Page 23 of Wanted 3

I smiled and burrowed deeper against the solid wall of muscle at my back. Who needed summers when I could live in the warmth of Vlad’s love for an eternity? What more could I ask for in life?

His lips returned, making their way up my neck. I held still under the gentle assault, reveling in what it felt like to be loved, completely, as I was.

“Good evening,” Vlad whispered, nuzzling the soft flesh under my ear.

I lifted my lashes to see him staring down at me with that sexy grin creasing his cheek. “Same to you,” I said.

There was too much cloth between us. Me, in my t-shirt. Him, in sweatpants. I wanted the primal closeness of flesh on flesh. Still, I smiled and shifted lazily on my back.

“Kiss me,” I demanded, but his lips covered mine before I’d even finished uttering the last word.

For a time, we simply enjoyed the dancing of our tongues, but then, our hands began to roam. He kneaded my breasts, pinching my nipples beneath my t-shirt as I slipped my hand beneath the waistband of his pants.

He was hard, ready. And I was impatient.

I bit his neck.

He threw his head back and gasped.

I smiled, pleased with his reaction.

“On your back,” I demanded, placing my palms on his chest and shoving him back.

He complied with a smile crooking his lips. God, I loved his mouth. It looked carved as if from stone.

As I lifted my leg over his lean hips, he grabbed my waist and pulled me toward his mouth.

“God,” I gasped, as his tongue caressed me. I grabbed the headboard; grateful I’d gone to bed the night before sans panties. What a way to start the day—err, evening.

He gripped my ass tighter, pulling me closer as his tongue worked magic, radiating pleasure to the end of my every nerve.

“Don’t stop,” I groaned, feeling my orgasm building.

He didn’t. And when he grazed the softness of my inner flesh with his fangs, I climaxed. I held onto the headboard, a gasping, writhing tangle of sensations, him licking me all the while.

When I finally held still, he pulled me down across his chest and sat up, the movement sending me sprawling backwards onto the bed.

“With the appetizer finished, is it not now time for the main course?” he murmured, lifting a brow over lust-hazed eyes.

“Absolutely.” I couldn’t agree more. I rose to my knees and ran my hand over his arousal, smiling in anticipation.

He closed his eyes, his lips parting in pleasure as I teased him, sliding my hands over his every inch. I studied his face, reveling in having him under my control, hanging on my every move. This was Count Dracula. My lover. The love of my life.

I wanted nothing between us, no barriers of any kind, mental or physical. So, I pulled off his sweatpants and then, my t-shirt as well, and slowly lowered myself onto him.

God, I belonged with him. I’d never felt so complete. As we began to move, I ran my hands over his chest, outlining the bands of muscle, tracing the lines of his veins running across his flesh.

My eyes caught on his veins. God, I needed to taste him again. My fangs descended as I dropped myself over his hard body and sank my teeth into his neck.

He tasted finer than any wine I’d ever had, satisfying my cravings like nothing else could. A drug I could live on for life. I drove my fangs deeper, feeding and drawing his blood as he inhaled and thrust into me harder, faster, again and again.

Then, with a growl, he flipped me onto my back and drove himself into me with such force that I wrapped my legs around him, digging my nails into his back to hold on. And when his fangs pierced my flesh, I never felt more alive.

He roared as he finished, the sound tipping me into my own waves of pleasure.

Finally, when the last traces of our love faded away, he propped himself on an elbow, and reached over me to pluck a red rose from the vase on the bedside table.

Gently, he trailed the soft velvet petals over my lips, my throat, my breasts. Teasing my nipples into hardened peaks.