Angel Laird, Vampire Wife (The Kilburn Vampires) by deMello Suz

Author:deMello, Suz [deMello, Suz]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2012-10-11T21:00:00+00:00

He parted her thighs with eager hands before leaning in to look, truly look, at his Isobel’s womanhood.

First he gazed at her white, lustrous thighs, pale and gleaming as pearls. He stroked her, delighting in the delicate skin overlaying muscles developed from her active pursuits. She had a horsewoman’s legs, strong and beautiful. She was glorious.

He pulled out the ribbon securing his hair and swung his head forward, toward her cunny, allowing his hair to stroke her tender flesh.

She quivered, rippling as though she were still water and he the wind caressing her. He closed his eyes, savoring the experience, then rubbed his face against her smooth, cool skin, so unlike that of any woman he’d known. The French whores he’d used had been hot and sweaty, with a pungency he realized was the result of an aversion to bathing.

Not so his Isobel. The dark bed of curls at the junction of her lovely thighs was redolent with her distinctive aroma. A woman’s aroma, musky and enticing, but with overtones of the wind and the sky and the freshness of flowers. Heaven had to smell like Isobel; otherwise, after death he’d inhabit hell.

He bent his head, still holding her knees apart, and drew a deep breath.

He could get drunk just breathing her scent. He closed his eyes, focusing, then rubbed his face against her. He was moaning and so was she.

He raised his head. “Shh.”

“Oh.” Her dark eyes rounded.

He nodded with a slight frown. “Yes. Until we are wed, we must be very quiet. Very subtle.”

She gave a little chuckle. “I am not known for subtlety, Edgar.”

He stroked her thigh from the knee toward her sweet cunny. “I know, my darling, but even your father’s tolerance has limits. I should not be abusing his trust and his friendship.” He pulled away.

“You promised!”

He sighed. “I know, and I will fulfill my promise.” He bent his head again and this time he resolved that he would not stop. He touched his tongue onto her, running the tip of it around the tip of her, circling the rosy pink dot of flesh that was the center of her desire.

“Oh, Edgar.”

“Hmm?”

“I never thought—”

“Don’t think.” He bent his head to his sweet task again, and this time fulfilled his resolution. He didn’t stop until she was gasping and pressing her hand against her mouth in a vain attempt to stifle her noisy pleasure. He had her opened wide with his hands while his mouth was busy sucking and slurping her virgin juices. Nothing was tastier, and when she collapsed back upon her pillows, he slipped his finger into her. Her tight channel seized him, strong as a fist and twenty times as active, pulling and loosening with the rhythm of the sea.

He couldn’t help imagining how she’d feel clenched around his tool, and jerked away to open his breeches before he released into them. Losing control like that would be intolerable.

The cool air calmed him, and he looked down at his lover.

Isobel’s normally pale cheeks were flushed.

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