But I also know how to make it even more worth the wait.
Winnie rolls her head to the side, exposing the exquisite curve of her neck and that tempting vein just above her collarbone. But I ignore it, licking a trail of blood from her breast, chasing it with little nips, careful not to break her skin with my fangsjust yet. My fingers work open the buttons of her shirt as I continue my descent down her stomach.
“Aren’t you going to bite my neck?” she asks, goosebumps prickling her skin. “Don’t you want to?”
She actually sounds hurt, as if I’m rejecting her. As if I could ever deny her.
“Oh, Winnie, the things I want where you’re concerned would terrify you. I have imagined this night in such exquisite detail that I half wonder if I’ve dreamed you into being. So yes, I will bite you, but I wish to savour you like a fine wine, and that means you’re going to have to be a good girl and wait.”
I bow my head and continue my trail down her stomach, kissing the bare skin where her trousers are belted around her perfect waist.
“I … I don’t understand. I thought that …” Her voice catches as I unhook her leather belt and slowly pull her trousers over her voluptuous hips, torturing myself with the slow reveal of her body. Her petals are bare to me, and when the scent of her arousal fills the air, I let out another low growl of satisfaction.
“No panties, Winnie?”
“No,” she manages to gulp.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” I whisper as I slowly run my tongue down the centre of her.
“Too— Oh! Too late, vampire.”
Her joke falls limp from her lips, replaced by another gasp as I dip my tongue against her, tasting the sweetness of her juices. How is it that I can no longer taste food and yet she is the finest feast?
I have to keep my fangs from piercing her delicate skin. To bite her here, on her first time, would be cruel. But now that I taste her, I wonder if perhaps I have that kind of cruelty in me.
Winnie whimpers as her thighs tremble around me.
I want to devour every part of her, but I take my time, licking just the sides of her mound then the softest swipe against her centre.
“Alaric, please,” she begs, bucking her hips, pushing herselfcloser to my lips.
“Please what,Bonne VivanteWinifred?” I trail my finger down her wet entrance, prolonging the exquisite torture.
“Please let me come,” she pants.
“No, I don’t think so.” I run the tip of my finger around her entrance again, dragging it out.
Her eyes flutter closed as she leans her head back. “This is torture.”
“Torture, is it? Do you mean, in the same way you have tortured me since you arrived, strutting around my castle with your exquisite scent, driving me to such agonising hunger that I barely recognise myself? That kind of torture?”
“Y-y-yes …”
I smile as I blow a small breath just over her entrance.
Winnie’s hands go to my head, gripping the tendrils of my hair, trying in vain to push me down.
But I don’t give in that easy.
“Such a greedy little thing,” I tsk.
In a movement too quick for her to register, I grip her wrists, pinning them above her head with one hand. I lean her to the side, her hips at an angle so I can still hold her down while having access to her beautiful pussy.
She wriggles her hands against mine, trying to free herself, but I have five hundred years of supernatural strength and experience against her.
Laughing, I breathe against her mound. “Still so greedy.”
“Please, Alaric, please.”
