Must Love Fangs ml-3

by Jessica Sims

  I nodded jerkily, unable to stop running my hands over his body, reassuring myself that he was okay. My Josh. I’d nearly lost him. The tears kept spilling forth and I couldn’t seem to stop them. A muffled, choked gasp escaped my throat. “I thought . . . I thought you . . . ”

  “I’m here, baby,” he said, pressing a kiss to my temple. “I wouldn’t leave you.”

  I clung to him, needing to hear him right now. To touch him. “I love you,” I whispered.

  A figure loomed in the doorway, blotting out the light again. “Josh, we need to talk,” Beau began. “This situation—”

  “Leave us!” Josh said, leaping from the bed and snarling protectively, standing over me.

  I flinched backward, staring at him in surprise. That fierce, furious response was so unlike him.

  Beau raised his hands in a peacemaking gesture. “Before you do anything crazy—”

  “I said leave us,” Josh said in a dangerous voice. “Now.” He took a menacing step toward the door.

  Bewildered, I stared at them. What was going on? Josh was acting like Beau had trespassed or something. As I sat frozen in the bed, Beau nodded and walked away. He called something too low for me to hear, and then it was lost as Josh slammed the door shut.

  He turned back to me, his eyes gleaming green with his cat.

  “Are you okay?” I whispered, wiping at my cheeks.

  He moved back to me in the bed, his gaze possessive as he looked over me. “Did he hurt you? Tell me.”

  I shook my head slowly.

  Josh exhaled sharply, and his big shoulders sagged with relief. He tugged me close, and I went gladly into his arms again.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, unable to keep from crying. “I should have listened to you. I should have waited. I just—”

  “It’s okay, baby. You’re just scared.” He stroked my hair, holding me.

  Scared? I was terrified of dying. But now there was something that frightened me even more—the thought of losing Josh. “I shouldn’t have gone.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have. But I understand it.”

  Fresh tears brimmed. Of course he did. He’d been with me, every step of the way.

  “I was just so close,” I said softly. “I . . . was afraid to wait. The hallucinations are getting worse. It’s like right before my mother had to go into the hospital—”

  He pressed a kiss to my forehead, his fingers wiping away my tears. “You should have told me.”

  “I didn’t want to acknowledge it,” I confessed. “Because if I do, that means I accept that the end is inevitable. But . . . ” My breath shuddered. “I need to face it. I’m going to die.”

  There. I’d said it.

  “No,” he growled low in his throat. “You’re not.”

  I shook my head. “It’s too late, Josh. And it wasn’t even a good idea. I don’t want to be with any vampire.” I laid my cheek against his shoulder, feeling exhausted with the weight of it all. “I just want you.”

  “You’re not going to die,” he stated, his voice rough with emotion. He tilted my chin back and stared into my eyes, his green-glinting ones inhuman in the moonlight. “Do you trust me?”

  There was a feral growl in his voice.

  Goose bumps raised on my skin. “Josh, what do you—”

  “Do you trust me?” The question was harder, flatter.

  And I realized what he was asking.

  I thought of the tiger girl. I thought of Greenland. I thought of Josh and his big family, and the way he laughed and joked with his brothers. He would lose all of that if he went into exile with me.

  “I can’t ask that of you,” I whispered. “Josh, I can’t ask you to give up your life—”

  His fingers went under my chin, held my gaze to his. “The first thing any relationship needs is trust.”

  If I said yes, there would be no turning back. I ran a hand down his arm, caressing his skin. “Just promise me that you won’t regret this a few weeks from now, when we’re exiled.”

  He growled low in his throat. “Marie—”

  “I trust you,” I said softly.

  “Good,” he replied, just as softly. Josh leaned in and kissed the tip of my nose, oh so gently. “I love you.”

  I smiled, closing my eyes at his tender touch.

  So I missed it when he grew fangs and sank them into my neck.

  I gasped, jerking in surprise at the bolt of pain.

  He held me close as his teeth pulled out of my skin, then he began to lick slowly, sensually. “I’m sorry. I can’t turn you without it hurting a little.” He tugged at the collar of the pajama top I was wearing, exposing the shoulder closest to him for his attention. “The first bite usually doesn’t take.”

