The Warrior Vampire(78)

She threaded her fingers through his hair. The scrape of her nails against his scalp coaxed a chill to the surface of Ronan’s skin. With the tips of his fingers still clutching the soft skin of her ass, Ronan urged her closer. He sealed his mouth over her sex, sucking, licking, nipping at her sensitive flesh. The tip of one fang nicked her labia in his fervor and a drop of blood welled to the surface of her skin. Naya sucked in a sharp breath and her body stilled above him. He hadn’t meant to be careless with her. Had he hurt her?

“Oh, gods, Ronan.” The words left her mouth in a desperate, heated rush. “Are you going to bite me there?” As though she couldn’t wait for a response, she answered for him, “Yes. Do it. I want you to.”

She gripped his hair tighter, the tug bringing with it the slightest bit of pain. Ronan’s cock pulsed in time with his heart, bobbing against the flat of his stomach as he shifted on the bed. His fangs throbbed in his gums and his throat blazed with renewed thirst. It seemed as though there hadn’t been a day since they’d met that he hadn’t taken her vein, and still he wanted—needed—more.

He would never, ever get enough.

With soft, teasing strokes, he lapped at her pussy. Naya’s hips thrust in a shallow rhythm as she attempted to increase the pressure against his mouth. Ronan gripped her ass, to hold her where he wanted her. She was dripping wet; an easy wiggle of her ass only managed to spread her slick warmth over his chest. Gods, he wanted it hard and urgent and messy with her. Wanted to spend his seed on her taut stomach, round ass, stripe her mound with it, and mark her as his. He wanted to fuck her as though today would be their first and only time together.

Her soft sobs of pleasure further stoked the fires of Ronan’s lust, each one more ragged and desperate than the last. Her thighs vibrated as he circled her clit with his tongue and her muscles tightened. Ronan’s eyes met hers and he took in the sight of her, mad with lust and her body shimmering with the rose gold hue of magic. She was close.

Ronan sealed his mouth over one swollen lip and bit down. The moment his fangs punctured the delicate flesh, Naya screamed. She threw her head back, bracing her arms on his thighs as she came. Blood flowed hot and sweet over Ronan’s tongue and his fingers dug into her flesh, holding her to him as he sucked. She reached out, winding her fist in his hair once again as her hips continued to buck and roll. The world melted away as Ronan sated his thirst. The only sounds in the room were those of Naya’s pleasure and his own greedy gulps as he drank from her.

His thirst wasn’t even close to being sated. His need for her body built to a fever pitch that rivaled the boiling heat of the blood troth.

Her orgasm ebbed and the violent jerking thrusts of Naya’s hips were now nothing more than lazy rolls. Her head hung limp on her shoulder and sweat beaded her skin, setting off the residue of magic and making her look like a luminous goddess in the presence of a lesser creature.

“Ronan.” Naya’s breath came in quick pants. His gaze followed the path of her hand as she let go of his hair and clutched at her own chest. Her fingers splayed out and particles of rose and gold magic dispersed into the air like dust stirred by a breeze. “That was amazing.” Her gaze was still wild and unfocused, and a lazy smile graced her lips. “I’ve never felt anything like that in my entire life.”

Ronan kissed the inside of one thigh and then the other. She let out a slow, contented sigh and he kissed the apex of her pussy, just above her clit. Mmmm. He’d bite her there next time.

If he had a next time.

Through the warm glow that penetrated his skin, the cold foreign magic stirred in the center of his being. Though dormant for now, it was becoming harder to fight, and Ronan worried that it would only be a matter of time before the magic overtook him completely. He shoved the thought from his mind, refused to let that piece-of-shit force of dark energy take anything away from this moment with Naya.

He continued to place lazy kisses over her flesh, wishing he could lay her down and nuzzle against her thigh and sleep. If he made it out of this alive, he’d hole them up in his bedroom in L.A. and they wouldn’t leave for days. Until then, Ronan needed to make every single moment with her count.

“I feel tipsy.” Giddy laughter bubbled in Naya’s throat as she listed to the right. She reached down and cupped his face in her palm, her eyes wide and wondrous. “You make me drunk, Ronan. Drunk on power, and sex, and…”

“And what?” Ronan pressed.

She averted her gaze, unwilling to meet his eyes. “You,” she said low. “Just you.”