Demon Moon

forcing hers wide. “Once I’d failed in my intention to fuck you senseless, I intended to allow you the lead. But you proved too proficient. I shouldn’t have given you time to think.” Unzipping her boots, he tugged them off and threw them to the side of the bed. Hooked his fingers under lace and stripped her panties down her legs. “And I’ll not allow you weapons such as these.”
    She caught her tongue lightly between her teeth, and her hands rose to cup her breasts.
    Colin glanced up, froze. “Bloody hell. There’s no help for it then. Death comes.”
    Before she could fathom his intention, he covered her body with his and lifted her leg over his hip, entering her in a long, powerful stroke. Her breath ripped from her lungs. Oh, god. She clutched at his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin.
    “Savi, Savi,” he chanted between kisses to her face, her lips. His hands were buried in her hair. “Did I hurt you? Was it too hard?”
    She shook her head, unable to speak. Not hurt, but she felt like sobbing with the pleasure of it. Her inner thigh slid over his hip as she wound her left leg across his back, lodging him farther inside. A wordless cry for more escaped her.
    “Hold on, love. Oh, Christ ,” he groaned as he slowly withdrew. She panted against his neck, her slick heat clinging along his length. Friction, though she was so wet she could hear it, too. “Hold on.”
    Not wait , she realized, but grab on to him and don’t let go . He pushed back in. So deep. So thick. A perfect fit. No chance of letting him go. She twined her arms around his neck, felt the trembling in his elbows planted next to her shoulders, in his palms cradling the back of her head. Fighting for control. Her ankles locked together at the base of his spine.
    She clamped her teeth on his throat.
    He tensed, a rough growl tearing from his chest before he reared back, pulling her up with him. For an instant, she straddled him as he knelt on the bed, her weight resting almost wholly over his cock, and she took him in, deeper, wider. Pain in that full stretch, just under her womb, just a little.
    Just enough.
    He slammed her back down into the pillows, shoving hard, but she was already coming, unclenching her teeth as she cried out against his skin. Again as he thrust, dragging out the orgasm with each long stroke, faster as she reached another peak. His mouth found hers, and she helplessly sucked and bit at his tongue, his lips, taking all of him she could get inside her, and still he filled her, over and over.
    She let him go, too shattered to hold on, but he followed and linked his hands with hers. And pushed her over again.



CHAPTER 19

    S——met with me at the port in Livorno; he was excited, eager for the transformation…as he approached all things. As you may have heard, it did not end well. A storm struck us—but it was already too late for S——. More when I return to Beaumont Court. It may be some time; I’ve not yet the stomach for open stretches of water. And if I never swim again, it will be too soon .
    —Colin to Ramsdell, 1822

    “Colin?”
    “I’m here,” he said, smiling against her throat. Savi sprawled bonelessly atop him, a leg on each side of his abdomen, her feet tucked beneath the outside of his thighs. He’d been counting the minutes; it hadn’t taken as long as he’d thought it would.
    “You didn’t…?”
    “No, love. You swooned.” He didn’t try to conceal the triumphant amusement in his tone.
    “No,” she said, her voice pensive. “I don’t think I did. Evidence suggests I was fucked senseless. You are a gentleman, after all. Despite your intentions, you gave a lady what she wanted.”
    He laughed softly. “At that moment, it was my only desire, as well.” He’d taste her soon enough. He ran his palms over her back, down to the swell of her small bottom, then swept back up. Smooth, naked skin, damp with perspiration.
    Quickly cooling perspiration.
    Bloody hell. Holding her against his chest, he rolled, kicked at the blankets. Found the edge and yanked it up over them. She sighed, wriggling in closer to his side. Her thigh draped over his, rubbed up and down against the wool of his trousers.
    “Are you still in your pants?”
    “Yes. And though I am pleased I exhibited unmatched sartorial excellence whilst fucking you senseless, they have since rumpled to a mortifying degree. Thus I resort to a cover-up.”
    “Unbelievable. The only cover-up here is your cheap ass.