  A little twinge of anxiety flared through me. “Oh . . . ?”

  He continued to lap at my neck, and his tongue felt oddly . . . rough? That was a little strange. Not in a bad way, just strange. He continued to stroke my skin with his tongue, and in between lapping, delicious swipes of his tongue, he commented, “Sometimes it takes a lot of bites. Sometimes it doesn’t take at all.”

  “Oh,” I said, feeling a weird mixture of disappointment and anxiety. “So I guess . . . you’ll have to keep biting me?”

  In response, his teeth sank into my skin again, this time just above the collarbone. I jerked in response, pushing at his shoulders. It hurt, even though he shortened the bite and began the soothing licking a lot faster. “I have to do this, Marie,” he said softly. “I don’t want to hurt you, but it can’t be helped.”

  I nodded shakily, my skin hot and uncomfortable where he’d bitten me. He carefully licked each wound, taking great attention with it.

  I was glad it was dark, since I didn’t want to watch. I shrugged my pajama top a little lower, letting it hang at my elbows and revealing a large quantity of bare skin to my lover. Then I tugged at the metal collar still around my throat. “I wish I could take this off. I keep thinking about what happened.”

  “Don’t think about it, love,” Josh said softly, kissing my shoulder. “I’m here with you now. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Let me take care of things.”

  More than anything, I wanted him with me. Whatever happened, we were in this together.

  I let my hands fall from the collar and relaxed, trusting him.

  He continued to lap at my bare skin, and it soothed the pain. It also made my pulse start to pound, centered right between my legs. I blushed at the thought. Was I supposed to be turned on by him biting me? Probably not. I said nothing, determined to let him concentrate. “Is . . . is it your saliva? That does the turning?”

  “It’s a lot of things,” he murmured, pressing a kiss on my bare shoulder. “But mostly the bite.”

  “H-how does that work?” I hated the wobble in my voice when he moved to a new, bare patch of skin and began to nuzzle at it. I felt dread at the thought of his bite, yet anticipation at the sensual licking afterward. “Is it like a venom of some kind, like a snake? Or—”

  “Shhh,” he told me, and kissed my shoulder. At my shiver of response, he sank his teeth into my skin.

  I whimpered, resisting the urge to claw away. But then he was pulling his teeth free, and he began to lick the spot on my skin for long, long moments.

  “Maybe it’s something in the saliva that mixes with the blood,” I said in a low, husky voice. Each swipe of his tongue was making my nipples get harder. I tried to distract him—and me. “And that’s why you need to . . . lick me.”

  I was getting hot and bothered just at the thought of all that licking. The bite wasn’t bothering me nearly as much now, especially since it came with all that decadent, sensual rasping of his tongue.

  Josh leaned back into my neck and inhaled my scent. He groaned low, then leaned in to lick and suck at my neck. “Ah, Marie, I can smell how turned on you are.”

  I froze as he nuzzled my neck, preparing the next spot. “Sorry,” I whispered. “Just ignore me.”

  “Hell
, no—it smells amazing. I want more of it.” His hand slid to caress one of my thighs, stroking along the inside of it and sending my nerve endings flaring madly. “Let me touch you, baby.”

  I nodded, swallowing hard as his other hand skated down past my neck and over my shoulder, tugging down the wide vee of the borrowed nightshirt I wore. “Who gave you this?”

  “I—I don’t know. One of the twins?” I hadn’t paid much attention to it. I’d been too distracted by the thought of Josh lying hurt, Josh possibly dying.

  “Don’t like it,” he growled against my neck, and pressed a hot kiss there even as he ripped at the nightshirt. Buttons popped off, clinking as they smacked the wall and floor. The shirt parted, exposing my bare breasts to the low moonlight. He growled low against my throat and reached to cup one of my breasts, his big hand encircling it.

  I gasped, shuddering against him. That felt so, so good. His thumb flicked over the peak and I whimpered. I almost didn’t notice when he sank his teeth into the curve of my neck and quickly withdrew, lapping and sucking at the skin. His thumb continued to roll my nipple, teasing the stiff peak as his other hand slid up my thigh.

