Bound by the Vampire Queen Read Online Free PDF Page B

the tilt of her head and arch of her back were all designed to catch a man’s gaze. But she liked the way he looked at her, how he saw those things as part of everything she was, not just the purely sexual being she was right now. Everything she was… all of it was for one particular male. For him.
    He made no apologies for being in her mind right now. Those fangs were sharp and glistening, his eyes like blue lasers. “Now, my lady,” he demanded, his fingers curling in his bindings.
    She placed her fingertips on his chest, a tiny pressure. Dug her nails through the thin cotton, and then lower, until she found the hem and raised the shirt. Keeping her upper body away from him, she nevertheless stepped onto his booted feet and pressed her lower body to him, feeling his cock against her belly . Using a tight grip on a handful of his jeans, fingers curved in a belt loop, she rubbed, enjoying the feeling as he growled low in his throat.
    She dug her nails further into his flesh, pushing the shirt up to the base of his throat. When she put her mouth on his skin, her hair fell down over her shoulder to caress him as the wind blew it against his abdomen.
    Tell me how you will fuck me, Jacob.
    Deep… hard… I want to claim you to the point of blood and pain. I want to push you far beyond that, give you so much pleasure it takes you into a place beyond fear. I can smell how wet you are.
    Your cunt is dripping for me. I want it.
    She bit him hard enough to leave marks, tasting the salt of his flesh. In her Fae form, she not only had fangs but also talons that could tear his flesh. They had, in the past. She’d licked away the blood as the wounds healed, as he quivered beneath her, as his cock spurted inside of her. Though he was not a natural submissive, he served her and so understood the way of it, an instinct that could command his body when she desired it.
    She teased him further, bending her knees for a sinuous dance against him, dragging her breasts over his abdomen, then lower, pressing aroused nipples against what was beneath the denim.
    Shifting her hold, she fished out the switchblade he kept in his front pocket, caressing the impressive organ within tempting distance of the weapon. As she flipped open the blade and used it to cut the T-shirt away from him, he followed her every move with a man’s lust and a warrior’s alertness, a thrilling combination. She recognized the still ness that held him now. He was done playing. He was waiting for opportunity, and it only excited her more.
    Tearing the rest of the cotton away, she attacked his flesh anew, keeping her head tucked beneath his jaw as she tasted, bit, licked. When she was a vampire, she’d given him the second mark around his nipple, and though the scar was no longer there, the memory was, such that he always shuddered hard when she mouthed him there. Then she went back down, sinking to her knees to press her mouth over the brand above his hip bone, dragging on the waistband to pul the jeans even lower. The brand was a cross, a symbol of faith she’d placed there herself.
    “Take off your clothes, Lyssa. Let me see you.” He did that sometimes, called her familiar, always in deeply intimate moments like this. It was an indicator of the unpredictable nature of their relationship, the exchanges of power, determining who would surrender and when the next battle would be. She wanted him to see her. Restrained as he was, she could torture him to madness with the way she unbuttoned her blouse, letting it fall open to reveal the cream-colored bra, which pushed up her small breasts. The cups were low enough to expose the areolas. The blue color of his eyes was black in the darkness of their shared desire. As she shrugged out of the blouse and released the bra, her nipples got even tighter, bared to his gaze.
    Then she slid out of the slacks, taking the matching panties with them. He tilted his head, as much as his restraint would allow, and focused on them,