Part 2 (2/2)

”The bar you're clutching.”

Darcy looked down and realized she still held her mother's soap in her hand. She held it up for him.

Leaning close, he sniffed then took the bar. ”Raspberries. My favorite. Now, come here.” He drew her away from the water and sat on the ledge at the far end of the stall, pulling her to stand between his open thighs. With a twirl of his finger, he indicated that she should turn around.

She shot him one last meaningless glare and turned. She listened as he worked the lather between his hands.

Then he glided his soapy hands over her skin from shoulders to b.u.t.tocks, and all the sensitive points in between. By the time his hands reached her a.s.s, Darcy's heart beat loudly. His hands parted her b.u.t.tocks, and his finger trailed down the crevice. ”No sand here,” he said, gravel in his voice.

In the creases between her legs and b.u.t.tocks, he found a trace of grit, so he lifted her cheeks and spent minutes soaping and smoothing to ensure not a granule was missed. By the time he'd finished, Darcy couldn't keep her legs from wobbling, and she was ready to scream.

When he turned her to wash her front, Darcy's gaze fell on his face. His nostrils were flared, his cheeks reddened, and the smirk was now a tight line of tension. Gratified he was every bit as overcome with desire as she was, Darcy gave herself over to his touch. Just this once, she'd be weak.

He lathered his hands again and reached for her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Already tight and puckered, her nipples caught the soap bubbles he smoothed there. His large hands dwarfed her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, but despite her earlier doubts, he played with them, apparently fascinated.

His fingers rolled her nipples, tugged and squeezed until they stretched, fully engorged. She nearly protested when he left them to glide his hands down her belly. He swirled a finger inside her belly b.u.t.ton, and Darcy's abdomen jumped and quivered, her legs once again turning to jelly. Then he reached lower.

She parted her legs to make room for his hands, and he swept them between, rubbing over her outer l.a.b.i.a. Then he split them to finger her tender inner lips.

Darcy reached for his shoulders to steady herself and leaned to rest her head on his shoulder as his fingers rimmed her c.u.n.t, circling, rubbing.

He found her c.l.i.toris and plucked it. ”Lift your leg over mine.”

He didn't want mere compliance-he demanded her knowing partic.i.p.ation.

Darcy was beyond any pretense of defiance. She lifted one leg and draped it over his. The s.p.a.ce between her legs was wide open for his marauding fingers to explore. Her nails bit into his shoulders.

Looking down the s.p.a.ce between their bodies, Darcy gasped, her breath growing shallow and raspy. Their differences, human to vampire, weren't important now. How their bodies complimented each other's, feminine to masculine, a.s.sumed precedence. Something deep inside her soft core yearned to yield to his mastery.

His erection stood straight up, veins crisscrossing beneath golden skin tinged with red. The wide, plump head looked soft and purplish. She couldn't resist smoothing a fingertip over it.

”No touching. Not yet,” he said, his words clipped.

He rolled the bar of soap between his palms, working up more lather, and then set it aside. When his hands descended to her crotch, Darcy closed her eyes and let her head fall back.

His fingers rubbed over the hair on her mons, tugging, ma.s.saging, and then he reached lower to follow the lines where her thighs met her p.u.s.s.y, his fingers smoothing, yet creating an ache that drew her belly taut.

She widened her legs even more and sank slightly on one knee to rock against his hand. Hurry! She wanted to shout at him. She needed him to be inside her, now.

He traced a finger between her l.a.b.i.a.

Darcy sucked in a breath, sure that now he would dip inside.

”Open your eyes.” He removed one of his hands from her and circled his c.o.c.k. ”This is vampire c.o.c.k, sweetheart,” he said, his voice roughening.

”What? You think once I've had vamp, I'll never go back?” As soon as the words were spoken, she regretted her quip. A habit she tended to do when nervous.

Quentin's face broke into grin. ”I can guarantee any man who comes after me will be found wanting.”

”You think highly of yourself, don't you?”

”I've over a hundred and fifty years of practical experience, love. I'm just stating facts.”

A hundred and fifty years of f.u.c.king? She wet her lips with her tongue. ”From where I'm standing, I'm not seeing anything that special.” Liar!

His hand glided up and down himself. ”This is only one piece of the equipment, love. But I'm getting ahead of myself. I want to describe the process, so there will be no surprises. I don't want to frighten you.”

”I'm not scared.” Her skittering heartbeat made a liar out of her.

One brow rose, mocking her a.s.sertion. ”Well, then let's get on with it.” The hand between her legs rubbed over her hip, then clasped one b.u.t.tock to force her closer. He angled his c.o.c.k forward to her p.u.s.s.y and pushed between her legs.

Darcy's nails bit harder into his shoulders, but she refused to betray her excitement in her expression. She pressed her lips tightly together and dared him with her eyes to take her.

Instead, he leaned forward and kissed her. Darcy gasped, and he took advantage, sliding his tongue into her mouth.

She tilted her head and deepened the kiss. When her own tongue swept inside his mouth, she encountered sharp barriers.

She tried to jerk away, but the hand on her a.s.s anch.o.r.ed her against his hard, lean body. Her skin noted changes there, too.

”I wanted to prepare you.” His voice was deeper, rougher. Quentin was losing his veneer of humanity, changing into his vampire self. He pressed her a.s.s closer, causing his c.o.c.k to rub against her aching c.u.n.t. His gaze pinned her like a b.u.t.terfly to a mounting board. ”Tell me you don't want this.”

Darcy s.h.i.+vered in his embrace, her nipples constricting tightly. ”Just this once,” she whispered, not recognizing the husky tone of her voice.

The corners of his lips curved, and the tips of his fangs appeared. He stood, his c.o.c.k pus.h.i.+ng unerringly inside her c.u.n.t, higher, deeper, until his hips lifted her from the floor.

Darcy gasped loudly. She'd known he was large, but knowing and knowing were two different things entirely. Her p.u.s.s.y was stretched to the limit. The walls of her v.a.g.i.n.a eased around him, softening to accept his intrusion.

In two steps, he pushed her beneath the shower's spray, pressing her back against the tiled wall.

As water sheeted over her face, Darcy closed her eyes. Her legs rose to wrap tightly around his hips, and her arms clutched his shoulders. Instantly, her focus became the rigid pole of his s.e.x, driving impossibly deep inside her. His hips rolled. Darcy's back rose and fell against the wall, and her legs squeezed to draw him closer, deeper.

His hands grasped her b.u.t.tocks, and he lifted and shoved her hips down, causing a friction between her v.a.g.i.n.a and his c.o.c.k that threatened to sweep over her like a wildfire.

”Give me your neck,” he growled.

Now! Now she'd find out what a true vamp-induced o.r.g.a.s.m felt like. She rolled her head to the side and offered her neck for their pleasure.

His tongue lapped at her skin, and Darcy trembled. Then his fangs bit into her, and her breath hissed between her teeth. A short, sharp pain was followed by an indescribable euphoria as his mouth suctioned against her neck.

Darcy grew still in his arms, sensation overpowering her limbs. Her pa.s.sion-drugged senses noted his body was hardening, muscles expanding. His c.o.c.k thickened and lengthened, and Darcy's hips lurched. She whimpered.

His teeth pulled away. ”Wait. Will ease.” His chest and hips shook.

Darcy opened her eyes and saw his savage mask. Plates of bony armor pushed out his forehead, altering his gaze into a sinister, hooded leer. His mouth dripped with her blood.

”I don't want you to stop.” She bit her lips and moaned when his hips jerked beneath her. ”Move! Move now!”

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