Kresley Cole - Shadow's Claim

Must make it pleasurable.

Though he quaked with eagerness, he painstakingly fed his length inside her tight sex—with a slow, hot, wet glide to the hilt. He yelled out from the shock of pleasure, savoring her throaty moan.

Seated so deep inside her, he lowered his head, bringing his mouth to the tender skin where her neck and shoulder met. He licked her there, preparing her.

To take her blood while claiming her body. After centuries of waiting, fantasy would be made flesh. “Bett?” he rasped against her, still disbelieving.

“Now, Trehan. Now!”

As he opened his jaw wider, his fangs lengthened even more. He pressed the tips against her pulse. . . .

His bite breached the surface of her skin—again, with a slow, hot, wet glide. Her sweet flesh enveloped his aching fangs—a tight seal that made him shudder above her. So tight that no blood welled.

He had to suck her, and the feel of it was . . .

So fucking perfect.

He gave a wretched groan as her blood touched his tongue. With that first contact, Trehan lost his mind.

Or found it.

Under his fangs, she writhed, her pale throat working as she screamed, “Trehan! Ah, gods, yes!”

His hips began to rock between her thighs as he drew her essence into him—a swift, scorching infusion that coursed through his every vein.

With each drop, his weeks-long grief ebbed, his ages of loneliness faded.

His female tasted of magic and heat and mystery. Sorcery steeped her blood, now dancing in his, enlivening him body and mind. Bettina este viaţă.

His lids slid shut with bliss as he thrust wildly, drank deeply. Better than fantasy!

But his eyes flashed open as he felt her body readying to come, those beginning tremors like strokes around his shaft. . . .

When the vampire had eased his fangs into her flesh, Bettina had trembled with shock.

Like brands, they’d scalded her with white-hot pleasure. Like brands, they’d changed her irrevocably.

His bite was ruinous, pleasuring her so thoroughly she knew she would crave it forever.

As he sucked her blood with rumbling growls, ecstasy welled up inside her. Each of his draws magnified it. A cry escaped her lips, making him snarl into his bite.

Her body tightened beneath his—twisting, rocking, spiraling—rapture about to overtake her. “Vampire! More! ”

Though his mouth and bite were gentle, his hips began to surge between her legs, pounding his thick shaft inside her, just as she needed him to.

His hands covered her breasts, kneading possessively, sending her closer to the edge. She arched into his palms, rubbing her achy nipples against his callused skin.

Friction. Pressure. His fangs —

“Trehan, I’m coming!” Her climax engulfed her. In turn, he drew harder from her, intensifying the spasms until they ripped through her like an electric current.

He kept thrusting, plunging into the wetness of her orgasm as it continued on and on.

She was still coming when he drove his erection as deep as it’d go. Fangs and shaft buried inside her body, he joined her release, beginning to pump his semen into her womb.

She gloried in that first searing jet of seed. But then he had to relinquish her neck, his back bowing from the intensity of his spend.

He bared his fangs as he roared to the ceiling, “Bettina!” Muscles wracked, he thrashed atop her . . . again and again, filling her with copious heat. “You were made . . . for me alone. A mea, eternitate! ”

Another frenzied thrust . . . and another . . .

With a final dazed groan, he collapsed over her, mouth back at her neck to kiss the bite, as if in thanks. When his hoarse exhalations fanned over his mark, she shivered anew, her lips curling. “Could you feel me, Trehan?”

“Ah, love, I could feel you very well,” he said, easing to his back, with her enfolded in his arms. “And you liked my bite.” Could he possibly sound any prouder?

“You know I did. So, is bite play something we can do daily? Or more like, hourly?”

“I love your questions, Bett.”

She raised her head, laying her elbows across his still heaving chest and surveyed her vampire. The change in him was immediate—and profound.

She noted the color tingeing his high cheekbones, the swelling of his muscles as her lifeblood became his, the clearness of his eyes.

Green like Abaddon’s forest.

And when he smiled at her, with his black hair tousled over his forehead and his eyes dancing, he took her breath. That grinding tension . . . had disappeared .

He brushed a braid from her cheek. Sounding very much like a well-pleasured male, he rasped, “I love you, dragă mea .”

“I love you too.” She sighed like a sap, knowing she was gazing at him with a dreamy expression. “Bad.”

He cast her a double-take, then his grin deepened. Satisfaction rolling off him in waves, he held up his warrior’s hand to view his ring. “Will any spikes pop out of this, I wonder.”

“Only if you try to take it off.”

A laugh rumbled from his chest. “No chance of that. I’d get you a ring as well, but I’d never find one equal to what you can create.”

“If you wear my ring, I’ll wear your bite.”

He brushed her hair from her neck. “Already it fades.”

“I guess you’ll just have to give me another one.” She felt his shaft pulse at her words.

“Delightedly,” he said in a husky tone. “But first, I meant what I said, Bett. I want to wed you as soon as possible. Today.”

“Okay! It counts as two boons. . . .” Yet then her excitement dimmed somewhat.

“What is it?”

She bit her bottom lip. “Do you recall the woman who was with me in the bar? She’s my patroness, Sabine. She’s been searching for you.” At his quizzical glance, Bettina said, “Her sister has been taken by Vrekeners, and she’s very interested to learn how you reached Skye Hall.”

“I see. Do you want me to help her find her sister?”

“I . . . maybe? In any event, I feel like I should warn you—the more I look at my life, the more complicated it seems. Are you sure you want to sign on?”

Looking very fierce, he grated, “Try and stop me, Bett.” He drew her down against him, her cheek resting against his strong heart.

He squeezed her tighter with a brawny, possessive arm, nuzzling her hair.

“I’m serious, vampire,” she said, tracing nervous patterns over his skin. “Can you handle my assembled ragtag family, a snarky peeping phanTom, life among deathly demons, and potentially a hell-plane intervention for a friend? Oh, and possibly leaving within the hour to plot a Sorceri rescue?”

She felt Daciano grin against her hair and knew what he was about to say. And she knew she’d believe him.

“Yes,” her vampire said simply. “My love, yes .”

© DEANNA MEREDITH STUDIOS

KRESLEY COLEis the #1 New York Times bestselling author of the Immortals After Dark paranormal series and the electrifying new Dacians series. Her Immortals After Dark books have been translated into seventeen foreign languages, garnered two RITA Awards, and consistently appear on the bestseller lists in the United States and abroad. She has also written five award-winning historical romances. Visit her website at www.KresleyCole.com.

The Immortals After Dark Series

The Warlord Wants Forever

A Hunger Like No Other

No Rest for the Wicked

Wicked Deeds on a Winter’s Night

Dark Needs at Night’s Edge