Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 116618 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116618 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
And then he’s inside me—slowly at first but then deeper, harder—a strangled sound escaping his lips as I arch up to meet him, as I feel every inch of him fill some dark hollow I never knew existed.
He thrusts again and again, each movement building on Katya’s earlier work until my mind spins out of control and my body follows it into freefall.
I hear laughter—Tatiana’s? Katya’s?—a high tinkling sound like breaking glass. But I can’t focus on anything except this man who once seemed so far away but is now closer than breath or blood or bone.
“Yes,” Katya purrs again. “That’s it.”
She stands over us, her gown falling from one shoulder as she runs her fingers through Victor’s hair with gentle possession. I should hate her for that touch—he’s mine, after all—but all I can do is cling tighter to him before everything else dissolves completely.
The candles waver in their holders; shadows flicker across the walls in long fevered arcs while Victor drives deeper still—while both of us hurtle toward another shared oblivion even more reckless than before.
“Now you understand,” Tatiana murmurs from somewhere beyond sight or sense. “This is where you belong.”
Callahan continues to fuck me, his rhythm unrelenting, each thrust more desperate than the last, the chaise lounge creaking under the weight of his movement, his muscles.
Katya’s mouth is on my breast now—biting, licking—sending sparks through the haze that threaten to undo everything. I cry out as Victor drives into me again and again, as we both teeter on the brink.
Then Tatiana slips behind him, her hands slipping down his spine and then lower with practiced ease, grinning at me. She plays with him like an instrument until he groans, until I feel him start to shudder inside me.
“You like that, don’t you Victor?” Tatiana says. “Something a man like you would have problems asking for, but as a vampire…”
From the way her head dips down behind his ass, I don’t have to guess what she’s doing. But through the fog of it all, I am stuck on the word vampire.
They know he’s a vampire.
What else do they know?
But the thoughts don’t stay around for long. Callahan’s grunt brings my attention back to his face, his beautiful face, strained with pleasure and the effort of fucking me. Because this does take effort, it takes work, the way his muscles ripple, his neck corded with each thrust, the way his veins stick out, their blood singing to me. A thin sheen of sweat builds on his brow, his breath ragged, his eyes glazed as he fucks and fucks and fucks.
“Let go, Lena,” Katya says, no longer at my breast but sucking on my neck. “Stop fighting it. Let go.”
Whether I’m compelled to, or whether I’m truly succumbing to lewd and crude instincts of my primal vampire side, same as everyone else in this house, I let go.
I adjust my hips to let Callahan in deeper. So deep it takes my breath away.
I give in to the pure pleasure of every heightened nerve.
Victor continues to drive into me, his body electric with need until there is nothing but sensation—nothing but this room and this moment and the mad possibility that none of it will ever end.
And I’ll die happy.
Just as we’re about to come together, Katya pulls back. “Wait,” she commands, her voice sharp enough to slice through even this madness. “Not yet.”
Everything stops—suspended between unbearable pleasure and something darker. I feel Callahan tremble above me; feel myself do the same. His breath is a short rasp, barely hanging on.
Then Katya digs a long nail into my neck—a flash of exquisite pain—and blood trickles down hot and wet across my skin.
She leans down and licks it up slowly. “Yes,” she says through a moan, her eyes closed. “Yes. Exactly what I thought.” She pulls back and makes another cut with that sharp nail edge, right above my collarbone, drawing more blood.
“Now,” she says, her voice silky with promise. Her eyes are on Victor’s as she speaks. “Lick it up.”
I see the hunger in his face before I feel it in the way he moves—the way he lowers his mouth to my throat with sudden urgency, tongue flicking out to catch every red drop. The taste makes him wild again; makes me wild too.
His hips start to move against mine and he fucks me harder now, deeper than anything should be possible.
In fact, I feel him grow bigger inside me, expanding against my walls, harking back to the other night when he came through my apartment window.
He’s becoming full vampire.
The blood—my blood—is turning him.
Fear threads through me, but Katya is not done.
She takes her nail and makes more cuts across my body, each one more painful and delicious than the last, ordering Callahan to drink from them before my skin heals.
Victor laps up my blood with frantic fervor—at my neck, my breast, my belly. Each new cut Katya makes sends his mouth to a new place on my body, the sharp thrill of teeth and tongue igniting every nerve ending.