  I moaned, tangling my hand in his hair.

  He hissed when I touched his temple. “Watch the wound.”

  I jerked away. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry.”

  He just continued kissing me. His hand gently pinched the inside of my thigh, close to my sex. “Stay still.” His voice was low, husky, and thick, as if he was struggling to keep control.

  I moved my hand down to his thigh, digging my nails into his jeans when he pinched my nipple and sank his teeth into my neck again. It stung and burned, but between the licking and his teasing caresses, I was having a hard time caring about the bite.

  The hand on my thigh slid farther up, and he cupped my sex. “I love how wet you get for me,” he growled.

  My hips pushed against his hand involuntarily.

  He growled low again and sank his teeth into my collarbone once more as two fingers slid down to my clit and stroked. I jerked in his arms, whimpering again.

  Josh withdrew again, lapping at the bite as his fingers stroked through my slick flesh. “Quit jumping.”

  “I can’t,” I panted, arching a little when he rolled my nipple against his thumb again. “Feels . . . too good.”

  He chuckled, giving my burning skin a long sweep with his tongue that made me moan again. “Flatterer.”

  “Stop . . . touching me . . . if you want me to stop . . . jumping,” I said breathlessly. His fingers stroked up to my clit and began to circle, and I spread my legs wider. “Oh, God, that feels . . . ”

  “Good?” he prompted between licks.

  My fingers dug into his clothed thigh. “I want to touch you.”

  He pressed a kiss to my neck. Once, twice. “I can see that we have a small problem, then. Because I’m not going to stop touching you, and you’re not going to stop twitching, are you?” His fingers stroked and circled at my clit, and I arched against him. “So what should we do about this . . . ?”

  “Get naked,” I breathed, writhing when his hand squeezed my breast. God, that felt incredible. “Get naked and have lots of sex. Bite later.”

  “How can I resist such a demanding woman?” he said, nipping at my shoulder again. He slid his hand away from my sex, making me whimper in protest. “Get on your knees.”

  A hot bolt of desire rushed through me at the command. I got on my hands and knees in the center of the bed, full of need and energy. My entire body throbbed with want, and I looked over at his silhouette in the darkness, trying to see him. I only heard the clink of his belt and the rustle of his jeans as they fell to the ground. Then the bed sagged and his warm hand skated over my back.

  He lightly pressed a kiss to my buttock. “Lean forward, baby. I think I need to wear you out before I have my way with you.”

  “And how are you going to wear me out?” I asked breathlessly, leaning forward until my cheek hit the mattress.

  His fingers glided between my parted legs, stroking my slick flesh again. “Part your legs for me, Marie. I want your knees wide.”

  I did as he asked, spreading them wide on the bed. I felt his big hands on the backs of my thighs, then he tugged at my legs, dragging me down, confusing me . . .

  Until I felt his hot, open mouth on my flesh. He’d slid under me, his head between my legs. Now I was pinned against his mouth, held down by his big hands.

  I shrieked at the first delicious stroke of his tongue against my core.

  “Shhhh,” he said, nuzzling my flesh. “You’ve got to keep it down, baby. I don’t want anyone coming in here to rescue you from me.”

  I didn’t want that, either!

  He licked my flesh again, making me squeak, then lifted his head. “Is this bothering you? Do you want me to stop?”

  Oh, no. That was the last thing I wanted. I grabbed a pillow and stuffed it against my face. “Don’t you dare stop, you tête de cochon.”

  “You say such sweet things, baby,” he murmured in a husky voice, then his mouth dipped low again, his tongue stroking at my core.

  I moaned into the pillow, my hips jerking in response. Oh, God. Oh, God. That felt so good. “Ostie de tabarnak!”

  His tongue stroked there once more, then he shifted me forward and I felt his tongue rasp against my clit, sending a shock wave through my body. My toes curled in response and I bit down on the pillow, breathing hard. Criss. Criss. That felt so amazing. It sent jolts of pleasure coursing through my body, and each one built on the last as he continued to lick the slick little bud slowly and thoroughly, leaving me panting and biting the pillow. On his next lick, I shuddered and groaned into the pillow. “Voyons, Josh. Faster. Please!”

