channel. I ache to bury myself inside, but the wait will be so much more exquisite if she comes again.
Her head falls forward as her breaths begin to saw out of her, her chest rising and falling in such rapid succession I fear for a moment I am pushing her and the babies too far. But then she moans. A sound that reaches right down through the centre of me and strokes the hardened length of my shaft. I moan with her, my fangs scraping the side of her neck, a trickle of blood on my tongue almost making me lose my load.
A whimper, followed by a crescendo of sound that even through the soundproofed walls of our chamber I am sure my vampyres will hear. The dragon-within approves.
She is ours , he says. Let them hear her cries of pleasure .
I am lost. To her scream of release. To the glistening shine of her skin under the water. To the smell of her arousal. I pull her hips back, moving her from the stimulation of the shower jets and then palming my erection, I guide myself inside.
Oh, sweet heaven. A growl of possession fills the space we're in. My body expands with desire. Her grip so sure, so tight, so hot. I am lost for a moment, entirely unable to think or act or move. Just the heat of her. The feel of her. The sound of her begging for more. For a suspended second I savour it all, I wrap her around my senses, around my body, my heart, and then, as if I could delay this any longer, I let myself go.
I worship her with slow, purposeful thrusts, in and out, and out and in, over and over again. I could die the final death right now, and if not for the fact that she would die alongside me, I'd be a very happy man indeed.
I am home. This woman who can level a battlefield with one blast of her Light, lights my world and guides me home.
I must taste her. I must feel the silky slide of her velvet blood as it rolls over my tongue and down my throat. I need to drink her in. Through my fingers. Through my touch. Through the physical connection where my body meets hers in carnal delight.
Through my fangs in her throat, a penetration as basic as the motion of making love.
My tongue laps at the vein in her neck and she tips her head in a way that extends the line, invites my bite, pleads for me to take what I need from her body. If I am not careful I will take all of her. Not because I want to, but because she is my one weakness, as well as my greatest strength.
"Lucinda," I breathe, just before my fangs pierce her skin and the world explodes in delicious, mind altering sensations.
Her blood has changed again. From yesterday to now it has matured. Or maybe I have grown accustomed to this new taste, this hybrid I feel is part her and part the babies. The thought I am drinking from my children as I drink from my wife momentarily gives me pause. But the knowledge that they are ours , made up of both of us, reassures me that this is natural, this is necessary. A bond forming between us all even before they are born.
I give back equally. I give them love; unconditional, unequivocal, and true. I coat Lucinda and the babes she holds in her womb with blissful, pure love. My love for them. They are my world and they should know it.
My fangs withdraw, my tongue automatically sealing the wound and the instant the almost innocent-like connection with her blood has passed, the carnal connection with her body takes over.
I can't hold off the release that approaches with mind-numbing accuracy. My hands stroke over feverish flesh, my fingers find her nipples, and with a thrust of my hips I have her exactly where she needs to be. Teetering on the edge. Impaled by my arousal, stimulated by the jets of water at her apex, and slipping over the side of erotic bliss as my fingers squeeze, eliciting a cry of surprise, followed by a moan of carnal need from her lips.
Oh, good God she lights my fire. I pour myself into her, lost in the moment, floating on clouds of pure ecstasy, as she joins me under the soft spray of the shower, our moans and whimpers
Her head falls forward as her breaths begin to saw out of her, her chest rising and falling in such rapid succession I fear for a moment I am pushing her and the babies too far. But then she moans. A sound that reaches right down through the centre of me and strokes the hardened length of my shaft. I moan with her, my fangs scraping the side of her neck, a trickle of blood on my tongue almost making me lose my load.
A whimper, followed by a crescendo of sound that even through the soundproofed walls of our chamber I am sure my vampyres will hear. The dragon-within approves.
She is ours , he says. Let them hear her cries of pleasure .
I am lost. To her scream of release. To the glistening shine of her skin under the water. To the smell of her arousal. I pull her hips back, moving her from the stimulation of the shower jets and then palming my erection, I guide myself inside.
Oh, sweet heaven. A growl of possession fills the space we're in. My body expands with desire. Her grip so sure, so tight, so hot. I am lost for a moment, entirely unable to think or act or move. Just the heat of her. The feel of her. The sound of her begging for more. For a suspended second I savour it all, I wrap her around my senses, around my body, my heart, and then, as if I could delay this any longer, I let myself go.
I worship her with slow, purposeful thrusts, in and out, and out and in, over and over again. I could die the final death right now, and if not for the fact that she would die alongside me, I'd be a very happy man indeed.
I am home. This woman who can level a battlefield with one blast of her Light, lights my world and guides me home.
I must taste her. I must feel the silky slide of her velvet blood as it rolls over my tongue and down my throat. I need to drink her in. Through my fingers. Through my touch. Through the physical connection where my body meets hers in carnal delight.
Through my fangs in her throat, a penetration as basic as the motion of making love.
My tongue laps at the vein in her neck and she tips her head in a way that extends the line, invites my bite, pleads for me to take what I need from her body. If I am not careful I will take all of her. Not because I want to, but because she is my one weakness, as well as my greatest strength.
"Lucinda," I breathe, just before my fangs pierce her skin and the world explodes in delicious, mind altering sensations.
Her blood has changed again. From yesterday to now it has matured. Or maybe I have grown accustomed to this new taste, this hybrid I feel is part her and part the babies. The thought I am drinking from my children as I drink from my wife momentarily gives me pause. But the knowledge that they are ours , made up of both of us, reassures me that this is natural, this is necessary. A bond forming between us all even before they are born.
I give back equally. I give them love; unconditional, unequivocal, and true. I coat Lucinda and the babes she holds in her womb with blissful, pure love. My love for them. They are my world and they should know it.
My fangs withdraw, my tongue automatically sealing the wound and the instant the almost innocent-like connection with her blood has passed, the carnal connection with her body takes over.
I can't hold off the release that approaches with mind-numbing accuracy. My hands stroke over feverish flesh, my fingers find her nipples, and with a thrust of my hips I have her exactly where she needs to be. Teetering on the edge. Impaled by my arousal, stimulated by the jets of water at her apex, and slipping over the side of erotic bliss as my fingers squeeze, eliciting a cry of surprise, followed by a moan of carnal need from her lips.
Oh, good God she lights my fire. I pour myself into her, lost in the moment, floating on clouds of pure ecstasy, as she joins me under the soft spray of the shower, our moans and whimpers
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