Real Vampires: Glory Does Vegas by Bartlett, Gerry (white hot kiss TXT) 📕

“As much as I’ve missed you?” I kicked away the thong and moved into his arms. He felt heavenly against me, skin to skin. Our mouths met and we held each other, tasting, smelling, reveling in revisiting all those sensations that were so dear and familiar.

It didn’t take long for me to crawl on the bed and lie next to him, then pull him on top of me. I needed him inside me. It was as natural as breathing used to be for me when I’d been mortal. We moved as one, taking, giving and finding that release that always ended with my screaming his name. Jeremiah. Not the modern Jeremy or Jerry. No, he’d always be Jeremiah to me—the man who’d stolen my heart and given me immortality.

“I must taste you.” He ran his mouth over all the places where he loved to linger then finally stopped at his favorite. I knew this. I could read his mind for once.

“Here,” he said, his breath stirring me, a touch of his tongue making me arch and groan his name. I was open to him, eager for him, so very sensitive I trembled near completion again. “I would drink at this place where your vein is strong and near where you take me into your body. May I?” He looked up, wanting to be sure this would give me as much pleasure as it would give him.

“Yes, please.” I held my breath crying out with pleasure/pain when his fangs sank into that vein on my inner thigh. I grabbed his hair, his head between my thighs as he drank. The pull, dear gods, the pull of his mouth drinking and taking my life force.

“I love you. I’ve missed this. Don’t leave me again.” He sent me these messages in his mind as he drank, the tug against my skin sending an orgasmic quake through me.

I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe and found myself letting it go on too long. It was only when I realized the room had lost focus, the lights had dimmed, that I jerked away.

“Stop, you’re about to kill me.” I held his hair in my hands and forced him to look at me.

His fangs were wet with my blood. “God forgive me, I can’t help it. You’re addictive. The only thing that can truly satisfy me these days.” He shook his head free, then crawled back up to take me in his arms. “I’m sorry, my love.”

“It’s okay. But you must be careful. I know you are strong, stronger than I am if we had to come to blows over this.” I held him, realizing how true that was. He could overpower me.

“Dom with his exotic synthetics. Stoking the libido, making me high or whatever. I blame that, plus our separation.” He ran his hand down my back. “It’s made me realize all I ever want or need is your blood, my darling. It takes me higher than any strange man-made concoction can. It is also what keeps me sane and alive.”

“Of course, you are sane. But alive? You know that is not possible. We are never alive.” I hated to say it. “You cannot always have my blood to sustain you, Jeremiah. We are not going to be together. I’ve told you why.”

“Come now. Look how good it was. Can anyone else give you this kind of pleasure?” He palmed my breast. “Maybe I don’t want you to answer that. I just know that what I have with you is unique. No other woman satisfies me the way you do. We play, we love, we fight, yes, but every bit of it is perfect.” He leaned over to drag a fang across my nipple before sucking it deep into his mouth.

I had no answer to that. As I held his head against me, I knew it was perfect. My own stubborn resistance to being a kept woman was the only thing keeping us apart. No other woman… Yes, he’d had other women since we’d parted. I should have taken other lovers. But Valdez was always with me, always watching, and that had made it difficult.

The fact was, it didn’t matter. I truly didn’t want another lover, only Jeremiah. I saw a future for us, if he would give me time. I tugged on his hair again and he pulled back, a satisfied smile on his face.

“You want me, don’t bother to deny it, Gloriana.”

“Of course, I want you. I’ve always wanted you, since the first moment we met.” I kissed his smile. “But listen to me. You’re right. We have something special. But it’s not perfect. I need to do this. I have to work to earn the money I’ll need to start my own business. I have to prove to myself that I can be independent of you. That I can successfully hold my own without your help. Not just scrape by like I have been doing.”

“How long will that take?” He ran his hands over my body, stirring me again. “These separations are torture. I think for both of us. I am not the only one who misses you. So do your friends.” He drew a design on my stomach, fingertip dipping low and making me have to concentrate to remember what we were talking about. “I could name them but it would take too long.”

“I miss them too. But they are all rich, living well, which makes me feel like a failure. It is another reason why this time I must not fail.” I sat up, dragging a sheet over me. I wasn’t about to let him derail this important conversation with sex. It was an ancient ploy of his and it always worked.

“Your friends don’t look down on you because you aren’t rich. Many couples have one who is relying on the other to take care of them.” He tugged at the sheet.

“I notice you didn’t say married couples.” I slapped his hand.