The fact that he made no sound as he dragged such desperate sounds from her was even more arousing than if he’d groaned and cursed. As if everything he did, every pinpoint of Oliver Hale’s focus, was on pleasuring her.
She realized he’d backed her up against a large tombstone, and already his hand was moving up her thigh. Shamelessly, Clare braced her feet and opened her legs to allow him access. Spurred on by his exploration, she wiggled her hand down and cupped his erection.
He removed her hand, took it to his lips and kissed it, imprisoning it while his other hand flipped the tiny scrap of material covering her pussy to one side.
Firm fingers found their mark, and she moaned as the back of her head met hard stone and her thighs braced, widening her stance to give him full access.
Those expert fingers smoothed a path along her cleft now, and she could smell the pungent sweetness of her own need. She clawed at his shoulders as his fingers found her clit and stroked it, before sliding through her swollen wet flesh until, as if he knew what she needed more than she did herself, he thrust one digit into her and stroked it against her G-spot.
“Oh gods, yes—yessss,” she whined, jerking like a puppet, grinding against his hand until another finger thrust deep inside her, stretching her wide, stroking her deep. She let out a ragged cry, which he silenced with his mouth.
“There you go, there you go,” he soothed against her lips. “Good girl. Good girl.”
It was dirty and forbidden, and beautiful beyond her wildest dreams.
There could barely have been a minute of his touch on her, but already she was climbing the peak of her orgasm.
“Come for me,” he demanded, his thrusting fingers picking up pace, while his thumb rubbed her clit to the same rhythm.
“Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods…” she heard herself chant as she chased release, teetered, then fell, the breath stolen from her lungs by the intensity of her orgasm.
He held her, slowing his touch, until her shuddering and her whimpering and her gasping breaths calmed.
Finally, he removed his fingers, licked each one, then growled, “By all the gods, I could fuck you right here in among the dead.”
She almost came again at his words. But somehow, she managed to stand and tug down her dress, her voice quivering as she said, “I have a bed across the street.” Groping for his hand, she led him out of the graveyard and across the silent street.
Outside the shabby door to her apartment, he swung her round. “Are you sure, Clare? Because once we walk inside that door, Iwillcross a line.”
She couldn’t help a little smile at that. “Haven’t we crossed it already, sir?”
“Ah, sweet, naïve human,” he sighed. “You have experienced nothing yet. Will it be yay or nay?”
“I am walking through that door and taking you with me,” she said with a bravado she wouldn’t have thought herself capable of a mere ten minutes ago.
Because out there in the darkness, she had given herself to him. Allowed him to possess her.
And yet… truthfully, had he not possessed her since the moment she first set eyes on him?
She held Oliver’s gaze steadily as she backed inside, splaying her fingers between his as she took him with her.
Beneath his beard, a muscle ticked. His eyes gleamed deep burgundy, then he slammed the door with his foot and pounced on her.
CHAPTER 6
He barely took heed of her apartment, had no idea how they got up to the stairs to her bedroom, but as he tipped Clare onto the bed, Oliver’s mind was in turmoil.
Before he brought her to that swift raging orgasm back there against a tombstone, he’d grazed her neck with his fang, and now that ruby drop of blood was taunting him. Making him want to plunder her until she was drained.
He was so close to spiraling back to the dark hole that had taken him a hundred years to climb out of.
But this… this beautiful human. Hehad feelings for her.
Of course his fucked-up brain didn’t know what those feelings were. Obsession, certainly. Not love. But not simple lust, either. He knew lust—the insatiable desire for blood and sex.
But this, with Clare, was different, Complex. Perplexing. It scared him, and he was not easily scared.
But one thing he did know. He must not subject her to his trauma and dark moods, to an accidental turning, the horror of being imprisoned with him in eternity.
