Page 55 of ColdIron
Shit, I was so inexperienced that it was agonizing.
He undressed my top before peeling the boxers down my legs, his fingers skimming the backs of my thighs, the curve of my calves, the arches of my feet. Then all my clothes were gone, and cool air met the heat between my legs.
I was bare in front of the vampire prince.
He went still.
His gaze roamed over me before dropping to the valley between my thighs. I watched his expression shift—hunger reshaping into reverence. I was utterly bare down there, all smooth, flushed pink and hairless. Born that way. I’d never thought about it, never had a reason to. But the way he stared made the blood surge to the surface of my skin.
Self-consciousness hit me like a wave. I tried to close my legs. His hands caught my knees, gentle but unyielding.
“Perfection,” he whispered. “So beautiful, Max.”
He lowered his head.
The first stroke of his tongue parted my slit, and every sensation I’d ever known—pain, cold, hunger, exhaustion, fear—was annihilated in a single instant. Pleasure doesn’t cover it. This was a fucking wildfire. It blazed up from the point of contact, spread through my pelvis, licked along my spine, and detonated behind my eyes in a burst of white heat.
Shit.
I gasped. My hips bucked off the chaise. My hands flew to the leather and dug in hard enough to leave nail marks.
He didn’t stop.
His tongue worked in slow, deliberate strokes—flat and wide, tracing my shivering, plump folds to circle the swollen bud. My thighs trembled against his shoulders. My breath came in ragged pulls.
“Nikolai, please—” His name tore from my throat before I could cage it.
He groaned against me, and the vibration shot through my core. His hands slid beneath my thighs, tilting my hips, opening me wider, angling me so his mouth could reach deeper. His tongue pushed inside me—once, twice—slick and impossibly skilled, then withdrew to lap at my clit with a pressure that had my spine bowing off the leather.
“You taste like a dream,Eirath,” he murmured against my aching flesh, his breath ragged. “Nothing even comes close.”
He was calling me his angel of twilight and little ruin again, and I had no idea how I even understood the old tongue.
My fingers threaded into his silky ash-blond hair and gripped. He made a guttural sound against me and doubled his effort.
The pressure built like a rising tide behind a dam. Every stroke compounded the previous ones. Every flick of his tongue wound the coil in my belly tighter, tighter, until the tension became unbearable. I couldn’t tell if I was drowning or flying. My body arched into a bow and held?—
And broke.
The orgasm crashed through me, starting from my core, radiating outward, ripping a cry from me that didn’t sound like a human. My vision whited out. My fingers locked in his hair. Every muscle in my body seized and released in rolling waves that kept coming, cresting, shattering against the shore of my consciousness until I thought I’d shatter with them.
I’d never known.
I’d never known a body could do this. Could feel this pleasure and survive.
Before the last wave had fully crested, his fangs pierced the soft skin of my inner thigh.
I cried out—startled. The sting lasted half a heartbeat before euphoria flooded in to replace it. This wasn’t the euphoria of the orgasm. This was chemical—a warm, golden tide coursing through my bloodstream. It sank into my bones and turned them to honey. It reached into my mind and told every alarm, every defense, every survival instinct to stand down.
I’d sworn I’d keep my head clear. Keep my guard up.
I was wrong.
I was more vulnerable than I’d ever been. If the vampire drained me dry in this moment, I wouldn’t fight. I’d open my mouth and say,Please.
And then even that thought vanished, because his thumb found my clit again, starting with a gentle circle first, then building with the rhythm of his feeding. He drank from me in measured pulls, his lips hot against my thigh, his thumb working me in time with each draw. Pleasure braided with pleasure—the chemical bliss of his bite and his touch weaving together into a crescendo.
“Oh god—” My voice cracked. My hips rocked against his hand, chasing the pressure, unable to stop. “Nikolai, I can’t—I’m going to?—”
