Page 22 of Night Fall
Mya thought she would know what to expect when Erik bit her, but she was unprepared for the sudden, overwhelming surge of pleasure. The small tinge of pain only added to it, and she felt as if she were flying. With each gulp of blood he swallowed, with each brush against her, he sent her higher and higher.
Erik wrapped his hand around her throat and squeezed. The sensation exhilarated her, and she became needy, desperate for the next taste of her high. Mya tore at his tunic, needing to feel his skin, and when she did she clawed at his back. He moaned, and the sound turned her feral, animalistic. Their movements changed, tinges of violence in their pumping as they ground harder, faster.
Then Erik pulled back, and the sight of his lips coated in her blood made her shiver.
He snaked his hand into her hair and pulled her to him until they were only a breath apart. His eyes blazed into hers, glowing silver and tinged with red at the edges, captivating and magnificent.
Her breath caught in her lungs, and she felt as though she were soaring through the cloud. Suddenly she feared falling, so overwhelmed by pleasure and the tears that began to blur her vision. She clung to him, and he grabbed hold of her, squeezing her behind.
“Erik, it-it is so … so much. I—” She moaned, but when he rubbed along the spot once more, she cried his name, all other words forgotten.
“Do not be scared, fagr skjaldmær min. This is exactly how it should be. Succumb to it. Break for me.”
His fingers pressed into her skin as he grasped her tightly, as if he were both commanding her and traveling along this new world with her. Mya knew she was not alone, that Erik could still protect her and keep her safe even in something she did not know.
Then he whispered, “I am right here with you.”
At his words she shattered into a million pieces. Her back arched of its own accord, and her legs tightened around his hips while she bucked and thrashed and ground against him, ascending to some higher plane while begging for more. He was the only thing she knew, her anchor, her savior and torturer, and she screamed his name as the feeling flew through her body.
“So glorious,” he said, his voice so incredibly deep as he moaned for her. “Your release is such perfection, fagr skjaldmær min. I must see it again.”
The praise lit a new fire in her, and even though she could barely breathe, she watched him, took in his furrowed brow, the tension on his face, the way he seemed to be losing all control. The elation, the desire, the need to have him pumping through her veins took over and her canines extended.
“Bite me,” he ordered, and she did.
The first taste of him was like the legends of ambrosia—pure goodness, pure sin—and the way he threw his head back and surrendered to her gave her a type of power that became an instant addiction.
He cradled her head to his shoulder as she took long, deep gulps, sucking and drinking him in. She was lost in the taste, the feel of him, the sounds that poured from within his throat.
He leaned forward, and Mya adjusted, planting her feet on the bed, spreading her legs open wider, wantonly. The position helped her spread her lips and she moved with Erik, dragging herself against his erection. He was so hard, so long and thick for her that even through the material of their clothes the tip of him rubbed along her opening.
Mya placed her hands on his thighs to lean back and offer herself to him in that way, in any way, in every way, but Erik pushed her onto her back, so she wrapped her arms around him, and together they fell back onto the bed. She pulled away from his shoulder and met the crazed look in his eyes with one of her own.
There was no room for words when Erik captured her lips. She squeezed the back of his neck, his shoulders, while he pulled and bunched the material of the tunic above her waist. Then he pressed himself against her once more, and Mya arched her back in response. Her hips came off the bed only to be pressed back down by his own. He weighed her down with his body, and she savored the feel of him.
Their kiss was a battlefield filled with gasps and moans. Erik grabbed both of her wrists and pinned them above her head, and Mya grabbed hold of anything that she could, his thumb, his index finger, squeezing them as he continued to grind against her.
They moved so franticly that the bed rocked back and forth against the wall. Erik spread her legs wider, pushing against her harder, his erection slipping between her folds. The feel of him behind the material drove her wild.
“You are so wet for me,” he growled.
“Yes,” she hissed, lifting her hips against his again.
He grabbed her, tilted her body to fit his in the way he wanted, and continued to rock against her. “Break for me again, fagr skjaldmær min. Break with me. Let me see you in ecstasy.”
Her eyes closed as pleasure took over. It traveled from her head down to her toes, and she curled them as wave after wave hit her. The waves came closer and closer together, her mind in the throes of ecstasy as a large crescendo flowed through her body. She exploded, crying out, and Erik moved once, twice, before he joined her with his own roar of pleasure.
EIGHT
Mya and Erik returned home with blissful smiles on their faces, until they found Gregori waiting for them. Gregori’s eyes roamed over her, noting the lack of her dress and how it had been replaced by Erik’s tunic. Judging by his expression, he would give them approximately one minute to formulate an explanation or else he would pummel Erik, whether he was an older and thus more powerful vampire or not.
Together they constructed a lie, explaining that her dress had been ruined on her way to the cabin, and Mya sent Erik on his way. She and Gregori had made a deal after all, and the idea of not keeping her promise––especially after lying to him––filled her with guilt. He deserved better.
Telling her brother of her assault was both embarrassing and relieving. He did not judge her or criticize her or think she was weak. Rather, he understood, hugged her, and even through bared teeth he spoke the words that she did not realize she needed to hear.
“I am so proud of you.”
Mya had always looked up to her brother, and it seemed she still sought his approval after all these years.
