Her soft hands were pressed to his chest and her head back so she could look up at him for he was a good foot taller than she. In the moonlight her green eyes had a chatoyance to them like those of his Panthera race.
“I didn’t mean to scare you but you need to calm down,” he said softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “What has you so distraught, wench?”
“My mother,” she said.
“What of her?”
“She is making this an ordeal instead of a pleasure,” she complained. “First it was the flowers then it was the ermine carpet she wants me to walk up.” She gave him a pleading, dejected look. “Ermine, Ricky? Really? Really?”
He threw back his head and laughed, his chest rumbling.
“It’s not funny!” she said and tried to wiggle out of his arms, pressing her forehead to his chest in her effort to break free.
“Shush, now,” he said. “There will be no little critters perishing so you will be forced to walk on their hides.”
She flinched and made a slight little hopeless sound. “It’s just awful. Awful!”
He hooked his index finger under her chin and tilted her head. His heart missed a beat as he took in her beautiful face—as scrunched up as it was as she struggled not to cry. He could barely find his voice because he was so filled with love for her.
“Would you like me to talk to the Lady Maripose?” he asked, hoping she’d say no.
Which she did.
“No, it’s my problem and I will handle it but I will not…” She stamped her foot. “Let her send men out to hunt down those precious animals!”
“Nor will I,” he pledged.
She gave him a tremulous smile. “You promise?”
He lowered his forehead to hers. “I promise. Now come here.” He folded her against him once more with her cheek pressed over his heart.
“I don’t know if I can stand another day of this,” she said.
“You need to relax,” he said.
“I need you,” she said.
Her words—though innocent enough—made him instantly hard. His cock leapt and her body clenched for he knew she could feel the rigid press of it against her stomach.
“Ricky?” she questioned in a thin, squeaky voice.
“Ignore it, wench,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut. “It’ll go away.”
“Is th-that an erection?” she whispered.
He groaned. “Tonia, please!” He tried to move away from her but her hands were snagged in his shirt. When her right hand began to slide down his chest, he went completely still. The moment her palm grazed the fly of his pants he all but collapsed to the ground in a heap. It had been months since last he’d lain with a woman and he wanted this one so badly he had been taking matters in hand two and three times a day. Cold showers had all but congealed his blood. With her hand on him at that moment, it was all he could do not to throw her to the ground.
She molded her hand around the bulge and his knees went weak. His cock leapt again and throbbed so brutally he had to bite down on his lip, sinking his fangs into the flesh.
“Does it hurt when it’s like this?” she asked, rubbing him as though to ease away any pain he might feel. “Surely it does. It is so hard.”
“Tonia, no,” he managed to say in an almost conversational voice, reaching down to grip her wrist. “You are playing with fire and don’t even know it!”
“It doesn’t hurt?”
“It hurts like you can’t believe,” he said with a moan. “But please, don’t…”
“Then let me soothe the pain,” she told him. She tried to put her hand on him again but he kept it away from his crotch. “Ricky, let me help you.”
“Ah, goddess,” he whimpered.
“Would you prefer Cherise to relieve you?” she asked in a thin voice. “She has offered to pleasure you and she is well experienced in—”
“I don’t want any woman save you!” he stated. He stepped back, urgently needing to break contact with her, to put distance between him and that sweet hand before he unmanned himself before her.
“Did I do something wrong?” she asked, her pretty face crinkling with hurt.
“No, love, no!” he was quick to tell her. “It’s just when a man desires a woman as strongly as I desire you, he—”
“You desire me?” she asked breathlessly.
“Ah, goddess, wench, you have to know I do!” he replied around a groan.
“Then let me service you,” she said.
“No!” He all but hopped back away from her and it was at that moment—for whatever reason—she put out her little tongue and curled it over her bottom lip.
That was his undoing.
He sprang forward, grabbed her and buried his hand in her hair, angling her head so he could take her mouth with his.
She gave a little gasp as his lips covered hers. She had them clamped shut but he swept his tongue over them until she opened to him. He wasted no time in gently thrusting into her warm mouth.
Other than kissing her wrist he had not ventured into this forbidden realm. He knew himself well enough to know that if he didn’t keep a strong grip on his body things would escalate out of control for the goddess-be-damned thing had a mind of its own.
And at that moment, his body wanted Antonia Blackthorn like no woman it had ever craved before. Before he knew what he was doing, without breaking the kiss, he pulled her from the pathway and into the deeper cover of the garden—away from prying eyes. He lowered her to the ground and slid his body atop hers, pinning her to the cool, crisp layer of leaves from the sycamore tree overhead.
Moving his mouth like a starving man over her lips, thrusting in and out slowly with his tongue, he wedged himself between her legs and pressed his engorged cock against her center.
“Ricky!” she cried out, her hands clawing at his shoulders.
A part of his mind warned him she was innocent, that she had no real notion of what would happen if he dared allow it. She was instinctively arching her hips in offering and he wanted nothing more than to accept but their Joining night was only two days away. He could wait. The other part of his mind screamed at him to give her a taste of what she could expect on their Joining night, to ready her for the pleasures only he would ever give her.
