Page 167 of Trapped By the Blood Ruby

His eyes darted between mine. “I will leave that decision up to you. But yes, if you wish, you have my blessing. I trust you, so I trust your friend.”

Relief nearly brought me to tears. No more lies or half-truths. I could bring her into this world without feeling guilty about it. I pressed my forehead against his. I didn’t feel quite so exhausted as I had moments ago. In fact, my newfound excitement turned to something else entirely. Something far more hungry and desperate.

Our next kiss was languid. I nipped at his bottom lip, which he took as an invitation.

“You’re sure you have the energy⁠—“

“Yes!” I insisted.

The satisfied sound he made had chills racing over my skin. He pressed against me, putting me on my back before settling between my thighs. He took his time, kissing me slowly before moving his mouth to my jaw, my neck, then my chest. He palmed my breast with one hand and nipped at the other through the fabric of my camisole.

The hard press of his cock had me grinding against him. “Laurie,” I groaned.

“So impatient,” he tsked. But he moved lower and pulled my sleep shorts away. Sleep shorts…

Hadn’t I been wearing jeans?

“Did you…dress me?”

He hesitated, looking me over. “I hope you don’t mind? I wouldn’t let anyone else near you. I am not proud of how I acted after what happened. Even Zola is mad at me right now.” He huffed. “She said I was being ridiculous, or some such.”

I bit my lower lip, rising up on my elbows to better see him. “I don’t mind that you wanted to take care of me.”

“Good. I enjoy caring for you. I certainly don’t wish to share the privilege with anyone else.”

I withheld the grin that wanted to break free. “And for the record, Laurie, you may undress me anytime, conscious or unconscious.

His gaze heated. “Don’t give me any ideas, little flower.”

This time I did smile. He held my gaze for a beat longer, then settled his shoulders between my thighs. I groaned at the first swipe of his warm tongue against my folds. Sparks shot straight to my core, traveling up from the base of my spine. He licked and laved, until I was squirming against him. When he hesitated, teeth hovering over the artery on my thigh, my heart quickened. He gave me enough time to say no, but I had no intention of stopping him.

His teeth sank in and a feral, animalistic sound rumbled from his chest. The first pull of my blood had pleasure zinging through me, hot and electric. Then his fingers slid inside me. He began working me at the same pace as his mouth, drinking and pleasing me in equal measure. My breaths turned frantic, hips bucking with sharp snaps.

I needed this release.

If the ocean was pleasure and each wave my undoing, I was happy to let it drag me under all the way to the sandy bottom. When I reached it, my body clenched and then fractured as I cried out his name, tangling my fingers into his long hair. It had come unbound and was spread around him like soft moonlight caressing my skin.

My hips slowed, each drag sending pulsing aftershocks through my core. He pulled free, licking at the spot where he’d bitten me, then caught my gaze. The sight of his blood-drunk expression undid me.

“Please,” I begged. “I need you in me.” I spread my legs wider.

He growled, then stood and shed his clothes, positioning himself over me. With a single thrust, he was home. I was home. We were each other’s home, and I intended to keep it that way for as long as we both drew breath. Forever, if I had any say in the matter.

45

Laurent drove into Lily with barely restrained control, watching her face morph with need. Need for him—for something only he could offer. Her pulse hammered against his throat. The sound of it was the most beautiful music. He’d come to know the various notes as well as her scent, allowing him to read her. That was how he knew she was close.

He slowed his movements, pulling out until just the tip of him remained.

“Laurie, please,” she whimpered, fingernails scoring his shoulders hard enough to draw blood. He wanted her to mark him. To claim him.

“This,” he growled against her throat, teeth grazing her pulse point, “is what happens when you risk your life for mine.” He pressed back into her, relishing how her back arched off the bed. “You take exactly what I choose to give you. Take it like the beautiful little flower you are.”

A sob broke free—beautiful and desperate as she pleaded for more.

The punishment was exquisite torture for both of them. Each time he denied her release, his own restraint cracked further. But seeing her like this—flushed, writhing, completely at his mercy—was worth the agony. She was alive. Safe. His to claim.

He’d nearly lost her. The image of that blade piercing her chest made something feral rise in his chest. Never again.