Page 84 of Saving Her Vampire

“I’m curious,” she starts. “How good is he at finding the G-spot?”

I laugh and Bash curses. “I’m going to shower. Can I trust you not to eat our guest?”

“Of course, I’m not an animal,” I said snottily.

He grins, shakes his head, and disappears upstairs.

“Tell me the truth,” Penny urges. “Is the sex better as a vampire?”

“You have no idea,” I say. I try to keep my voice lowered, knowing Bash will hear everything I say. I don’t want to inflate his ego.

But damn, he deserves the praise.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Marie

I shut the door after Penny and look to the stairs. Bash is still in his bedroom. He was nice enough to give me some time with Penny. It was easy to be around her after the initial incident. I adjusted to her scent, committing it to memory, knowing she was off-limits. I forgot about her kidnapping. She was around a lot when Harmony met her mates, and then she faded into the background for months. The next time I saw her was a month ago at Ava’s house. I liked her, but our paths hadn’t crossed since. It’s like she withdrew from everyone.

According to Harmony, before she was taken, she was bubbly, outgoing, and constantly optimistic. Harmony has been worried about her. She’s changed but hides it well. I would like to get to know this version of Penny. We have a lot in common, and she could have some good advice.

Now that she is gone, all the distractions come back in full force. When I concentrate on someone or something, I can force everything else away. I think of Bash and do just that.

I test out my speed and picture his room. So fucking cool! I’m staring at the messy bed and getting ideas that I wonder if Bash is up for.

He is standing in front of the bathroom sink, with a towel around his waist, brushing his teeth. I take in the mouth-watering sight. I hunger for him. One hand is fisted on the counter as he leans forward slightly; the other uses the toothbrush. His eyes are the only thing that move as they watch me. I feel them tracking me, like an animal, waiting to pounce.

He loses sight of me when I step close behind him. I slide my hands up his back, glorying in the power before me. I love knowing that he is mine, that I can touch him whenever I want. I place kisses on his spine, occasionally licking and tasting his skin. Once my hands reach his strong shoulders, I retrace my path. I pause when I make it to the towel.

Bash sits down his brush and fists his other hand on the counter, waiting to see what I do. I tease the edge of the towel with one hand and unbutton my shirt with the other. I shrug out of my shirt, always keeping one hand on him.

I follow the towel around his waist, dipping under it when I get to his stomach and pull. It drops to the floor, leaving him gloriously naked. He groans when I step into him, pressing against his back while I caress him. I stroke him slowly, lovingly. He’s so hard and big. My small hand looks even smaller around him.

He drops his head and watches me work him. I rest my head against his side so that I can watch too. My nipples are stiff, cutting into his back, rubbing, arousing. I feel powerful. I have him. I can disarm him like this. No one else has ever seen him like this. Vulnerable. Open. Dependent on my touch.

“Jesus, Marie,” he grunts. His hips move into my hand.

I’m dripping down my thighs, ready for him, but I want this to be about him. He’s very selfless in bed, always ensuring I’m taken care of. I want to take care of him.

I take my hand away, and his head whips to the side to watch me. I glide my hand down my stomach and through the wetness, gathering it in my hand. He sucks in a sharp breath when I press in again and cover him with my come. He drops his head and growls. I squeeze as I pump faster. My thumb rubs his head on the downstroke, causing him to shutter.

His body tenses, his breath comes out in pants, and I know he’s almost there.

He suddenly shoves my hand away and blurs around me, pushing me down. My chest meets the cold tile, and I’m staring into the mirror, his hand forcing my head up, clasping my hair.

“Watch,” he demands.

He kicks my legs apart and stares down at where they meet. He strokes his cock once and then thrusts inside me. I cry out and press my hips back, urging him to move. He doesn’t disappoint. He pushes me into the counter with the force of his hips. The lip of the counter at the right height to hit my clit, adding to the stimulation. His other hand presses onto my back, just above my ass, holding me in place. His face is fiercely concentrated. His eyes move from where we are joined to my face, back and forth, taking in everything I feel.

This is true possession.

I moan when he hits at just the right spot. I squeeze around him when he dips his head and bites my shoulder. He drinks my blood as his cock pounds my pussy. I come harshly, again and again, not knowing when one begins and the other ends. I had never had more than one orgasm at a time, if any at all, when I was with a man. Bash can pull multiple out of me every time.

I reach back with my arm, palming the back of his head, keeping him in place. I love that I am able to nourish his body with my blood. I can feel the transfer into him. I can’t describe the satisfaction adequately.

His hips speed up, almost too fast for me to track, bringing another orgasm to the precipice. He jerks his head back, staring into my eyes through the mirror, my blood dripping.

“Fuck, baby,” he growls. “Yes, come again on my cock.”