Zane's Redemption
Page 38
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Zane kissed her as if he wanted to punish her, his tongue the whip that lashed her until she was raw, his lips the ties that bound her to him as his hands traveled over her torso in a frantic race to touch every inch before either of them had a change of mind.
Tasting the raw hunger in his kiss, the obvious desperation to possess and devour, Portia’s heart recognized her own need: to give herself to this man, this vampire, and to surrender to her desires, desires she’d never felt before. Everything was new and unknown. How had she lived until now without knowing what a touch and a kiss could do, how it could consume a person like a wildfire consumed a forest, leaving nothing behind but a charred surface?
That’s how she felt, her skin seared as if hot lava touched her instead of the sensual long fingers of the most enticing man—human or vampire—she’d ever met. And those fingers did things to her, incredible things, exciting things: their touch was poison and soothing medicine all at once, first stirring up her insides, then calming them.
Their rhythm matched her breath, the tremors inside her reaching earthquake levels. Wherever Zane’s body connected with hers, she burned—and burned for more. Like an addict, she pulled him closer, moaning her approval and her surrender in one breath. Yet he didn’t seem to understand, continuing to unleash his devastating sexual prowess onto her when he could have stripped her of her clothes already and be driving into her without preamble.
Portia ripped her lips from his. “Take me now.”
Zane didn’t listen. His response was a growl, a sound only an animal could make. His eyes were glowing a deep orange, and his breath rushed from his lungs. Without a response, he took her mouth again, continuing where he’d left off as is she’d never interrupted.
Trying to ease the ache between her thighs, Portia drew up one leg and wrapped it around his thigh, making him press closer. She felt the hard outline of his erection against her soft core and rubbed herself against him, trying to find relief.
A groan rumbled from his chest and reverberated against her ribcage. One of his hands went to her backside, hauling her fully against him, increasing the friction between their bodies.
She went on tip toes to feel his erection pressing lower where her clit throbbed in concert with her heartbeat. Her hands went to his ass, her nails digging into the jeans she wished he wasn’t wearing.
All of a sudden, Zane lifted her, forcing her legs farther apart, compelling her to wrap them around his hips as he thrust against her.
The fridge behind her rattled, containers inside tumbling from the shelves. She didn’t care. Every time he thrust, his cock hit that little bundle of nerves that was swollen and aching for release. All she could think of was for him not to stop, for this never to end.
“I need …” she whimpered against his lips, unable to control her body’s reactions any longer.
A moment later, she felt his fangs grazing her lip, nipping slightly. Her nose detected blood, but her tongue would never taste it, because Zane licked her blood off her lips and swallowed it.
“Fuck!” he cursed and closed his eyes.
She didn’t know what he meant, nor did she care. “More!” As her hips ground against him, his cock dragging over her clit with every movement, she pulled his head back to her.
Ding Dong! Ding Dong!
No, not now! She would ignore it. Portia pressed her lips onto Zane’s, hoping he hadn’t heard the sound in his lust-drugged state, but he pulled back. In the next instant, she stood on her own two feet again, feet that were shaking uncontrollably, her entire body trembling with need.
“No!” she protested. She reached for him, but he turned his back to her.
“Fuck!” she heard him curse under his breath as he stalked out of the kitchen without another word or a look.
***
He’d lost it.
Portia had called him a liar, and she’d been right. But he hadn’t wanted to see the truth. So he’d punished her for finding him out, and punished himself even more. Because knowing what it would be like with her, yet having to make sure it never happened was going to kill him. It was as certain as a stake through his heart.
A second longer of feeling her legs around him, of smelling her arousal and tasting her hot lips, and he would have torn her clothes to shreds with his claws and fucked her against the cold steel of the refrigerator, not caring that she was a virgin who needed gentle, not rough.
Using his shirt sleeve, Zane wiped the sweat off his forehead. Shit! What the fuck was he going to do now? He couldn’t continue this assignment. Every second in Portia’s company would be torture. And what if she provoked him again? Would he simply take what he craved? And once she realized how savage he was, would she change her mind? By then, it would be too late. He’d take it anyway—take what he considered his.
