Silken Rapture: Princes of the Underground, Book 2 Read Online Free PDF Page B

Titurino used his fingertips to caress her spread lips.
    “Shhhhh,” he growled, the sound rough and soothing at once. The woman captured his large, blunt forefinger and pursed her lips around it. She suckled it with her eyelids closed, her expression rapt. Isabel’s pussy ached in sympathy when she heard the woman’s low, profound purr of pleasure.
    “I would hate to put such lovely vibrations to waste,” said Titurino. He drew his wet finger from the woman’s mouth, moved to the front of the velvet-draped table and unbuttoned his trousers. Isabel caught a glimpse of a ruddy, thick penis, but then Titurino stepped closer to the woman, his back to Isabel. She watched, spellbound, as Titurino placed his hands on the woman’s head and his trousers fell about his thighs, exposing smooth, olive-skinned, muscular buttocks. The large muscles began to flex as he thrust his cock into the woman’s mouth with small but deliberate movements.
    Venus moaned. Titurino groaned in reply as her pleasure resonated into his sensitive flesh.
    A moment later, Isabel heard a muffled feminine cry and saw the woman’s body shudder. Her aura altered before Isabel’s eyes from a pulsating spectrum of pink to red to magenta with shards of gold spiking through it. Cane’s head moved more rapidly. He seemed so avid to experience the woman’s pleasure, to taste it on his tongue, as though he could actually swallow the energy of her bliss, as if it could nourish him.
    Isabel didn’t realize just how hungry Aubrey was for the woman until he lifted his head and smoothed his hand over the expanse of an inner thigh. His eyelids were heavy from arousal. Two long fangs extended down over his lower lip.
    He lowered his head, obviously intent on biting flesh.
    “ No ,” Isabel cried out in shock. The experience had gone from witnessing a scene of tender, potent eroticism to one of nightmare proportions in a second.
    Titurino’s head whipped around at the sound of her voice. Aubrey looked up slowly. He smiled, his fangs still extended, his nostrils flaring. It struck her like a slap to the face that he’d known she’d watched them all along. How that was possible, she didn’t know, but his calm, knowing expression spoke volumes.
    She turned and rushed across the grand gallery toward the wide staircase, her only thought to get back to the room where she’d awakened. If she returned to bed and slept, would this strange dream come to an end? Would she wake up from her nap in her Ritz London hotel room, needing to prepare for the reception in her honor to be held at the University of London’s Senate House?
    You already got ready for that reception , her mind screamed as she leapt up the marble steps. She saw herself putting on makeup and styling her hair in the mirror. Isabel perfectly recalled zipping up the purple dress she’d bought special for the occasion, remembered walking down the hallway toward the elevators, planning to meet Lester in the lobby, then…
    Nothing. A black spot in her memory.
    The recollection made her stumble. She put out her hands to block her fall on the marble steps. The knife clattered onto hard stone and she was airborne.
    Her fall ceased abruptly. She was in someone’s arms…a large, solid someone.
    “What in the… Put me—” Her agitated sputter came to an abrupt halt when she saw the face of the man who held her. She gaped, suddenly convinced that her bizarre dream had escalated to include being swept into the embrace of intimidating dark angels.
    Memories collided in her brain, causing a frightening chaos of vision, sound and emotion.
    She cursed and began to struggle like mad in the man’s arms, sent into a frenzy of panic. When she realized he still held her effortlessly, she drove up on his nose with the hard ridge of her palm.
    He grunted in pained surprise. “What in bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” he demanded in a furious, rough voice.
    “Let go of me,” she grated out. She raised an