world disappear."

She dropped her head back to his chest, her body becoming more pliant in his arms. He relished the feel of her soft body opening to him.

"I want you to put your hands on the window ledge and bend over," he commanded, slowly easing his hands away and clasping her waist so she didn't fall when her knees wobbled. 

"What?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder.

Her voice was husky, and the look of a woman ripe for her lover nearly knocked the wind out of his chest.

With a deep breath in, he repeated with a nod toward the window. "Put your hands on the ledge and bend over."