“That’s beautiful, Leah, but I don’t want you to beg.”
My body moving on its own, desperate for release, desperate for him, I pressed my hips into his but he withheld.
“Leah,” he gritted between his teeth, clearly seeking control, “before the joining, you need to answer one question.”
I nodded, too far gone to do much else.
His lips came to mine, his eyes still open, in his rumbly voice that now seemed even more intense, he asked, “Are you mine?”
My body stilled.
This was it. I had to make a choice and once I did there was no going back.
The answer came to me, the only one there was.
My arms held on tight just as my legs circled his hips and did the same.
“If you give me you, Lucien, then I promise, I’ll give you me.”
I watched close up as his eyes flashed.
Then he drove in deep.
I arched my neck in pleasure and cried out as it mingled with a hint of pain.
Seated to the hilt, he filled me completely. He was so big, I had no idea how I accommodated him. It didn’t matter. It was so beautiful to be joined to him, connected to him, filled by him, I welcomed the pain.
“You have me, Leah,” he murmured in my ear and he was not wrong. I had him, all of him or, likely, all that I ever was really going to get.
I knew this and at that moment I couldn’t bring myself to care.
Because all of Lucien, what filled me, what pinned me to the bed and everything else that he’d gifted me with this past month was far, far more than I’d ever had from anyone else.
I twisted my head to look at him, my arms and legs tightened and I whispered, “Then I’m yours, Lucien.”
At my words, his mouth took mine in a hungry, dueling kiss and he started moving.
It was gorgeous.
While driving deep, his thrusts opening me, widening me, filling me full again and again and again and again, the pressure built, excruciating and fantastic.
Cataclysmic was the word for it. I was rocking underneath him, lifting my knees, giving him more, taking more from him, insatiable, the pressure building, becoming unbearable, ripping through me.
His lips released mine, his hand went into my hair, tugging my head back.
Then his mouth went to my neck and I felt his tongue. Then I felt him feeding. I felt my blood flow into his mouth, pouring out with each deep, savage thrust. Once, twice, three times, four.
Then suddenly I hit paradise and came. And I came hard, wrapping him as tight as I could in my convulsing limbs and forgetting everything but Lucien, his heavy body, his scent, the feel of him, his mouth at my neck, my blood nourishing him while I felt him plunging deep inside.
There had never been better and there never would be. Maybe not only in my life but in the history of Buchanans.
I was sliding down the wave, my body still jolted by his thrusts, small, contented whimpers escaping my lips when his tongue swept my neck, his mouth claimed mine and his tongue drove inside so I could taste myself on him. The taste of me on his tongue enhanced the intimacy in an unexplainably profound way that shattered my soul.
Then he slammed inside me until he was seated full to the root and I felt his body spasm powerfully, shaking me with him as his deep groan filled my mouth. His orgasm, and the depth of it, caused a sense of triumphant elation so powerful, it felt like it shredded me straight through to my core.
Shredded, shattered, sated and moved beyond anything I could imagine by the splendor of our joining, uncharacteristically of me I didn’t fight the feeling.
I drew it in, pulled it close, held it safe and I wrapped my limbs even tighter around my vampire.
My eyes opened when Lucien set me in bed.
I saw the sun peeking weakly through the curtains. It was nearly morning.
I’d been dozing or, more accurately, passed out.
He slid in behind me, his arm curling around my waist, pulling me to his heat, holding me close.
I settled against him.
After the first time, we’d done it four more times.
Four.
More.
Times.
That was five, in total.
The first was by far and away the best but it was up for grabs which reigned supreme of the other four. I could likely argue in favor (for hours) for all of them.
The last time was on the couch in the comfy seating area off the kitchen. We’d gone down to raid the fridge. Or I had, I was starved. Lucien had been feeding a lot, he couldn’t be hungry. And we got sidetracked.
It was the first time he let me be on top. After we were done, still joined, I rested my torso on his wide chest, burrowed my face into his neck and fell fast asleep.
I didn’t know how long ago that was. It could have been minutes or it could have been hours. Now I was awake and, out of nowhere, it hit me.
And it felt like I’d been struck by lightning.
Lucien’s behavior was not about making me cow to him, to submit, to change, to be something he wanted to force me to be.
He’d said and demonstrated more than once that he always wanted me.
Just me.
It was about me submitting to what he was.
I had to accept him, in all his bossy, domineering vampire-ness and the other sweet or gentle or generous parts besides.
He wasn’t taming me.
He was taming that part in me that held me away from his differentness. He was showing me who he was, what he was, how he behaved and I had to accept it, all of it, without him being anything but Lucien.
You live your day-to-day life hiding the essence of who you are; you don’t want to let someone into that life who won’t accept you for that same thing.
Even embrace it. Even rejoice in the beauty of it.
I felt tears fill my eyes.
I was such a moron!
“Sweetheart?”
Oh my God.
Could he hear tears? That would suck!
“What?” I asked and I was pleased my voice sounded normal.
“You aren’t asleep.”
“Um…” I couldn’t answer. I was busy trying to control my tears and I succeeded but just barely.
“Is there something on your mind?” he queried gently.
Yes, many things were on my mind. Weighty things. Ayers Rock style weight or at least it felt like it.
“Not really,” I lied.
His arm grew tight. “You can sleep, Leah. What happened last night won’t happen again.”
He thought I was worried about my dream.
I wasn’t worried about my dream.
Though, now that he brought it up.
“How do you know?” I asked.
“I’m here,” he answered.
All right, so I pretty much believed that Lucien was big enough, bad enough, fast enough and strong enough to kick anyone’s ass but a phantasmagorical dream that mysteriously hangs its victim? I was thinking even he couldn’t beat that.
I made a decision. It was a scary decision but I made it and seeing as I was so freaking stubborn, once made I’d see it through, no matter that it scared the heck out of me.
“Are you tired?” I asked.
“Yes, pet.” I felt his face move into my hair before he muttered, all vampire sexy, “I’m very tired.”
Oh. Well then.
Maybe I couldn’t see it through.
Knowing I’d tired out the Mighty Vampire Lucien with all our sexual antics and thinking that was pretty cool thus being pretty pleased with myself, I decided I didn’t care.
He went on, “But if you wish to talk…”
As was my way, instantly, I changed my mind (again) and took my shot.