“My blood?”
“Your body.”
Holding me in place against him, my legs locked around his waist, he spins from the door. Before I know it, my back is on the bed. The mattress sags under me and I’m pleasantly surprised to find it doesn’t smell of dust and age, but of honeysuckle and sandalwood.
He rounds to the foot of the bed, staring down at me. The moonlight strikes against the flawless line of his jaw. It illuminates his silver hair. He looks like a god on this mortal plane and I am his offering, ready to be devoured.
Ruvan raises a knee onto the bed. Slowly, like a beast on the prowl, he crawls atop me. His knees work their way between my thighs until my back arches, our hips meet, my breath hitches. At the same time, his hand glides up my side to end at my breast.
A moan escapes me, deep and throaty. Followed instantly by a blush. I raise a hand and bite my knuckles. Between my teeth I say, “I’m sorry. It’s that, I’ve never been touched like this before.”
He pauses, assessing me thoughtfully. Cupping my face, his thumb grazing my cheek. I await the verdict of whatever it is he is debating. But time drags on and he says nothing.
“Is that all right?” I finally ask.
“You are perfect,” Ruvan whispers, placing a gentle kiss on my lips.
“I’m sorry I don’t have much experience.” It never bothered me much until this moment. I never had a reason to feel insecure about never having lovers, or never kissing or touching, because that was what was expected of me. Everyone in my whole world knew it.
But Ruvan isn’t from my world. He’s a whole world unto himself. Where do I fit into it? Can I?
“I said you were perfect,” he says firmly. “The sorrow of other men will be my blessing and delight.” Ruvan bites my neck gently. He doesn’t break the skin. A tender kiss. A lick. A whimper escapes me in place of a moan. “Don’t hide it, Floriane. Don’t be ashamed. Moan, scream, weep so long as it is from pleasure. Let me hear you.”
“But the others—”
“They won’t hear. But I’d hardly care if they did.” He pulls away, hovering over me. One arm on either side of my face. His body pressed against mine. My world is him and him alone. “Tonight, forget about everything else, Floriane. All you should do is feel. Put all other thoughts aside and savor it.”
It’s easy to have my mind go blank when he slides back down my body, taking one of my breasts into his mouth over my shirt. Another moan flies from my lips, and another. His hands, his mouth. I am on fire.
I now see why finding a suitor was all some young women thought of. When this toe-curling pleasure is something that one can simply have at will when they have a partner… He shifts again and his palm lands at the crux of my desire. I inhale sharply and he almost purrs with delight.
His fingers move, generating delightful friction. Lightning races through me, arcing out into tiny tingles that pucker my skin into gooseflesh straining against the cool night air. My back arches, my chest tightens.
Ruvan seems to know exactly how much is too much, and when it is not enough. My eyes flutter closed, blocking out light and sound and thought. There’s only him, seemingly everywhere at once. Every sense is overwhelmed. My toes curl as the pressure builds, and builds, and builds.
I am about to break. This man will shatter me into a thousand pieces with his tongue and fingers alone. My breath catches as I try to give him warning but the crash is upon me before I can find words.
Shudders wrack my body and cries escape my lips. It’s over in moments that felt like glorious millennia. I seize from the waist down, muscles contracting, sending new waves of pleasure with every bit of pressure. Ruvan slows his movements, pulling me to him and removing his hand from between my thighs at the last moment. My face is pressed against the crook of his neck and I am both vulnerable and protected at once.
He presses his lips to my forehead. “Breathe, Floriane.”
“I…what…I…” Words have failed me. They’re gone, floating along the blissful sea that all other thoughts are scattered and adrift in.
“How do you feel?” he asks.
“Good.” It’s not enough. That one word isn’t enough to encompass the happy buzzing that has taken residence in my muscles. It’s not nearly enough to contain something so raw and real as what I am experiencing right now. But it will have to suffice.
He chuckles softly, as if he knows all those things. As though he can hear them in that one, not quite good enough, word. “Good,” Ruvan echoes.
Despite myself, I yawn. The tremors are settling and the bed is far more comfortable than I expected. My body grows heavy.
“You should rest, you’ve had a long day.”
“Here?” I murmur.
“Where else?”
Rather than arguing, I close my eyes. The settee in the main room is the furthest thing from my mind right now. Leaving is far too much effort.
