Page 21 of Soul of A Vampire

Iknow exactly what I’m doing. “Do you think I’m a tramp?”

“No.” He nibbles my earlobe.

Desire pools between my legs again even though a moment ago I would have sworn I was more satisfied than I have ever been in my life. “I’m not like this.”

He scratches my neck with his fangs and it’s like the best drug. “Like what?”

“I don’t have sex with men I just met and I never have multiple orgasms.” Until today. “What have you done to me?”

“It’s not me, baby. I think it’s us.” He grinds his thick cock against my bottom.

“You bit me.” I can’t wrap my head around that, or how good it felt.

“I couldn’t help myself. You needed my bite, and I had to give you what you needed.” His voice is strained and breathy.

While I want to know what that means, I need him inside me more. I lift my leg and put my foot behind his legs to open for him.

“Are you sure?”

I love that he’s worried about me despite his obvious need. “Please.”

His growl goes directly to my clit and as if he knows, he presses two fingers there as he eases that beautiful cock inside me with one steady, slow thrust. “Birgitta.” He shifts to move in and out, slowly and steadily.

Another orgasm builds inside me. “So good. Oh god.”

Gripping me around my middle, he lifts me to my hands and knees and thrusts deep from behind.

Lowering my face to the mattress, I lift my ass high. “Yes, Oliver. Oh, god, yes.”

He pounds harder and faster and every time he fills me, and my pleasure heightens. Wrapping his arm around me, he finds my clit and rubs small circles that push me over the edge.

I scream into the mattress.

He thrusts and spills his seed inside me.

Another wave of pleasure flushes through me and I collapse. “What is happening here?”

Pulling me to my side, he wraps himself around me. Pushing a damp strand of my hair behind my ear, he whispers, “Wentworth once told me that monsters such as me and my brothers rarely find their true mates, but when they do, the pull is irresistible.”

“Is that what this is? Some kind of magic?” I hate the notion that I’ve lost my free will.

“I don’t know.” He kisses the shell of my ear.

A yawn delays the string of questions piling up inside me. “I’m tired.”

“Sleep.” Another kiss, and he holds me close.

* * *

The sun shines through my west-facing window when I wake up alone in my hotel room. I’m deliciously sore in all the best places. It’s not the first time I’ve given myself to a man, then he left while I slept, but it’s the first time I wanted to cry about it.

I sit up and the movement dislodges a piece of paper from the pillow where Oliver’s head had lain.

Picking it up, I admire his masculine but elegant handwriting on the hotel’s stationery.

Birgitta,

I hope you won’t be angry that I’ve gone back to Scrim Hall. I further hope you will join me for dinner there at seven. If you’d like to stay the night, I would be thrilled to have you in my home and bed for as long as you want.

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