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The kiss causes birds take flight in my chest, spreading through the rest of me, until they become something hot and wild and free, and then he’s moving me backward, our hands roaming over each other, grabbing, holding, pulling, trying to get closer and closer until my back slams against the floor-to-ceiling window.
With a grunt he reaches down and grabs my ass, lifting me up and pressing me against the glass while I wrap my legs around his waist. He quickly unzips his pants and shoves my dress up to the waist, then braces himself on the window as he pushes himself inside me.
I cry out softly, already wet as sin, and expand around him, feeling the heat between us begin to build, the connection fusing us together in bands of gold.
His lowers his head, his mouth about to go to my neck, but he pauses, staring at me. “Does it hurt?” he whispers. “Your neck...”
I almost forgot about the chunk the vampire took out of me. I can’t even tell if it’s healing or not, but it doesn’t hurt anymore.
I shake my head, running my hand through his hair. “No. I’m okay.”
His mouth goes tight, eyes glimmering. “No one will ever hurt you again. I won’t let that happen. I won’t.”
“I know now what happens if they do,” I tell him.
“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he says softly.
“I’m not,” I tell him. “I saw what you would do for me.”
“I will do so much more for you.” He swallows, eyes shooting sparks. “You’re mine, Lenore. You always have been. Mine and only mine. Forever mine.”
The possessiveness of a vampire is truly something, but with Solon it’s on another level. And I love it.
Then he bites my ear, thrusting back inside me, with fevered urgency this time.
I moan, gripping him tight, making a fist in his hair, and he slams his cock up into me, binding us together, his teeth razing over my jaw, my chin, then up to my mouth, sucking in my lower lip, fucking me with his tongue.
Devotion. I feel his devotion in every ounce of his touch, every thrust of his hips. I feel like he might just belong to me after all.
As if hearing my thoughts, he lets out another rough growl and pushes me back against the glass even harder, his speed picking up, fucking me like a tireless machine. His breath is raspy at my ear, shaking with exertion. I feel the strength in his muscles beneath my hands, know how powerful of a creature he is, and soon a cracking sound is filling the air.
I turn my head to the side in time to see the glass behind me starting to crack, long spidery lengths spreading along the window.
We’re twenty-two floors up.
“Jesus,” I swear, grabbing his neck as he keeps pumping up into me, the window splintering more each time. “Solon. You’re going to shatter the window.”
He pulls his head back to look at me, eyes glazed. “You’d survive the fall.” He gives me a twisted smile. “Probably.”
Before I can say anything to that, he’s whisking me off the window and turning me around, pulling out of me right before he throws me on the bed where I bounce, landing on my knees.
Then his hands grip my hips positioning me on the mattress, and I hear a tearing sound as he rips my dress right in half. Seven thousand dollar’s worth of red silk falls around me like a pool of blood.
He’s on me again, kneeling from behind, then there’s a moment of silence, a pause where I can hear both our hearts racing, the sharp exhales of our breath, and then he dips his head, running his tongue from my pussy to my ass.
“Oh god,” I cry out, my head in the mattress, fingers curling around the duvet. He eats me out like a man starved, face buried, licking, sucking, flicking his tongue over every wet inch of me, the sound obscene, turning me on even more.
Then, as I’m coming, shaking, crying out, he positions himself and pushes his cock inside me, a low hiss emanating from him. “Fuck, moonshine,” he says, his voice strangled, and then he slowly pulls out, dragging over every fevered nerve, because I’m still coming, my body still pulsing.
Everything becomes a blur and my mind turns off, perhaps short-circuiting, and I just hear and smell and feel.
The loud slap of his hips against my ass.
The feel of his hand on my waist, gripping me so tight, his palm so large and warm and strong.
The smell of our sex in the air, spicy, heady, fully intoxicating.
He picks up the pace and the intensity and it’s all I can do to hold on, afraid that if I let go of the bed, I’ll go right through the headboard.