Tasting the raw hunger in his kiss, the obvious desperation to possess and devour, Portia’s heart recognized her own need: to give herself to this man, this vampire, and to surrender to her desires, desires she’d never felt before. Everything was new and unknown. How had she lived until now without knowing what a touch and a kiss could do, how it could consume a person like a wildfire consumed a forest, leaving nothing behind but a charred surface?
That’s how she felt, her skin seared as if hot lava touched her instead of the sensual long fingers of the most enticing man—human or vampire—she’d ever met. And those fingers did things to her, incredible things, exciting things: their touch was poison and soothing medicine all at once, first stirring up her insides, then calming them.
Their rhythm matched her breath, the tremors inside her reaching earthquake levels. Wherever Zane’s body connected with hers, she burned—and burned for more. Like an addict, she pulled him closer, moaning her approval and her surrender in one breath. Yet he didn’t seem to understand, continuing to unleash his devastating sexual prowess onto her when he could have stripped her of her clothes already and be driving into her without preamble.
Portia ripped her lips from his. “Take me now.”
Zane didn’t listen. His response was a growl, a sound only an animal could make. His eyes were glowing a deep orange, and his breath rushed from his lungs. Without a response, he took her mouth again, continuing where he’d left off as is she’d never interrupted.
Trying to ease the ache between her thighs, Portia drew up one leg and wrapped it around his thigh, making him press closer. She felt the hard outline of his erection against her soft core and rubbed herself against him, trying to find relief.
A groan rumbled from his chest and reverberated against her ribcage. One of his hands went to her backside, hauling her fully against him, increasing the friction between their bodies.
She went on tip toes to feel his erection pressing lower where her clit throbbed in concert with her heartbeat. Her hands went to his ass, her nails digging into the jeans she wished he wasn’t wearing.
All of a sudden, Zane lifted her, forcing her legs farther apart, compelling her to wrap them around his hips as he thrust against her.
The fridge behind her rattled, containers inside tumbling from the shelves. She didn’t care. Every time he thrust, his cock hit that little bundle of nerves that was swollen and aching for release. All she could think of was for him not to stop, for this never to end.
“I need …” she whimpered against his lips, unable to control her body’s reactions any longer.
A moment later, she felt his fangs grazing her lip, nipping slightly. Her nose detected blood, but her tongue would never taste it, because Zane licked her blood off her lips and swallowed it.
“Fuck!” he cursed and closed his eyes.
She didn’t know what he meant, nor did she care. “More!” As her hips ground against him, his cock dragging over her clit with every movement, she pulled his head back to her.
Ding Dong! Ding Dong!
No, not now! She would ignore it. Portia pressed her lips onto Zane’s, hoping he hadn’t heard the sound in his lust-drugged state, but he pulled back. In the next instant, she stood on her own two feet again, feet that were shaking uncontrollably, her entire body trembling with need.
“No!” she protested. She reached for him, but he turned his back to her.
“Fuck!” she heard him curse under his breath as he stalked out of the kitchen without another word or a look.
***
He’d lost it.
Portia had called him a liar, and she’d been right. But he hadn’t wanted to see the truth. So he’d punished her for finding him out, and punished himself even more. Because knowing what it would be like with her, yet having to make sure it never happened was going to kill him. It was as certain as a stake through his heart.
A second longer of feeling her legs around him, of smelling her arousal and tasting her hot lips, and he would have torn her clothes to shreds with his claws and fucked her against the cold steel of the refrigerator, not caring that she was a virgin who needed gentle, not rough.
Using his shirt sleeve, Zane wiped the sweat off his forehead. Shit! What the fuck was he going to do now? He couldn’t continue this assignment. Every second in Portia’s company would be torture. And what if she provoked him again? Would he simply take what he craved? And once she realized how savage he was, would she change her mind? By then, it would be too late. He’d take it anyway—take what he considered his.
