by Unknown
“I thought steak was a happy thought.”
“It is.” Her shoulders shook with the next bout of crying.
Dylan pushed her down onto the bed. Before she guessed his purpose, he was hovering over her, his cock pressed against her entrance. “Want a happy thought?”
“Is this a pity fuck?”
Dylan rolled his eyes. “Are you quite through feeling sorry for yourself? We’ve only an hour of darkness left, and I’d intended to ride you all the way to dawn. And this isn’t fucking.” He pushed his hips forward, spearing into her body.
Emmy’s hands closed over his buttocks, “Then what is it?”
“Did you just stick your tissue to my ass?”
“Oh!” Emmy quickly plucked it off his skin and tossed it over the side of the bed. “You changed the subject again.”
He drew all the way out, and then placed the head of his cock at her entrance again. His green-eyed gaze bored into hers. “Tell me what you want, Emmy.”
“I want you, Dylan.”
He gritted his teeth against the urge to surge inside. “Be more specific.”
“I want your cock inside me?” She was in pain, and he wanted to play semantics?
He shook his head.
“I want you to fuck my brains out!” she shouted at him. What else did he want?
“Not fuck!”
Emmy’s heart stilled. He wanted the truth. He wanted her to say what she’d been feeling. “I want you to…make love to me.”
His breath gusted out. “Was that so hard to say?”
She nodded. “Yeah. It carries certain connotations, you know.”
Dylan circled the head of his penis around her opening. “Tell me more, Emmy. What connotations?”
Emmy’s forehead scrunched into a frown. He wasn’t leaving her any pride. “Such as, you must be in love to make love.” The head penetrated her opening, and she wriggled her hips to caress him with her inner muscles.
“And are you?” he asked. His face was taut. Heat stained his cheeks. But his gaze staked her to the bed.
Her upper lip trembled. “You’re going to make me cry again.”
“Oh no, you’re not.” He pushed deeper inside her. “Only happy thoughts. Fucking is a happy thing, right?”
“I thought you said we were making love?” she wailed and grabbed handfuls of the sheets. “Are you taking it back?”
Dylan flexed his hips, driving his cock inward until he was fully gloved. Then he lowered his body over hers and rested on his elbows. “Am I taking what back, Emmy?”
“That you love me.”
He raised a hand to brush her hair back from her face, while his gaze held hers. “And do I?”
“You must love me.”
“Why’s that?”
“You’re looking at my blowfish face, and you aren’t throwing up.”
His gaze narrowed. “No jokes now, Em. This is just you and I. Only the truth between our skins. Do you think I love you?”
She was afraid to say it in case she wasn’t right. “I mean, you might just be obligated to love me. You sired me, right? You have to love your children.”
His face grimaced. “You make it sound like incest.”
“I like this kind of incest.” She gave him a smile. “Will you fuck me, now?”
“Only if you say the magic words.”
Emmy held perfectly still.
“Em?”
“I’m thinking. If I say it, you’ll feel obligated to say it back. And then I’ll never know the truth until you’re packing a suitcase to run away with the maid.”
“Bloody hell. Just say you love me,” he shouted.
She drew in a deep, ragged breath. “I love you,” she blurted.
He nodded. “Fine. That’s all I asked.” He pulled back and drilled back inside.
Emmy couldn’t help rolling her hips in response to his deepening plunges. But she really wished he’d stop so she could think. “Well? Aren’t you supposed to say something?”
“What?” he asked, closing his eyes and groaning as he picked up the pace.
Emmy’s hips slammed upward to meet his thrusts, even as her face screwed up, ready to wail.
His eyes opened. “Not again. I love you, Em. I didn’t intend to give it to you so easily. You don’t deserve it. I’ve loved you longer, and frankly, you’ve put me through hell.”
“Dylan…” she said, her voice lowered in warning.
“What?”
“Shut up and fuck me. You’re starting to sound like me.”
