Page 138 of Trapped By the Blood Ruby

“You want this, Lily?”

“You know the answer to that.”

“But I want to hear you say it, little flower.” I groaned in annoyance. “I’ve worked far too hard to right my wrongs. I want to hear exactly what I do to you. Tell me what you want.”

“You,” I cried.

“Where?”

“Oh, my God.”

“Tell me where.”

“I want your cock inside me, Laurent. Deep inside me.”

His eyes fluttered closed, a look of pure pleasure crossing his features. Then the head of his cock was at my opening, sliding in. The sensation was jarring as I stretched around him. He went slow, letting me adjust to his size. Our eyes locked. Mine widened when he sheathed himself completely.

We watched each other for subtle signs. I caught every flare in his gaze, every staggered breath from his lips. He did the same, finding my tells and using them for guidance. My fingers tightened around the back of his neck, a signal to start moving.

Eyes on mine, he slid out to the tip, then drove inside me and stopped. He repeated this motion, stopping for several seconds each time, until I was wild with lust and need. Begging him to go faster. He didn’t.

“I don’t recall the act of making love. I’m sure I’ve done it, perhaps before I was made. But…I can’t remember.”

This admission made my stomach burst open with fluttering butterfly wings. It hadn’t passed my notice, that he’d wanted to make love to me. Even the first time we’d fucked, he’d made it intimate. So different than each of the memories I carried.

“Fooled me,” I breathed, moving my hands down his sides, marveling in the layers of muscles beneath my fingertips. I reached for his ass, loving that I could touch him wherever I wished, this great vampire lord. My palms pressed over him and squeezed. He groaned, thrusting into me harder this time before stopping, yet again. “You’re a natural.”

His gaze sharpened on me again, taking in every detail of my expression. The speed of his thrusts increased. We watched each other succumb to pleasure. Our breaths quickened in tandem. Our movements grew more wild, the way I rocked against him to meet each thrust, the way his hips began to lose their careful rhythm.

The moment I neared my peak. His head tilted, like he was listening to my heart, then he dipped in for a bruising kiss. A moment later, his teeth were at my throat, my pulse.

I stopped breathing, desperate with anticipation. Every muscle in me was coiled tightly. I felt pressure followed by the pinch of his teeth as he bit into my vein. A wave of euphoria crashed over me. “Laurie!” I cried his name, dragged into the current of additional pleasure just before my orgasm crashed through me. I jerked against him. He growled, hips bucking wildly, tasting my orgasm in my blood as he came inside me. I felt each lash of his heat filling me as he took his fill of me.

I was limp beneath him, helpless against wave after wave of pleasure as my orgasm went on and on before dying down. Yet, I never reached the bottom. He continued to feed, continued to pump into me. My breath hitched. A second orgasm blindsided me. My nails dug into the skin at his back, leaving scratches everywhere. This time, the intensity was almost painful. I cried out, but could do nothing to fight—didn’t want to. The pleasure-pain was nothing I had ever felt before.

It was almost too much.

As if sensing this, Laurent slowed then fell still. His mouth disappeared and his tongue lapped at me. I lay trembling, still wracked by the aftermath. Everything was so sensitive that each touch made me twitch.

He moved to look at me, and I felt the intensity of his gaze deep inside, my body still pulsing around his cock. I was glad when he didn’t remove himself. Instead, we gazed at each other a long time.

At last, he rested his forehead against mine. “I am ruined,” he whispered against my skin, the confession slipping out as if he hadn’t meant to voice it.

My heart fluttered. As if sensing the effect of his words, he placed a hand between us, just beneath my breast.

“Perhaps you are not ruined, so much as remade,” I said. “Ruin suggests destruction, and there are parts of you I never wish to destroy.”

His eyes widened by a fraction, the motion so small I almost missed it. Then his features hardened into granite. “There is nothing good in me, Lily. Do not fall prey to some romanticized idea of me that does not exist.”

His words were frigid ice water.

“I reserve the right to make my own judgement, Laurent. You cannot take that away from me.”

He shifted, pressing more deeply inside me and I groaned. “All right,” he conceded. “And what judgement have you passed for the male who abducted you? The male who ripped you from the life you made for yourself? The male who caused you great harm and suffering? The male who selfishly claimed you? The male who will never let you go, so long as you live? The male who wants to possess every inch of you, claim all that you are, and lock you away so that none may partake in the beauty you offer this world, simply because he wishes to keep it all for himself?”

I hummed. “You mean the male who bakes me cinnamon rolls before bed? The male who pulled me from darkness after the witches because he felt guilty and wanted to atone? The male who wants to protect his family at all costs? The male who watches me attentively so he may see to my every need? The male who makes me feel worshiped? Adored? The male who wants to keep me when no one else did? That male?”

His throat bobbed, eyes sparking with something unreadable.