The Force of Wind
Page 56
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“Gio?”
“Yes?” She heard the low growl in his throat as he stalked toward her.
“I need…” She swallowed the burning in her throat.
Giovanni braced himself over her as she backed against the headboard. “Tell me what you need.”
“I need…” She eyed his neck.
“Sì, Tesoro,” he purred, and his tongue stroked the fangs that peeked from her mouth. “Feed from me; I have only one request.” He caught her lower lip between his teeth, biting down as her heart raced.
“What?”
When he whispered, his fangs nicked her ear. “Do not be gentle.”
Beatrice hissed before she reached up, pulled his hair to bare his neck, and struck.
Giovanni roared, pulling her close, and fusing their bodies as she drank. He rolled them over and she lay on top of him, drawing the thick blood from his neck as he writhed beneath her.
He grasped her hips, sheathing himself deep in her body. She pulled away and arched back with a gasp of pleasure. He reared up and Beatrice clutched his arms before leaning down to sink her fangs into him on the other side, piercing the curve where his neck met his shoulder.
“Yes.” He hummed in pleasure before he bared his own fangs and lifted her arm, biting his teeth into the soft flesh above her elbow as she gripped his hair. He felt her shudder for a moment before her mouth returned to the thick muscle at his shoulder. They drank from each other, their blood fueling the heated release they both sought. The room began to fill with steam as her skin touched his, each pushing the other closer to ecstasy.
Beatrice pulled away and searched for his mouth. He met her kiss, both of their lips wet with the other’s blood. Fire and water, they met each other as equals as they reached their release together.
They lay together for what could have been days. Nothing else existed for them. Lost in each other, they drifted, their energy spinning them in a thousand silken threads. He lost count of how many times she drank from him, but his hunger for her bite was never sated. Again and again, he pressed her closer, his amnis seeking hers as his blood traveled through her body.
The room filled with clouds as they moved together, only to gather on Beatrice’s body as she rested, an endless cycle of heat and release coalescing around them. Giovanni drank from her, her energy swirling and pulsing in waves. She fell into daytime rest, but he woke her, a cup of fresh blood near the bed and his mouth traveling over her body. He had no idea how much time had passed.
It didn’t matter, he thought, as they moved together.
They were eternal.
“I feel… drunk.”
Giovanni chuckled as she lay boneless across his chest, her arm draped across his waist in their bed. The steam had finally dissipated in the room. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Beatrice blinked, but didn’t make a characteristic smart remark. He smiled. She did sound drunk.
She asked, “Is it the blood?”
“I have no idea. I’ve never shared blood with anyone before. It’s probably a combination of that and our amnis combining.”
She stretched out next to him, and her energy flowed over his body, touching each corner of his skin like a feather.
“You feel so good,” he breathed out, shivering at her touch. “Is that what my amnis always felt like to you? Soft? Like feathers or silk?”
“Hmm,” she mused. “Kind of, but hot. Your energy is always hot, even when your skin isn’t.”
He frowned. “Not painful?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Just warm. I’ve always loved to feel you. From the beginning, I’ve loved that.”
“I love it, too,” he whispered, brushing the hair from her face, in awe of the startling creature next to him. It was Beatrice, but stronger. Delicate, but not breakable as she had been.
“Beatrice?”
“Hmm?”
“I understand.” She looked up at him, her eyes wide at his quiet declaration.
“You—you do?”
He gave her a small nod. “It still hurts that you chose to go through that without me. And I still think there are reasons you should have waited, but I understand why you did it. And I understand why you wanted to do it here.”
She shook her head. “I never wanted to hurt you, Gio, but you’re so stubborn. And I was so worried—”
“Shhh,” he whispered, leaning over to kiss her. “I know I can be stubborn.” He lifted an eyebrow. “But so can you.”
She smiled. “You’re stuck with me now.”
“And I am eternally grateful,” he whispered.
Her hand began brushing over him again, combining with the current to arouse him. Giovanni had little hair on his body, most of it burning off when the fire took over, but what little there was lifted and followed her fingers, as if pleading for attention.
“I had no idea you liked biting so much,” she murmured as her lips trailed down his chest.
He took a deep breath, releasing it as he enjoyed the feel of her mouth and the scrape of her teeth. “I had no idea I did, either. Maybe I didn’t until it was you doing the biting.”
She gave a throaty laugh and looked up, her fangs gleaming in the candlelight. “I like it.”
“Good,” Giovanni said with a hoarse voice as she bent her head, sinking her fangs into the V of muscle that ran from his waist. He arched his back and gave a low hum of pleasure. “What do I taste like, Beatrice?”
