Page 199 of A Bond in Blood

He lifted my hips with his, keeping his hands on my waist.

“I need you,” I whispered. “I needyou.”

“I am at your mercy,” he replied.

His hands gripped me, and he moved as though he were going to flip me onto my stomach, but I grabbed his hands.

“No, not like that. Ulrich, I need you to make love to me.”

He paused.

“Please.”

“You do not know what you’re requesting.”

“I do,” I replied. “Please.”

The darkness was too much for me to see through now that he had layered the entire room with it. Blocking out the windows and every possible crack of light that could slip through.

“Ulrich,” I repeated. “Make love to me.”

He was silent, unmoving. I regretted my words. Wondered if I had been asking for too much too soon. When we had yet to even speak about what he had done. When he hadn’t even tried to explain himself to me.

“Brenna.” His voice was soft, barely audible, as his lips brushed my neck.

I jolted.

“Bren.”

His mouth went lower while his hands pulled up the hem of my gown. He lifted it over my head, undressing me completely.

My body shook from the cold of the room and the sounds of wet fabric hitting the floor raised the hair on my arms.

His hands ran up my legs, rough, large, strong. Gripping my thighs.

“MyEnaid,” he whispered as his mouth claimed me.

I cried, jolting with the heat of his tongue on my clit. Flicking back and forth while his fingers entered me.

It was all insanity.

Gods, I needed more of it.

His mouth moved faster, sucking on me while his fingers moved slowly. In and out. Curling with precision each time he left my warmth.

“Enaid,” he muttered around me, sucking once more.

“Ulrich,” I cried, gripping his hair. Allowing myself to touch him. To actually feel him when he gave me pleasure.

He grunted when I tugged the tie from his hair, releasing the bun he had it wrapped in.

“More of that,” he groaned.

My legs trembled around his head while I kept my fingers in the thick strands. Tugging and pulling. Forcing indecent noises from his lips.

He rose, keeping his fingers inside, pressing his chest against mine.

“The taste of you,” he groaned. “I could live on it for eternity.”

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