Page 13 of Even Vampires Bleed
He slips the hand that was playing with my breast up to my throat, bracketing the underside of my jaw with his thumb on one side and the rest of his fingers on the other side, and forces my head to turn so he can claim my mouth.
The kiss isn’t sweet.
Oh, yes, it’s very slow—as tantalizing as his fingers playing with my clit. It’s playful and makes me burn inside. His tongue slides inside my mouth and comes to stroke mine with languorous moves. He’s licking at my lips and tongue, and I feel it down to my core.
But he doesn’t stop the ministrations of his fingers. No, he steadily brings me back to the brink, and when I think he’s going to slow down again or slip his fingers inside of my pussy to prevent me from coming, his lips leave my mouth and only a breath away from my lips he whispers, “Now you can come,” and I explode against his fingers.
I’m breathless, but Léandre doesn’t let me take a break. He kisses me again. This time he’s demanding. It feels as if he wants to steal the very air I’m breathing, and I love it.
The hand around my throat slips down, fondling my breasts then slowly retreating behind my back, but the other hand is still on my clit, leisurely stroking me in a way that makes me believe he’s not done with me. Far from it.
I can still feel how hard he is against my back, and when my heartbeat finally slows, I finally push my hand between the two of us.
He groans when my hand slips inside his boxer briefs, and his hips move against the palm of my hand. I don’t think he realizes that he’s doing so until I feel his hand tugging at his briefs so he can release himself.
His lips still on mine, he turns me in his arms so I end up on my back and him between my legs, with his boxer briefs mid-thigh.
He replaces the fingers that hadn’t stopped petting me with the tip of his cock and I wouldn’t have thought that possible, but I grow wetter.
There are my shorts between us now, but my nerve endings are so raw that the shorts could be absent, I’m not sure I would feel him less.
His hands move to discard his briefs, and then they’re under my shirt, making it pool around his wrist until my breasts are free.
He stops kissing me for a second—just enough time for him to slip the shirt above my head—and then his lips are back on mine. They don’t stay there though. He peppers kisses along my jaw and my throat until he reaches my breasts and licks each of my nipples as his cock still rubs against my clit.
The tilt of his hips is as slow as the torture he set upon me earlier, but the pressure he applies ismore.
He needs this as much as I do.
“Please tell me you have condoms,” Léandre says as he teases my left nipple. I have no idea how he can talk and still give all his attention to my nipple, but I’m not about to comment on that. It’s a neat trick.
The crown of his cock slips inside of me, still sheathed by my silky shorts.
Wait. What did he ask already?
He seems to realize my mind didn’t compute what he asked because he repeats and this time it’s around my right nipple.
“Condoms?”
“Top shelf of my wardrobe,” I moan as he sucks my nipple between his lips, “behind the sweaters.”
He stops altogether, and I cry from the loss of his mouth and lull in the grinding of his cock against my pussy.
“I don’t want to know why they’re there instead of your nightstand,” he says with a shaking head before he reluctantly stands from the bed and runs to get them.
He brings back the full box.
“Hide that cocky smile. We don’t need the whole box,” I tell him full of sass, “and come back to bed.”
He looks at me from the end of the bed with hunger in his eyes, and I don’t miss the slow perusal of my body, but he’s still not moving.
“What made you think you’re the one in command?” he teases. “I need those shorts to be gone already, and then you’re going to scream my name.”
I wouldn’t usually comply like this in a bedroom. I’m not one to follow orders. At all. But there is something in Léandre’s voice that compels me to do as he says.
His commands in the bedroom are so at odds with the golden vibes he exults outside of it, but it still works, setting my body on fire.
I get rid of my shorts, but Léandre is still looking at me like he could devour me. All I want is to make himactually devour me,but he’s not going to get swayed. I know it from the only few times I tried to be the one demanding things.
