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As the extra supply began leaving her body, euphoria rained down on her. She was lost in all the sensations, in her love for this man, in the feel of him working her body and in how hungrily he took her blood.
His mating vibration had already punched inside her and now surrounded hers, but not gently like before. This was a commanding flow of energy, a dominance move that the wolf in her loved. She felt herself flowing from one vibration to another, back and forth, then from Rosamunde to Aralynn. Each ‘self’ gave and took something different.
Rosamunde had more pure affection. Aralynn focused on his cock. Rosamunde savored that she was sustaining him with her life force. Aralynn kept feeling up the heavy muscles of his arms, shoulders and back.
Ecstasy built quickly and the harder he sucked, the closer she got to the final climb. That’s it, stone. Drink me the fuck down. Aralynn’s voice.
He didn’t respond with words, just more grunting as he sucked on her neck and pistoned inside her.
Stone, you’re magnificent. Rosamunde.
More grunting and his hips went faster.
He was hard as a rock and when he released a vibration from his cock, she fell right over the cliff of ecstasy.
She hoped they were in the middle of a very large forest because she couldn’t hold back the cries of pleasure as her body pulsed inside. The feel of him, as he broke from her neck and roared his own release, took the orgasm to a new height that had her crying out in a high, shrill sound. Pleasure rolled up and up, through her abdomen and grabbed her heart.
A beautiful explosion followed until she was soaring into the heavens.
~ ~ ~
Stone came back to himself in slow, euphoric stages. His head felt light and almost blank. He wasn’t even sure where he was, except that he had his cock inside Rosamunde, the Queen of Ferrenden Peace. Or was it Aralynn?
Sweet Goddess. How had this happened?
And how had he ended up so out of control? Had Rosamunde somehow done this to him?
He had to start back at the beginning. Delia had been pathing with him, rattling on about some blog that had interviewed three of the blood roses and how Willow, Malik’s mate, wanted another mastyr the moment she saw him as though her blood rose drive had no discernment.
Panic had set in. That he could remember.
He’d pathed with Rosamunde and learned she was intent on delivering her blood somewhere, anywhere. The moment his brain made sense of her intentions, he’d plowed air faster than ever before. His heart had beat so hard he’d wondered why it hadn’t exploded.
But all that was nothing to the sight of Rosamunde, in a do-me-now outfit, with a mastyr vampire at her throat.
The rest was a blur that involved beating Mastyr Rez senseless before he knew what hit him and then what felt like a monkey scrambling onto his back.
Rosamunde. Right.
Then it seemed like the whole room all but tackled him and he spun in circles until he couldn’t move anymore. It had taken six shifters to stop him.
Rosamunde’s voice had helped him come down from his rampage, but images of Rez at her throat had him flying her out of there and up into the Dauphaire Mountains. He needed to show the woman that she wouldn’t be feeding anyone else so long as he was alive. And as for her body taking another cock, well, fuck that.
She belonged to him.
When his breathing had finally settled down, his rational mind returned in full. He was pressed up against Rosamunde and had her secured with his body to a pine tree. Her legs were still wrapped around him, his cock buried deep.
Rosamunde?
Hmm? She sounded so strange, not like herself or Aralynn.
He drew back slowly and looked at her face. Her eyes were closed and because his vampire vision lit up the night, he could see that she really had gotten dressed up for the occasion. She’d caked on some dark violet or maybe brown eye-shadow, maybe both.
She looked different, not like the queen at all. She wore a couple of braids, but these were meant only to hold her hair back a little.
Are you hurt? He had to know. He’d acted like a tornado and maybe she’d gotten injured in the process.
No. Even in his head her pathing voice sounded odd, not all there. And her eyes were still closed. She sighed. I’m not hurt. I’m happy.
