Page 203 of Vampire so Virtuous

She knew he would, and braced herself for the sting of his fangs, and the rush of pleasure that would follow. “You can feed whenever you wish.”

His eyes flickered blue. “There is more than one way to taste you.”

It took a second for the meaning to sink in, then he placed his palms on her thighs, gently parting them before lowering between her legs.

She gasped at the first lick, then again as his tongue pressed inside her. Her hips bucked, but he slid his arms beneath her legs and held her helpless, just as he wanted her. She could do nothing but surrender herself to him, her mind swept away in the wave of sensation, until a whimper slipped from her lips.

Antoine released one trembling thigh to slide a finger inside her. He proved he hadn’t forgotten a thing, unerringly finding that spot within her, curling his finger as he stroked in slow, deliberate movements. Her body arched, fists clenched in the sheets, and she wasn’t prepared for the sting of his fangs piercing the soft, delicate skin of her thigh. Pain and pleasure mingled as he fed from her, the pressure in her core building so rapidly that it erupted all at once, and she cried out, the world blurring into light and heat.

He licked at the bite he’d made, soothing it, and she knew he’d taken little of her blood, yet her body still thrummed with the pleasure he’d bestowed with tongue, touch, and teeth. She drew a ragged breath, trembling beneath him, unable to find words. Her breath escaped in a shuddering moan.

Just when she thought he had finished, his tongue found her again.

“Enough, please,” she gasped, breathless. “Too sensitive.”

“But you said no more hesitation.” He resumed his torment.

It began as soft, gentle licks, but soon grew into a relentless storm, driving her to unbelievable heights as his tongue played over her with a hint of his vampiric speed. She cried out again, forced to endure as pleasure and pain collided—but pleasure won. She fisted her hands in his hair, pulling him tight against her as he drove her into another crashing release, so overwhelming that her cries fell silent, her body shuddering beneath his mouth.

Antoine rested his forehead against her thigh, giving her time to catch her breath, before placing a kiss where he’d sunk his fangs and gently licking her skin.

“You sadist,” she breathed when she could. “There’s no doubt: you still are a monster.”

He chuckled. “Your monster.”

“I can’t move. Do I have to move?”

“I’m not done with you yet.”

He crawled up with his usual fluid grace, gathering her hands as he came, pinning them above her head, his grip gentle yet unyielding. She was too limp and sated to resist, but even if she weren’t, his strength left her little room to fight—and she wasn’t sure she wanted to. Instead, she lifted her chin, offering her lips, and he claimed his kiss. She tasted herself on his tongue and moaned into his mouth, lifting her legs to open herself to him, rubbing her calves along his thighs.

His arousal brushed against her, both hard and soft, and she realized she wasn’t sated at all, but hungry for more. She bucked her hips against him, seeking him, but instead, he drew back—always so aggravating.

“I told you,mon amour, some things cannot be rushed.”

His lips nuzzled the side of her neck, and she knew what would follow. She longed to feel the sting of his fangs again, and the pleasure they brought.

But Cally wanted him to know that she wasn’t his docile prey. She wasn’t going to make it easy for him.

She turned her head into him, blocking his access to her neck, then squirmed beneath him as if trying to escape. It made no sense to play at it, not when he was so much stronger and faster. She threw everything she had against him, bucking and writhing, the illusion of resistance exciting her in a way she couldn’t deny.

His grip tightened on her wrists, his weight pinning her to the bed, preventing her struggles. With one hand, he pressed her wrists to the sheet,the other trailing down her body to her breast. His thumb brushed over her stiff nipple, teasing it. “Say ‘stop,’ otherwise I will think you are not so serious.”

Antoine had read her perfectly, and she had no intention of saying stop. Instead, she arched her back, pressing her breast into his palm. “I can’t fight you,” she said, closing her eyes. “You are too strong. And besides, I don’t want to.”

He released her then, freeing her hands, but she lay as she had before, eyes still closed, surrendering. Not just to him, but to theideaof him—as a man, as a vampire, as her bonded—recognition that he was what she wanted, a renewal of her acceptance.

And he’d called her ‘my love’.

“You are perfect,” he breathed, then lowered his head to take her other nipple between his lips.

“I’m yours,” she responded, as much to hear herself say it as to tell him.

Her hands traced over his shoulders, feeling the heat of his skin, the hardness of his muscles beneath, hearing his soft sighs at her touch. His hands were roaming too, one caressing her flank while the other palmed her breast, and his weight on her was an anchoring comfort.

“You’re always so warm,” she marveled, but her words faded into a gasp as he rocked his hips against hers. She clutched him to her, her feet pulling at the firm curve of his ass, trying to entice him into her. “Please, Antoine, no more teasing.”

He raised himself up on his hands, gazing down at her with such tenderness that it made her heart clench, and his eyes shifted from lilac to deep purple… then to red.