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Crouching Vampire, Hidden Fang(92)

By:Katie MacAlister
 
“I’m sitting, not standing, and I like looking at you.”
 
I clutched the pants tighter, frowning at the absurdity of the situation. “You can’t look at me until I’ve dropped at least two dress sizes. Possibly three.”
 
“I’ve seen you already,” he pointed out, a hint of a smile on his lips. I was distracted for a moment by those lips, but managed to pull my mind back in the nick of time.
 
“Only briefly, and only because I wanted to see if you were going to run screaming from the room at the sight of my overabundance.”
 
He rolled his eyes. “I know you don’t wish to hear about my past relationships with women, but you might be interested to know that the first woman I slept with was shaped just as you’re shaped. She was delicious in every way, and I lusted after her from the time my voice changed until the day I was married.”
 
I blinked at him, not sure what to say to that. “You lusted after a fat lady?”
 
“No. I lusted after a wonderfully voluptuous woman, one whose curves tempted me into exploring them, a woman whose silky skin beckoned my mouth to taste the delights that only she could offer. I worshiped the breasts that were made for my hands only, paid homage to the sublime beauty of her hips and belly, and would have given up my most prized possession to caress her shapely, enticing thighs.”
 
“Oh, wow,” I breathed, my entire body tingling at the words. “Who was she?”
 
“The woman I lusted after all those hundreds of years ago? The wife of the lord who ruled my mother’s town,” he said, his eyes molten with desire.
 
I swallowed, my throat tight with yearning. “Lucky lady.”
 
“The woman I was describing, however, is you.” He leaned forward. “You make the lord’s wife pale by comparison, Pia. The body you view as unattractive leaves me breathless with desire. The curves you dislike drive me insane with the need to touch and taste them. The softness you deplore leaves me wild with a carnal desire to bite you.”
 
My mouth dropped open for a moment as I looked down at myself. “I know you’re hungry, but-”
 
“Not that sort of bite,” he said, an excitingly wolfish look in his eyes as he crawled across the bed toward me. “I do not need to see you to want to feed from you. But when I see your body, see those delicious curves beckon and entice me, when I feel your softness pressed against me, welcoming me, it makes me want to bite. I want to mark you as mine so that all other males will know they cannot have you. I want to possess you, Pia, in the most primitive and profound way a male can possess a female. I want to mate with you. I want to make love to you. I want you for my own, my woman, the other half of me. Would you truly deny me that pleasure?”
 
He had been pouring into my brain all the images and sensations and emotions that followed his words, primitive emotions, as he warned, possessive and dominating and at the same time protective, all of which swirled in and around me, leaving me keyed up like a bomb about to explode. “God, no!” I yelled, and threw the pants at the chair, all but ripping off my underwear as I flung myself onto him.
 
He caught me in a tangle of arms and legs and breasts and a hard, hot penis that pressed against me as I squirmed on him, trying to kiss and caress and lick every spot of him I could reach, all while he did the same.
 
What followed wasn’t the controlled lovemaking I had planned, with just enough oral sex to drive him insane, then a long, slow loving. No, this was primal and earthy, a meeting of flesh and a merging of souls, a frenzied mating of two people who knew beyond all doubt that they were intended to be together. Wild and unmindful of all inhibitions, I threw caution to the wind, and tasted and touched and licked, and allowed him to do the same. He probed and teased and tormented until I was writhing with ecstasy, trying to reciprocate, needing to drive him just as hard and furious as he was driving me.
 
By the time he lifted me over his poised erection, I was almost sobbing with the joy of the moment, my body singing as he plunged me downward, my muscles rippling around the hard brand of his penis as it invaded my depths, his hips thrusting it deeper than anyone had been before. He pulled me down to his chest as he bucked upward, his teeth piercing the flesh of my breast as an orgasm swept over me, catching me in its breathless grip and spiraling me out of control. His voice sounded hoarsely in my ears as he gave in to his own climax, his experience merging with mine, sending us both flying.
 
As I lay on his damp, panting body, one thought emerged in my rapture-numbed mind: No matter what Angelica had been to him, I knew with absolute certainty that she had never given him the ecstasy that he found in my arms.