Pressing my body to hers, I slip my hands free and hold her while her pleasure ebbs. The mixture of our juices might look like a mess, but the scent is pure aphrodisiac.
Chapter Five
TILDA
Pleasure wraps around me. The taste of Max is still on my lips. His blood fortifies my body. His fingers are nimbler than one might think. Everything about him is perfect, and I feel better than I have in years. Even though his blood was sweet and the moment erotic, I didn’t lose control. Nothing about the experience made me want to go too far.
We’ve made an absolute mess of the kitchen, but I don’t care. “I think we should move this to the bed.” My heart pounds twice; fear that he’ll abandon me now that he’s had his pleasure and has seen that I’m truly a monster. “Unless you’ve had enough of…this.”
Gathering me in his arms, he lifts me off the counter. “Never. But I don’t want you to think you’re obligated for anything.”
“That’s nice of you to say.” My heart beats again. A vampire’s heart doesn’t need to beat very often. It’s slow, and mine only beats more often when I’m scared, excited, or nervous. Right now, all three of those emotions apply.
With me cradled in his big arms, he remains in the kitchen. “I never say anything I don’t mean, Tilda.”
“I believe you.” I grip his shoulder like a lifeline.
Pressing his lips to my forehead, he sighs. “Do you want me to help you clean up the mess we made of your kitchen now or later?”
Part of me can’t believe he’d forgo more pleasure while the poison from my fangs rules his blood. When Pierre first bit me, I would have done anything for him, for the addiction of his bite. Now, I’m the vampire in control, yet I don’t want to let this moment pass. “Later.”
His lips twitch, and he carries me down the hall.
“It’s the door on the right.” I could have told him to put me down. I’m perfectly capable of walking, but I love being in his arms. This is all a terrible mistake, but I’m too far gone to stop now. If he walks out, he might never come back. People change their minds, especially when they realize my bite is manipulative.
In my bedroom, he lowers me gently to the mattress. Making quick work of the three buttons at the front of my jumpsuit, he eases the stretchy material over my shoulders and down my body, leaving me naked, looking up at him.
“I’m sorry about ripping your outfit.” He kneels and tosses the jumpsuit onto the chair in the corner.
“It’s okay. Do you want to wait for my poison to wear off and see if you’re still interested in…this?” Visions of the way Pierre manipulated people flash through my mind despite my arousal.
Max pulls his shirt over his head and tosses the black cotton to land on top of my white clothes. His chest is broad and less hair-covered than I expected. His shoulders and arms have a thick, soft coat that ends at the front of his wrists, and there’s just a dapple of hair on the back of his hands and chest. It tapersoff at his abdomen, and his cock is smooth and soft while being thick and hard. Fuck, he’s perfect.
“It’s not poison, Tilda, it’s a venom that can cause extreme pleasure. I’m not under your thrall, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”
“Are you sure?” If I were a better person, I’d demand he leave. He could come back in a few days if he wanted, but it would be his choice.
“I feel exactly how I’ve always felt about you from the moment I saw you.” He grips my calves and pulls me to the edge of the bed. Cupping my ass, his hands are so big that his thumbs press against the inside of my thigh creases, opening me to his hungry gaze. “So pretty.”
Betrayed by my own body, my hips lift of their own accord, longing to have his mouth against my most sensitive flesh. “How have you always felt?”
“Like you are my destiny.” He slides his thick tongue through my sex, then around my clitoris. The hair on his face tickles my thighs and labia while his slips that larger-than-human tongue inside me and does it all again.
Pleasure consumes me. “Max, that’s so good. I don’t think I can hold off.”
He tongue-fucks me, then licks along my wetness before latching onto my clitoris and sucking.
The world fades, as do all my worries, as euphoria consumes me. I pump against his face. Hair tickles me while his mouth pleasures me. I’m a slave to the sensation overload.
He presses his thick thumb inside me, moving and stirring a kind of intoxication.
I can hear his heart, smell his blood, and long for more of him. I scream as my body tightens before the release consumes me.
Voice a low grumble, he kisses my inner thigh. “Is that enough, or…”
Reaching for him, I pull him onto the bed. “More.”
Lying beside me, he runs one enormous hand over my stomach, then cups my breast and pinches my nipple between thumb and finger. “You’re perfect, Tilda.”