“Good God!” He leaned back and hooked his arms beneath her legs. “I know one way to make certain neither of us has the strength left to talk.”
Again, Emmy’s hands fisted in the bedding. He was as good as his word. In minutes, she was breathless and grunting with each hard stroke he delivered. His glorious face, red and glistening with sweat. His body was as taut as a bowstring as he pounded at her pussy.
And looking down her body, she saw for the first time what he saw—her body cushioned his thrusts, her belly shivering and rolling, her nipples peaking and beckoning him to suckle.
The parts of them that moved together were wet and lightly furred. His cock a strong, straight sword speared into her warm, wet scabbard.
Their bodies were made for each other. Beautiful together.
“You’re getting that look again,” Dylan said, his breaths coming in short pants.
Emmy sniffed. “I’m not going to cry. I’m going to come.”
“Then hurry it along,” he ground out the words. “I won’t last another minute.”
“But you haven’t changed.”
“I told you. It’s not required. I simply…have to be…completely…” His arms jerked up her hips, snug against his groin. Shorter, sharper thrusts, faster than before.
Emmy’s back arched off the bed, her shoulders grinding into the mattress to press her hips higher. Then she was flying, screaming as she hurtled toward the stars.
When she grew aware of herself again, she looked up to find Dylan staring down at her. And no wonder, she’d thrown her ankles around his neck, and her body was suspended on his cock.
Feeling a little sheepish, she unwrapped her ankles, but Dylan continued to hold her hips flush against his groin. “Sorry. Did I put off your orgasm?”
Dylan slid out of her slowly and dropped her hips on the mattress. His cock was bathed in pearly come.
“Is that you?”
“It’s us, Em.”
“But you’re still—”
“Hard as a stake?”
“A pole.” She shivered. “Stakes anywhere near my person—”
“Yeah, gives me the willies, too.” He grinned and sat back on his haunches. “Do you think we can do that thing again?”
Emmy’s eyelids lowered, and she drew her bottom lip between her teeth. “What thing, Dylan?”
His hand closed around his cock, and he caressed it. An eyebrow quirked. “You know.”
Emmy’s hand slipped between her legs. “Drill for a gusher? Come on, Dylan. Say it.”
“Turn over and get on your knees.”
Emmy was there in under a second, her ass pushing back to meet his cock. Her chest on the mattress, she reached back to spread her cheeks. “Come to Mama.”
He pushed inside, hard and straight, driving forward without pausing to let her tender flesh adjust.
Emmy groaned and pressed her cheeks together to give him as much friction and resistance as her body could bear.
“Bloody hell! You’ve no idea what your ass does to me.” He leaned over her back, his teeth scraping the top of her shoulders.
Emmy pushed up from the mattress and shoved her hips back to take him the rest of the way inside. “It’s an ass to die for, isn’t it, love?”
Dylan licked her shoulder, and then bit her to hold her still.
Emmy wiggled her ass from side to side, grinning. Dylan wouldn’t be able to resist for long.
“Witch!” He
licked her neck then pulled her up so that she sat on his thighs, impaled on his cock. “Now, I get to touch all of you. Who do you think will come first—and loudest?” His hands closed over her breasts and squeezed.
Emmy giggled then pushed one of his hands down her belly, to her sopping pussy. “I planned this. I get all the attention now.”
Strong fingers plucked her clitoris and a nipple. “Think you’re smart? I can make this last forever.”
“You’ll last a minute at most.” She bounced on his lap, intending to show how he couldn’t possibly resist. “Oh!” She hadn’t expected that move to feel so good.
His fingers pushed inside her cunt. He swirled and dug, and swirled and pressed three of his long fingers as far as they could reach.
“Ohmygod!” She bounced faster, her ass stretched and impossibly full, her pussy dripping with another wash of cream.
“Say it again, Em,” he whispered into her ear.
A shiver ran through her. “I love you, Dylan.”
He withdrew his fingers and flattened his hand over her belly, holding her still. “Say it again.”
