Page 29 of Kept 4
Every part of me wants to fall into his arms. Every. Single. Part.
“Nicholas,” I whisper, but anything else I might have said is cut short as he reaches out and pulls me into his arms, covering my lips with his own.
I don’t resist. Call me weak, call me cowardly, call me fucking stupid; my rational self calls me all these things, but still, my mind, for once, is subdued to my heart, and I kiss him back with everything I am worth.
Feeling what I am feeling, he holds nothing back, his kiss deepening from desperate to heated, our tongues entwining. One of his hands grips my hair, holding my face in place, the other presses into the small of my back, bending me to him, pulling me against his long, lean body.
The kiss goes on, and my body is screaming for release, thrumming with desire.
Without a word, he pulls his lips from mine and, never taking his eyes from my own, pushes me down to the carpet, his body covering mine, as he resumes kissing me; my lips, my neck, back to my lips.
“Nicholas,” I moan, during a brief moment when my lips are free, every inch of me tingling, my nipples almost dancing for joy when he tears my shirt open and places his mouth upon one, and then the other, sucking, biting until they are two small minions standing to attention. I squirm with lust beneath his weight as I feel his rock, hard response to my arousal, and I know, at this moment, that I want now, right now, what he is offering, everything, every bit of him.
‘Screw the weapon,’my overwhelmed brain agrees,‘and Elsbeth. Screw the Hunters and Gerald and being a Kept, screw everything – and oh, God, screw me, now!’
At my silent urging, he pauses his adoration of my breasts to take his own shirt off, and I squeeze my hands between us, urging him to keep going, take off his pants, let me feel his skin upon my own. He grunts with urgency, kissing me, nudging my ear and my hair with his lips, as he kicks off his boots and shucks off his jodhpurs. And I take the opportunity to divest myself of my clothes too, until finally, fumbling over, we lay completely naked together, for the first time.
The novelty of the situation, the precarious nature of our relationship, obviously sinks through his overriding desire too, as I spread my legs and wrap them around his hips, burying my face in his neck.
“Nicholas, yes,” I moan, kissing him, nipping his shoulder, urging him to take me.
Groaning, he begins to pull away, and I look up quickly and see his fangs, extended now in his excitement, and beyond them, his pained eyes.
“No, don’t stop,” I whisper.
“I have to,” he shudders, burying his face in my hair, “I will bite, Josephine. You don’t want that. I don’t want that.”
“I want you,” I say firmly, running my hand down the length of his lean torso, across his muscled backside, flexing my nails, digging into his skin, pulling him closer, “I want you now, Nicholas.”
He raises his head, kisses me gently on the lips.
“Are you sure?” he asks, looking deep into my eyes.
I’m overwhelmed by his beauty, his scent, the feel of his gorgeous body on mine. I’ve wanted him for so long; it seems like everything has been building to this moment, try as we might to avoid it.
I nod, bringing one hand up to the back of his head and forcing his lips down to mine, kissing him deeply. He responds, his self-control obviously as overpowered as my own. Our bodies reignite, and before I can change my mind, he pushes forward, sliding inside me and we groan simultaneously in sheer pleasure at the sensation of our bodies finally joined as one.
It is like we were made for each other, we fit perfectly, beautifully, and I can’t get enough of him as I writhe beneath him, forcing him to move faster, thrust harder. And just as I am about to reach my peak, and I know he cannot be far behind, he leans down and shouts “come,” and bites.
I open my eyes wide at the initial pain as his teeth sink into my skin, and then close them and scream, as I orgasm harder than I have ever in my life, the pleasure coming in waves as he sucks, each draw on my neck reaching the very core of my being and intensifying my pleasure beyond endurance.
“Nicholas,” I scream, arching, bucking, writhing as finally, finally, he pulls his mouth away from me, his lips glistening, his full weight upon me, his breathing heavy.
We lay, panting, for some moments, little aftershocks still rippling through our bodies, before he raises his beautiful face and kisses my closed eyelids, my cheeks, my forehead.
“Are you alright? Are you hurt?” he whispers, as I lay silently, submitting to his affection.
I smile. How can I tell him that I was still feeling tingles throughout my body; that I had just experienced the best sex of my life? That feeding him, nourishing him while pleasuring him at the same time was the most wonderful feeling I could have imagined? That I truly do feel like a magician now. I can’t encapsulate all these feelings into mere words.
“Can’t you tell how I feel?” I whisper, opening my eyes and staring into his brilliant blue orbs.
“I’m not sure,” he murmurs, running his nose up and down the side of my neck, from my collarbone to my ear, before looking at me once more, a faint smirk on his lips, “I might need to get closer, to really be certain.”
“Closer?” I smile, squeezing my muscles tight and eliciting a gasp from him, “is that possible?”
“No harm in trying,” he grins, leaning down to capture my lips, and take my breath away once more.
“You must have misunderstood.”
