Page 59 of Inked & Bloodbound

I clamp my mouth on her, fingers digging into the meat of her ass, my tongue insistent and unrelenting. The taste, the heat, the electric current of her climax surges through me like a goddamn flood. She’s making these wild, feral noises now, her thighs locking around my head like a vise, her hands scraping at my skin as she falls apart.

“Fuck,” she gasps as she comes, and it’s like a ringing of a bell. Bright and clear, it pierces the air. It’s the first word spoken aloud in an hour, and it’s a perfect one.

Breathless, desperate, but so beautifully human.

I collapse into her, and she flops back onto the stairs. We stay there for a moment, both catching our breath, her legs still draped over my shoulders, my forehead resting against her thigh.

The silence is broken by her soft laughter.

"What's so funny?" I ask, lifting my head to look at her.

She gestures around us with a lazy hand, taking in the scene: me kneeling on her stairs, pants still tangled around my ankles, her skirt bunched up around her waist. "This. Us. We couldn't even make it ten feet into my house."

"Shit," I mutter, trying to untangle myself and nearly losing my balance on the narrow step. "This is not exactly how I imagined this going."

"Oh, really?" She sits up on her elbows, grinning at me with flushed cheeks and mussed hair. "And how exactly did you imagine it going, Mr. Centuries of Experience?"

Heat rises in my face. "Well, for starters, I thought I'd at least make it to your bedroom. Maybe show you some of that legendary vampire charisma I have."

She reaches out and traces my stubble with one finger, her touch gentle and teasing. "I hate to break it to you, but there was nothing graceful about the way you nearly tripped over your own pants ten minutes ago."

"I was distracted," I protest, but I'm smiling now too.

"By what?"

"You."

She sits up fully and cups my face in both hands. "For someone who's had a long time to perfect this stuff, you’re acting kinda…human. But hey, I still think we can blame any awkwardness on the whole priest thing."

A wicked grin twitches on the edge of my lips. "I was a man long before I was a priest."

"Oh, I can tell," she says, then her grin returns. "Now, are you going to carry me to a real bed like a gentleman, or are we spending the night on my uncomfortable stairs?"

I finally manage to kick free of my jeans and stand, scooping her up in my arms before she can protest. She squeals and wraps her arms around my neck, laughing as I carry her up the stairs.

"Much better," she declares. "Now, if it’s okay with you, I’d like you to take a few minutes to recover, then do exactly what you promised."

I carry her like she’s a perfect bundle of precious cargo, steadily ascending toward the bedroom. “You know I’m not bound by that ridiculous human stuff, right? I’m ready when you are.”

"Is that so?" she asks, raising an eyebrow as I reach the top of the steps.

"Mmhmm. And we have all night."

20

LILY

I’m floating in that perfect space between sleep and consciousness, my body humming with satisfaction for the first time in a long time. Cassini’s arm is draped across my back, his cold skin providing a delicious contrast against my warmth. I press my cheek into the chill of his chest and hold it there, enjoying the strange sensation of the tingle creeping up my face.

“Are you sure you’re not too cold?” he asks, the deep tone of his voice reverberating in his chest. “I’m worried you’re going to get sick.”

“I like it,” I say, rubbing my face against him like a needy pet. “I hate being too warm, so this is perfect.”

His voice fills my head, but it’s not intrusive.I’m at your service, amore.

My hands wander to search for the scar between his shoulder blades, but I can’t reach. I first felt it as I raked my nails over his back as he ground his hips against mine. It was raised and rough, different from the smooth perfection of the rest of his skin—almost like a brand or burn that had healed badly.

When my fingers traced over it, exploring the strange texture, he’d suddenly flipped me over, pinning my hands above my head so I couldn’t reach it anymore. The movement was swift, almost violent,and for just a moment I’d seen something flash across his face—not desire, but something darker. Fear, maybe. Or shame.