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I take myself in hand, stroking slowly and catching her attention. When she sucks her lower lip in, I still.
“Spread your legs, little lamb,” I chide, and am rewarded with a shy grin as she does so... barely. Growling at her malicious compliance, I lean forward and force her legs as wide as she can go. “There we go,” I murmur as I drag a finger up between her slick folds, coating myself in her arousal. Holding her gaze, I lick my finger clean. “Delicious.”
“Ambrose,” Eloise whimpers so beautifully, her chest rising and falling rapidly with her breath. “I want you.”
I stand, nudging my way between her legs. I grip her thick, soft waist with one hand and stroke myself against her sex, teasing her clit.
“Remember what I told you in this very office, little lamb?” I murmur before dipping my head down and capturing a nipple between my lips. Her head falls back, moaning as she reaches for my shirt. When she doesn’t answer, I release her nipple with a wet pop and tug her chin down until her lust-glazed eyes meet mine. “I won’t fuck you until you beg, little lamb. So say pretty please.”
Her nostrils flare and then she’s leaning up towards me, her heels digging into the back of my thighs as I narrowly keep my cock from sliding into her eager channel. She wraps my tie around her fist, holding me tight.
“Won’t you fuck me, pretty please, my king?” she purrs with a flutter of her eyelashes.
Ignoring the defiant sarcasm, I fulfill her request. Slamming into her, I snarl and squeeze my eyes tight against the onslaught of her body. If I thought her mouth was divine, her cunt is beyond words as it pulls me in, pulsating around me and threatening to send me to the edge already.
Holding her fast to me, I grab the back of her head and our mouths meet in a desperate collision as I begin to thrust. Eloise clings to me, her hands scraping over my shirt until I finally rip it from me, needing to feel her skin against my own. Her laughter blending with sweet moans taunts me as I shove down my pants and kick my feet free before shoving the computer monitor to the floor. I don’t give a fuck if its broken or not; I can get a new one. But I’ll go mad if I can’t cover Eloise’s body with my own.
Laying her out lengthwise, I palm her ass and lift her hips as I thrust back into her. Our hands are frantic, touching and grabbing and holding on to one another as our bodies continue to collide.
Eloise’s moans become shorter, higher, and her channel clamps down harder around me. She’s teetering on the edge, and I’m nearly there with her. I slide a hand between us, seeking out her swollen clit with my thumb, but I can’t bring myself to ease her madness yet.
Baring my teeth against her chest, right above her heart, I groan as my fangs elongate. The need to claim her as my mate squeezes the air from my lungs.
“You’re mine, Eloise. Tell me you’re mine.” My words are so guttural I’m amazed when she responds.
“Yes, Ambrose. I’m yours.” Her words are so broken, I raise my mouth from her heart vein and I’m astounded at the vulnerability in her eyes. Vulnerability and desire and hope and an affection I’ve done so little to be worthy of. An affection I will spend the rest of my eternal life earning.
“Do you want to know my secret?” I ask, slowing my thrusts to long, steady strokes, keeping the both of us dancing on the knife’s edge of pleasure. When she nods, I shudder and hide my face by brushing a kiss across her racing heart. Dropping the guise of the cold king, I burn for her when I speak. “We were made for each other, little lamb. You’re my mate, and I can never, never let you go. Not in a few weeks, not in a year. Never. To lose you would be to lose myself.”
She tenses when I first speak, and I’m close enough to hear her heart beating harsher against her ribs. I wait, a terror that she’ll refuse me tracing a cold finger down my spine. Her whiskey eyes widen as her vulnerability recognizes my own and a ferocity overtakes her. She grabs the back of my head and pulls me to her mouth, kissing me harshly.
“You’re mine, Ambrose d’Vil,” she says against my lips. “Even if you could let me go, I won’t let you go.”
I snap my hips into hers, both of us raggedly breathing as we kiss, sloppy and desperate. I make my way down her neck to her heart vein once more, dragging my fangs against her skin.
“Bite me,” she whimpers, arching harder against me until my fangs prick her skin. “Please.”
Sinking my fangs into her heart vein, I strum her clit with my thumb as I drink in her heart blood. The fresh blood of her heart, forever marking her as mine and only mine. Eloise shatters around me, her nails digging into my back and drawing blood. I’m glad of it, hoping she cuts deep enough so I can wear her mark as she now will wear mine.
Her pleasure still milks me, pulling me closer and closer towards following her into bliss, I take one last swallow of her blood. Relenting on her clit, I cut a gash across my chest, against my own heart vein and guide her mouth towards me.
“Drink,” I beg, ragged. When she hesitates, I shake my head. “It won’t turn you. Claim me as yours, ma belle lionne.”
Her lips press against the bleeding wound, and the sweet pull of her mouth sends me over the edge with a roar. I spill into Eloise, my heart-marked mate, with a growl that shakes the bulletproof glass wall. Then her core clenches around me as she comes again, dragging out my own pleasure until I’m weak and she slumps back against the desk. Braced on my forearms on either side of her shoulders, I rest my forehead against hers and she clings to my waist with limp hands.
As my heart begins to settle, I run my nose against hers, reveling at the sensation of... happiness filling my chest. Eloise is my mate, and she’s claimed me as her own—vampire or not. She’s drank from my heart vein and there will never be another for either of us.
Chapter Twenty
Eloise
Icould never have imagined how giving into the primal craving for Ambrose would change my life, or how quickly. To be honest, after we finally combusted in his office, I don’t think either of us thought of anything other than each other for the next two days.
Ambrose took me home—the place I truly feel is home—and we didn’t leave the bedroom for two days. I’ve never been more sleep-deprived or sexually satisfied. I had no spare room in my thoughts for anything except getting my hands on Ambrose, taking him into me, getting as close as I can since I can’t physically burrow my way into his chest and live within his skin.
The part of me that always sensed him is stronger now. I can sense more than his presence or what direction he’s in. Now I have a seventh sense that is specifically Ambrose. In the few stretches of times we were awake and able to keep our hands to ourselves, he explained what mates are. To be honest, I expected to panic, and I’m still waiting for it to hit.
I’ve bound myself to an ageless creature, and he’s bound himself to me. It’s like going from a simple infatuation to way more committed than marriage, skipping all the steps in between. Considering how I’ve avoided committing to anyone relationship-wise, other than my friendship with Deidre, then combined with Ambrose’s sheer radiance of authority, I should be clawing at the walls, desperate to escape.
