Her Dark Lord Read Online Free PDF Page B

Ancient One.
    He nodded slowly. “I do believe you would.” He shrugged out of his jacket and leisurely slipped off his gaping shirt. Bare-chested, he tilted his head to the side, fully exposing his neck. “In that case, drink me.”
    No! Not that .
    Her eyes widened. She reeled backward. Her calves hit the lounge and she thudded back onto her rear. Shit. She’d heard he was merciless and cold. Discreet whisperings of his cruelty had reached even her ears—but to ask this of her?
    Words somehow churned past the thick lump wedged in her throat. “You’ve already drank from me. If I drink from you, we’ll be bonded,” she swallowed rising terror, “our shared blood linking us body and soul. Blood-tied!”
    “For eternity.” He nodded sagely. “Yes.”
    “You hardly know me.” I don’t know you.
    “I know enough.”
    Of course he did. He’d been around long enough to know what he liked, what he didn’t.
    He leaned down and grasped her hand. His touch sent a frisson along her skin before humming through her veins like electricity. “We have the rest of tonight. Tomorrow, you will take me to your mother.”
    She jerked away, but paused when he sent a warning stare. And suddenly she knew this was her one and only opportunity—and she hated that he’d taken all choice away from her. Hated that he’d duped her again and again, and that she’d been naive enough to let him. Hated him for using her mother’s deadly illness to force her to his will.
    Something improbably close to remorse flickered across his face, but she realized she’d been sadly mistaken, when he pulled her up and caught her close.
    “Such passion,” he murmured. “I look forward to our time together.”
    She trembled, despising him with all her being. And though his mouth settled onto hers like a rasp of silk, his tongue pressing past her lips and tasting within like an expert connoisseur, she wasn’t about to melt against him.
    It took all her willpower to remain still, to not react and stay passive under the passionate mouth that so effortlessly claimed hers.
    His head reared back, his eyes burning like hot coals. “ Dios . You cannot fight against your blood instincts.”
    “Maybe not, but I’ll sure have fun trying,” she hissed.
    His eyes glazed red, and she realized her challenge had sent him over the edge. She smiled, her fangs pushing against her gums until they burned and ached while she fought, and won, control over her physical response.
    Her downfall would be on her terms, not his.
    She was strong, lethal, but she had no chance against him physically or mentally. He was the Ancient One, king of the vampires, lord of the secret race. He’d outlived many a cunning, powerful and swift nightwalker.
    She knew hunger shone from her eyes as everything blurred red at the edges. He moved toward her, expectant, hungry, but she stepped aside. “Sit down,” she ordered.
    A languid smile curled his lips, but he did as she asked. A thrill shot down her spine, seeping moisture between her thighs. She closed her eyes, feeling the moment, freeing her body’s inhibitions as she swayed to the silence.
    She didn’t need music, simply writhed to her own rhythm, her arms lifting, turning, floating while her hips swiveled. She slipped her hands behind her head and under her hair, pulling it forward, across her breast.
    She opened her eyes. Ronan…Sean, sat forward, his eyes burning hot, his fangs sharp, pointed, and ready to strike.
    “How badly do you want me?” she breathed out.
    His stare narrowed, but she read his strengthening arousal. “More than you know.”
    She smiled, slowly twisting, shimmying. “Take my dress off,” she instructed huskily.
    He climbed lithely to his feet, for the moment clearly happy to obey. His hands brushed her skin, sending skitters of sensation through her body even before he’d taken the hem of her dress and tugged it up.
    She lifted suddenly boneless arms, the air a cool breath on her bare skin as