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But he wasn’t done and their shared frequency rose to intensify every sensation.
He kept rocking into her.
Her voice was in his head once more. I’ll come again if you keep doing that.
And you’ll bring me again.
Yes, please. Do that, only can you look at me this time?
He left her neck, his body now full of her life-blood, his veins whirring in response, their joined frequencies firing him up.
He planted his hands on either side of her, lifting up so he could see her and focused on driving into her. She touched his face, his cheeks, his lips. She breathed in quick gasps, her body undulating beneath his.
“Our frequencies, as though my body is trembling head-to-foot--”
“I know.”
He went faster, his vampire ability surpassing what a human could do. Her mouth remained open as though she struggled for air. She became very still beneath him, just feeling him. Her light blue eyes shone in the dark room.
She gasped.
Are you coming.
Yes.
How he loved telepathy in moments like this and she was powerful enough to make it easy.
A second orgasm shot through him. He arched away from her roaring this time because the sensation, doubling over the earlier one, felt like pleasurable fire through his c**k as he released into her. She gripped his arms, crying out again and again. Ecstasy streamed a conversation between them, of pleasuring rising to the heights repeatedly.
Sex had never been like this before, not in his long-lived life, not ever. She cried out over and over, whimpering, and grasping him from within.
Finally, the sensations slid down the other side of the hill and her h*ps settled into the bed. He rested on top of her, still holding himself up. He was breathing hard, so was she.
She thumbed his lips. “You have my blood.”
He nodded as a kind of lethargy overtook him. He wanted to roll over and lie on his back, maybe just fall asleep. But at the same time, he didn’t want to leave her body.
Instinctively, he knew that the moment he did, everything would change as it always did after sex, sometimes better, sometimes worse. But mostly, he didn’t want to sever the connection he felt to her.
Then he realized that his frequency was still communing with hers.
“What is it?” she asked.
“We’re still connected? Can you feel the vibration?”
“Yes, but I thought it was a kind of afterglow.”
He smiled. “Maybe it is, but we’re still joined, my mating frequency to your fae vibration.”
She grabbed both ass-cheeks and pushed against him. “And we’re joined here, as well.”
He chuckled. She made him laugh. He tried to remember the last time a woman had done that for him.
She tilted her head. “I want to explore the vibration connection. Is that okay?”
He dipped his chin. “Anything you want.”
She closed her eyes and he felt her focus on their shared frequency. It feels really solid, that ‘joined’ is the right word.
I agree.
Can it come apart? I mean how? You’ve done this before, right?
No, I haven’t.
At that, her eyes popped wide. “Somehow, I had the impression this was the way things were done.”
“Every couple is different and some of that difference comes with specie; my vampire to your fae and to your humanness.”
“I see, sort of. Would you mind if I tried to disconnect? I don’t want to, but I’m so intrigued.”
He didn’t want it either, but he liked the sparkle in her eye a lot. “Go for it.”
She closed her eyes once more and took deep breaths. Slowly she released his frequency and it felt like fingers unclasping and pulling away, like they’d been holding hands but had to let go.
His first impulse was to stop her. He didn’t want her to go and yet she couldn’t remain attached like this. He tried something similar, just a focused release and the same thing happened, a kind of unfurling of his frequency and a slow, peaceful, almost satisfied, separation.
It seemed appropriate to withdraw from her body at the same time.
Of course, this left a different kind of issue to resolve and he left the bed to get a washcloth and bring it back to her.
“Do it for me,” she said, smiling, her eyes sleepy.
He opened up the cloth and pressed it between her legs. He leaned down and because he was grateful for so much of what had transpired between them, he kissed her mound.
She petted his head, still damp from the shower.
He crawled beneath the covers, then slid to lie down beside her, covering her at the same time.
“Thank you, that feels good. I got chilled so fast once you weren’t near me.”
“I could sense you were cold.”
“You could?”
“Yeah.” He settled his elbow on the pillow and planted his head in his hand so he could look down at her. He liked the view. “I can sense your satisfaction right now. Must be a frequency thing, your faeness, maybe.”
“You satisfied me.” She held up her left hand, splaying her fingers slightly. He met her hand, with his own, joining his fingers with hers.
Glancing at their hands, she wrinkled up her nose. “This is what our frequencies felt like to me.”
“Me, too, exactly, entwined. This is a strong way to hold another person’s hand.”
She chuckled softly, then met his gaze once more. “For a moment there, I wasn’t sure we’d be able to separate.”
The statement caught him up short and made him think of his world, his realm, his duties as Mastyr of Bergisson. He had to admit that what he’d just experienced with Samantha existed outside of anything he’d ever known before. He feared exactly what she’d just stated, an implication that if they continued making love like this, if he kept drinking from her, feeling so possessive about her, would he only make the inevitable parting an impossibility later down the road?
“I can almost hear your thoughts.” She pulled her hand away and his fingers relaxed, letting her slide from his grasp. “We can’t really go on like this. It’s too much.”
“I know.”
She heaved a sigh as she turned away from him to lie on her side.
But he put his hand on her shoulder, sliding down her arm, then moved in to spoon her. “I know. You’re absolutely right.”
She covered his forearm with her hand and sighed once more.
*** *** ***
Samantha had mixed feelings. On the one hand, she’d turned away from him knowing that she needed to keep things light between them. But maybe she’d done it too quickly, because it felt like a door shutting too fast, not quite a slam, but near enough.
