“Sebastian...” His name whispered from her lips was nothing short of worship. That wasn’t how it would be between them, though. He would give everything of himself to the woman who’d pulled him from the edge of madness time and time again.
He fit himself between the cradle of her thighs, so very, very tempted to push his cock deep inside her. To fill her until there was little doubt that he was part of her. Instead, Bast crossed to her other breast, loving it with the same force.
His fingers moved languidly over the curve of her belly, and he memorized the way she felt beneath fingertips sensitive to every part of her now. When he brushed the fine hair covering her mound, his dick hardened impossibly more. Even his new wings trembled with excitement.
The reminder of his change yanked him from a sexual haze. Bast clenched his jaw, fighting for control of his body. He tried to distract himself. “I would stop if you asked me, Alice. It would kill me but I would stop.”
She lifted her head and gifted him with a wry smile. “Stop, and I’ll be the one to kill you.”
Bast laughed, his heart no longer pounding in expectation of her refusal, but in jubilant freedom. Warm moisture greeted him when his fingers moved down a fraction, confirming that she indeed still wanted him. Alice’s legs parted wider, her hips tilting. She gave herself to him willingly, her body language encouraging his touch.
His wings folded behind him, finally tucking out of his way, and Bast dropped to the floor. From his kneeling position, the glistening folds of her pussy drew his attention. Nothing else in the room mattered but this woman and the pleasure he could bring her.
He leaned forward, his intent clear. The moment his mouth covered her lower lips, he let his eyelids flutter closed. Her taste was almost muted at first, warm and silken, but not nearly enough. Bast pushed his tongue into her body, lapping at the piquant tang.
His heart thudded loudly, almost as if it danced in his ears. He could have drowned beneath the sound if he weren’t so focused on tasting the most intimate part of her.
Above him, Alice didn’t seem to know whether she wanted to close her legs around his head or to widen them. Her body writhed beneath the way he kissed her, the rise and fall of her hips available to him only peripherally. No, what he focused on, what he wanted to study, was the way her belly undulated, the way the tips of her breasts peaked and then fell as she fought to breathe. The way her hands pushed into his hair, grasping his skull closer, made him growl low in his throat.
“Oh God!” Her whisper erupted into a cry and her cunt contracted wonderfully against his mouth.
She gasped for air and, with a wicked swell of pride, Bast decided to allow her the luxury. He lifted up, gaze taking in every erotic inch of her from his current position. “Sorry...am I not doing it right?” he asked. Knowing damn well he was.
“I’ve changed my mind. You’re going to kill me,” she complained. Her eyes were unfocused, her breathy statement almost unintelligible.
He ran his lips over the sensitive skin of her thighs. Alice twisted beneath his scorching touch, almost as if he branded her with his mouth, a moan spilling from her in approval.
“Would it be such a horrible way to die?”
Alice opened her arms, and Bast crawled toward her, his tongue skimming along the silky length of her stomach. When he reached her breasts, he placed a lingering kiss on each one before moving to the object of his intent.
“Not at all,” she whispered. Her arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer. Holding him as they kissed.
His lips touched down again and again, breathing in the scent of her all the while. Her taste. Her.
Pleasure rippled down his spine, spreading through his wings. He felt splendid. Languid. A sense of rightness almost overwhelming him.
He wondered if this is how it was meant to be between men and women. If soulless murderers like the warriors he’d chosen to become even knew feeling like this was possible. Of course women were there to be worshipped bodily, but surely not for this precise weaving that interlaced him with her. It went beyond lust and wanton need.
It humbled him how much he’d come to feel for Alice.
* * *
Her heart swelled for him. The man. The vampire. The mystery he’d become.