Heaven Sent

Chapter Thirty-One

"Planning to devour me?"

I'm unsure of her meaning until I remember what my appearance must look like. Glowing eyes, dilated pupils, elongated fangs. She doesn't look the least bit frightened. "I wanted to heal you... Go back to sleep. It's still early."

"I'm not tired," she yawns.

"We don't have to be at the metro until nine. Rest."

She grabs my hand, which had been resting against her hip and guides it over the silk sheets. "What if I said I didn't want to waste a single second of this?"

She pushes her hair back from her shoulder, baring her throat, her shoulder, her entire torso. The floral scent entices my senses but cannot capsulate the mouthwatering hum of liquid just under the base of her skin. My lips gravitate to the place of easiest access, hovering over the curve of her shoulder and neck. "You are treading dangerous ground, woman."

"I want it," she insists, her breath hitching with surprise when my hand settles comfortably over her breast, drawing her to me. She didn't suspect I'd be willing. More than willing. At this moment, damn my scruples.

"I know you do."

She quivers, shifting her backside suggestively into my groin as my fingers clamp around her pert nipple, gently tugging until she stops moving, stops breathing altogether. Once I do, rubbing the hot area to build on her sensitivity, her breaths have escalated to gasps.

She shoves the sheets off of us impatiently, taking hold of my thigh. My nose is buried in her hair, inhaling that to keep myself from sinking into her flesh. Her blood is pungent and unique, a rarity among the species. There is nothing like it.

The rolling thunder that echoes around us in surround sound as the storm escalates reminds me of where we are, the significance of the place I have brought her to. She fits extremely well in my stepping-grounds, the place of my youth, where my innocence was lost forever.

I dip my hand between her warm thighs, pushing one leg apart from the other until her foot settles on the bed behind my leg. Keen of her own form and sure of it's beauty, she is unafraid to be spread out before me. Looking down at her over her milky shoulder, the sight of her heaving breasts, the long, flat slope of her belly leading to the apex of her legs, hardens my cock to steel against her back.

The incessant urge within my body that craves to take her hard and drink from her throat freely must be suppressed. There are times when we lose ourselves. This is not such a moment.

Settling my attentions elsewhere, my hand disappears between her thighs, covering her mound. With one arm wrapped around her chest, the other becomes preoccupied with exploring my new wife, gratefully caressing the body she's given freely to me for better or worse, as long as we shall live.

Drifting between her thighs, up and down, side-to-side, internally and externally, I fondle her in the places I know she enjoys, confident of my ability to arouse her quickly. Within seconds, her hips gyrate against me, weak moans reluctantly escaping her lips. She is sleek. I bring the wetness to her lips. She takes in her own sweetness eagerly, moaning loudly enough that I pull my fingers back, driving them through my own mouth. One taste and I've lost control.

My hand grabs her face, turning her towards me. I kiss her deeply, freely, madly, drinking in her tongue. While I suspect part of her will always carry remnants of the darkness that has so long torn her, in this moment, she is a bright, white-hot light. Her mouth is eager, her tongue wet. Her heart pounds underneath my palm as I shift us both to align myself to her from behind.

I plan to be gentle, but when the moment comes, when I thrust into her and she cries out with pleasure, reaching behind my thigh to grab hold of my ass, I am incapable of it. We grunt together in unison as I take her, bathing the back of her neck with kisses until she shivers from it, until she is sensitive everywhere. Until there isn't a single place she cannot feel me.