Page 52 of Saving Her Vampire

I close my eyes as she glides her hands over my chest, opening my shirt. She moves over my shoulders, pushing my shirt down my arms. I’m about to unbutton my cuffs when she beats me to it. She folds my shirt carefully and places it in the laundry. It eases my panic, knowing she knows me so well already, not to throw it to the floor.

She explores my chest, pausing when she feels cuts and scars that never healed. I freeze when she moves behind me. My back is marred by years of lashings, something not even becoming a vampire could heal. Her delicate hands trace the long marks gently. The times we have been together, I’ve been careful to keep them hidden as much as possible.

I’m grateful she doesn’t ask about them. It’s a surreal moment, and I’m suprised I am allowing it. I shudder when I feel her lips feathering kisses on the raised lines. I tense when she reaches a particularly damaged area of skin. I remember the circumstances of why it happened and the curved instrument my father used to cause it. She must have felt my reaction because she left it alone and stood in front of me again.

I lose my breath when she drops to her knees and reaches for my pants. I see her hands shake slightly as she takes them off. She taps my legs one at a time, demanding I lift them. Once I am standing naked, she disposes of my clothes as she did my shirt.

I reach for her, but she sidesteps me. “Get in,” she demands, motioning to the shower.

I do as she asks, uncomfortable but willing to go where she leads. I watch through the glass doors, my eyes devouring her. She removes her clothes, encouraging me to watch. My dead heart beats faster with every article of clothing that falls. She bends to pick everything up, but the last thing I am concerned about is my cleaning habits when she stands naked.

She finally steps in next to me, and before I can get my hands on her, she picks up the soap, lathers her hands, and glides them over my skin. I sigh in pleasure as her loving touch caresses me. She avoids touching my cock, but cleans my chest, legs, and even my feet. I concentrate on her touch and not my throbbing cock directly in front of her face. She turns me so she is at my back. I try not to flinch when she starts rubbing.

She doesn’t spend as much time as she did in my front, and I’m grateful. All of my emotions are bubbling under the surface. The care she shows me makes the walls around my heart crack. She’s crumbling all the ice I surround myself with. I’ve been trying to protect myself for years, and this small human enters my life and shows me a different way to live.

I grab her hand when she touches my hair. She gasps, and I have to unclench my hand.

“I’m sorry, Bash,” she whispers. “I forgot.”

“It was a reflex.” I swallow hard, not sure if I can do it, but I can try. “I won’t stop you this time.” I slowly lower my head so she can reach my hair better. She pauses, hesitant to upset me. “It’s okay, baby.”

I close my eyes when her hands flutter over my hair. She is cautious and doesn’t rush me. I appreciate her concern and patience. At first, images of my father flash through my mind, and I grit my teeth. She disrupts the memories when she wiggles closer and presses her body to mine. They grow fuzzy, and all I can see is her. All I can feel is my naked mate and her gentle fingers combing through my hair. I shiver when the sensations penetrate my mind. She makes me feel so good.

She shampoos my hair, massaging my scalp, making me groan in pleasure. My cock is hard against her stomach. I promised myself I would wait to fuck her until I turned her, afraid I will hurt her or take it further than she’s ready for, but she is testing my control. She’s made me feel so good that I want to return the favor. I need to be inside of her, filling her. The demon inside fights to take over, frustrated with my need to wait.

Her small hand coasts down my stomach and circles my cock. She strokes me slowly, lightly, her soapy hand gliding effortlessly. Her eyes are locked into mine, urging me to let go.

“I need to be inside of you,” I say. “I have to fuck you.”

“Please, Bash,” she says sweetly.

I remove her hand and rinse myself off. I wrap my arm around her waist, picking her up. “Legs around my waist,” I demand. My hand runs from her knee to her thigh, clenching.

I ease her against the shower wall, bending over, and take her mouth with mine. Her legs tighten, bringing me closer. I explore her mouth heatedly, loving the taste of her.

She moans as I draw back. “Bash.”

“I’m going to fuck you raw,” I growl, biting her chin. “I will always be raw inside you. I don’t want anything between us.” I bend and lick her tits. “Are you ready for me?”

“Yes, Sebastian,” she groans.

“Are you wet enough to take me?” I persist.

“Yes, please, fuck me,” she begs.

“Since you ask so sweetly,” I say. I thrust deeply, completely.

We both moan. I stay still for a moment, savoring the feel of her surrounding me. Her wet heat is so fucking hot and tight. I’ve never felt anything like being inside her. I look into her eyes, getting lost in the desire I see there. Her arms circle my shoulders, and one of her hands is threaded through my hair, but all I can feel is her pussy clasping me.

“Bash,” she says, wiggling her hips. Demanding to be fucked.

“You’re pretty pussy; feels so good, baby,” I say softly.

I pull almost all the way out, pause, and thrust. Her back slides against the wall with the force of it. Her mouth opens in a silent pant, her muscles squeeze me tightly, and I grit my teeth at the sensation. I kiss her and move faster, giving her what she wants. What I want.

Her hard nipples rub against my chest, causing her to tighten her arms. “Fuck, Bash,” she whines. She throws her head back, and I put my hand behind her just in time to cushion the blow.

“That’s it, baby,” I encourage. “Does my cock feel good?”

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