Page 117 of Taken by Moonlight


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Locking her legs around his waist, she lifted her arms and placed them on his shoulders. Now level with him, she could read the need in his liquid gaze, and wondered if she looked as desperate as he. She probably looked even more desperate. Vivienne heard the clinking of a belt buckle, and gasped as the smooth head of his sex brushed against her slick lips.

She grew frantic. While she was completely naked, he was barely undressed. Pushing her hands into his jacket, she removed it, and quickly undid the buttons of the shirt he wore underneath. Vivienne moaned as her fingers caressed hard abs, feeling them jump beneath her fingers.

Conall swore and caught her hands, securing them to the door above her head before capturing her lips again. In the next moment, he was driving up into her with a force that made them both cry out. He released her hands and she locked them around his neck. Reaching under her, he caught her buttocks and began to thrust wildly into her.

Coherent sounds were beyond her as she leaned her head against the door and concentrated on the pleasure of him moving inside of her. She gasped, she whimpered, she mewled, and he continued, grunting, moaning, waiting for her….

It crept up on her. Vivienne was working her hips against him when her body seized and electrical bolts rushed from her center to little nerve endings all over her body. She cried his name, slumping forward as she tried to catch her breath.


Conall continued his strong thrusts, and Vivienne found herself clutching his broad shoulders once more, her breaths hitching as her eyes clenched tight. She felt his mouth over her shoulder, right next to her neck, moments before his teeth sank into her.

“Ah!” she moaned, the pain, the pleasure, Conall…. Her nails raked his back and his thrusts grew even stronger. She felt him swell and pushed her legs further apart as her feet at his buttocks pulled him closer. As his entire length came inside her, she whimpered, and promptly burst apart. Through the foggy haze of her second orgasm, she felt his heat as it splashed against her insides, and hugged him closer.

When her breathing regulated and her voice returned, she murmured, “This pinning thing is not convenient for all positions.”

Conall lifted his head from her shoulder and she moaned a bit as his teeth left her body. He licked at what she imagined to be two pearls of blood, before replying with a little laugh, “Lean your weight on me, and try not to move.”

Vivienne did as told, watching him. The sated expression on his face made her smile.

“So, Conall, how was your day?” It was a question that a girlfriend or wife asked her guy when he came home, before the heated sex against his study door. No. She’d watched enough movies and had never seen a portrayal of sex against the door quite like what had just happened.

A dark brow lifted before Conall released a throaty laugh. Her body warmed again, and Vivienne scolded herself. He was still inside her, for crying out loud, and here she was getting turned on from his laughter.

“My day just got infinitely better,” he replied smoothly, to which Vivienne smirked and passed her hand through his hair.

“You should ask me about my day,” she prompted, massaging his scalp.

The cocky little grin should have warned her, for moments later he kissed her thoroughly before replying in the masculine way of a man sure of himself and his woman.

“Your day just got infinitely better too, alainn.”

Chapter Fourteen

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

She’d fallen asleep. That voice alerted her to the fact as surely as the comfortable bed on which she lay, and the sound of gently cresting waves. After spending the majority of two days going over her spells and consuming what should amount to a tub of caffeine, she’d finally succumbed to her own exhaustion.

Popping from the bed, Cassandre clutched her loose-fitting white T-shirt dress as she scanned the beach, relying on her heightened senses to see in the dark. She found it strange that night had fallen upon the place, especially as she’d never visited during such a time. After a thorough scan still resulted in no Alexander, she perched on the side of the bed. Was she dreaming about dreaming about Alexander? Was that even possible?

“You’re not dreaming, Cassandre.”

She spun, thinking to find him standing behind her, or next to her, but she could only see darkness. Deciding she’d spent entirely too long considering where he was, she was about to recite the spell that would take her back to her room when something grabbed her. Her eyes were open, so she could see that nothing stood before her, but something was holding her. Not necessarily hands, but a powerful energy.

Her scream came easily, and she tugged against the force.

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