Thea Harrison: Serpent's Kiss

He held her with a hand at the back of her head and pushed her mouth harder against him, impaling himself on her fangs while he hauled her onto his lap. She went willingly, spreading her legs to sit astride him. He positioned his erection at her slick opening and pulled her down. Then he was filling her aching emptiness with the hard warmth of his cock as his hot blood filled her mouth. He clenched her to him and rocked in her as she drew on him and took in his nourishment.

She grew drunk again with pleasure. She was always so surprised at how generous it was, that pleasure. He filled her to the brim with laughter and constancy, and such a rare bountiful passion, her soul unfurled and flourished.

She realized he was whispering in her ear. “I will always come for you, always hold on to you. I swear it.”

The mouthful of blood she had taken was more than enough. The vitality of it already sang in her veins. She pulled out her fangs and whispered back, “I will never let go of you, never fail you. I will hold steady, no matter what.”

He began to shudder with his own climax, and he gave himself over completely to his mate again.

She held on to him tightly, with all of her heart. She had made a promise to do so.

Early the next evening, Rufio and Rasputin arrived. “Let’s try to get through this without anybody growling, okay?” Carling murmured to Rune as they watched the rental car pull into the driveway.

“Don’t look at me. I’ll be purring the whole time,” said Rune. He blinked at her with his best innocent look.

She tried to scowl at him. She didn’t have it in her. They had spent the afternoon dozing. She had drifted in and out of dreams with her head resting on his shoulder. It could not have been more precious or perfect.

Rune opened the front door as Rufio climbed out of the car, followed by the little brown and sable dog on a leash. Rasputin caught sight of Carling as she stood in the shadow of the doorway. He barked, high pitched with excitement, and strained at the leash until Rufio laughed and let him go.

The dog hurtled up the path with a manic grin. He danced and twirled and jumped, and when Carling bent to pick him up, he leaped into her arms and tried frantically to lick her face. Rune greeted Rufio, asked him how their flight had been, and showed him to his room so he could settle in.

When Rune returned, he found Carling and Rasputin in the kitchen. Rasputin was exploring the corners of the kitchen floor, his plumed tail wagging. Carling had pulled out a package of raw chicken breast tenders, muttering to herself as she sprayed some pam in a skillet. She glanced at Rune. “I’m going to cook Rasputin some chicken for supper. Would you like for me to cook some for you as well?”

Rune pinched the bridge of his nose. He said, “Ah, I have to come clean about something.”

“What’s that?” Carling asked. She turned on a burner, squinted at the flames, and adjusted the temperature down.

“I don’t want to hurt your feelings,” said Rune. “To me, you are perfection personified in so many ways. But darling, you are a terrible cook.”

Carling narrowed her eyes on him. He gave her an apologetic shrug and a smile. He watched her gaze fall and her expression change. She covered her mouth with one hand.

He looked down too. The dog had come over to him and lifted its leg. A tiny stream of urine sprinkled Rune’s shoe.

Rune angled out his jaw. Both he and Carling squatted down to regard the Pomeranian thoughtfully. Rasputin sat and scratched energetically behind one ear.

“What do you suppose he’s feeling right now?” Rune asked.

“I don’t have any idea,” said Carling. Her face creased with laughter, her long almond-shaped eyes dancing. She looked completely alive, completely happy. “But from now on, you’re taking him out.”