Page 13 of The Vampire’s Ballerina

“Pietro…” Her fingers press into my face, and my name is a soft sigh between our kisses.

I squeeze her derrière. Her hips roll, and I can feel how warm and wet she is through the flimsy undergarment covering her.

“Pietro, please…”

She thrusts her hips again, and I grip her harder, preventing her from moving at all. Short, desperate breaths escape my lips, and I clench my teeth, shutting my eyes and pressing my forehead against hers.

“Imogen.” My voice is raspy and weak. “I am… It has been… a while… since I have been with anyone, and I am one roll of your hips away from spilling myself into my pants.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re a living fantasy, rubbing your wet pussy against my dick while your scent swirls around me and drives me insane.” I drag my hand through my hair. “I may be ancient, but I’m still just a man, Imogen.”

“No, I mean, why has it been so long for you?”

I pull back and meet her questioning gaze. Her eyes still hold a hint of uncertainty.

“You know why, Imogen.” I slide my hands up her back, beneath her dress. Her skin is so soft, so warm, so delicate. “And I know you have been with others since you arrived here, but none of that matters to me. All that matters is that you’re mine now.”

Her throat bobs. I wait on pins and needles for her to push me away or argue with me, but she doesn’t. Instead, her heart rate picks up, and she dives forward, kissing me again, wrapping her arms around my neck. My chest pulses and my blood sings, harmonizing with the song of her blood—the song that has played in my mind since the day I met her.

I blink us into my bedroom, leaving our clothes—aside from our underwear—behind in the living room.

“Condom?” Imogen pants between our kisses. “I’m on the pill, but—“

“Don’t need one.” I barely remove my lips from hers as I move us to my bed. “There’s no risk—of anything—with me.”

“Good,” she moans, “because I want to feel all of you, just as you are.”

She strokes my chest as I lay her out beneath me. Her soft curls fan out against the black silk sheets, and her legs make room for me to settle my hips against hers.

My fingers move to the front clasp of her black lace bra. “You’re so beautiful, mia dolce ballerina.”

The flimsy excuse of an undergarment falls open, revealing her petite breasts with rose-pink nipples. I trace the curves, groaning at the delicate softness and the way her nipples harden and tighten without me even touching them. Imogen whines and arches beneath me, her nails digging into my chest.

Her skin against mine is wondrous, her body more breathtaking than any other.

I slide one hand down her body as I continue to tease her breasts with the other. Our lips hover close together, but we’re not quite kissing anymore. When my fingers meet the waistband of her underwear, I tug it down, using my vampire speed to pull them all the way off and hover back over her in less than a second.

Her eyes widen, and I swipe my fingertips between the lips of her soaking-wet entrance. Her pussy is just as soft as the rest of her, just as sensitive, as I play and explore, dipping my fingers inside and circling her clit. Her body responds without restraint, writhing on the silk sheets, moans falling from her lips.

“You’re so wet for me, piccola ballerina.“ I plunge my fingers in further and brush my thumb over her clit.

She shudders—hard—her body tensing.

“And so close to falling apart for me already.” I smirk at her. “Tell me, dolcezza mia—my sweet—did you touch yourself at all this week? Or did you resist the temptation so you could experience pure euphoria at the hands of your Pietro?”

She clenches the sheets in her fists and tosses her head from side to side. Her body moves with the rhythm of my fingers in her pussy as she bites her lip, trying to hold out longer.

My smile spreads. Her tense body and her rapid breathing are answer enough. She’s been waiting for this evening with as much anticipation as me, keeping her fingers to herself like a good little ballerina. And now she’s all mine, spread out for me like the sweet dessert she is, ready for me to taste and to please.

I move to the edge of the bed, removing my boxer briefs. Then I tug her by her ankles until her ass is right at the mattress’s edge. Her feet are on either side of it with her knees bent, leaving her open and exposed. She scans my naked body again, lingering on my cock as it points right where we both want it to go.

Goddess, I can’t believe this is actually happening. Years of denying this most primal need to be with her—to have her and keep her as mine—are finally coming to an end.

I line myself up with her, notching my tip at her entrance, and gaze down at her, memorizing her expression. And as I slide in and out, inch by inch, until her heat envelops all of my length, I hold her intense, uninhibited gaze with the same conviction she gives me.

Once I’m fully inside her, I grip her hips and clench my jaw. I swallow and still my movements, staring down at her, splayed out beneath me. Her chest rises and falls with each breath, her pink nipples hard as diamonds and pointing straight at the ceiling. Her plush lips are parted, and a flush covers her body. She looks like sin but feels like heaven, a beautiful contrast, a flawless mix of sensuality and perfection come to life.