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Benedict elected to stand behind me, slipping his hands over my hips instead of going to another running showerhead. His lips were at my ear, and a warm shiver danced along my spine. “With your new powers, mate,” he whispered. “You may be the only one brave enough and strong enough to let him know that.”
I laughed, spinning around to face him. Goddess, he was delicious, all smooth skin over tons of carved muscle, the water running beautiful trails in the groves and dips of his god-like body. I grabbed a handful of his pine-scented body wash, then ran my fingers over his hard abdomen, just because I could.
“Mine,” I said, grinning up at him. I was sure he could see the light dancing in my eyes at the notion, at the mere idea that I got to keep him forever.
“Always.” A low groan rumbled from his throat as he soaped up my breasts, slowly teasing my pert nipples. I sighed, arching into the too light touch, practically trembling as he proceeded to wash the rest of my body, even my hair, as I did the same to him.
The motions were easy, comfortable, yet laced with anticipation. Each innocent touch burned, each casual swipe of his fingers against my skin had an ache wrenching deep inside me. My fangs came down, and I moaned at the release of them when I’d been so damn hungry from training.
He grinned at me, showing me his fangs, and I whimpered at the sight.
“Benedict,” I pled when he seemed content to keep soaping my body.
“Yes?” he teased, seemingly content with his actions, but I could see his desire very clearly from the hard as steel length pressing into my belly.
“Stop torturing me,” I practically whined.
He huffed a laugh, smoothing back some wet strands of hair from my face. “This is considered torture?”
I narrowed my gaze up at him, arching a brow. He wanted to play? Fine.
“No,” I said, and backed into the water, rinsing my body clean before slipping out from under his touch. I sank onto the nearest bench, arching my back slightly as I ran my fingers over my breasts, and down my stomach. Then lower. “This is,” I said, breathless.
Benedict growled again, his predator eyes tracking every single movement I made. And I was certain he was holding his breath as I reached the apex of my thighs. I slid my fingers through my heat, and he bared his fangs.
“Torture enough for you, Benedict?” I said, teasing myself enough to make a moan dance from my lips.
“Wicked, cruel witch,” he said, his voice rough and low, but a smirk shaped his lips as he sank to his knees before me. His hands ran up my thighs, capturing my wrist, stopping my teasing. “Mine,” he growled, and then his mouth was on me.
I gasped from the relentless way he ate at me, fast and frantic. He plunged his tongue inside me, fucking me with his mouth in exactly the way he knew drove me totally crazy. I gripped his wet hair, lifting my hips to take him deeper, my body already coiling toward release—he was that fucking good.
“Say it,” he demanded, the vibrations of his voice sending shockwaves over my sensitive flesh. His fingers roamed in teasing circles over my clit, and I clenched my thighs on either side of his head. “Say it,” he said again.
“Yours!” I said, unable to articulate anything more than that. He grinned against me, upping his pace and pressing down with his thumb on that bundle of nerves—
“Benedict,” I moaned, my entire body shaking as I trembled around him. He licked me through the throes of my orgasm, pulling his face back with a wholly male smile on his lips.
A smile that was quickly replaced with shock as I pounced on him. And with my vampire speed coupled with my witchy powers? I, in fact, could make him move, and I put him right where I wanted him.
Underneath me.
Delight and surprise danced in his eyes as he looked up at me from where I now straddled him on the bench. And he groaned when I wasted no time at all to sink atop his hard cock.
“Fucking hell, Jocelyn,” he growled, gripping my hips, the bite of his fingers sending ripples of pleasure up my spine.
“Goddess,” I sighed, rocking atop him faster. “Will. This. Ever. Get. Old?” I ground out each word, matching each hard rock against him.
“Never,” he said, lifting his hips to thrust inside me deeper.
I dug my nails into his shoulders, using his strength as leverage as I rode him hard and wet. The water cascaded around us, and pillows of steam hovered in the shower, slicking our bodies even more.
Benedict leaned forward, the angle so much deeper as he kissed and flicked his tongue over my nipples. I trembled, my breaths ragged as I continued to ride him, relishing the way he filled me, the way he hit that spot deep inside me that threatened to send me spiraling into orbit.