“Please,” she whispered against his lips. Hers were swollen from his kisses and her eyes in the moonlight were glittering with need.
“Baby, I—”
She dug her nails into his shirt. “I belong to you,” she said.
Which was, perhaps, the very worst thing she could have uttered.
With no thought other than to satisfy the raging desire to do so, he yanked up the hem of her gown. Dragging it up her legs, he sucked in a harsh breath as his fingertips slid over the soft, pliant flesh of her thighs. He couldn’t have stopped even had he wanted to and his fingers thrust under the leg band of her panties and ripped them from her in one savage jerk. She twitched beneath him and her eyes widened at the sound of the material ripping. She opened her mouth to say something but he would never know what for he turned his hand to cup the very core of her.
Beneath his palm she was wet for him. Slick for him. That she was both stunned and elated him. He growled low in his throat, the scent of her need driving deep into his nostrils. The heat of her scorched his palm. He could no more deny himself the pleasure of rubbing that silky, hot expanse than he could stop breathing.
She moaned under his firm, rhythmic stroke. Her hips writhed under him and he shifted so he lay only on one of her thighs to give himself better access to her damp folds.
“Spread your legs wider,” he ordered in a gruff voice.
Her brow furrowed for a split second then smoothed as she did as he told her. She squirmed as he pressed the tips of his fingers higher up the cleft of her ass.
“Lie still,” he said softly. She tried to wriggle again and he raised his hand from her. She whimpered. “Are you going to lie still?”
“Aye,” she said,
her breath coming ragged and quick.
As soon as she settled down he laid his hand on her again. Her eyelids fluttered then closed. She ran her tongue along her top lip. Against the side of her leg, his cock stirred and a sweet smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
“You like when he nudges you, eh?” he queried.
“Very much,” she said and once more she licked her lip.
“Then let’s try this and see if it is to your liking.”
He stroked upward, dipping just the tip of his finger into the sweetness of her cunt on the way.
“Garrick!” she hissed and sank her nails into his shoulders.
“Aye, wench?”
She sighed as he stroked downward again.
“Put your hands above your head,” he said.
“Why?”
“Just do it, Antonia,” he told her and she did.
Not wanting to rush but beginning to sweat from the lust that was riding him hard, he lowered his lips to hers and began soft, gentle kisses upon her mouth, her cheeks, and her chin. He slowly worked his way down the side of her neck. The moment his mouth touched that sensitive span of flesh between neck and shoulder, she writhed and tried to lift her hips again.
“Don’t,” he commanded.
A sigh of frustration was his answer but she obediently obeyed.
He kissed his way along the flesh not covered by the scooped neck of her gown then ventured on to the rise of her breast beneath the material, settling his mouth over the apex of the sweet mound.
“Ahh,” she moaned for he knew she could feel the heat of his breath through the silk of the gown and the cup of her bra.
Invading her on two fronts, he spread the fingers of the hand that was stroking her between the legs so that the index and ring fingers slipped into the soft, wet folds.
Her hips bucked again and he lifted his head to give her a stern look.
“If you do that one more time, I’m going to remove my hand and take my leave, wench,” he said sternly.
“No,” she whimpered.
“Then lie still,” he said. “Am I making myself clear?”
She nodded, tucking her bottom lip between her teeth.
“All right,” he said then lowered his head to her breast.
Slowly he dragged his fingers through her softness as he plucked at her nipple beneath the restriction of the fabric. She was beginning to pant as the sexual tension built within her. Using his Vampire abilities, he gently slipped into her mind to see when she’d last had a climax and was stunned to find out she never had. He knew she was a virgin in fact but at her age she should have had a least a few wet dreams or experimented with her body. That she had not pleased him immensely. He would be the first to show her what pleasure truly was.
He pressed his body harder to her side and hooked his leg to draw hers tighter to his crotch. Her gasp and the quiver of her body drew his mouth from her breast. He nudged her face to the side and put his lips to her ear.
“I want you, wench,” he whispered, his hot breath against her flesh.
She moaned and he increased the pressure of his fingers.
“I need you,” he said and slipped his middle finger into her wet center. Almost instantly he felt the ripples of her first orgasm.
She stiffened—her heels digging into the ground—and she opened her mouth to scream as she came. He could not allow that for fear it would bring the castle guards running. With the supernatural speed of his Vampire species he withdrew his hands from between her thighs to slap his palm across her mouth.
“Shush, wench!” he said against her ear.
Her body was shuddering as the orgasm rocked her. Her eyes were wide, her chest heaving, heart thundering, blood racing. Beneath his palm he could feel her teeth chattering and he smiled.
He had fucking tilted her world on its axis with such little effort he knew when he put the full force of his experience behind it after their Joining, she would be a wildcat in their bed. That he could pleasure her, fulfill her, and satisfy her better than any man ever could was a surety in his mind.
“You are mine,” he whispered, tugging her face toward him so he could gauge her reaction to his words. “Until a day after forever you are mine.”
