“You make me wish desperately for the use of my hands,” he rasped.
“What would you do with them?”
“Hold your ass still before it causes too much trouble.”
Oh my. He definitely didn’t sound like a prince anymore—and she minded it far less than she could have imagined. “What trouble is it causing?”
“I crave my mate in more ways than one, love,” Jonas said, elevating his hips along with Ginny, who could only grasp his shoulders and whimper. “And I’ve craved constantly for days, though I’d swear it was decades.”
Their mouths surged together in a kiss that was at once rough and reverent. Being positioned on Jonas’s lap put their mouths level and they couldn’t get close enough. He transferred low growls into her mouth, licking them away with his tongue, his lips demanding and seductive and intuitive. By the time he broke away and ordered Ginny to breathe, she was dizzy and aroused. So aroused. Her hands stroked up and down his chest in worship, the word please falling from her swollen lips over and over and over.
Though she begged for Jonas to give her what they both needed, she still gasped in shock when he fisted her hair tightly, his expression nothing short of predatory. Nothing short of electric and thrilling.
He leaned down and licked the side of her neck, long and slow. “Mine,” he breathed, planting a hot, open-mouthed kiss over her pulse. “Inevitably, undeniably mine. May God help us all.”
Ginny braced herself for pain—and she got it. The shocking sting made her body jolt and twist, but a flood of numbing warmth ensued so quickly afterward, she stilled. As if on command. Stilled and felt the sharp fangs sinking into her. Heard Jonas’s muffled exclamation against her skin, followed by an exultant groan.
She’d been caught.
Possessed.
She belonged right there, in his lap, locked to his body and accepting his bite, incapable of moving. Even if she could have, she wouldn’t. That truth sang in her blood as Jonas took it into his mouth greedily, the flesh between his legs rising further to meet her. Needing her.
Ginny’s thighs started to tremble around his hips and she longed to rub herself shamelessly on his erection. Need to move. Need to move. Heat inundated her, making her skin feel flushed, her femininity restless. If she could just twist a little, she could rub her nipples against his chest and maybe get some relief, because it seemed to be so near.
So near.
Her thoughts started to jumble and her view of the wall winked in and out. Too much? Was Jonas taking too much blood? Her power of speech was absent, so she couldn’t warn him. On some level, she even loathed to stop him. He was insatiable for the taste of her, still groaning with as much satisfaction as he had in the first few seconds, his mouth suctioned to her neck like it might disappear. And now it had been…how long had they been…doing this…?
Jonas tore himself away from Ginny with obvious difficulty, running his glittering, jewel tone gaze over her face, looking like a man who’d sold his soul to the devil and wouldn’t take it back for anything in the world. His fangs were still out and he licked them now, a shuddering wracking him. “My God is your sustenance sweet.” He laid kisses on her hairline, her cheeks, ending with a hard pull of her mouth. “Tell me you’re okay, love. Tell me I didn’t go too far. Ginny.”
“I’m fine.” She tunneled her fingers into his hair. “I’m fine.”
He pressed their foreheads together. “If you knew…if you only knew what your taste does to me. You’re a feast after a famine.” He shook his head slowly and whispered, “Thank you.”
His adoring tone did nothing to dispel the hunger he’d coaxed. Not at all. She was finally able to move and her body sprang into action, trying to make up for the time she’d been immobile. Her fingertips rode up his hard body, nails digging into his shoulders, her hips starting a slow buck she didn’t seem in control of. This wasn’t mere desire, there was something about the bite that made every sensation fuller, made her limbs languid and light.
“Good,” he said thickly in her ear. “Take what you need from me now. If my hands weren’t chained, I’d lay you down and give it to you so fucking good.”
Since when did epithets turn her on? Maybe since they were delivered in a throaty growl and every tweak of her hips seemed to make him…swell. Harden. Was she really doing this? Seeking relief from Jonas came naturally, even though she’d never been there in her life. Not with him or anyone else. And yet, her body knew exactly where she needed to go and urged her to ride, get there, grind, get there.
“You came in here so beautiful and brave,” he gritted, leaning back to watch the point where their lower bodies were creating the most frantic friction, cotton panties moving on top of strained denim. “Hiked up your little skirt for me and offered me your gorgeous neck, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” she sobbed.
“My bite made you wet,” he enunciated. “Didn’t it?”
She nodded jerkily and quickened her pace, sensing the end of her frustration looming. Finally. Finally.
In response to her silent confession, Jonas’s head fell back on a moan. “Might be time to get some mirrors. I’d give anything to watch your tight backside pumping all over my lap right now.”
A volcano of bliss erupted inside of her, trapping a gasp in her throat. His words stabbed at her composure like little daggers and she bore down, prolonging the rush of relief by grinding up and back on his thickness. “Oh Lord, oh Lord, oh Lord,” she whimpered, raking her nails down his back. “It feels so good.”
“Remember that feeling,” he said, pressing his bared teeth to her cheek. “You only get it from your mate. Ever.”
His satisfaction purred in her ear, but she could still feel that hard part of Jonas prodding her panties—and it was pure instinct that made Ginny crawl backward and kneel between his outstretched legs, though her own were still shaking. She reached for the zipper of his jeans and paused, not only at his sharp curse, but because she was overcome by the sight of him.
Jonas Cantrell sprawled out in nothing but jeans and permanently flexed muscles, arms suspended in the air in chains, his midnight hair in a mess from her fingers? He might have been God’s gift to women if he wasn’t looking at Ginny with total and utter worship. The kind that let her know on purpose that it would only ever be her. And she was dead certain she looked back at him in the same manner. Their pure idolization went both ways.
His worshipful attention gave Ginny confidence, made her feel sexy. Maybe for the first time in her entire life. Jonas might have made her feel wanted like hell before, but this was different. She’d just worked out an orgasm on his lap after he’d drunk her blood.
Boundaries? What boundaries?
Before the heady freedom could slide away, Ginny reached down and caught the hem of her tank top, drawing it over her head, leaving herself clad in nothing but a hiked up skirt, thong and a lacy bra.
“Sweet Jesus,” he whispered. “You’re an angel.”
Her fingers skated up his denim clad thighs and lowered the zipper of his jeans. The words she wanted to say bounced around in her throat until she overcome her final vestige of shyness. “I’m your angel.”