Chapter 33

When Trehan knelt before her again, Bettina didn’t immediately gaze at his rampant shaft as he’d expected.

She rose up on her knees in front of him, tilting her head as she took in his face, his chest, his twitching stomach muscles, then finally his cock—as if she wanted to savor her perusal.

Her interest in his body was palpable—and so fucking erotic. At first, she’d surveyed him with an analytical eye. But now her lids went heavy, her breaths shallowing. Those sparkling pinpoints glimmered from her eyes.

A soft moan escaped her, and her hands shot out to his chest as if magnetized. When she feathered her fingertips over his muscles, he hissed in a breath. “You touch me like you do your golds. I watched you in your workshop and wanted you to handle me with such attention.”

“You’re so much harder than gold,” she said, voice gone throaty from her unbridled cries. “You’re as hard as these marble columns.” She squeezed his tensed muscles, then rubbed her palms down his torso. “That night in your tent, I only got to feel you for so brief a time, when I wanted to explore you like this for days.”

You will. Somehow I’ll make it so you get that chance—

She took him in hand; his hips bucked, his knees jerking wider.

“It really is unlike anything I’ve ever felt.”

“It aches for you.” He curled his finger under her chin, catching her gaze. “Forever only for you. Do you understand me? There will be no other.”

When her lips parted, both emotion and arousal surged inside him. Half of him wanted to take her in his arms and crush her against him; half of him wanted to fit his shaft between those carnal lips.

Her halting touches grew bolder, a silky stroke here, an inquisitive heft there. “Is this like you imagined?”

He bit out, “Better than. Impossibly better.”

She rubbed her thumb across the crown. When pre-semen welled to her touch, she unconsciously wetted her lips. His eyes locked on her mouth. She’s ready. . . .

“Vampire, maybe you should lie”—

He traced from her grip, reclining on his back.

—“down,” she finished with a gasp.

He tugged her hand back to his shaft, coaxing her to kneel between his legs. She did, eagerly.

“How should I begin?”

He reached out, grasping her nape, drawing her closer. “Kiss anything you want.”

She tilted her head again, as if debating where to start. Leaning in, she pressed her lips to his neck, then his chest, grazing them over one nipple. She licked the other one.

Never knew I was so sensitive. His hips began to move of their own accord.

As she dipped a kiss lower on his torso, her wild braids trailed over his skin like teasing fingertips. Don’t press her head down . . . don’t press her head . . .

When she nuzzled the hair near his navel, his cock surged for her mouth. So close to those sweet lips of hers.

She grasped the base of his shaft. She aimed it at her mouth. He waited . . . didn’t breathe. . . .

With a tentative lick, she daubed her tongue at the crown. She must have liked his taste; a purring sound of approval fanned from her lips, warm breath tickling across the head.

Enthusiasm? He was doomed.

Then she . . . lapped at the slit for more.

“Ah, Bett!”

A swirling lick around the tip followed, rendering him dizzy with lust. Doomed.

“How am I doing?”

His cock was under her thrall. She had more control over it than he did. With shaking hands, he piled her braids on top of her head, grating, “If only you were this good with gold.” Had his accent ever been so thick?

She gazed up at him with a hint of a grin. “There’s a different dimension to this, so to speak,” she said, just before she closed her lips over him—and sucked.

“Zeii mea!”

That tight seal of her lips slid down his length; his eyes rolled back in his head.

With her fingers splayed around the base of his shaft, she worked her mouth up and down. Taking him deeper each time, she experimented with her clever tongue.

Any lingering inhibition burned away as she got caught up in the act, growing aroused once more.

Her intoxicating scent frenzied him. “Bett, straddle my leg!”

She didn’t ask why, only complied—but her eyes went wide when he moved his leg between her own.

His hand snaked down her back to cup her generous bottom. Palming it, he pressed her against his thigh in a rocking motion.

“Oh!”

He shared her surprise. She was even wetter than before, her flesh dampening his skin. “Does that feel good, dulcea?” Another rock.

“Yes,” she moaned. As she resumed her kiss, she squeezed her thighs together and rocked all on her own, her ass moving like a dream beneath his shaking palm.

Only moments remained for him. He struggled to draw them out, withholding his seed from her. But her scent, her mouth, and her tongue were soon to defeat him.

Her moans around his shaft grew louder; she was on the edge as well.

She pulled away to cry, “Again, vampire?”

He bit out, “Yes, my sweet. Again.” When he flexed his thigh between hers, she continued her wicked kiss. Even as she moaned, she bathed his cockhead with her tongue, wrenching a groan from his chest. Then she took him between her lips once more.

She sucked; he rocked her. Sucking . . . rocking . . .

As seed climbed up his length, she ground against his leg, beginning to come . . . her throaty cries muffled by his shaft.

His throbbing cock. In his Bride’s mouth. As she orgasmed.

Over.

He knew he was about to explode, knew the pressure would pump his spend up to his chin. Her first time—and she didn’t like surprises. He had to stop her. Somehow he had to make her draw away.

With a will he hadn’t known he possessed, he grasped her face and tugged, surrendering the wet heaven of her mouth.

* * *

“Wait! I liked that.” The vampire had made her climax three times, and now he was stopping her before his own release?

“About to . . . come.” He seemed out of his head. His skin gleamed with sweat. Whipcord tendons stood out on his torso.

“I kind of figured that out.”

“Watch me this time, little Bride.” Even though his expression was anguished, his eyes seemed . . . loving. “So you know what to expect the next.”

She stroked his slick length, making him buck in her grip. “Are you sure?”

Between gnashed teeth, he said, “See what you’ve done to me.”

“Well, I had wanted to see this.” Another groan from the vampire.

When she started rubbing his erection, he wrapped his hand around hers. Their gazes met, and together they worked his flesh.

Beneath her palm, she could feel his shaft pulsating, still growing though they squeezed it so hard.

Just when she perceived it beginning to pump, he bit out, “Watch me.”

Eyes gone wide, she did.

The crown erupted with pearly seed, spurting, arcing over his torso. He threw back his head and bellowed, his body wracked with pleasure, muscles straining from it.

Beauty, form . . . function. The vampire yelled in his language, thrashing in their grip. She was awed, speechless as they wrung his semen free.

“It’s for you,” he groaned as his back bowed and his spend lashed up his chest. “Always for you.”

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