  He ignored me, continuing long, slow, dragging licks that made every nerve ending in my body light up. I needed him to work my clit with fast, strong strokes to pitch me over the edge I was spiraling closer to, but he was determined to torture me, his tongue moving in new, exquisite ways. I flexed against his face, moaning hard. “Please, Josh, please! Harder, you batarde!”

  But he only chuckled and continued. I was writhing against his face now, my hips jerking with every stroke of his tongue, my teeth clenched on the corner of the pillow, whimpers escaping me with every stroke, lost in a daze of pleasure.

  Then his finger grazed against my core as he licked at me, and I gasped. When his finger stroked into my core, I arched. “Criss!” He stroked deep again with his fingers, and again, and sucked at my clit.

  And I came.

  My entire body clenched, my toes curled with pleasure, my body shuddering from the intensity as he continued to stroke my clit with his tongue as his finger stroked deep inside of me. The waves of pleasure went on and on, until I was keening into the pillow.

  He kissed the inside of my thigh. “You say the sweetest things when you’re lost.”

  I was boneless with pleasure, unable to do more than clutch at the pillow as he grasped my hips again. The pleasurable aftermath of the orgasm was still racing through me when I felt his cock nudge against my core and then he sank deep, seating himself in my body.

  I moaned anew. He was so big that he filled me up, making me feel impaled on his length. I loved the feeling. I loved him. And I wanted to tell him. “I love you, Josh,” I moaned as he stroked into my body again.

  “I know, baby,” he said, his voice rough and low. “Keep it down. The others have really good hearing, and we can’t let them know what we’re doing.”

  He thrust hard, jarring me forward, rocking me toward another orgasm. The delicious tension began to rebuild with every stroke into my body. As with his tongue, he took his sweet time. And that slow, measured rhythm drove me utterly wild. I was writhing underneath him again, moaning his name, desperate for the new orgasm.

  I clenched around him and he hissed a curse; his movements became rougher, stronger. I reveled in it, loving that he was spiraling quickly out of control. My hips rose to meet his
, and then I shattered as another orgasm blasted through me. Shuddering ripples of pleasure rocked through me, and he shouted my name as he began to come, his strokes rough and wild as he went over the edge.

  After, he collapsed on the bed, panting hard. I was still boneless, clutching the pillow, an entire corner wet from where I’d bitten down so much. My eyes closed, I existed in a sleepy, exhausted, delicious state.

  I barely noticed when he got up from the bed. He pressed a kiss to my belly. “Be right back.”

  “Mmm, okay.”

  I heard him return a minute or two later; then I felt him grab my hands and pull them over my head.

  My eyes flew open. As I stared, he wrapped a long silk scarf around my wrists and then began to tie them to the wrought-iron headboard.

  “Josh? What are you doing?”

  He kissed my lips lightly. “We have a long night ahead of us, baby, and it’ll be best if you don’t fight me.”

  “But . . . this?” I tugged at my wrists.

  “Better safe than sorry.” His hand went to one ankle, and I felt another scarf go around it. “Do you still trust me?”

  I nodded, feeling a bit of alarm mixed with my languid daze. “I do.”

  “Good. Just remember that I love you.”

  “I will,” I told him as he finished tying down my other leg. “I love you, too.”

  His eyes gleamed bright again in the darkness before he bent low.

  And then the real biting began. The ones before had been love nips. These were raw and painful, and I yelped as he sank his teeth in.

  “I’m sorry,” he told me. “It has to be done.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Everything in my body ached. Everywhere.

  Daylight streamed through the blinds, and I turned my head away. Josh slept against my side, one arm thrown possessively over my waist, one leg over mine, his body half-covering my own. A low purr rumbled in his chest.

  He looked exhausted, I noted tenderly. He’d worked on my body for hours, licking and biting my skin over and over again, to the point that I felt raw all over. Some people took on only one bite, he’d explained, but he’d wanted to be sure that mine took. I didn’t have time to waste, after all, and he wanted me safe. So he’d meticulously bitten and licked and bitten and licked every inch of my skin.