A shudder worked through his body. “Sabine.”
Her lips opened over him. Her tongue snaked out, tasting the moisture on his tip. Her fingers curled around the base of his cock, the perfect position to let her maintain control, then she began to lick him. Again and again. Tasting his flesh, then parting her lips and taking him inside her mouth.
His cheeks hollowed. His whole expression altered. Lust. Animal need.
His hands jerked away from the wall. Locked around her shoulders.
She kept tasting him. Her head moved up and down. Sabine sucked his flesh, took him in deeper, and let her tongue swirl over him.
He grew even bigger in her mouth. His h*ps were thrusting, driving his c**k harder against her, but she tightened her grip around him. Didn’t take him all the way inside of her mouth. Instead Sabine just tasted and teased and tormented.
“Need. More.” His growl was one of the sexiest things she’d ever heard.
As a reward, she gave him a little more.
His hands tightened on her. “Fucking . . . good.”
It was about to get better.
She sucked him, harder. Took a little more of that heavy shaft—
And he pushed her away. Sabine blinked. “What—”
He yanked her jeans off her. Shredded her underwear. Spun her around and lifted her against the wall. Before she could even say his name, Ryder was plunging into her.
Then she could only sigh his name. Could only lock her legs around his h*ps and shove her body back against his as hard as she could.
This wasn’t some tame need. Wasn’t something made in a lab. This was lust. Raw. As wild as it could be. Desperate.
Her nails bit into his shoulders. She could feel her canines stretching, sharpening, as the telltale ache filled her mouth. Being like this . . . with him . . . it made her want to bite. She wanted his blood because she wanted him. Wanted him in her. Wanted him to be a part of her.
She sank her teeth into his neck. He pumped harder. Her back shoved against the wall. His blood was on her tongue, and the taste was strangely sweet, but rich. Like decadent chocolate.
Pleasure hit her, not a crest or a spike but a shattering explosion that wrecked her. Her mouth lifted from his throat, and she tried to suck in some desperately needed air, but all she could do was pant and shudder because the pleasure had left her too weak.
Pleasure unlike anything she’d ever known. The kind of pleasure, well, that people just might kill for.
And Ryder was with her. She felt the hard jerks of his hips. His hands tightened even more around her as he emptied into her core. When his head lifted, she saw the blindness in his gaze. Pleasure.
Then his mouth was on hers. Stroking. Licking. Kissing.
Her heartbeat struggled to calm down. She kept touching him, because she didn’t want to ever stop.
Her legs were still tight around his hips. She should probably try to stand. Probably, but she wasn’t.
“You only bite me,” he began, his words growling out, “when we f**k.”
She felt a blush stain her cheeks. “Guess that’s when you bring out the animal in me.”
His gaze searched hers. “You always seem to bring out my darkness.”
He was thickening within her once more. She tightened her inner muscles around him. “Is that all I bring out?”
“No.”
She’d hoped to get a smile from him, but his face seemed even tenser than before.
“You make me very, very dangerous.” He withdrew his cock, then pushed back into her. Her already too-sensitive flesh loved that push. “Because you make me need you too much.”
Was it possible to need someone too much?
“I warned you,” he said, pushing into her again, and the rush of pleasure started to pulse through her once more, “but it’s already too late.”
She licked her lips. Wanted to lick him. “Too late for what?”
“To get away.”
Did she look like she was running?
Another withdraw, then a hard thrust of his flesh into hers. “You’re mine now,” Ryder said, “and I won’t let you go.”
The words were fierce and possessive. Before she could speak, he was kissing her again. The rhythm of his thrusts grew faster. The passion flared again, and Sabine forgot about warnings.
She only thought of pleasure.
The bar emptied out at dawn, the way it always did. If it was a normal bar, maybe the patrons would linger. There was always some kind of party in New Orleans.
But Bran’s Castle wasn’t normal, and even though their flesh didn’t burn in the sunlight—total Hollywood BS—vampires didn’t exactly love hopping around in the daylight.