“Yes?” She heard the low growl in his throat as he stalked toward her.
“I need…” She swallowed the burning in her throat.
Giovanni braced himself over her as she backed against the headboard. “Tell me what you need.”
“I need…” She eyed his neck.
“Sì, Tesoro,” he purred, and his tongue stroked the fangs that peeked from her mouth. “Feed from me; I have only one request.” He caught her lower lip between his teeth, biting down as her heart raced.
“What?”
When he whispered, his fangs nicked her ear. “Do not be gentle.”
Beatrice hissed before she reached up, pulled his hair to bare his neck, and struck.
Giovanni roared, pulling her close, and fusing their bodies as she drank. He rolled them over and she lay on top of him, drawing the thick blood from his neck as he writhed beneath her.
He grasped her hips, sheathing himself deep in her body. She pulled away and arched back with a gasp of pleasure. He reared up and Beatrice clutched his arms before leaning down to sink her fangs into him on the other side, piercing the curve where his neck met his shoulder.
“Yes.” He hummed in pleasure before he bared his own fangs and lifted her arm, biting his teeth into the soft flesh above her elbow as she gripped his hair. He felt her shudder for a moment before her mouth returned to the thick muscle at his shoulder. They drank from each other, their blood fueling the heated release they both sought. The room began to fill with steam as her skin touched his, each pushing the other closer to ecstasy.
Beatrice pulled away and searched for his mouth. He met her kiss, both of their lips wet with the other’s blood. Fire and water, they met each other as equals as they reached their release together.
They lay together for what could have been days. Nothing else existed for them. Lost in each other, they drifted, their energy spinning them in a thousand silken threads. He lost count of how many times she drank from him, but his hunger for her bite was never sated. Again and again, he pressed her closer, his amnis seeking hers as his blood traveled through her body.
The room filled with clouds as they moved together, only to gather on Beatrice’s body as she rested, an endless cycle of heat and release coalescing around them. Giovanni drank from her, her energy swirling and pulsing in waves. She fell into daytime rest, but he woke her, a cup of fresh blood near the bed and his mouth traveling over her body. He had no idea how much time had passed.
It didn’t matter, he thought, as they moved together.
They were eternal.
“I feel… drunk.”
Giovanni chuckled as she lay boneless across his chest, her arm draped across his waist in their bed. The steam had finally dissipated in the room. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Beatrice blinked, but didn’t make a characteristic smart remark. He smiled. She did sound drunk.
She asked, “Is it the blood?”
“I have no idea. I’ve never shared blood with anyone before. It’s probably a combination of that and our amnis combining.”
She stretched out next to him, and her energy flowed over his body, touching each corner of his skin like a feather.
“You feel so good,” he breathed out, shivering at her touch. “Is that what my amnis always felt like to you? Soft? Like feathers or silk?”
“Hmm,” she mused. “Kind of, but hot. Your energy is always hot, even when your skin isn’t.”
He frowned. “Not painful?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Just warm. I’ve always loved to feel you. From the beginning, I’ve loved that.”
“I love it, too,” he whispered, brushing the hair from her face, in awe of the startling creature next to him. It was Beatrice, but stronger. Delicate, but not breakable as she had been.
“Beatrice?”
“Hmm?”
“I understand.” She looked up at him, her eyes wide at his quiet declaration.
“You—you do?”
He gave her a small nod. “It still hurts that you chose to go through that without me. And I still think there are reasons you should have waited, but I understand why you did it. And I understand why you wanted to do it here.”
She shook her head. “I never wanted to hurt you, Gio, but you’re so stubborn. And I was so worried—”
“Shhh,” he whispered, leaning over to kiss her. “I know I can be stubborn.” He lifted an eyebrow. “But so can you.”
She smiled. “You’re stuck with me now.”
“And I am eternally grateful,” he whispered.
Her hand began brushing over him again, combining with the current to arouse him. Giovanni had little hair on his body, most of it burning off when the fire took over, but what little there was lifted and followed her fingers, as if pleading for attention.
“I had no idea you liked biting so much,” she murmured as her lips trailed down his chest.
He took a deep breath, releasing it as he enjoyed the feel of her mouth and the scrape of her teeth. “I had no idea I did, either. Maybe I didn’t until it was you doing the biting.”
She gave a throaty laugh and looked up, her fangs gleaming in the candlelight. “I like it.”
“Good,” Giovanni said with a hoarse voice as she bent her head, sinking her fangs into the V of muscle that ran from his waist. He arched his back and gave a low hum of pleasure. “What do I taste like, Beatrice?”
