Page 142 of Maksym

She withdrew carefully. Too carefully. The lawyer still present even in ruin. Her tongue passed over the punctures, sealing them closed.

I shuddered.

By then, I had shed the pajama pants. I did not remember doing it, only that silk no longer restrained me and my cock stood hard between us, slick at the tip, heavy in my own hand.

Grace looked down.

Her lips parted.

A smear of my blood remained on her lower lip. She licked it away slowly, not as seduction, I thought, but instinct.

It was the most erotic thing I had ever seen.

I leaned in and licked the last trace from her mouth myself. She made a soft sound as my tongue passed over her lip. I kissed her once. Twice. Then looked into her eyes.

“Are you ready for me, my queen?”

Her hands came to my shoulders. Not trembling now. Holding.

“Now, Maksym.”

There was no force on earth that could have made me refuse her.

I settled between her thighs and lined myself up at her entrance. She was slick, open, still pulsing faintly from orgasm. I pushed the head of my cock inside her and stopped.

Her nails dug into my shoulders.

“Color?”

“Green,” she said immediately. “More.”

I drove in.

Not halfway. Not cautiously enough to insult what she had asked for. I entered her in one deep thrust, and she took me with a cry that broke my name into pieces.

Heat closed around me. Tight. Wet. Alive.

I froze, buried inside her, every muscle locked.

She stared up at me, stunned, then rolled her hips.

My control nearly shattered.

“Grace.”

“Move,” she demanded.

So I moved.

Slowly at first, withdrawing until only the head of my cock remained inside her, then thrusting back deep. Her body met me. Not passively. Not as something acted upon. She lifted into every stroke with full strength, hips rising, thighs gripping my sides, nails dragging down my back.

New vampire power surged through her. Through us.

She staggered me.

I laughed once, breathless and amazed, then thrust harder.

“That’s it,” I said. “Take me.”