Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter Colletion_ Books 6-10 - Laurell K. Hamilton [482]
He put his large hands on the insides of my thighs and spread my legs. He slid his hands along my thighs until they cupped my buttocks, bringing my groin against his face. He laid his cheek against me, licking a quick line along my hip. My heart was beating so hard, I couldn’t get a good breath, but I could talk. “Please, Richard, please. Please.”
He slid one hand between my thighs. One finger slid inside me. I shuddered, head back, eyes closed.
“You’re wet,” he said.
I opened my eyes and stared down at him. “I know.” My voice sounded breathy.
“Raina was like that.”
“She still is,” I said. “Make her go away.”
He licked the inside of my thigh, forcing me to spread my legs just by licking, nuzzling his mouth against my skin. The first touch of his tongue between my legs made me gasp.
He kissed me there like he’d kissed my mouth, all tongue and exploring. He licked me in long, sure strokes, then he found just the right spot and sucked. I could see his eyes staring up at me while he did it. There was a dark light in his eyes, something more primitive than we have words for. It had nothing to do with being a werewolf and everything to do with being a man. It was waves pulsing along my body. The sensations were overwhelming. It felt so good it was almost too much, a pleasure so great it was almost pain. He pulled me into his mouth until the warmth spread from my groin upward in a golden rush that left the world hazy and edged with white gauze like I was seeing through a mist. With the last drop of pleasure, I felt Raina leave. The munin was gone when he lowered me to the floor.
His mouth was glistening. He used the remains of his shirt to wipe his mouth. He said, “I could always go brush my teeth.”
I just shook my head. “Don’t you dare.” I held my arms out to him.
“Is she gone?” he asked.
I nodded. “Just me, just us.”
“Good,” he said. He moved over me and laid his naked body the length of mine. He was too tall for missionary position. I’d have suffocated against his chest. He propped himself up on his arms in a sort of push-up position. He slid inside me, and it was tight and wet and I could feel every inch of him working its way inside of me. When he was sheathed inside of me, he stared down at me. His eyes had gone that startling amber of a wolf. They were almost orange gold in the tan of his face.
He worked in and out, once, twice, three times, gently, as if making room. Then his hips caught the rhythmn. I slid my hands to his buttocks until I could cup them while he pushed himself inside me. I dug my fingernails into the smooth hardness of his flesh. He pumped faster, harder, still holding most of his weight on his arms and shoulders.
I raised my hips to meet his body. Without his body trapping me under him, I could move. A rhythm began between us, a wave of movement and heat and muscles moving together.
Something opened inside of me, inside of him. I felt the mark that bound us open like a door. What fell through that door was a warm, golden, rush of power. It spilled over me, into me. It raised every hair on my body as if it were an electric current.
Richard lifted me in his arms, still sheathed inside me. He half-carried me, half-flung me to the bed. He collapsed on top of me, and I was lost under the warmth of his skin and the weight of his chest. It was as if his power rode my skin; every thrust sent a line of warmth pouring inside of me. It was as if I were bathing in the golden warmth of his body inside and out. It grew in golden pulses with every thrust. The pulses turned to waves that made my body tighten around him.
He cried out, but didn’t come. He raised back up on his arms, only his hips and legs pinning me to the bed. His eyes were still amber, still not human, and I didn’t care. I watched his beast ride up through those alien eyes. I watched it look down at me from Richard’s face. I watched thoughts slide