Dead and Loving It by MaryJanice Alongi Page B

sheer yearning. She had never needed to come so badly.
    When she felt him start to enter her, it took every ounce, every drop of her willpower not to strain to meet him. She resisted by listing his many odious offenses inside her head.
    That part of him was warm. And hard, and huge. His cock was parting her slowly and gently, and she had a quick thought: He has to be gentle…he wasn’t a few times before, and he hurt his partner. That’s how he knows to tongue fuck first. But that thought spiraled away into confusion as he shoved, and she felt him slam into her. She made a sound, some small sound, and his mouth was instantly on hers. She could taste her lust, and her blood, and then he was whispering into her mouth, “I couldn’t help that, I’m sorry—am I hurting you?” His hands were fisting in her hair, he was groaning and thrusting, and her breath was coming in harsh gasps.
    â€œPlease,” she groaned. “Please—” Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop. Harder. More. Faster. Please. Please. Please.
    He groaned, too. “I wanted to hurt you but not like…I’ll make it up to you, my own—” She heard him grind his teeth…and then he stopped so suddenly he was rigid with the strain of it. She was afraid to move, to breathe, but it didn’t matter. He did the unthinkable anyway—slowly pulled out of her. She closed her eyes and whimpered as he went, hating herself for it even as she knew she could have done nothing to quell the sound.
    â€œJane. Tell the truth, love. Am I hurting you?” She felt his hand caress her cheek and opened her eyes. His teeth were set so hard his jaw trembled. Here was a perfect opportunity for revenge. And she couldn’t do it.
    â€œTwice,” she whispered.
    He bent closer and dropped a kiss to her shoulder. “What?”
    â€œTwice. This is my second time. Ever. In my life.”
    â€œYou— what ?” She could have laughed at his horrified expression if she hadn’t been ready to claw his eyes out for not letting her come. “Oh, Christ! I had no—I thought you—you seemed so tough I was sure—”
    Tough? Sure. Real tough. She’d grown a shell around her soul the night she lost her virginity. The night she, in her ardor, broke her lover’s back. It had happened on the last day of her freshmen year in college, and her then-boyfriend, as far as she knew, was still in a wheelchair. It was the first and last time she’d chosen someone who wasn’t pack. It was, in fact, the last time she’d chosen anyone, until tonight. And she hasn’t exactly chosen this, had she?
    â€œYou can’t say Christ, ” she whispered. “You’re a vampire.”
    â€œOne of the many myths,” he whispered back. He stroked her hair. She could feel his cock on her leg, throbbing impatiently. It didn’t give a fuck if she was hurt or not. It had business to get back to. And so did she. “Jane, why did you try to run away from me?”
    â€œI didn’t, dimwad. I told you the truth.”
    â€œHmm.”
    â€œNow will you please finish and untie me?”
    â€œPick one.”
    She nearly screamed. “What?”
    â€œPick one.” He tapped her clit with a teasing finger. “And I’ll do it.” He kissed her again. He ducked down and licked her nipple and then sucked, hard. In their bonds, her hands curled into fists. “Whichever one. I’ll do it. Thoroughly.”
    â€œI hate you,” she nearly sobbed.
    â€œI know.”
    â€œFinish.”
    â€œOh, thank God.” In an instant he was pushing his way inside her again, and for a half second, she understood why he had been concerned—the friction was delightful, so delightful, it was just this side of pain. Then he was pumping his hips against hers, and it became more than delightful; it was exquisite.
    â€œKiss me back,” he said into her mouth.