Annie Nicholas - Prima

Setting his hands on her hips, he lifted her to sit on the cool surface.

“What are you doing?”

“You should ask what I don’t have planned.” He knelt and put her legs over his shoulders, letting her feet dangle against his back. Gentle as butterfly wings, he kissed her inner thighs, tracing a line toward her pussy.

A deep ache grew in her lower abdomen. She gripped the dresser and spread her legs wider. She should have pushed him away. Instead she surrendered.

He ran the sharp edge of his fangs over the delicate tissue.

She drew a sharp intake of breath at the sting.

Daedalus slid his finger inside her pussy while his gaze traveled to meet hers. “You’re wet.” A smug grin spread across his face.

“Fucker.” She snarled the insult.

“Oh, I plan to be exactly that.” His smile grew wider. “You forget who I am.”

“I don’t think I ever truly knew who you are.”

He pumped his finger inside of her using a hard, fast stroke. “That’s not true and you know it.”

She groaned and arched into the motion.

The soft touch of his tongue contrasted the steady pounding. He circled her bud, slowly torturing her.

Curling her toes against his back, she lifted her hips, giving him better access.

A low chuckle vibrated her oversensitive clit. He ran his tongue over it before sucking it into his mouth.

She cried out at the sudden sensation of jagged pleasure and cracked her head against the mirror when she flung it back. The pain didn’t register. She wanted this so badly. Yes, Daedalus had made love to her the other night, but she desired something more. She craved sweat and grunts, to dig her nails into his hard muscles, for him to lose control and take from her what he wanted.

With a possessive growl, he latched on to her clitoris, sending wave upon wave of ecstasy through that nerve bundle.

“Daedalus.” His name fell from her lips involuntarily as the climax crashed over her.

The sound of his name from Sugar was the sweetest song to Daedalus's ears. She might hate him, but he’d win her back. Her body remembered his. This was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

His hard cock throbbed against the confines of his jeans. It wanted release from the rough material and to find soothing relief inside her wet pussy. He trembled. She’d be so tight.

Rising to his feet, he guided her limp legs around his waist.

She leaned against the mirror, a thin sheen of sweat covering her skin. With her fist, she knocked the metal plate on his chest. “Still afraid I’ll stake you?”

He unclipped his armor, desperate for her touch. His safety be damned. It clattered at his feet, followed by his shirt.

Sugar bit her bottom lip as her hungry stare traveled over his chest. A hum of satisfaction purred in her throat.

Unbelievably, his cock grew harder, aching for liberation. He ran his hands over her torso until he cupped her glorious tits. Kneading them, he enjoyed the heavy softness in his palms.

He bent and kissed the closest one while grinding against her.

"Stop.”

“No.” He pinched her nipples until she moaned, arching into his touch.

With a smooth motion, she twisted and elbowed him in the chin. “I’m still angry.”

He licked the trickle of blood on his lip. “I’d be disappointed if you weren’t.” As soon as the words left him, he realized he spoke the truth. He wanted her fury. For her to be filled with passion and full of life.

After unzipping his jeans, he pulled out his cock. “Show me how angry.” He gripped her hips and thrust inside her. The secret muscles of her pussy squeezed tight, and his knees almost buckled at the onslaught of his passion.

Her fists beat on his chest, yet her ankles dragged him closer. “I hate you.”

He shoved deeper and moaned. “I know.”

She grasped his shoulders and climbed into his arms, sliding down him even further until she rested against the root of his shaft.

“Oh, baby.” He pressed her against the wall and hammered into her, unable to control his zeal anymore. His jeans fell to his ankles, and he kicked them off, never breaking his desperate rhythm.

She dug her nails into his back and clung, her breathing hard and hot by his ear.

After so many months of celibacy, how could he be expected to resist her? When he’d walked in and found her naked, he could have cried his praise to whatever god had granted him his most coveted wish.

A sting in his neck caught his breath. His balls clenched at the pull of her mouth on his skin.

“Oh fuck yes,” he cried out as she bit deeper with her delicate little fangs.

He thrust in and in and in, losing control.

It didn’t seem like it would ever end. His vision blurred, and he had to brace his legs against the wall as he pounded harder. All he could articulate were animalistic grunts as her climax clutched her muscles like a vise around his shaft.

He arched his body against hers, spilling his seed into her hot pussy, unable to utter a sound since the pleasure stole all his words.

She melted into his arms, resting her head on his shoulder.

He hugged her tight and slid to the floor, landing on his knees. His heart soared at what they'd just shared. Sugar might be filled with anger, but not hate. He knew her too well. She'd never have let him touch her if that were true. “I’ll make this up to you somehow.”

“This was a good start.” She crawled out of his arms, breaking their contact. “But I don’t see how we can ever rebuild what we had.”

He didn’t either, but there had to be a way. Right?

“I’m taking a shower.” She clung to the dresser to catch her balance. Male satisfaction warmed his chest as she wobbled in the direction of the bathroom, until his gaze rested on the full goblet he’d brought for her. Her weakness was from lack of blood, not incredible sex, dumbass.

“Wait.” He offered her her first meal of human blood. It came from his storage that he'd brought with him from Chicago. The flavor wasn’t the same as fresh, but she wouldn’t know the difference yet. “I didn’t think you’d want to shop for donors tonight.”

She faced him. Her stare focused on the cup, and she licked her lips. “I—I don’t want to drink it.”

He frowned. “You know better. What happens if a vampire gets too hungry?” They’d been together long enough for her to know about everything vampire. She’d been his main source of nutrition for years and understood the cardinal rules of feeding.

Turning her shoulder, she blocked the view of the cup.

“You have the biggest stubborn streak I’ve ever encountered, but refusing to drink is dangerous. When the hunger hits, and it will, what will happen? I have no humans in the mansion for you to use. Will you feed from a neighbor? Accidently kill someone’s wife or child?” It was a rough speech, but an important one. The first rule a vampire learned was how to control the bloodlust.

With a good teacher, a fledgling vampire never had to take a life. He hoped to be such a mentor for her.

She glanced back at him and her meal.

Before she could deny him, he slid the cup under her nose, knowing instinct would grip her.

Clasping it, she took a tentative sip and closed her eyes. Her hands shook, and she almost spilled it as she tilted the cup higher, taking large gulps.

He steadied her hold. “Easy. It’s all for you. There’s more if you need it.”

She tipped the goblet up until it emptied of the last drops then handed the vessel to him and clutched her stomach.

“You might get cramps for a few weeks until your system adjusts. Taking small doses will help keep it manageable.” He reached for her, but she retreated from his touch and wouldn’t look at him.