Gently, he pressed her back against the mattress.
Smiling, she arched up to meet his touch as he peeled the straps off her lace nightdress.
His lips traced over her breasts, found her nipples, and she sighed as he circled each one with his tongue.
“I apologize to this perfect nipple,” Oliver murmured, sucking it into his mouth and laving it until she squirmed and sighed, before he moved to the other and gave it exactly the same attention. “And to you also, sweet nipple, equally I apologize.”
Clare moaned, holding his head to her as he continuing the assault on her senses, feathering kisses over her ribs, her soft belly, and amid her giggles and protests, tonguing her belly button. “To this sweet belly button, I humbly apologize,” he murmured. Next, he kissed around her hip bones and over her mound, until he reached the soft dark golden curls.
He spread her thighs wide, and his tongue stroked a path between her legs.
“To the treasure trove of this divine pussy, I apologize.”
Clare lay back with a sigh and gave in to his lapping tongue, as if he was feeding off the sweetest nectar between her thighs, until he had her writhing and begging for release. She growled and pushed her hips up to meet that magic tongue, and when it came, her release tossed her like a small boat in a storm of pleasure.
When she was completely wrung out, he moved up the bed and kissed her lips with the taste of her on his mouth.
“Have I apologized enough for my sins?” he asked softly.
“Yes, yes, enough apologies,” she laughed. “I need you inside me, Oliver. Now!’
He rested above her on lean, strong arms, gazing into her face.
And when they kissed, it was harsh and demanding, tongues dueling for supremacy. Clare’s fingers curled around his cock and guided him to her entrance.
And there they stayed, his cock head at her entrance, as if both of them needed this moment to compose themselves for something that would rock their worlds. Time stood still as their gazes fused, and it felt to Clare in this moment like their souls were merging. And then he thrust. Clare cried out, sensations flooding through her, the filling and stretching, the thrust on her G-spot absolutely everything she had ever dreamed possible.
“This is because you drove me nuts wanting you for months on end,” Oliver ground out as he thrust deeper. “And this,” he maneuvered so the base of his cock massaged her clit perfectly, “is to make up for every opportunity I missed to fuck you these past years. And this…” he rotated his hips and thrust once again, deeper still, “is to ensure you are mine. Forever.”
“You have me, all of me…” she sobbed against his neck, biting him close to his own pulse, feeling the skin of his neck goosebump. “Always.”
With a groan, he too buried his face in her neck. But he did not bite her. There was no sharp graze of a fang.
Clare teetered on the edge of another orgasm, clinging to his shoulders, digging in her nails, panting. He was holding back to let her fall first, she knew. And she also knew with certainty that in the same moment, he would fall too.
Her lips quivered, her eyelids fluttered. “Harder, Oliver, please.” And it seemed that was all the permission he needed, because he pounded into her, possessing her, taking her to heights she had not believed possible. As her orgasm hit, he tensed, and a moment later his seed pulsed into her as he shouted her name, and tumbled.
They had walked to the edge of the cliff. And jumped. Together.
Afterward, she lay nestled against him, stroking the soft dusting of silver hairs on his chest. Marveling at the paleluminosity of his skin, stretched over his sinewy yet strong muscles. He was a work of art, taut as a bowstring, ageless.
A panther of a vampire.
“Did you mean what you said, about forever?” she asked finally in a small voice.
“Did I say that?”
“You know you did. Don’t play that game.” She slapped his pecs playfully.
He chuckled softly. “If you say so, then I did. Fuck it, Clare, of course I want you beside me forever. But as a human, you don’t understand the enormity of that.”
She set her jaw. “Firstly, I am not any old human. I daresay my lifespan as a necromancer is long, hence why my father never tells his age. And I would add, if there is a choice between lying in a cold grave in Tween graveyard, or being by your side for eternity, really, it’s a no-brainer for me.”
He laughed out loud.
“Besides,” she said, “I have a feeling that fate might take that decision out of our hands.”
“In what way?”