“I love you,” she groaned. “Now finish it.”
“Bossy little witch.” Another hand joined the one pressing against her belly. “Tell me what you want.”
“Bastard! You know damn well, I want your cock fucking my ass.”
He tsked in her ear. “Such language. And I thought you were a shy little thing.”
“You created this monster,” she reminded him and struggled to move on his cock, but he held her firm. “I was minding my own business, wasn’t looking for any vampire-man—”
“Aren’t you glad I whisked you off your feet and had my way with you?” He kissed her shoulder, and Emmy’s head moved to the side to let him stroke her neck with his rough tongue.
Her hands rose to her breasts, and she rolled her nipples between her fingers, tugging them hard. “Bite me, baby,” she begged.
Fingers combed through the hair of her mound then pulled back the hood of flesh to expose her clitoris. “Pleasure yourself, Emmy.”
Her head fell back to let him watch over her shoulder. She rubbed her clit, gasping as the hypersensitive nub swelled beneath her fingertips.
His hands gripped her ass and lifted her, and she sobbed because her climax swept over her breasts, tightened her belly, and centered on her clit as he levered her hips on his cock.
“These are incredibly happy thoughts,” she said. “Cataclysmic, orgasmic—”
Her vagina convulsed, and the deep pulses shuddered around his dick. She felt his thighs tense before an endless stream of come shot into her.
“Promise me, you’ll love me forever,” she said, when she’d finally found her breath again.
“I will,” he said, his voice roughened, his monster face rubbing on her shoulder. His embrace hugged her tight to his body.
“Promise me, we’ll go after Quentin.”
Dylan stilled.
Rolling her eyes, she snorted. “I know he’s gone after Nicky, alone. I don’t have a good feeling about that situation.”
“I won’t let you anywhere near Nicky. Not again. We’re staying here.”
Emmy pulled away from Dylan and turned to face him. “Nicky touched me, Dylan. He stripped me, shamed me, and then tried to kill me.”
Dylan bared his teeth, his fearsome face contorted with rage.
Emmy reached up to smooth her hand over his forehead. “He marked me. But you made me a part of this. I have to be there.”
Dylan shook his head, beyond words.
“Promise me?” she asked, unable to tear away her gaze.
His face reformed slowly, his breath evening to normal. “I promise. But you will rest and gain strength before we leave.”
Emmy blinked away the moisture that pooled in her eyes. “All right. We’ll leave when the time is right.” Feeling very tired all of sudden, she stretched out on the bed. “Can we sleep now?”
Dylan crawled over her and laid his head on her breast. “I’ll wake you with kisses.”
Emmy combed her fingers through his hair, soothing him to sleep. Her dark, immortal knight had saved her life and her soul. As she held him, she made a final vow to keep his heart safe.
When the dawn’s light peeked around the edges of the curtains, Emmy’s arms wound tightly around Dylan’s shoulders, and she held him to her heart.
About Delilah Devlin
Delilah Devlin is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of erotica and erotic romance with a rapidly expanding reputation for writing deliciously edgy stories with complex characters. She has published over a hundred forty erotic stories in multiple genres and lengths, and she is published by Atria/Strebor, Avon, Berkley, Black Lace, Cleis Press, Ellora’s Cave, Grand Central, Harlequin Spice, HarperCollins: Mischief, Kensington, Montlake Romance, Running Press, and Samhain Publishing.
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From Truly, Madly…Deadly, Night Fall series, Book 2
“He’s coming in. Get ready,” Joe’s voice jerked Darcy Henry to wakefulness.
Berating herself for dozing off during a stakeout, she fumbled for the switch on her night vision goggles. Instantly, the landscape before her was awash in shades of luminescent green. She scanned the water’s edge. The crests of the ebbing tides rolled onto the beach, unbroken by any sign of “Bat-boy.” Had she already missed her opportunity?
“Where do you see him?” she whispered into the mike on her headset, glad the roar of the incoming surf masked their voices.
