Home > The Shadow (The Florentine #2)(11)

The Shadow (The Florentine #2)(11)
Author: Sylvain Reynard

He loved her.

His cool hands scorched her skin, splaying fingers wide over her abdomen and bringing her backside into contact with what rose between his hips. She gave him her weight and he held firm, nipping and licking at her lips before enticing her to enter his mouth.

He entertained the intrusion for a moment or two, then, with a growl, he spun her around, pressing their chests together.

Raven looked up into blazing gray eyes.

“Are you certain?”

She nodded.

“I need the words, Raven. I need to know you want this.”

“I want you.”

He took her mouth, his tongue alternately penetrating and retreating in a sensual rhythm. She tilted her head, welcoming him, as the water continued to rain down. Hands roamed over slick skin as their lower bodies came into alignment. She touched his neck, his shoulders, his biceps, holding them tightly in an effort to remain upright.

William was not a tame lover. In his arms, she sensed his control, his desire, and the war that waged between the two. But he’d never harmed her and had always focused his attention on giving pleasure before taking it. Usually more than once.

“You’re a dream.” She sighed. “A dream of love I never thought I’d have.”

His eyes burned into hers. Without warning, he lifted her, tugging her thighs around his hips. He lowered his mouth to her breasts, tasting and teasing before sucking droplets of water from her eager flesh.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling him eager between her legs. He lifted her higher, hands beneath her backside, making sure he was correctly aligned.

“Breathe,” he commanded, his eyes boring into hers.

Here was the vampyre, proud and powerful, teetering on the edge of control. He bared his teeth as if by instinct and his chest rumbled.

“Just don’t break me,” she whispered, pushing a lock of blond hair from his forehead.

William’s expression grew even more fierce.

“I won’t break you. Whatever harm I bring to you, I vow to heal.”

He swallowed her reply with his kiss. Then with a single thrust, he entered her.

His kisses were as fierce as his movements as he pushed inside and withdrew, over and over. His grip on her backside tightened as he lifted and moved her in concert with his own motion.

Raven clung to him, her hand trailing to his lower back so she could urge him deeper. Not that he needed the encouragement.

Her breasts brushed against his chest, the friction teasing and arousing. She ignored the warm spray of the water, the scents of soap and William, and the nagging discomfort in her leg and ankle. Her focus was on feeling as he brought her swiftly to the brink of orgasm.

Before she could signal how close she was, she climaxed, her hand clutching his neck as she threw her head back. William continued his pace until she’d finished, his mouth dropping to her breasts, drawing one of them into his mouth.

When she opened her eyes, she found him staring at her hungrily.

“I have only begun,” he rasped. “Breathe.”

Chapter Seven

William stood from the bed, not bothering to cover himself. He’d spent two intense hours with Raven, who was now cocooned in a sheet, looking relaxed and happy.

In William’s antiquated mind, none of their activities constituted making love. Love was something that either existed or not; it wasn’t made and certainly not by the (admittedly exquisite) experience of joining bodies.

But he desired the curvaceous woman who watched him over the rim of her wineglass. He hungered for her, body and blood, with a yearning that bordered on desperate.

He also loved her.

He couldn’t help but compare her current state with how she’d been the night before—the tears, the cries, and then the punishing silence. Stefan’s assessment rang in his ears. While he was relieved she’d awoken in her right mind, he worried about how she would react when he told her about her stepfather. He was also anxious over her reaction to his use of mind control, even though he felt justified in using it. These anxieties fouled his mood.

“What are you doing?” Raven placed her wineglass next to a plate of food she’d lazily consumed after their coupling.

“Dressing,” he clipped, pulling on a pair of black jeans (sans underwear). He kept his back to her as he buttoned a black dress shirt, tucking it meticulously into his jeans.

“You’re finished with me.”

At her tone, William whirled around. Raven looked as if she’d been smacked.

“I will never be finished with you.” He gentled his voice as his eyes roved her body. “But your breasts are tender and so is the flesh between your legs. I must wait.”

Raven’s hand dropped to her lower abdomen. “You noticed?”

“Is that a genuine question? Or are you assuming I’d simply use you until you expired?”

She turned away, wincing at his anger.

“Forgive me.” He ground his teeth. “I should have explained that I’m getting dressed because I must feed.”

“You get irritable when you’re hungry. So noted.” Raven gave him a wry look. He sat next to her on the bed and pressed a repentant kiss to her lips.

“You could feed from me,” she suggested.

“I feel the need for something stronger.” His eyes darted to where her hand lay, resting in her lap. “I will feed from you again. Soon.”

She pointed vaguely to where his gaze had alighted.

“Absolutely.” The edge of his mouth turned up. “I think your swollen flesh would benefit from the coolness of my tongue. When the moment is right, I’ll taste the blood that flows through your thigh.”

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