Antonia shivered one last time then lay still, her eyes locked on his. His hand was still covering her mouth so she could not agree with him. Instead, she looped her arms around his neck and pulled his head toward her. When he slipped his hand from her mouth, she took his in a kiss that surprised him. Her tongue danced with his then slid seductively into his mouth for the first time. A quiver of his own undulated down his body and he pulled back. He knew if he didn’t stop now, didn’t get away from her and the scent of her orgasm, he would compromise her there on the hard ground.
He peeled her arms from his neck, put his hands to either side of her and pushed away, gaining his feet so quickly she couldn’t stop him. Her groan of frustration was almost his undoing. He held his hand out to her to help her to her feet.
She put her hand in his and he levered her up, stepping back for he dared not allow his body to touch her again. The raging erection in his pants was scalding him and he needed to relieve himself of the agony. He stepped back into the shadows so she could not see the evidence of that stony hard-on.
“Good eve, milady,” he said and simply vanished before her eyes.
Antonia stared at the spot where he had been standing only seconds before. She wasn’t sure her legs would hold her up long enough to walk to the stone bench a few feet away under the sycamore tree. She was quivering like a leaf and her heart was hammering as though she’d been running full-out for several minutes.
“Sweet Sibylline,” she breathed, her body tingling where his had pressed against it. Between her legs had come a feeling like none she’d ever felt before but surely wanted to experience again.
With Garrick.
Just thinking of his strong, muscular body hard against her made her ache between her legs.
“You have bewitched me, Vampire,” she said softly. “Beguiled and glamoured me.”
And she prayed he would do so again.
And again.
And again.
Garrick was shaking like a leaf when he materialized inside his room. Thankful Marcus had been given his own room far distant from his own, he stood in the center of the luxurious surroundings and gulped air as though he’d been deprived of breath for hours.
He swallowed hard then fumbled with the fly of his leather pants. Never had the goddess-be-damned buttons given him so much trouble as he ran them. Freeing his cock from the tight restriction, he spat in his palm then wrapped his fingers around himself. He pumped his fist as fast and hard as he could. Letting his head fall back, he squeezed his eyes shut and pictured Antonia in his mind, imagining it was her tight cunt wrapped around him. His knees felt weak as he shifted his legs farther apart to brace himself. He knew when he came, it would be with a violent explosion of seed.
He was right.
The release was so forceful, so powerful, he saw stars behind his tightly closed lids. He staggered from the strength of it as wave after wave of cum shot vigorously from his aching shaft.
He opened his eyes, lowered his head and was stunned to see his seed had landed a good three feet away from where he stood. “Mother of the goddess,” he whispered as his cock pulsed one last time and a dribble of cum fell to the carpet at his feet. He stared at the glistening pearl splotches on the carpet that he needed to clean up before anyone saw what he’d done.
Stuffing himself back into his pants, he wasn’t surprised his fingers were shaking as he buttoned the fly. He couldn’t remember ever having such a brutal orgasm and was thankful he hadn’t been inside Antonia when it came.
“Milady, you have entrapped me like no other ever could,” he said to the empty room.
He stumbled to the bed and sat down heavily, plowed a shaking hand through his hair. Staring unseeingly across the room, he thought of her silke
n body wrapped around his cock as had been his hand and once more his shaft began to throb, to harden.
“Easy, boy,” he said, glancing down at his wayward appendage. “Soon we will make her truly ours.”
That night would not come soon enough for him.
Chapter Five
“Are you sure about this?”
“Aye.”
“Positive?”
“Aye.”
“Without a shadow of a doubt?”
“Aye.”
“Without any kind of reservation?”
Garrick turned a scowl to his cradle-to-grave friend. “Ask me one more stupid fucking question and I will gut you, Zoltán.”
Marc pursed his lips and shook his head. “Mistake, mistake, mistake,” he mumbled.
“Mine to make,” Garrick stated.
The man he had chosen to be his second-in-command of the Modarthan army reached out and grabbed his arm. “Listen!”
Garrick cocked his head to the side. “What?”
“Listen!” Marc insisted, tugging hard on Garrick’s arm.
Straining his ears to hear whatever had caught his friend’s attention, the Crimson Lord’s brows drew together. “What is it I’m supposed to be hearing?”
“The sound of hundreds of women moaning with despair at losing a cocksman of your caliber and talent.”
Garrick rolled his eyes. “Fuck you, Zoltán,” he snapped.
“Aye, well, if you go through with this Joining, the only fucking you’ll be doing is between the thighs of your bride,” Marc warned him.
“Creamy thighs that they are,” Garrick replied with a grin. “Creamy and soft and strong. The better to wrap around me.”
“And strangle your ass,” Marc grumbled.
“Trust me when I say that isn’t what she wants to do to my ass,” Garrick told him.
“Blech,” Marc said and turned away, obvious giving up on trying to convince Garrick of the error of his ways.
“Be happy for me, Marc,” Garrick said.
“I can’t when I believe you are making a mistake,” Marc replied. “Nevertheless, I will stand beside you as your surrogate father though you’re an old man compared to me.”
DeliveredIntoHisHands Page 6