“Ten o’clock. Get cocked.”
She reached for her crossbow and drew back the linen cord with both hands and latched it in the spring clip. Then she slid a steel-tipped arrow onto the track. Sighting down the shaft of the arrow, she braced the bow in her left palm and dug her elbow into the sand. With the stock snug against her shoulder, her right forefinger slid around the trigger and she turned her sights back to the water’s edge—just in time to see a tall figure stride out of the surf.
He fit the description of the new vamp in town she’d purchased from the barman at the “blood bank.” Only the barman hadn’t filled in all the details. Darcy stiffened against her body’s sudden surge of attraction and firmly reminded herself the vamp’s body was like any other man’s. Yeah, right.
Her gaze flickered over him, inventorying his characteristics—for her After Action Report. Broad-shouldered, leanly muscled, just over six feet tall. Blond, she could tell, despite the fact his hair was plastered to his head. Handsome, too. With broad prominent cheekbones, a longish straight nose, and lips that appeared permanently curved in a smirk.
Unable to resist the temptation, she adjusted the lenses of her goggles to zoom, and her gaze slipped lower. His package was as fine arriving as his ass had been going into the water. His long, uncircumcised cock dangled between his legs. Something not mentioned in the barman’s description—and definitely not something that would make it into her AAR.
“Cease!” Joe said, impatience clipping his words. “A civilian’s in your line of sight.”
Darcy lowered the bow, cursing under her breath. “Where? And how the hell did we miss that?” she whispered angrily.
“She had to have been here when we arrived,” Joe replied. “If I hadn’t seen her hand rise above the dune…”
Nothing was ever as simple as it seemed. A vampire spotted on Vero Beach just happened to meet the description of a suspected killer they’d circulated that day.
This night’s stakeout might be a bust after all. They’d have to track him to his lair and try to take him out while he slept. Dusting a sleeping vampire never sat well with Darcy. Too unsportsmanlike. Asleep, even a probable serial killer like
this one wore a face like an innocent.
She burrowed deeper into the wet sand at the bottom of her shallow foxhole, prepared to wait it out. This time she wouldn’t doze, no matter how balmy this November night grew. Too many late nights and too little sleep, were taking their toll on the whole team. Instead, she concentrated on how uncomfortable she was with damp sand working its way into her clothing and the smell of rotting seaweed all around her.
Having a target to observe helped. Hopefully, the vamp wouldn’t make a meal of his host or Darcy would be forced to intervene. Hand-to-hand with a vamp was a last resort. Humans almost always lost to their superior strength. No matter how many degrees of black belt one had earned.
Joe let out a low whistle. “Damn! How’d a ghoul like that get a such a fine piece of ass?”
A woman sat up near the top of a dune, her arms outstretched, revealing a slender back, rounded hips and a cascade of long, dark hair.
The male vamp went down on his knees and leaned over her.
Darcy tensed, ready to spring to the woman’s rescue at the first sign of fangs.
Instead, the woman’s back arched to offer her breasts to her lover. His mouth closed over a beaded tip and the woman’s loud groan of approval was discernible over the rumble of the incoming tide.
Joe’s soft laughter sounded in Darcy’s ear. “Better take notes, Darc. See what you’re missing?”
Darcy knew better than to answer her partner. Any response would only add fodder to the ribbing she’d receive at the Special Unit’s outbrief in the morning. Her lack of a social life was already a favorite topic.
As it was, she was glad the guys weren’t “wired in” to her goggles. Joe’s fed the monitor in the van parked further down the beach.
Maybe she’d get even luckier and the vamp would move his tryst indoors.
Instead, he released the woman’s breast. With his hands braced on either side of her, the tops of his shoulders rippled as he “walked” down her body, his head circling as he kissed a path across her belly. Then he moved lower.
Darcy squirmed. When was the last time a man had buried his face in her pussy? God, had it really been three years since Manny had transferred to Miami-Dade?