Blood Wyne

Blood Wyne by Yasmine Galenorn Page B

Book: Blood Wyne by Yasmine Galenorn Read Free Book Online
Authors: Yasmine Galenorn
Tags: Fiction, General, Romance, Paranormal
Instead, he vanished into the grave and I walked away, bleeding and in pain but triumphant.”
    Roman drew his shoulders back, standing so regally that I almost forgot he was naked. The power, the elegance rolled off him in a wave and swept me forward. I rose to my knees and leaned forward, pressing my lips to the scar on his thigh. Following it across his stomach to the scar on his side, I left a trail of soft kisses, nibbling, barely nipping him as he shuddered and his erection hardened.
    “Oh my beautiful girl, you are such a wild spirit,” he murmured, his hand gently holding the back of my head as I slid around and began kissing my way up the lacerations that crisscrossed his flesh. He was cold—unlike my Nerissa—but the chill was familiar, matching my own body temperature, and as I pressed my naked length along his back, a hunger began to build.
    Hunger for blood, hunger for sex.
    I slid my arms around his waist. “I’ve never been with a vampire before, except when . . .”
    “ Sshh . . . don’t sully this moment with his name. Not here. Not now.” Roman turned around and gathered me in his arms, crushing his lips against mine. He let out a low hiss. “There are so many things we can do,” he murmured. “I long to taste you, to feed on you. Will you exchange blood with me?”
    I found myself nodding, eager to taste him, eager to feel the rush of cool blood in my mouth. The blood that remained in our bodies was nowhere near normal temperature, but it still flowed, still circulated at an almost unbearably slow rhythm, giving no pulse, no fire to the body.
    He lowered his lips to my neck. “Let me drink from you, then drink from me, my beauty, and taste my power.” As his fangs touched my flesh, neatly puncturing my neck, a wave of euphoria slid over me and I closed my eyes, spiraling into a river of passion. It flowed, pulling me deep, sucking me under like the fingers of a riptide.
    Let me drown forever, let me swim out and never come back. My thoughts were clouded in shades of honey and amber, of incense and sweet perfume. A rush of images raced through my mind—an ancient riverbed, dry as the moon, carving its way through a series of dunes. The thunder of hooves as a group of warriors rode by under the sun, their leader as glorious as the sun that beat down on them. Roman. Astride the lead horse, and the look in his eyes one of victory.
    And the scenes changed, a sensual collage of people and places but always, always Roman was there, leading the rush, laughing atop a pile of dead bodies, in the middle of battle, his eyes flashing with life as he staked his claim, and then slowly, the euphoric rush began to fade, just enough for me to disentangle my thoughts, as he gently pulled away.
    “And now,” he whispered, baring his neck. “Come on, baby. Bite me. Suck me. Drink me.”
    And I did, plunging my fangs into him, feeling the spurt of blood in my mouth as I coaxed the drops to the surface. They were sweet, like sherry or port or flaming liqueur, and as I drove my fangs deeper, I straddled his cock and languorously slid down his length as he thrust up to meet me. He moaned as I licked the wound, willing the blood to fill my mouth. I began to rock my hips against his, reveling in the feel of him inside me, and he encircled my waist with one hand to balance me as he stood, my legs wrapped around him.
    The world was a haze of blood and desire, of hunger and touch, and everything dissolved together in a whirl of sensation. And then we were moving—a blur in the night.
    Suddenly, I looked up and found that we were standing under the stars. Crystalline clear, they sparkled in the chill of the night, but the cold of the night didn’t bother me as the stiff breeze gusted around us, howling like a Bean Sidhe.
    I pulled away from his neck, the blood trickling down my chin as he strode across the yard, carrying me through the snow, until we were in the middle of a private grove of cedar and fir. In the center

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