I rise on my toes and press my lips against his. His taste is a heady elixir.
Vane returns my kiss with a tenderness that makes my soul sing. The connection between us resonates with a sense of belonging, a home I’ve never known. In this moment, the Nest, and everything in it, ceases to matter.
I slide both arms around his neck, pulling him closer. I need to fuse his flesh with mine. Vane’s hard body presses against me, eliciting a groan from my lips. He drops the umbrella, freeing his hands to explore my face. His fingers thread through my wet hair before sliding down my body. In one fluid motion, he lifts me. I wrap my legs around his waist, desperate to be as close to him as possible. Vane’s fangs graze the sensitive skin of my neck, sending shivers of pleasure raining over me. I arch into his touch, every nerve ending in my body awakening at his caress in a silent plea for more.
Our lips collide in a fury of tongues. The cemetery fades into nothingness. A deep growl from Vane’s chest is my only warning before he peels off my leather jacket. I rip off my shirt, exposingmy black bra, skin, and skirt to the elements and his blown-out gaze.
We collide, a tangle of limbs and desperate need. Hands roam, mapping familiar landscapes, seeking solace and reassurance. The world outside mirrors the storm within, ice pellets stinging my skin as the sky descends into a brooding black.
Vane lowers me into the dirt, the cold mud a welcome relief from the burning heat between my thighs. He settles between them, his weight a welcome pressure. My hands work feverishly, ripping his coat away, and the gold buttons from his shirt. A possessive sound escapes my throat at the sight of his sculpted torso. Each plane, each defined muscle, is a masterpiece I yearn to explore with my hands and tongue, devour and memorize.
Vane’s hand slides between my legs, cupping me, sending shockwaves of pleasure radiating through my center. My spine arches, a helpless offering. I shudder, aware of my wetness, the slick heat mingling with the rain that sheens my skin, turning me into a living, breathing invitation.
“I know you love me, but I want you to fuck me like you hate me,” Vane commands, his voice low and husky. I gasp, a broken sound torn from my throat as his fingers expertly play me like a finely tuned instrument responding to his every touch. My eyes fly open as he withdraws. His impatient fingers find the flimsy barrier of my underwear. He rips them away with a single, sharp tug, discarding them into the mud and rain. The sound of his zipper follows. His pants get caught around his ankles. A moment later, his crown probes my entrance. I writhe as his lips graze my earlobe. “I’m about to defile you in a cemetery,” Vane whispers. “Wherearemy manners?”
I gasp, pushing my hips into his, inviting more than just a fraction of him inside me. It’s enough to unleash the beast lurking beneath Vane’s polished surface. He buries himself tothe hilt. I scream at the intrusion. But he gives me no time to adjust, setting a brutal pace as he drives into me again and again.
“I . . . missed . . . you,” Vane admits between thrusts. “Each day since I last had you, I imagined it was you instead of my hand.”
Vane’s words coat my thighs with more arousal. “I thought of you, too,” I confess, my throaty voice barely recognizable. “Each time I was alone . . . touching . . . mm . . . myself.”
“I know,” he growls, and I stiffen. “I could—” He adjusts his position. We groan. “Feel your desire as your sire.”
When his touch detonates that spot, molten heat floods me. I buck, desperate to take him deeper, to be stretched, molded around him. His relentless tempo fuels the fire until my orgasm crests. His fangs scrape my neck, a sharp, exquisite bite, and a litany of curses rips from my throat, loud enough to wake the dead.
Vane draws back to look me in the eye. “Look at me, Desiree.”
Ecstasy has me in its clutches, but I pry my eyes open. “Keep your eyes on me when you come.”
“Oh gods.” My legs shake uncontrollably, my entire body quaking beneath him. My moans splinter apart, fractured by the overwhelming pleasure that overtakes me. Vane smiles, a predatory gleam in his eyes, as he watches me break before him, reveling in my surrender.
As the tremors of my orgasm subside, Vane continues to drive into me, a savage, possessive force that echoes our hate-filled sparring matches. He finally stills as he empties himself inside me, his forehead pressed against mine, our breaths mingling in the damp air. The rain hasn’t stopped, drumming against the branches twisting above us, but the world feels washed clean, renewed.
My hands caress the tight, rippling muscles of his back. “That was perfect.”
He kisses me. “You are perfect.”
We stay locked together, lost in the afterglow. Kissing, touching, and tracing the lines of each other’s bodies as if we had all the time in the world. And then, with a sudden, breathtaking clarity, it hits me: wedo.
“Get dressed,” I say, and Vane quirks a dark eyebrow. “We are leaving the city.”
Vane studies me as if I am a different person. “Really?”
I kiss him again, slow and deep. “Let’s see the world,” I whisper against his lips.
Vane unsheathes himself. I rise on my wobbly feet to retrieve my ruined jacket. Dirty and the evidence of our cemetery tryst dirty my thighs. “On second thought, let’s make a pit stop at the loft first.”
Vane laughs. “Only if we can use the empty apartment while there.”
I bite my lip. “Thank you for coming back,” I say.
Vane kisses me and my entire body sings. Which direction is up? He’s turned my world upside down. “I’m the one who is thankful, Desiree. That after everything, you are giving me a second chance.”
I place a hand on my hip. “Who says I am? Maybe I’m just using you for sex.”
Vane gives me a purely carnal look. I yelp before sprinting through the cemetery toward the loft with him chasing me.
Chiara Dunn’sresearch is the answer to ending this war. We need to move quickly now that the sun has almost set. I reach to grab Wilder’s arm and tell him this, but he has turned away from me. Before I can blink, he’s marching to Bennett, who is cowering, cornered by Brigid in the back of the bedroom, his wide eyes darting to the door.
